Resident Evil 5 - Subject 551
folder
+M through R › Resident Evil
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
2
Views:
15,660
Reviews:
3
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
+M through R › Resident Evil
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
2
Views:
15,660
Reviews:
3
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Resident Evil, its characters or any ideas or concepts contained herein. This story is a mere fan-made work, and I make no money or profit from its creation and dissemination.
Test Number 001
Author's Note: So you wanted to check out the mini-fic, eh? Despite how short it is, you need to be warned that this has VERY MINOR HINTS OF NECRO. There's nothing explicit in that sense, but for those of you especially queasy about that, I want to give you fair warning. I wrote this in 2008 as a quickie with very little editing, and it was written entirely because it was inspired by this picture: http://img837.imageshack.us/img837/715/clairew.jpg .
She couldn't help herself.
The sight of it shocked her. Repulsed her. Green flesh, an engorged member with one of the most disgusting insects of the natural world coming out of it. An open-mouthed frown complemented her exasperation and fear perfectly. She wanted to run. She knew how to pull it off, too. She could knock the zombie on its back, or trip it as she swiftly moved to the side, or raise her gun and shoot it in the head. She had many tactics she could employ to get away from the hideous sight.
All of which were nothing but fantasies to her rational mind.
It made no sense. The zombie's cock repulsed her. Offended all of her senses at the same time. Yes, even taste, though it hovered a few feet from her lips. She knew this was the very last place she wanted to be, but something told her to stay. It was the very same thing that had convinced her to cut away the crotch of her shorts and rip apart the chest of her shirt and jacket until all that remained was a few slender black threads of cloth that painfully held her breasts at bay.
She couldn't understand. Her pussy had turned pink verging on red. Her nipples stuck out harder than they'd ever felt in her life, harder than what came with the coldest winters or the hottest of affairs.
This wasn't why she'd come to Raccoon City. Her brother waited out there somewhere, her missing brother. THAT was the reason she braved the zombie-infested streets, brandishing a handgun that she'd had to use several times to get around. She didn't want to be here, in the grime and the muck of a dying city. She was a normal girl, just a normal girl like any other. She liked nice things, pretty things, nice shoes and fragrant perfumes and designer clothes.
So why was she so turned on by the crunch of the garbage bags against her back, and the stench of the things rotting inside them? Why did she let out a moan more passionate than the one that came out with the best orgasm she'd had in her life to this point... all from one of those disgusting, repulsive maggots falling to her stomach, mere inches from her loins? She loathed the very sight of the writhing white things, yet she lusted to have them inside her womb and between her breasts.
The longer she thought of running, the harder it felt to do. She wanted to get away from this humiliation and back on the path to finding her lost brother, but the more she looked down to the other end of the alley, the more she wanted to stay. Her mind told her to go, reminded her of everything she really wanted in life. Her body said to stay, teasing and mocking her with raw, carnal desire for something that made her nauseous.
"I want it to stop!" Claire shouted, fighting for control. "This is downright degrading! I want my body back. I don't want to want these things. I know I shouldn't want these things. Why can't I make it stop?"
She said all this while crawling backward on top of the piles of garbage bags, presenting herself to the zombie whose body both repulsed and aroused her. A ravenous hunger began to growl in her stomach, and she looked around in dread at the bags that held what her body craved.
---------------------------------
"Test number 001 in progress," the scientist announced.
"Good," Wesker looked at the monitor, watching the sister of his hated enemy Chris Redfield humiliate herself in the alleys of Raccoon City.
Their newest virus was controversial, a string that altered human DNA to shift the very core of human sexual and bodily needs from the normal pangs and urges to their very antithesis, desires that could potentially help them advance biological lifeform weaponry by decades. A slight flaw in the formula was apparent in Claire's attitude: they intended for the subject to lose any sense of their old biological priorities and whole-heartedly embrace their new ones.
"I'm afraid the initial test was a failure," the scientist said.
"No." Wesker's words, heartless as always, hinted at a devil inside him. Whether it came from his own 'upgrades' or a natural darkness inside him, no one quite knew. "Claire Redfield, the dear sister of my rival Chris, will live out the rest of her days in a world of squalor and filth, every day reaching out for the very things that repulse her most. I would call this test a success. Now, I have a good idea of where we can find our next test subject."
She couldn't help herself.
The sight of it shocked her. Repulsed her. Green flesh, an engorged member with one of the most disgusting insects of the natural world coming out of it. An open-mouthed frown complemented her exasperation and fear perfectly. She wanted to run. She knew how to pull it off, too. She could knock the zombie on its back, or trip it as she swiftly moved to the side, or raise her gun and shoot it in the head. She had many tactics she could employ to get away from the hideous sight.
All of which were nothing but fantasies to her rational mind.
It made no sense. The zombie's cock repulsed her. Offended all of her senses at the same time. Yes, even taste, though it hovered a few feet from her lips. She knew this was the very last place she wanted to be, but something told her to stay. It was the very same thing that had convinced her to cut away the crotch of her shorts and rip apart the chest of her shirt and jacket until all that remained was a few slender black threads of cloth that painfully held her breasts at bay.
She couldn't understand. Her pussy had turned pink verging on red. Her nipples stuck out harder than they'd ever felt in her life, harder than what came with the coldest winters or the hottest of affairs.
This wasn't why she'd come to Raccoon City. Her brother waited out there somewhere, her missing brother. THAT was the reason she braved the zombie-infested streets, brandishing a handgun that she'd had to use several times to get around. She didn't want to be here, in the grime and the muck of a dying city. She was a normal girl, just a normal girl like any other. She liked nice things, pretty things, nice shoes and fragrant perfumes and designer clothes.
So why was she so turned on by the crunch of the garbage bags against her back, and the stench of the things rotting inside them? Why did she let out a moan more passionate than the one that came out with the best orgasm she'd had in her life to this point... all from one of those disgusting, repulsive maggots falling to her stomach, mere inches from her loins? She loathed the very sight of the writhing white things, yet she lusted to have them inside her womb and between her breasts.
The longer she thought of running, the harder it felt to do. She wanted to get away from this humiliation and back on the path to finding her lost brother, but the more she looked down to the other end of the alley, the more she wanted to stay. Her mind told her to go, reminded her of everything she really wanted in life. Her body said to stay, teasing and mocking her with raw, carnal desire for something that made her nauseous.
"I want it to stop!" Claire shouted, fighting for control. "This is downright degrading! I want my body back. I don't want to want these things. I know I shouldn't want these things. Why can't I make it stop?"
She said all this while crawling backward on top of the piles of garbage bags, presenting herself to the zombie whose body both repulsed and aroused her. A ravenous hunger began to growl in her stomach, and she looked around in dread at the bags that held what her body craved.
---------------------------------
"Test number 001 in progress," the scientist announced.
"Good," Wesker looked at the monitor, watching the sister of his hated enemy Chris Redfield humiliate herself in the alleys of Raccoon City.
Their newest virus was controversial, a string that altered human DNA to shift the very core of human sexual and bodily needs from the normal pangs and urges to their very antithesis, desires that could potentially help them advance biological lifeform weaponry by decades. A slight flaw in the formula was apparent in Claire's attitude: they intended for the subject to lose any sense of their old biological priorities and whole-heartedly embrace their new ones.
"I'm afraid the initial test was a failure," the scientist said.
"No." Wesker's words, heartless as always, hinted at a devil inside him. Whether it came from his own 'upgrades' or a natural darkness inside him, no one quite knew. "Claire Redfield, the dear sister of my rival Chris, will live out the rest of her days in a world of squalor and filth, every day reaching out for the very things that repulse her most. I would call this test a success. Now, I have a good idea of where we can find our next test subject."