Joyce Julep
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The Whipple Virus, Chapter 6
🕑 Added 2021-01-04 21:41:43 +0000 UTCChapter 6
Far away in another part of the house, Irina was busying herself cleaning the mansion’s old drawing room, which was significantly dusty and cobwebbed from years of disuse. Irina couldn’t help but imagine back to when Warren’s parents had been alive, and when they had hosted elegant parties in the mansion, drawing rich and prominent guests from the highest ranks of society. It was all rather sad, really, that this time had passed, and that a grownup Warren was the only one still living there.
‘Well it’s not sad, though,’ Irina said to herself as she cleaned and dusted. ‘It’s just…the passage of time. Still, wouldn’t it be nice if…maybe sometime…Warren could get to a point where he could open himself up and have some people…over?’
She halted this train of thought in her head almost as soon as she had embarked upon it. In the first few days…even weeks, of his virus diagnosis, Warren really had put on a brave face and shown some signs that he was gaining confidence and momentum. Irina had even found herself believing there, for a moment, that he was turning an emotional corner, and was going to use his diagnosis as a catalyst to become a new man…someone who had left his nervousness and agoraphobia in the past.
But Irina knew the opposite was actually true. As the days had turned into weeks, and Warren’s shrinking became more and more noticeable, she had seen him revert back into himself, as he became more and more awkward and timid around her. Irina didn’t negatively judge this regression in the least — if anything, it made her own internal struggles that much more difficult to cope with. Just seeing the way he would glance up at her, and then dart his eyes away in panic when she met his stare…or the way that she’d feel his shriveling body seize up a little when she accidentally brushed him with her fingers as she measured him…all of this just made Irina feel her erotically-charged maternal instincts that much stronger.
At this point, whenever she was in the same room as him, it was almost inevitable that her nipples would harden, seemingly on their own accord, and that she would feel a deep, almost painful churning deep within both of her large breasts. These physiological responses to Warren’s presence would be accompanied by an almost unbearably searing desire to cuddle him, to reassure him, to whisper in his ears, to cradle him…to breastfeed him. Irina had long since stopped trying to pretend that she wasn’t having these desires. They crowded in amongst each other in her head whenever she stopped working, and whenever she laid her head down to sleep. She was undeniably troubled by the irrationality, the impossibility of these powerful longings, but unlike the first couple weeks, when Irina had stressed herself out worrying about them, she was beginning to feel more brazen with them. She was becoming less shy about going over his small, shrinking body with her eyes; more and more, she would allow Warren to catch her looking at him, and whenever he did, she felt a sweet clench in her loins as her breasts began churning again.
In the back of her mind, she knew that she too had been infected by the Whipple Virus, and that her desires were merely symptoms of the disease setting in. But Irina was gradually deciding that she didn’t care why she felt this way. The fact was that she did have these desires. That was what really mattered. And the way that Warren had just accidentally smushed into her breasts as he turned a corner…well, it was all Irina could do to keep herself from grabbing him right then and there.
But she had managed to just throw her head back and give a flippant little laugh. She would have been more proud of herself if Warren hadn’t immediately blushed crimson, blinked up at her a few times in alarm, and run away. Irina had watched him go, her smile still lingering even as it began to fade a little. Now, half an hour later, as she cleaned the drawing room, she questioned her own reaction.
‘Was I too casual with him?’ she wondered. ‘Was that unprofessional of me to laugh?’ In her uncertainty, she cleaned faster, her body fueled by the added boost of the virus energizing her cells. Irina hadn’t realized it, but her productivity had increased by almost 50% in the past two weeks. She had always been productive, but the added energy from her infection, coupled with her steadily increasing size and strength, gave her a formidable amount of endurance. In less than twenty minutes, the entire spacious room was sparkling, looking brand new.
‘Oh I was totally fine!’ Irina shot back at herself, standing to admire her handiwork as her big chest rose and fell a little. ‘He’s the one who was acting all out-of-sorts. Poor little guy…he’s only, what…5’4 now? I wonder how tall I am?’
Irina stared hard at nothing in particular in the drawing room. Suddenly, everything seemed frozen in time. She had resisted measuring and weighing herself for weeks, simply because she didn’t want to encourage her sexual and maternal feelings around her employer. Somewhere in her mind, Irina knew that if she began to focus on how much bigger she was than Warren, how much taller, how much stronger, how much more substantial, then the floodgates to her lust would open, and she would be unable to control the roaring currents that followed. She KNEW that there was a connection between Warren’s dwindling stature and her increased feelings of motherly, erotic affection for him. If she started measuring herself, well…then she wouldn’t be able to help comparing her body to his at every given opportunity.
Irina’s pussy lips started to engorge with blood, and her clit began to ache with repressed pleasure. She suddenly thought of Sarah, the image of that incredibly sensual and voluptuous nurse coming to the forefront of her mind. She still had the card with Sarah’s personal phone number on it…and Sarah HAD encouraged Irina to call if she was having trouble with…what had her words been, exactly? If there was “anything concerning going on in your head”…that was what Sarah had said. Well, there was certainly plenty going on in Irina’s mind that was concerning her, but she wasn’t quite ready to call Sarah yet. Something was holding her back — the way that Sarah moved, the way she talked, the way she behaved…it all had a strange and alluring splendor to it, a kind of majesty, but Irina felt that if she actually called Sarah, then she would be pulled further and further into something that she wasn’t sure she wanted to be a part of. It was hard for Irina to parse out what exactly was keeping her from reaching out, and if she had thought about it a little more, she would have realized that she had some misgivings about this young nurse. There was something almost scary about her, a calmness and easiness in her enormous body that was…unnatural.
But Irina brushed aside these thoughts without thinking too deeply on them. She didn’t need to call Sarah — she had everything perfectly under control! And because she did, she reasoned, there was nothing wrong with checking on her measurements, just to see if she had actually gotten any bigger, and by how much. A fresh glee seized her as she practically skipped towards Warren’s bedroom, where she kept the measuring tape she used to record his stats every evening. Irina knew that something had changed in her mind…something had broken down, leaving her subconscious desires the space to flow forth more freely. But at the moment she didn’t care. She was just excited that she had finally managed to convince herself that it was ok to indulge a little bit. Irina didn’t realize it, but it had been the memory of the sensuous nurse that had landed the deciding blow.
A couple minutes later, Irina had taken off her 2-inch heels (which, she now was free to realize, were a little tighter than she would have liked them to be), stood with her back to the wall, and marked her height with a tiny pencil mark by the doorframe of Warren’s bedroom. She had half-expected to find him hiding away in there, but was relieved to see that he had fled off somewhere else. Feeling decidedly unprofessional, yet taking a strange delight in what she was doing, Irina took the measuring tape and extended it out down the wall, holding the bottom with her foot and pulling it tight right at the pencil mark. She looked at the number and her heart seemed to buoy and throb in her chest.
175 centimeters.
That was WAY taller than she had ever been before! At most, in her bare feet, she had measured just over 167 centimeters…and NOW!? Irina was breathing fast, her big chest rising and falling so rapidly that she was almost heaving with excitement. She WAS growing! It was actually happening! It wasn’t all in her imagination! She turned the tape measure around, eager to see how she measured up to Warren’s 5’4…she stared blankly at the inch reading for a moment, and then her mind comprehended: just under 69 inches…and 60 inches was 5 feet even…so…she was almost 5-foot-9!!
Irina could hardly believe it — in her 2-inch heels, she had been 5’8. She enjoyed the little height boost, but now, in her heels, she was nearing an inch under SIX FEET. “Six feet” had always sounded impossibly tall to Irina, but now it wasn’t so far out of her reach!
‘Calm down…calm down,’ she said to herself as she floated towards the scale, stepping on it with an almost mechanical enthusiasm. Everything about this moment seemed so surreal to her. And yet still, in the back of her mind, she was moving quickly. She didn’t want her employer to catch her measuring herself in his bedroom — it would have been immensely embarrassing for her. But the drive of her increasing erotic energy was propelling her forward without regard for her more customary concerns.
‘Now I weighed…what? 72 kilos when I last weighed myself? Maybe 73?’ Irina couldn’t quite remember. She also wasn’t the best at converting kilograms to pounds, and Warren’s scale was in pounds. Still, it was enough to measure herself against his weight the previous night, which had been 111 pounds. Her heart pounded in her chest as she stepped on the scale, and she waited with bated breath as the mechanical blue numbers spun and garbled themselves around, until…
181.2 pounds.
Irina’s eyes got so wide they started getting dry almost immediately. She blinked a few times and kept looking at the number. It was…SO much more than Warren weighed! 70 whole pounds more!! Irina quickly stepped off the scale and turned to look at herself in the mirror, twisting and rotating her body around slowly as she admired her larger curves. Now that she had actually given herself leeway to notice these things, there wasn’t any doubt: she was noticeably bigger everywhere, and most particularly in her breasts, hips, and butt. She had been a curvy woman before, but now she realized that she was starting to approach the proportions and contours of all those women on TV. And just like that, it went off in Irina’s head: this must be happening EVERYWHERE. Of COURSE she was bigger! She had the Whipple Virus! That’s what it did to women!
Irina actually laughed out loud in an uncharacteristic and burst of pleasure. She was experiencing a flood of emotions, emotions that had been pent up inside her for some time. She unhooked a couple latches on her bra to let her enlarged breasts breathe a little, and she undid a couple buttons on her maid’s top. Why had she been ignoring all these things for days? Weeks!? Irina’s brain was pinging on all these fun ideas of what to do now — she needed to go out and buy herself some newer clothes! Some heels with a bigger sole…hell, why not a bigger heel spike too?? She chuckled again out loud, thinking about buying some large platform heels that would make her well over 6 feet. What would Warren say then!?
“He wouldn’t even be able to speak!” Irina laughed out loud, finally speaking with her actual voice. This had the effect of drawing her back a little, though, and she quickly re-hooked her bra back on, looking anxiously at Warren’s open bedroom door. There was no sign of him, though, and Irina chuckled to herself again, breathing a sigh of relief. She left the top button of her blouse undone as she squeezed her feet back into her heels, put away the measuring tape, and quickly left the bedroom. She was having too much fun — she’d wait and go shopping the following day.
For the next several hours, Irina distracted herself by cleaning, and then re-cleaning several more rooms in the house, singing out loud as she merrily worked. At first, she didn’t think anything of Warren’s absence, chalking it up to his embarrassment at having run directly into her breasts. But as the afternoon turned to evening, and after she had made a delectable vegetarian chili for dinner, Warren’s continued absence began to worry her. Whatever he was doing, Warren almost always came downstairs to eat around 6. But 6 came and went…as did 7, and still he had not turned up. Irina ate her own dinner by herself, trying not to think too hard about it all, but when 8 o’clock rolled around without any sign of Warren, she really began to think something was wrong.
She started by calling his name gently, then louder, and when he didn’t answer she started to fear the worst and began searching for him, room by room, calling his name over and over. She felt almost sick to her stomach…when she had been enjoying herself, getting off to her own enhancing effects of the Whipple Virus, Warren had probably fainted somewhere in the house from the virus’s effects on him. He might have fallen, or had a dizzy spell and hit his head, or…she shuddered to think…he might have suffered one of those rare Whipple Virus strokes that the scientists had talked about on the news.
‘And the whole time, I was just laughing and having a fine old time,’ she thought to herself viciously. Her search became more and more frenzied, until the only room left for her to search was the old library at the far end of the house. Irina burst in, her face flushed from the exertion of the search.
“Warren!?” she cried out into the dark room. “Are you in here??”
“I’m…here!” came a small and pitiful voice from the base of one of the bookshelves, near the ladder. Irina’s heart leapt in her chest as she swooped over, and she saw the miserable sight of Warren, his skinny little body curled up in pain, shaking as he clutched his knee.
“Oh my god!! Warren!!” she cried, almost beside herself with relief and pity. “What happened to you!?”
“F-fell…off the ladder,” he said weakly, trying to raise his head up to her. “And…hit my knee…my shoulder…can’t walk…might be broken…I d-don’t know.”
“You poor, POOR thing!” Irina exclaimed, feeling an onslaught of those same maternal feelings overwhelm her. “Here, let me…let me pick you up and take you to bed!”
Warren was in no position, and in no mind, to resist. He had spent hours on the floor, trying to move, but the effects of the fall, combined with the preexisting weakness in his virus-riddled body, prevented him from making any headway. He had tried calling for Irina for a time, but after a short while his voice had gotten hoarse and he had given that up as well.
Contrastingly, even though Irina had spent the last 20 minutes calling for Warren, her voice was as vigorous and robust as ever, if a little husky.
“Goodness!” she cried in surprise as she felt his cold skin against her warm flesh, “You’re as cold as ice!”
“I’m…I’m…g-glad y-you found me,” Warren stammered, his teeth chattering along with his trembling body.
Irina couldn’t believe how turned-on she felt right now. When she had been panicking and searching for him, that had been all there was on her mind, but now that she had found him, she was experiencing another flood of erotically-charged emotions. Her nipples were rock-hard instantly, and she could almost FEEL her mammary glands churning deep within her huge breasts. She was WET. She wanted to yank down her top and stick a fat, engorged nipple in his mouth. And something told her that if she had in that moment, Warren would have just started sucking away without a second thought. But still, something held her back. She was upset that she felt this way in THIS situation…it was time to call Sarah.
“Come on,” she breathed down at him, bending down low, and sweeping him off the ground with surprisingly little effort, “Let’s get you warm.”
About ten minutes later, Irina had just gotten finished handing Warren a mug of hot spiced cider that she had prepared from the kitchen. He was tucked into his bed, with ice packs on his right shoulder and his elevated right knee, with strict instructions from Irina to take the ice off after every 15 minutes, and then put it back on 15 minutes later. Warren had wordlessly complied with all her orders. Even though he was still in a lot of pain, and reeling from the disorientation of his ordeal, he couldn’t help but be in awe of his housekeeper. The way she had just effortlessly swept him up in her arms, and carried him all the way through the mansion, up the stairs, and into his bedroom, truly emphasized her strength and endurance…not to mention the size comparison between the two of them. Warren had been hypersensitive to the proximity between their bodies for over a week, and now he had literally been in her arms, with his face and body squished up against her huge boobs, for minutes on end. He had hoped that Irina hadn’t noticed the erection that had quickly risen from his groin. Of course, she had.
“There now, it’s all ok Warren,” she said soothingly, petting his face lightly with her hand. This gesture, which would have been decidedly off-limits before, now came to her naturally; she didn’t even have to think about it. “Drink that cider down and I’ll bring you up your dinner, ok?”
“O-ok,” said Warren, nodding. “Uh…th-thank you…Irina.”
“I’m just so glad I found you,” she responded, shaking her head. “That could’ve been a lot worse than it was, Warren. It’s my fault that I let you go missing for that long.”
“N-no, I…it’s…it’s not your fault,” said Warren. Something about Irina’s choice of words there…”let you go missing”…sent off alarm bells in his brain. But he was too grateful to her help now to dwell on it much.
“Well, you just watch some TV there, alright?” she said, “And I’ll be back with your supper in…uh, in just a few minutes.”
“Great…thanks Irina,” said Warren genuinely, flipping on the TV.
Irina left the bedroom, making straight for her own quarters. She went directly to her nightstand, pulled open the drawer, and fished out the card with the number Sarah had given her weeks before. Irina was breathing heavily, and her heart was starting to race. Why exactly this was she wasn’t sure. Was she…nervous? The image of the gigantic nurse massaging Warren’s small shoulder with her huge hand flashed through her mind.
She shook her head, clearing it, and took out her phone, pausing before she started entering the number. It was 8:30 at night…perhaps too late to be calling? Irina lowered her phone, thinking that maybe she was just acting hysterically.
‘What am I even calling her about!?’ she thought to herself. It was a question that she wasn’t quite able to answer. Where to begin?? She was confused about the intensity of her own erotic feelings towards Warren, about her strange new preoccupation with her own size, especially compared to Warren’s…AND she didn’t know what to make of her increasingly powerful urge to…BREASTFEED him?? There was so much to talk about. But most of all, Irina was upset that she had experienced these intense feelings at a fever pitch right in the middle of Warren’s most vulnerable moment, when he was actually in real distress. This didn’t seem to be ok, and she needed someone to talk to about it.
“But if you have anything concerning going on in your head, I want you to reach out to me, ok Irina? I’ll pick up.”
Sarah’s words echoed verbatim in Irina’s head. She woke her phone back up and dialed the number. The dial tone droned twice as Irina’s heart hammered away in her chest. She sat down on her bed, hardly daring to breathe.
“Hello?” came a deep, feminine voice from the other end. Sarah’s voice.
“Uhh…h-hi…hi, um…S-Sarah?” Irina had been caught off guard by the nurse actually picking up. She wasn’t really sure what she had been expecting, but it wasn’t a nearly-immediate answer.
“Yes, this is Sarah,” the nurse replied pleasantly. A loud stretching sound echoed out in the background. Irina had no idea what it was…it sounded almost like…a thick roll of masking tape being pulled out. “Is this who I think it is?”
Again, the nurse’s tone caught Irina off guard. She sounded so…pleased.
“This…this is Irina,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady. “Uhm…remember me from bef—”
“Oh I remember,” said Sarah cheerfully from the other end. Again…that stretching sound…echoing out behind her. “I’m so glad you reached out to me, Irina! How can I help?”
“Haha! Uhm…oh, wow…heh, uh…where to begin?” laughed Irina, feeling an intense sense of relief.
“Begin wherever you feel is best,” said Sarah calmly, staring down at Jeff Stintum, whom she had just finished strapping to a table with leather restraints. She held up a complicated-looking pumping device to Jeff’s face, and his eyes grew wide with fear, even as his long, thick cock stood completely to attention, directly up in the air. She grinned at Jeff and shook the device in his face, flicking her tongue back and forth at him.
“I’m just running a little experiment at the moment,” continued Sarah pleasantly into the phone as she tilted her head to her shoulder, holding the phone in place with no hands as she glanced behind her. Two small men, both of them well under 5 feet tall and very skinny, were kneeling, their clasped, upheld arms in restraints, at the far end of Sarah’s living room. Both had been dressed in mouse costumes, complete with drawn-on whiskers and prosthetic ears. Sarah bared her teeth at them and hissed, causing them to tremble and fear and back up from her on their knees. Aside from a cat-ear headband that she had on, Sarah was completely naked…but a huge, black, latex catsuit lay on the ground in front of the two mouse-men…a threat of what was to come.
Sarah turned back to Jeff and ran a huge, red-nailed finger down his big cock, causing him to shiver in pleasure. On the other end, Irina blinked, confused. Did Sarah have a huge pet cat or something?
“So, anyway, like I said, just running a little experiment…while I play a little game,” resumed Sarah amiably, taking up her phone again with her hand. “Tell me what’s been going on, Irina. How’re you doing? How’s Warren?”
Comments
Valkyrie Cain
So is this an alternate universe? I was surprised Jeff was specifically named as I felt if this was an alternate reality Sarah wouldn't be with him but she clearly is so I'm not sure. I think the Whipple Virus is too world changing to not have been mentioned in Stintum so I assumed this is an alternate reality. What's more Sarah's size and Jeff's diminutive stature seemed to be exclusive to them with everyone else being normal. I got the sense Sarah used her medical knowledge on both of them to manipulate their size. This story could have them be infected by the virus. If this isn't the same universe as Stintum or summer vacation which I think fits easily into Stintum's continuity, it's an interesting idea. I just hope Irina can resist Sarah's more dehumanizing interests. She's nice and cares for Warren and their dynamic is kind of heartwarming while being thick with sensual tension. One of my favourite dynamics.
CW Moss
Oh my, that was a hot chapter!
