Containment Failure
Chapter 1

Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, NonConsensual, Reluctant, Rape, Fiction, Science Fiction, Incest, Father, Daughter, First, Pregnancy,

Desc: Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 1 - T. Lewdii spreads like wildfire. In this story, a new outbreak begins, and a father violates his young daughter. NOTE: The non-consent tags refer to the beginning of the story only. By the end, she will be well and truly into it.

It all began with a crunch. In this case, the all too familiar sound of a cover slip being broken by the lens casing of a microscope as I accidentally strayed too close to the stage. I bit back a curse, sitting up straight and rubbing my eyes to alleviate some of my tiredness. I'd been at work for a long, lime time- not even having been home for two days- but it still did not excuse the kind of stupid, stupid mistake one would expect from a clumsy first-year lab student. And I was hardly that; I was one of the best in my field.

The problem lay with my subject, the rapidly-mutating and devilishly effective single-celled organism that some wag had christened Toxoplasma Lewdii, despite it being in no way, shape or form related to that rather simple organism. This ... abomination ... was monocellular, but seemed to shift between a eukaryotic and prokaryotic state at will, defying standard biology. I felt I was at the verge of some great revelation, a leap of logic that would do Archimedes proud- if I could just grasp whatever was scuttling around at the very edge of my conscious mind.

Wearily, I made to clean the microscope stage and run my tests again; as I did so, warning klaxons sounded. My fingers moved reflexively, the incredibly thin but still razor sharp shards of the cover slip tearing through my gloves. I bought my hand up quickly; there was only a small scratch, and no blood. Behind me, the door hissed open, pressure differential in the lab sucking air in from the hallway to prevent an inadvertent spread of whatever pathogens might be in the air. I moved quickly, palming the slide and jamming my non-sterile hand into my lab coat before turning around to see had come in.

It was one of the higher CDC functionaries. He curtly informed me that there had been a chemical spill on the level beneath my lab, and that I had to evacuate; I nodded, turned my more sensitive equipment off and locked my samples down before leaving the lab. I knew that what I was doing was against protocol, but the cocktail I had been experimenting with, one that mixed a variety of DMSO-bound antibiotic agents, had shown great promise. Indeed, almost all of the T. Lewdii cells in the tiny film I was viewing were dead or dying, and I could not risk being quarantined, unable to work on a solution to the virulent plague.

Times had changed since the first signs of infection had showed. Now, the afflicted lived in vast, walled enclaves- not that they showed any inclination to get out. Rather, they seemed perfectly happy in their own little worlds, where food was shipped in as they needed it, leaving them free to pursue leisure activities ... and, of course, their own family members. The infected would succumb to random outbursts of hysterical lust, throwing themselves on their relatives in an absolute frenzy. Fathers and daughters, mothers and sons, brothers and sisters ... in the grip of their unthinking need, it mattered not.

And whilst they coupled like animals in heat, the rest of the world dithered. Some, more totalitarian countries had simply executed any who showed the symptoms of infection, but a great cry had gone up amongst the rest of the world, who felt they could- would- soon find a cure. But that had been long years ago now, leaving the uninfected in an uneasy stalemate. Many resented the free ride being given to the incestuous infected, though they could hardly be expected to work for their keep. Others were sickened by the thought of family members rutting with each other. More still were horrified by the idea of family members impregnating each other, and with the frequency and fury of the mating sessions, the growth rate among the infected population was many, many times above the world average.

But all that was by the by, I thought. I had returned to my locker room whilst I worked out what to do. I was tired, and in the mirror I could see red-rimmed eyes, bloodshot in a sure sign I was pushing myself too hard. The odds of my breakthrough coming that night were slim, and I did not know how long it might be before I was permitted to return to my lab. Besides, I thought, I should go home, spend some time with Leah.

I changed into my civilian clothes, disposing of the incriminating slide. Gathering my briefcase and greatcoat- it was growing chilly as winter advanced outside- I signed out and shuffled off to the bus stop. As I waited, I felt a tickling in my nose and throat. For a moment, my mind quailed; what if I had been infected? Ah, but no. A much more reasonable explanation immediately surfaced. I was standing right beside an amaryllis, a plant to which I was violently allergic. Not allergic to the point of anaphylaxis, thankfully, but bad enough all the same. I hacked and sneezed all the way home, nose running. I begged off, apologising to my fellow travellers.

As I arrived at my modest apartment, Leah came running to greet me, impulsively giving me a hug and a peck on the cheek. "Daddy!" she cried, glad to see me after I had left her alone so long. Ever the gentleman, I replied by sneezing all over her. Belatedly, I dragged out a handkerchief, but I hesitated to use it; she was wearing a rather low-cut blouse, and with unintentional precision I had managed to disgorge my snot all over her cleavage and top. I passed her the handkerchief, left her wiping away the sneeze whilst I rummaged through my medical supply for decongestants and antihistamines. "Pollen allergy," I sniffed. "Sorry."

She shrugged, leaning against the counter and watching with no little alarm as I downed a handful of pills. "'S OK," I promised. "I know what I'm doing. Just don't want to be giving my little girl another snot shower, eh?"

She giggled at that. I wiped my nose and held out my arms to her, inviting her to step in for a hug. Leah was nineteen, bubbly and carefree; the result of a one-night stand during my college days. Her mother and I had tried to make a go of it, and although the sex was phenomenal, we just failed to connect on an emotional level. The split had, in open defiance of common sense and statistics, been quite amiable; Leah came to stay with me whenever she had holidays, and here or there over long weekends or if she could steal enough time away from work and school to visit.

As I idly thought back on one of the many nights of passion I'd shared with her mother, I assessed my daughter. She was tall, slender, following after me in that regard. From her mother she inherited her olive skin, almond-shaped eyes, and high, pert breasts. Realising I was undressing my daughter with my eyes, I shook off the stray thought, fixed my mind firmly on the present, and engaged in small talk with Leah as we organised a simple dinner. She managed to finagle a promise from me to take a day off work to spend with her, as our time together was limited; I knew she was a little put out by the long hours I had put in at the CDC, though she was too polite to make an issue of it.

We made our plans- an excursion to the local mall, a movie she wanted to see, and perhaps some clothes shopping. It had been her birthday recently, and this holiday was part of my late gift to her; she strived to be fashionable, but studying and working part time left her with little time or budget to engage in bargain-hunting. I, on the other hand, lived simply and had a high-paying job; as I was so rarely home and work supplied most of my daytime wardrobe, I had plenty left over to spend on her. She kept trying to press for a figure throughout the meal, idly twining her long hair around her fingers.

After resisting for a while, I finally caved in. "Five," I said.

"Hundred?" Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. "That's a lot."

I had actually only intended to give her that much, but in a moment of madness, I shook my head. "Grand."

She squealed with glee, raced around the table and flung herself into my lap, wrapping her arms around me and showering my face with kisses. I lapped up her attention, then realised with growing horror that I was becoming erect! I panicked again. The coughing, sneezing and sputtering ... perving on my daughter... it could only mean one thing. I hurriedly excused myself, pretending I urgently needed to use the toilet. Locking the door, I sat down and tried desperately to conjure an image that could blank my mind, tame my rebellious loins. Nothing worked. No matter how hard I tried, all I could think of was my daughter's heaving bosom, drenched after I had sneezed on it.

With a rush, I remembered I had been hacking and hooping all the way home on the bus. Were they, even now, succumbing to the same infection, leering over their own flesh and blood? I knew I should call the CDC and have them attend to things, but I still half-hoped I was reacting to some placebo effect. I resolved to seclude myself for the evening, and assess the situation when morning came...

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