tagNonHumanLarvae

Larvae

byxxxecil©

It was her nipples that got me. Of course, I found her breasts themselves interesting enough, but it was truly her nipples that sealed it. The stripper’s tits jostled and cavorted upon her chest like fleshy grapefruits. She was tall too; yikes! the girl must be 6’ 5! As appealing as her toned and Amazonian physique was, ultimately it all came down to her tits.

I knew that a woman that tall, and in such athletic shape shouldn’t have breasts large enough to be easily compared with grapefruits, and from the organic tenderness with which they wobbled and quivered, they couldn’t have been implants. That should have warned me away. But when she pulled apart the flimsy stage-shirt she was wearing, and revealed the full grandeur of her melons for the first time, I knew I was hooked. She had a brilliant tattoo of a multi-colored butterfly shape between those tits. I gulped audibly.

A dozen red-flags should have gone off in the head of a rational man when she walked over to my table and slipped me that small, hand-written note. It said that her shift ended in an hour, and gave me directions to find her red Ferrari Testarosa.

“You worry too much, Chad.” Said Ben, the buddy that brought me out here, afraid I was working too hard on my biology degree.

“Since when do normal strippers just invite strange men to their cars?” I whispered with agitation.

“Hey, it’s not impossible! I know, I know, you’re afraid she’s on the Hunt. Look Chad, not as many women were affected as you seem to think. These days, anytime a chick smiles at you, you start lookin’ for fangs.”

“Well that doesn’t make sense, they sure don’t all have fangs, and if they did they’d be able to hide ‘em. The self-replicating proteins appear to be under the woman’s control.” I murmured warily.

“Look man, we’ve gotta move on and live our lives. Just ‘cause terrorists used a synthetic virus to contaminate the supplies of one of the most effective steroids in history doesn’t mean you have to go berserk.” Ben chuckled at my naivete’. “We can’t let the terrorists win, and until we find a cure, we’ve gotta be brave, man!”

From my graduate studies in biology, I understood all too well the consequences of the situation. Larvaelox, the most effective, non-addictive steroid in history swept the country a few years back, and I’d been studying it as part of my thesis. The word ‘Larvae’ originally meant ‘masked one’ in older English. And Larvaelox was proclaimed as a way to unmask a woman’s true potential. It didn’t seem to work on men, requiring a certain level of estrogen for a biochemical catalyst.

It was great; chicks lost weight, and most of that fat became muscle and bone. But the terrorists knew what a target it would be. One of them had a degree in molecular biology, and they were able to create a super-virus to contaminate the stockpiles. But something had gone wrong, the virus mutated, and the millions of women infected found a modified version of the drug was now produced inside their bodies!

“Sorry Ben,” I replied. “Not this time. I can’t risk it.”

“Suit yourself buddy, too bad. She’s a looker.” I waited until Ben had drunk himself into an unconscious stupor. Ben was a good friend, good enough that I truly regretted lying to him.

She was waiting for me by the red sports car. Dressed this time in a blood-red, sleeveless dress. The scandalously short skirt enhanced rather than concealed the toned grace of legs that seemed to go on forever. She nervously brushed a strand of chestnut hair away from her run-way model face. She opened the passenger door, and spent the next 5 minutes cajoling, and comforting me. Saying she just wanted someone to talk to. She talked about the way some men found her unapproachable, so rather than be lonely; she decided to take action. As I slid into the passenger seat, she soon began stroking my leg, as if I was trapped animal to be soothed. As the door locked, I knew that I had lost my last chance to flee.

Her breasts had drawn me, but her face held me in her power. The soft sweep of her features reminded my of nothing so much as a phoenix in flight. Her deep, green eyes transfixed me with her empathic sensitivity to my fears, and her instinctive comprehension of my primal needs. She continued to tenderly stroke my leg me as we drove to her loft. She needed to keep me calm, she needed to prevent me from analyzing my risk, at least until she got me into her apartment, by then it would be too late.

The champagne was a classic vintage, I tried to sound impressed that she would treat me so lavishly, but I should have been more worried about why she was trying to get me drunk. I drank deeply, it didn’t matter anyway. Now that I was inside, I was at her mercy. But nonetheless, I was still impressed that she was going to such lengths to put me at ease. She snuggled up next to me on the couch, smiling her chesire-cat smile as we toasted to…well…I don’t quite remember what we toasted to. One night stands?

I guess three glasses was enough, she took it from my hand and replaced it with her own, ruby red lips. Kissing, sucking, feverishly. Her hand wandered down, below the belt, as her delicate fingers grazed my tightening crotch.

“I-I thought you just wanted…to..to talk…?” I murmured in fright.

“Oh come on, you’re a smart guy. You know what I brought you here for.” Her sensuous voice was ripe with menace, as I heard the tell-tale stretching sounds. Yes, the self-replicating proteins were active now, I was close enough to feel the vibrations as her already considerable muscle mass began to increase. The slender arms brushing against me swelled as her biceps awakened. She grunted and shook as bones expanded and lengthened, providing a nest where her ever-mightier muscles could spring forth from.

I knew it was too late, but self-preservation can override simple logic, just as surely as male lust superceded that simple logic. I choose that moment to bolt for the door. When she tackled me, I could feel from the weight of her firm mass that I was already outmatched. I could hear more muscle-groups rippling, expanding, accompanied by her frenzied grunts of lustful fury. She hauled me to my feet and slammed me against the wall. Her Hunting lust was in full force now, there was no reasoning with her; there was no escape.

Her flexing deltoids hardened like diamonds under her skin, bulking up further even as her arm held me aloft. It was a Catch-22: The women were filled with an enhanced, hormonal lust that appeared to be even stronger than that of most men, but when they used their transformations, the super-proteins only increased their savage, sexual cravings.

“You’re not stupid,” she grunted. “You knew what this was about. It’s just the way women are these days.” I knew better than to struggle; her left arm that held me was still strengthening, muscles bursting as though trying to escape from under her skin, her veins led the way, running along the length of her arm, crowded out by pure sinew. “Do you have any idea how much that champagne cost?” As she growled, I felt myself rising even higher from where she had me pinned against the wall, as her burgeoning body grew well past 7 feet tall. I concluded that the champagne in question was not to ‘loosen me up’ so much as it was to diminish my willingness to resist being raped.

Her dress began to surrender, cloth failing before the iron onslaught from within. Her straps were the first to go, snapping audibly as they unleashed the jiggling payload of tits that were now more like cantaloupes than her previous grapefruit. The butterfly tattoo seemed to be flexing its wings, as though preparing for flight. Gritting her teeth, her other armed yanked and snatched, easily rending hunks of my clothing with each pass. She licked my chest hair with a throaty groan, and seemed to laugh with exultation as she tore off my pants with a single jerk.

Powerful, growing thighs tore through the seams of her own dress even as my own body tore through the air when she hurled me in angry passion. I was like a rag-doll, her single arm threw me so hard that I dented the plaster 10 feet away above the bed as I collapsed into it. Her hormones were completely out of control, she was beyond reason. “I’m going to get my money’s worth out of you!” snarled the slavering amazon, sweat beginning to drench her hair, as well as the tattered remains of her dress. In a few quick bounds, her taut legs crossed the distance in less than a second. I had made a critical error! Never run from a woman these days! I knew the fear of complete powerlessness, but I also knew the advice, given by the public service messages. Only through complete submission could I hope to survive; any attempt to escape would only result in broken bones.

Roaring with hormonal rage, my beautiful Butterfly grasped and hoisted me aloft over her head. As I hung there, my heart-rate accelerated yet again as I beheld her still-changing body. She was nearly finished with her super-protein growth spurt; sculpted arms held me effortlessly, buffeted by the atlas-like might of her Herculean shoulders, her mantle of muscle continuing towards the chiseled cobblestone of her abs, supported by the naked, bulging pillars of her sinuous legs, engorged with layers of pulsating meat. But that was rather hard to see at first, due to the swelling valley of her feminine globes.

She slammed me against her queen-sized bed, hard enough to break a few strings As she prepared to use me for her pleasure. My blood burned as I felt the enveloping warmth of her sweaty muscularity pressing down upon my frame. My body betrayed me, cock hardening as she placed me within her glistening folds.

“UUUNNHH! Some of us…don’t want a cure…” she grunted as she began churning her hips atop me. “There’s a lot…you don’t know…The drug…and the virus…our bodies…can produce it…if we can satisfy our cravings…our cravings for cock!…The hormones…in your cum…my body can use them to make more of the drug! The more I can get…the more…powerful…dramatic my changes will be!” hold on, this was interesting! Almost as interesting as the swirling grasp of her innermost muscles against my raging cock.

“Some women…we want to see…how far the transformations…will go…more cock…more of the drug! YAAAAH! More cock,…stronger, sexier I can…become. I want to push…the envelope!” and the strip club was of course the perfect place for any woman to lure the men she craved.

“Changing…again…I feel it…your cum…hormones…getting stronger!!

She glared into my eyes with feral lust, as though flaunting her dominion over me. I wasn’t sure how many times my cock exploded into her. But it wasn’t just new muscles, as I first thought, that she was growing as the Larvaelox coursed through her blood. Her eyes became vertical, cat-like, as her nails lengthened into predatory weapons. As she wracked the skin off my back, I beheld the two moles beneath her pumpkin-sized mounds.

“Yes!! Yes!! I’ve reached…another…threshold!! ARRRGHH!!” the moles swelled outward, expanding in sporadic jerks, as her second pair of breasts burst into being below the first. The dancing globes hanging above her pumping thighs leapt and swayed seemingly of their own accord, slapping into each other and reverberating with fleshy pliability. But in the end, I still retained the presence of mind to fasten my lips onto her lower left nipple as the ivory-white droplets of milk began to appear. That seemed to drive her into even greater heights of frenzied lust. She roared her pleasure, forcing me into her, smothering me beneath the tender weight of her massive udders.

I had a plan for survival; submit to her, lick and suckle her lactating breasts as they dribbled with milk, and submit. It wasn’t long before I lost track both of time, and of the number of orgasms we both experienced.

The scratches on my back had been bandaged, but my arm was dislocated when I awoke. OOOH! I think she pulled some groin tendons! Ouch! But I was alive; I had survived the night.

“You needed this didn’t you?” said my beautiful butterfly. Naked as she emerged from her shower. “You knew what I would do to you, and in spite of your fear, you had to have it; had to have me.” She was back to her normal, athletic, 6foot tall stature. But she seemed to like her new breasts; her jiggling rack swayed luxuriantly as she stretched like a lioness, chestnut hair plastered with moisture upon her face.

All I could do was nod.

“There…there is something I have to ask you..” I ventured timidly.

“Shoot.”

“I didn’t catch your name.”

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