Three Hundred Million and One

"Over here! You should feel this one's lust!" insisted the jiggly alien. The new girl stopped and stood closer, and began cooing as her flesh and hair warped into the Latina fantasy.

"Oohh...I want a Headset! I need to taste his desire firsthand!" the newcomer said.

"Mmmm....maybe you need to save up for a Direct Mating." suggested the second Coit'ii

"Hah! Not likely!" scoffed the new alien. "It would take a hundred Yearns to raise that much Chi-Chi, the best any of us could hope for is a Single Seeding." But the first one made a sneering sound.

"But I like to...I need to feel a man's sperm thrashing inside my cunt! I need to feel his hot jizz blasting into my womb..." the randy alien gave a husky moan. "And humans have so much..."

"That's what the Simulator is for." said newcomer. But the second one growled, and began massaging her pussy lips with her fingers.

"I need to breed! Here we are, on the most virile planet the Empire has ever discovered, and it's been almost a third of a Yearn since I've spawned!" bemoaned the alien shapeshifter.

The rest of the scintillating conversation was lost on me, as Dr. Cox's hover desk began to drift outside the range where I could hear and smell the sex-starved entities. Interesting...I had a lot to think about....

The Tower was massive, in width and height both. I didn't know what exactly my psychologist-captor thought that I needed to see; but despite her earlier claims of making a better simulator from studying my mind, I decided to observe anything and everything. We passed from a dark tunnel into a bubble-like public chamber connected with honeycomb entrances for floating platforms like the one my body was magnetized too.

It was a vast, common area – perhaps something like a lounge or cafeteria for the Coit'ii workers that tended to the human male sperm-harvest. There were innumerable floating pads for sitting or standing, and the chamber was clogged with hundreds of wet, aromatic Coit'ii. There was a vast variety of appearances here, as a multitude of different fantasies had been absorbed. The sight of so much slippery, buxom female flesh made me feel for a moment like the sleazy guy trying to spy on the Girl's Locker room; yet I suspected the reaction would be far different if I were spotted. Many of them gathered around platforms with a floating, pink-glowing orb upon it, which they gazed intently at and touched periodically with index fingers – some game? Perhaps some sort of menu-selection device for something? I had no clues.

The womanly creatures were naked yes, but....but as I studied them more closely, tried to block out the overwhelming potpourri of fruity-sweet aromas they radiated, I started to see that the situation was not so simple. I had seen that these beings release a sex-musk oil when aroused, but it seemed as though... here in large groups that the oils could be...decorative?

A few redheads to the left had a slick oil with a bluish sheen in the right lighting. Many others were dripping wet with something that left a rainbow iridescence if watched closely. And there was the glitter. Sparkly, festive motes sprinkled over a few dozens individuals, I saw green, blue, and purple sparkles amidst their wet slicked flesh. I noticed that there seemed to be groups; the blue-sheened sat together, next to the green-sparkled. Also together were the rainbow iridescent's. And I wondered; on Earth....er....Earth when humans controlled it, clothing not only concealed sexual interest and guarded against the elements, but it also conveyed status and occupation. It seemed that these body oils had a similar purpose for these aliens. Perhaps everyone with body glitter formed a particular faction, or had achieved some career plateau?

And I was still trying to figure out the aromas. I had noticed several distinctive odors from the Coit'ii that screwed me when I was in the Simulator; but in the real world, it seemed as though individuals could radiate a complete set of scents...where there individual musks and common musks? Again I smelled the citrusy lemon odor. Some of the apple-pie scent, and a vast array of muddled, fruit aromas. Did these....ahh maybe that was it! Perhaps spoken language was only the barest tip of their communication – I knew ants passed messages through pheromones – it must be the same with these beings.

What disturbed me almost as much as the shapeshifting was the familiar faces – I gulped as I saw a few familiar actresses amongst the mob. I'd swear that was....Angelina Jolie..dripping with the blue-sparkled body oil. And then I saw.... again! An identical face amongst the mob! But then I remembered how one of the aliens had made my roommate believe she was his Celebrity goddess Katharine McPhee. So there were a few Jolie-lovers amongst the men.

And it seemed there was....a problem! The two Angelina-dopplegangers were staring at each angrily, and pointing...some of the other conversations began to die down.

"What does it feel like to be such a liar!" sneered one of them, the full-lipped face of Ms. Jolie twisted into an angry sneer as she balled her fists, clear oil glistening. This fantasy had been taken from one of her more active roles, looking like a nude, bustier version of the actress about the time she filmed 'Tomb Raider'.

"You'll pay for your baseless slander, you tight-cunt prude!" snarled Angelina #2. The crowd gasped and paid even closer attention. Prude? Was that an insult? The second duplicate was more refined and made-up, looking more like Angelina during 'Mr. & Ms. Smith.' - If she were naked and covered in body oil with sparkling blue glitter.

"The studded shaft was MY design; don't think you can steal from me, you titless Nun!" spat back the first Angelina. Then it clicked in my head. In their culture – the translation of the word 'Slut' was a prestigious title of high esteem – then perhaps, the opposite would be true. Calling a Coit'ii a Nun or Prude would produce the same level of anger as calling a human woman a slut.

"You don't have the imagination to invent the Missionary Position!" accused #2. I was about to witness a cat fight! The others knew it too, and I shuddered from the overwhelming surge of lemon-citrus odor that seemed to come from both entities. Aliens in the forms of Jenna Jameson and a big-tit British Porn Star by the name of Lindsay Dawn-McKenzie, (saw her site purely by accident - ahem) began to clear a ring around the two actress-dopplegangers.

I was expecting hair-pulling or nail-scratching. What happened instead was an image that jarred me to the core. Two naked versions of Angelina Jolie slick with oil, one with blue sparkles, the other with clear oil launched at each other...and dug their fingers into each others sopping cunts. The other Coit'ii gathered in a circle and began to egg-on the combatants.

Snarling in rage, the two began to lick each others faces, necks and breasts as they both frigged each other's crotches with angrily-thrust middle fingers. Blue-sparkled abruptly bent down to fiercely suck upon the nipple of her rival. Moaning throatily, the clear-oiled Angelina mercilessly tweaked the engorged clit of her rival. And blue-sparkled Jolie-clone began to shudder...shudder with an orgasm that drenched her thighs noticeably, despite her body oil. Ribald shouts came from the clear-oiled cadre of random fantasy women, Singer-Celebrities, and Porn Stars. This section of the audience immediately bent over, displayed their gleaming asses, and began to spank themselves on their own bulging cheeks. I wasn't sure whether to snicker or groan. The motion was almost...celebratory? Ah...yes...in Coit'ii culture, rather than clapping your hands, you bent over and slapped your own naked butt to show applause.

My ear-implant warmed and buzzed, and I could hear the transmitted voice of Dr. Cox. "Our species instinctively employs a more advanced means of conflict resolution than the primitive fisticuffs common among your kind." There were so many jokes I should have told, instead I simply stared slack-jawed.

The two had collapsed to the ground, legs entwined as each struggled to bring the other to orgasm. By now, the already-impressive breasts of their Celebrity-template had begun to ripen and expand. Clear-oiled (The more tanned Angelina) had rounded assets large enough to contain a full bowl of cereal each, while her thrashing, blue-sparkled rival beneath her had swelled her mams to a little larger than grapefruit size. Clear-oil was on top, but blue-sparkly ground her fingers into the churning ass cheeks of her enemy as she began to grind their two naked crotches against each other. Their labia were so swollen with lust that they could be seen from my position. And it seemed as though Dr. Cox slowed her hovering over the battle site as if to afford me a thorough viewing of the pussy-moistening proceedings.

The competitors grasped each other under their arms, allowing their thumbs some space to tease and tweak the nipples of her rival. The Angelinas hooked their legs together to grind their slippery cunts against each other with more force, as each began howling loudly. A compound scent of bananas and pine needles blasted my sense of smell. I still couldn't be really certain of the significance of each odor. Their facial expressions were intense... harsh...competitive. It was in their nature; instead of inflicting physical injury, they did this....but why? And how do you determine the winner?

Clear-oiled, rugged Angelina was the next to gush. Her lips quivered and she made a slight gurgling sound as tremors of lesbian rapture detonated within her stolen body. Her breasts shook, as they plumped up three more inches, just surpassing the size of the heftiest grapefruits. And this time, it was the group of blue-sparkled alien sluts all sitting together that raised their dainty fists in triumph -

and proceeded to spank themselves on shapely asses stolen from diverse sexual fantasies. Hmm...the crowd gets excited when one of the contestants climaxes; were orgasms a way of...keeping score?

The lurid competition moved into high gear as the grunting, sweating, moaning rivals tightened their erotic embrace – thrusting their breasts against each other, and as each mammalian orb expanded with arousal, it deepened the cleavage and created rising swells of tit-astic splendor bulging sexily for every pair of eyes, also increasing the tension and friction upon their nipples. The Celebrity-duplicates licked one another's face and neck even as their crotches moved against each other yet tighter.

"Nnaaaaahh-hhh.." gasped clear-oiled.

"Urrrnnngkk.." grunted blue-sparkled.

The crowd edged in closer, as if a spectacular finale were at hand. It seemed to be important which one of the contestants orgasmed next. Sweat dribbled through and within the slopes of boobflesh, their asses rippled as naked groins spasmed in barely-checked ecstasy against the other and finally...at last...

"EYAAAAAAAUGH!!" It was blue-sparkled! The more elegant of the Angelina-clones. The tendons in her neck tensed as the rising tide of orgiastic fury claimed her. She made ragged, throaty sounds as her copied body shook like a doll with the strings cut – a very naughty doll. But her slick rival stood with a grunt, grasped the legs of her enemy and spread them wide open with a single motion – as if to make sure that all those present could behold the quivering cunt of her adversary – and smell the overpowering scent of pine needles. The Victor thrust her middle finger into the sweating, gushing pussy of her vanquished foe, then spread that finger over her own forehead, and tapped each of her nipples – marking herself with the essence of her rival? A trophy?

Predictably, her clear-oiled compatriots expressed their enthusiasm with more shouts and further ass-spanking. In Coit'ii culture, it was apparently acceptable to also slap your neighbor's ass. But in moments the show was over, the competitive lesbian sex had produced a victor, and left the loser sprawled upon the matte-green floor, a panting wreck of post-coital exhaustion. So the match went to whoever inflicted the most orgasms upon their enemy. Best two out of three. But the show was over, and that left...

Oh yes, I suspected my intrusion would not go unnoticed for long. Some of the aliens could probably sense my male lust, and looked above them at the captured human, trapped under Dr. Cox's platform with Coit'ii sex-based magnetism that defied human physics. It was almost a given that my cock would be rock-hard, and the aliens pointed and shouted in lustful delight. Many made rude pointing gestures towards their own engorged cunts, while at least a dozen of them caught of whiff of one of my own fantasies and morphed into the image of a statuesque, platinum-blond fitness model with exaggerated hips and porn-worthy boobs. I know, perhaps not the most original fantasy, but there it was. It was strange how violated I felt, these slutty aliens pointing at my dick and dredging up from my own mind deeply personal sexual ideals and throwing the gorgeous image back at me. I suspected that the response was instinctive, but....perhaps a little like breathing. A human does it without thinking about it.

But from above me was a faint beeping sound. And then the voice of Dr. Cox, speaking in a semi-agitated tone.

"...authority grants me broad discretion in my psychological studies to perfect human-adapted Reality Simulators!" The red-headed alien scientist seemed flustered. She must have a live communicator device in her desk top.

"Yet your data indicates that the Awakened Specimen is among the top 5% in sperm count for his species."

"That is true, but I don't see what bearing that has on my neurological studies, Anjiiulliishsuzz."

"You will refer to me as Supreme Andrologist!" barked an imperious, feminine voice.

"Yes...Supreme Andrologist.." Cox seemed reluctant to use the title.

"You forget why we are here; the mind of Man is of negligible value compared to his virility! Homeworld's policy is clear; every human male is to be induced into as many ejaculations as possible without inflicting permanent damage! The Specimen in question is Awakened, and therefore a requisition was placed for an accelerated regimen of direct matings!"

"I understand....Supreme Andrologist." conceded Dr.Cox.

"Do you? Do you understand that the Breeding Dockets are overfilled with paying applicants of the highest status? Do you understand that it is a key function of the leading Andrologist to allocate males to fill this demand?"

"Yes...yes of course."

"And you...Senior Xenoneurologist will just have to scan his brain in between. You will cease using your administrative powers to stall the flow of semen – or else I have the power to strip your authority from you! The Sperm must flow!"

"The Sperm must flow." Dr. Cox echoed. "Do you require my station algorithms to screen applicants for maximized eugenic potential?"

"No," answered the Supreme Andrologist. "The first applicant has already been selected."

**********

With the flick of a few buttons on her desk, the exotic physics that contained me had changed. I was now encased in a man-sized, pink bubble of semi-tangible energy, and I was sent shooting down a side tunnel with a slit-like opening suspicious in its design. I got my first glimpse of the true Coit'ii military. These females stood at firm attention beside a blue sphincter-door. They carried glowing staffs of hot, neon pink. Their faces were stern and disciplined, and the total package was something like Paris Hilton crossed with a blond version of Cindy Crawford, with body oil that was speckled with moisture, as though they had been dipped in vasoline, then sprayed with a hose to get little beads of water all over. They were both identical in appearance, and it seemed as though they were stoically resisting their instinctive urge to absorb sexual fantasies from me.

And both of them were mountainously pregnant. Each belly jutted outwards into what should have been the third trimester had they been humans, round and bulging with navels pushed out. I grimaced in confusion, to be honest they didn't look in the least intimidating. My force-bubble came to rest in front of the stern, pregnant soldiers. And I saw something flickering out of he corner of my eye. What the – they looked like....like cocks! Mobile, blue-colored floating penises hovered in the air nearby me, but I could tell from the flash of lights and circuitry that these were machines. Huh. One of the penis robots hovered in front of me, as if observing me through its cyclopean slit. It flashed and made a beeping tone.

"Registration acknowledged." said Cindy-Paris guard on the right in a bored monotone. The penis bot then swept downwards and thrust itself with a squelch into the pussy of the guard on the left. She gave a soft moan while her eyelids fluttered. The blue, mechanical member quivered inside and gave a few thrusts into her alien womb.

"Order Authenticity verified." declared lefty. The robot removed itself, gave a confirmation beep, then the blue membrane before me squeezed open, and the force-field rolled me inside.

**********

It was a shower...more like a locker room really. I had somehow emerged into the cement-floored chamber with wooden benches and steely lockers to my right, such as one might expect to find in an athletics building. Through the gap in the walls to my right I could see the hard, white tiles and wall-mounted showerheads one might expect in a locker room. There was no doorway behind me, and I remembered that the Coit'ii are quite expert at simulating reality.

"Only the most desperate of men would dare enter the Girl's shower..." began a familiar, velvety voice. "Only when his cock is boiling with need... when the urge for female flesh overwhelms fear of retaliation; the timeless male instinct that no amount of clothing, nor civilization can hide."

"I...I know that voice..."

"As well you should; you rutting, male beast...yet you deny your nature...and for that – I must have my revenge..." There was a whiff of lemon-citrus in the air.

"What the hell? Revenge? You Coy- tee sluts destroyed civilization and conquered my planet to harvest our sperm! And you....want revenge on ME?" I was more than a little incredulous, and more than a little naked. The force-field had disappeared, but also the hard cap that had been on my penis made a clicking sound and fell off. The voice was ahead, and to my left, behind the tiled wall, and coming from the showers.

"How can you appreciate the shame one of my kind my bear from her sisters to be rejected by a male! What it does to your status! It is a humiliation that will haunt one of my kind for decades! And you will pay, yes...you male beast...you will pay for my humiliation with your sperm!" I thought I detected a softer, sweet odor... something like black liquorice. She emerged then, standing in the gap in the wall that led to the hard-tiled shower. Yes...it was her – I remembered the first Coit'ii I had ever seen, back in my own shower...er...what I thought was my shower back in their Reality Simulator. The hauntingly elegant face was the same, slicked-back light-blond hair, with that pulse-racing, voluptuous-athletic figure that I never expected to find in real life. Despite the toned strength of her form, the shape of every inch of her body still exuded absolute femininity. A surge of desire boiled up within me and twisted into my gut. I shuddered with longing as I tried to close my eyes to the assault of impossible beauty that I felt not only in my groin, but in my mind as well.

"Oh no...not this time..." hissed the delicious being strutting and posturing the engorging lips of her labia and rolling her extra-wide hips, probably the same diameter as my car tires – a secret image I'd harbored for years. Her plump lips opened as she seemed to pant – her emerald eyes aflame with that alien hyper-libido I've come to notice, far beyond the natural drives of human women. "This time...you will come to me...your cock crazed with the need to thrust..." She raised her arms over her head in blatant display of over-developed feminine charms this alien had pirated from my wet dreams. "Thrust into my deep wetness; your primitive mind consumed by your howling need to sow your seed." And I was trapped here, and this time the dirty-mouthed alien shape-shifter wouldn't take no for an answer.