Bimbo Outbreak Pt. 16

Tom looked down into his PamelaGoddess's softly glowing jade eyes as she stared lovingly back up at him. Bouncing and squeezing her incredible milky jugs around his jutting enormity sinful enthusiasm. Her full kissable lips gently parted and her model perfect face flushing with her hot desire for him and him alone.

"Please, Tom. Please, my King. Gift us with your Love." She begged softly, barely audible over HollyGirl's sloppy suckling and earnest moans. "We need you, Tom. Give our little girl your blessing. Fill her pretty throat with your holy seed."

Her beauty was beyond that of mere mortals, it was transcendent and Tom blasted a thick load of sticky jizz into his HollySlaves happily mewling mouth just at the sight of his exquisite Goddess. As close to all-powerful as he felt, Tom knew this overwhelmingly stunning creature, his lusty PamelaSlave, would always have some measure of power over him.

Not control, never that. The dominant role was his entirely and she would never desire it anyway but inhuman beauty like hers begged to be possessed. To be fought for and claimed. Never to be discarded or put aside. For all the many women who would enter his life, Pamela would sit above them by merit of her impossible grace, fanatical fidelity and sheer physical presence.

When Tom went forth to reclaim this broken world she would be at his side. When he built and ruled his kingdom, as Tom was destined to do, she would be his Queen. A Goddess to reign with him over his new world order. To perch contentedly in his lap as he sat naked astride his mighty throne and eagerly stroke off his ever-gushing manhood as they looked down on the world together.

"Tom, my Love, my Lord. I must tell you something," Pamela breathed in a trembling voice rich with devotion. All the while sliding those magnificent silky tits around his pounding man-flesh. His BabyGirl was still bobbing her pretty blonde head just beneath Pamela's perfectly sculpted jawline and chin. "Ms Summers told me some interesting news..."

Ms Summers? Ah, yes. One of the lesser infected who had been lured to Tom in his fevered frenzy. The one with a new strain he hadn't immediately recognized.

"Tell me." Tom said gently and reached down to gently caress her face making her gasp at his touch then hungrily draw his thumb between her full plush lips to suck upon.

A quick thrill ran through him and then his little PrincessSlut was slurping again. Greedily swallowing another surge of his potent GodSeed shot straight into her hot young throat. Withdrawing his hand with a wet pop he rested it softly on the small blonde's moaning head and began guiding her suckling pace.

"Mmmm~ yes Master." His sultry Goddess had shuddered in a small micro-climax from the brief moment of contact and Tom could smell the wetness spilling down her magnificent thighs, "Ms Summers teaches at the college and told me of how she contracted her particular strain. It was from a strange creature the teachers and student body are calling 'The Beast'..."

Pamela walked him through a concise description of what Ms Summers had told her about the Beast and its relation to Dr. Turner. Where it had been last spotted and the effect it had on those it rutted with. For rutting is what it sounded like, the same mindless animalistic brutal fucking that had all the hallmarks of a man gripped in fever of the XXX-virus.

Tom was both appalled and intrigued. It sounded to him as though Dr Turner had found a way to twist his physiology in such a manner as to ride out the bouts of XXX-fever in some monstrous form that robbed him of all rhyme and reason. The creature... 'The Beast' that the good Doctor created was in many ways a warped image of what Tom had become but lacking in any sort of fineness, beauty of form or rational cognition.

He was conflicted, on one hand Tom respected Dr Turner. A man of keen intellect with empathy for those around him. He was a fine example of resolve and iron will to have resisted and survived so far into the epidemic, all while still trying to maintain a semblance of a normal life. Returning to the school each day to watch over his students despite the madness surrounding them.

On the other hand, what was Dr Turner becoming now? An over-sexualized recreation of the Jekyll and Hyde monster stalking the school and its surroundings in a mindless haze of lust. A self-made abomination powered by the ball-bursting frenzy that personified one of the worst parts of the XXX-virus.

Tom remembered what that mania had felt like and for all the humping, sucking and cumming, it hadn't felt good to feel his sense of self and identity slipping away. What would be the long term effects of this strange condition the Doctor had created? Would he ever find an equilibrium within himself or would it simply tear the poor man apart?

Tom didn't know and felt a pang of sympathy for the man he had once called 'teacher'.

"...then I instructed her to seek out 'The Beast' and bring him here to us. Only then would she earn your Blessing, my Love." Crooned his Pamela-Slut up at him, firmly bouncing her spectacular cleavage in time with his BabyGirl's happily sucking mouth and stimulating his mighty GodCock to new heights of burning bliss.

Despite that, Tom's brow creased in a mild frown. "Bring that creature here? Tell me why."

"For two reasons my Master, my King. The first is so you may consult with Dr Turner about your unique response to the virus if he is in his right mind. The second is to cow and subjugate the Beast if he is not." She replied with a serene confident smile, her tone slowly growing heated at the notion of him, her Lord and Love subduing the hulking monstrosity. No doubt in her mind that he was fully capable of doing so.

Looking down into her glowing green eyes, sensing that complete confidence in him and his indomitable will, Tom knew he could do it. Either way the die was cast, he would meet with Dr Turner, learn what he could from the man and then one way or another he would deal with the consequences.

Tom found that he was not adverse to the presence of other men in his present state. They were no threat to him but they would have to recognize him for what he was; the One True Man just as his women did. As all women eventually would.

He was the Supreme Alpha now and he would not tolerate any challenge to his new mastery or future rule. Though if things played out right, the Beast could be a potentially useful weapon to add to his fledgling arsenal. Tom for all of his many merits--and heavens knew they were boundless--was still only one Man after-all no matter how great.

"I know you can do it Tom, my Love." Pamela whispered up at him breathily.

Her arousal was clear in her heated expression. Her earnest tit-fucking grew in speed and intensity as Tom pushed his happy HollyPrincess's face down further into Pamela's bouncing cleavage. Feeding the SchoolSlut more of his tumescent girthy length and prepared to gift her with his next climatic explosion of hot Daddycum straight down her throat into her baby-belly.

"You did well, my PamelaSlave."

The simple statement from him, her Man, had his XXX-Goddess mesmerizing jade eyes rolling in her pretty skull and shuddering in ecstasy. Tom could feel the heat radiating from the molten hot gap between her firm thighs as she wallowed in his praise. He could smell her peaking arousal. He would have to properly reward her soon...

Or even right now.

Pulling his BabyGirl's gasping mouth off of his readily primed GodCock, Tom buried his fingers into his PamelaSlut's thick mane of impossibly soft chocolate locks and forced her down, filling her beautiful mouth with his bulging pulsating crown.

"My first Slave gets the final load."

Pamela let out a deep guttural groan of hungry desire while Holly caught her breath and pouted up at him but saying nothing. None of it even registered to Tom as from the moment he slid his aching turgid length into his perfect fuckpets gloriously hot willing mouth, Tom erupted.

The ecstatic feel of her languorous tongue, her full sucking lips, the wet heat of her tight throat sent him straight over a precipice. Burst after thick ropy burst of his hot GodCum shot into her hungry maw like artillery fire as he held her glorious face pressed down into her own colossal cleavage to take all of him in.

PamelaGoddess sucked and swallowed and gagged in earnest trying to take it all into herself but soon her cheeks billowed, her pretty mouth and gulping gullet filled to overflowing. A potent mixture of his hot manseed and her slick saliva escaped her plush cock-sucking lips and spilled down over her chin to pool in the soft fleshy valley between her humongous trembling tits and around his pulsating distended shaft.

Seeing this, his HollySlave squealed in girlish delight and pressed forward to begin licking and slurping up the sticky excess noisily. The feel of her lapping tongue and hot breath against him just further exciting Tom's still erupting manhood.

It felt like over a full minute soaring release before Tom brought himself back under control, letting his gasping gurgling PamelaSlut up off of his still rigid manflesh.

Because it was always hard now. Forever straining and erect. A fleshy totem to his supercharged virility. An object of prurient worship. Tom's XXX-Goddess moaned like a junkie being denied their pipe as he pulled her glorious cum drenched face away from it. A long sticky rope still connecting her pouting bottom lip to its throbbing tip.

"Thank you, Tom. Thank you, my Love but we need more..."

"Mmmmm~ Thank you, Daddy. I just love the taste of your hot Daddy cream..."

"My Lord, I have prepared the first of the offerings for you." Tania announced.

________________

Elsewhere in the city...

Sierra Monroe reclined in her magnificently appointed top-floor office and looked from the report pulled up on her tablet to the small white paper cup in her hand. Her trim pussy quivered at the smell coming off the sticky pearly substance within but she did not allow a hint of her excitement to show on her perfectly schooled face. She was in control.

"The addition of D-aspartic acid to the feed has been producing promising results, no?"

"Yes Ma'am. Dr Kline has been pleased with the increase in volume and potency."

Standing at the far end of the massive office was Tamara Wight, a towering brunette of a Mammazon and Sierra's strong right hand. Dressed in combat boots laced up to her shins, tight thigh and ass hugging camo pants, and a black sports bra that strained to contain great bulging mounds of womanly goodness she was the very picture of barely suppressed strength and brutal efficiency.

...and Sierra owned her.

That knowledge thrilled the gorgeous young CEO nearly as much as the contents of the sample cup now resting on the edge of the massive mahogany desk with silver in-lay and green tinted leather. Her pussy was all but vibrating as she stared at the woman who could break her in half with one hand and knew that she was in control, Sierra controlled her.

She would have to put her PA Anna back to work under the desk again soon. Poor, stupid Anna...

Getting up from her oversized office chair--a monstrous affair upholstered in the leather of some near extinct animal species--she crossed the plush hand woven oriental rugs that each cost more than her company payroll dished out in a year, cup in hand.

Her red soled black skyscraper heels clicked on priceless Corinthian marble as she stood before the massive woman and offered her the sample with a negligent gesture as though dismissive of the precious ambrosia held within.

She wanted it, oh how badly she wanted it but more importantly she needed a display of power over this mighty woman. Her sweet little pussy ached for it.

"Drink." The simple word came out flat and hard. A command.

"Yes Ma'am. Thank you Ma'am."

Sierra knew the effect she had on those around her, she was gorgeous. No, not just gorgeous, simple Skanks and Bimbo strains were gorgeous. Hell, even Tamara would have been called gorgeous by pre-pandemic standards but Sierra far surpassed all of them. She was ethereal... and she knew it.

Hers was the angelic beauty that would have had Hollywood's top modeling agencies on their knees begging and weeping to recruit her for their most exclusive clientele. Offering multi-million dollar contracts for a single snap-shot of her beauty. An actual glamor shot of Sierra would have quickly blown up and then crashed Instagram entirely in the days back before the pandemic.

She had supernova bright sex appeal that could stop air flight traffic. So radiant was she that all that looked upon her could only stop and stare. Their own wants forgotten, supplanted by her own will and desires.

As it should be.

She was ageless and divine. An unholy combination of the freshest bloom of youth and the ripest fruit of maturity making her age impossible to place. To call her hair platinum blonde would be a grave understatement. Sierra's hair--so long, full and wavy--was purest spun starlight cascading down her gracefully curving back all the way to the contours of her glorious Georgia peach of an ass.

Her skin and complexion wasn't simply flawless, it was the new definition of perfection. Rubber smooth and velvet soft, her pores were non-existent and the only body hair she possessed was on her head and face. All of it softly radiating warmth and life and most of all sex from her porcelain perfect epidermis.

Her classically beautiful face was more than stunning, it was a goddamn weapon.

The slightest pout of her perpetually moist plush lips could make the strongest men and women swoon. The hint of a sneer--a far more common expression on Sierra--could bring them blubbering to their knees. Her nose was small, inhumanly symmetrical and perfect. Her cheekbones were so high and sharp she could cut diamonds with them. Her eyes sparkling like twin shards of chilly palest blue quartz. Poets could write a thousand sonnets praising the elegant line of her jaw or graceful swan-like sweep of her slender neck and never pay them true homage

Her beauty was nigh supernatural, she knew it and wielded it as such. It was what got Sierra to where she was today. Got her this company--stormed and seized weeks ago by her tamed Mammazons--got her this lavish office and her elevated position. Stolen from the trembling hands of its previous CEO Rex Albion as he wept and fawned under the ten thousand kilowatt glare of her beauty.

The simpering swine's pants had been stained wet with his cum as Sierra had ground him under her boot heel. The ink on the corporate transfer documents hadn't even been dry before she had sent him below.

It had all been for power, the one thing she craved as much as other XXX-infected a mans semen. Power and Control.

That was what got her moist. No... it was what got her gushing.

Sierra had spent hours sitting behind that priceless behemoth of a desk with pretty little Anna leashed below it. Licking and teasing her twitching twat to blissful shuddering climax after climax as she studied video feeds of her ever increasing acquisitions, read progress reports of her growing successes and monitored the results of her vital experiments.

All to amass more power and control...

Sierra suppressed another wanton shudder of delight as she watched her Mammazon commander greedily slurp down the latest of her new product line.

Tamara Wright was extremely strong and strictly disciplined but even her eyes rolled and expression sagged as she took in the potent concoction. Sierra gifted herself a soft smile of satisfaction as she watched the brunettes thickly muscled thighs clench and spasm as her pelvis twitched minutely with tiny thrusts.

Potent indeed, Sierra would have to congratulate Dr Kline on the success of her latest batch. Maybe she would allow the smart little bimbo slut to kiss her boots or lick the six inch heels of her least favorite pair of Louboutin ankle boots.

It wasn't like she would ever wear them again afterwards anyway.

Her wardrobe was the stuff of dreams, or nightmares depending on your perspective. A collection of decadently expensive, uber exclusive designer outfits and accessories that pushed past six figures in price. Teensy tiny Valentino dresses. Thigh high Balenciaga knife boots. Hip hugging Saint Laurent midi skirts. Tight, barely-there silk blouses. Plaid Gucci mini-skirts that showed off her impossibly long legs to great effect, and endless racks of lingerie in the softest satin, the most delicate lace, and the sheerest chiffon.

...and Sierra only ever wore a single precious article once before discarding it like worthless trash. Another display of her wealth and power. Another example of her supreme control.

Even now she wore a brief mockery of a business suit with a form fitting jacket revealing and enhancing the deep valley of her cleavage with the hints of a dark Guia La Bruna lace cami peeking sinfully out from within. The whole ensemble was a deep blood red. Molded to her heavenly figure and contrasted marvelously with the smoky dark stockings and garters that made love to her achingly long supple calves and thighs.

It was an artfully crafted arrangement to accentuate her body and with a body like hers--tall, leggy, gloriously busty, eminently thin and effortlessly fit--she deserved a new outfit everyday. She knew it and she made sure everybody else knew it too.

Catching an errant dribble of the precious shining goo that had escaped the corner of Tamara's quivering lips, Sierra spread it down the length of a slender perfect forearm. She watched as her skin absorbed the miraculous liquid, leaving it slightly healthier and more vibrant than before. It was like magic and the implications of it shot another bolt of heat into her steamy nethers.

Once she had it in sufficient supply and quantity Sierra promised herself that she would bathe in the precious fluid. Just as Cleopatra had once bathed in milk, enhancing her beauty to impossible dizzying new heights until she stood above all others like the queen Sierra knew herself to be.

This was the latest source of her power. Her newest means of control and it was inspired. Even if she did say so herself.

It was just a simple matter of looking at present market opportunities.

Because even as society burned to the ground around mankind, a clever XXX-infected of Sierra's particular strain could still make a profit sweeping up the pyre.

Supply and demand. It was fundamental and so obvious if one just stopped thinking with their pussy for more than five minutes straight. It was men, or in point of fact, their seed. Sperm, semen, spunk... whatever you wanted to call it. There was an ever-dwindling supply of it as the demand for it continued to grow exponentially.

What was a keen, if ruthless, business woman to do but seize the means of production?

Down below, deep underneath Albion Aromatics Pty Ltd rested the great prize of all her scheming and machinations. The culmination of her Machiavellian planning and the hard work of her underlings. The key to Sierra's future...

Her "Pig Pens".

Oh sure, she had heard a few of the others in her employ call them 'The Stables' or 'Milking Rooms' but who knew better than Sierra what they really were? It was the place where she kept her livestock. Her chattel... her pigs.

They came in the form of twenty seven uninfected men locked up tight in a repurposed and refitted animal testing laboratory. Secure under lock and key and bound into custom built milking machines.