Enter the Amazon Book 3byxxxecil©
(The Theme of this story was determined by a fan who then secured XXXecil's services as a writer.)
Part 8: Botany Lesson
"I....I don't understand." Muttered the naked woman, golden-brown skin glistening vividly as she writhed in libidinous hunger upon the white linoleum.
"That is because you have not fully embraced your racial memory; the new instincts filling your mind." She seemed to be some sort of eerie, jungle-dwelling sexual cultist. The golden-embroidered patterns on her glittery robes were a panoply of spiders, sun-images, and odd-looking runes. The naked women still grappling with her transformation remembered something from her past: Many of those ancient patterns were....Incan? Yes...that was knowledge possessed by Celeste de Lourdes, The nude creature, compuslively fondling her swollen, rosy-capped breasts was no longer Celeste, she was no longer truly human. But she didn't understand yet, not fully.
"Your.....transition may be confusing," The raven-haired mystic explained as she ran her slender hand across the burnished sheen of Celeste's sleek belly, down below her Venus mound, to diddle a bit with her engorged, reddened clit. "I have been birthing spawn as fast as possible, and there it is easy. The mind when young is blank, open, and empty. The natural race-memory, the instinctive patterns of knowledge imprint without difficulty. But you....." The mystic brought her plump, strawberry lips close to the changing woman's ear as she whispered tantalizingly.
"You have decades of knowledge, experience...all must be bent, shaped, transformed. You are no longer, and never again will be Celeste de Lourdes, it will be interesting to see what you do eventually become."
"B-but..but why...why do I need...to touch.....so much?" The new creature asked, as she slipped her hands inside the open robe of the mysterious, mother priestess, fondling the full, silken globes of hard-nippled mammaries before moving further down, down to grip in both hands the bulging hemispheres of a tense, warm buttocks. The green eyes of the breeder-mother narrowed in response to her question, then her expression turned quizzical for a moment. If anything, she was soothed by the lurid fondling performed on her by the writhing she-creature.
"Tell me, child: How much do you know about......Botany? What do you know about the ways plants reproduce?"
"N-n-nuh...not much.....almost...nothing....the human....Celeste....she was trained in....Journalism...n-not biology." The creature confessed; though the face was basically the same, internally the feminine entity could no longer pretend to be the same person. The Priestess nodded.
"Consider this: During sex, with any creature, any entity that reproduces with two sexes needs a way to....stimulate growth after fertilization is complete." As she spoke, the dark-haired mistress bedecked in Incan symbols straddled the quivering pelvis of the new entity, their mutually engorged vaginal folds mingling...caressing....teasing themselves and each other. "The growth of the young mustn't occur too soon, or too late - but when conditions are right, life must begin, the embryo must begin its life, its maturation. And plants have some unusual means to kick-start their young into growth." While explaining, the Incan harlot pinched the nipples of the female that had once been Celeste. She grasped the rosy nipples rhythmically, methodically, as her sopping cunt began a rocking motion to grind the two sexes together.
"There are some long-lived conifers that actually require a forest fire to remove an outer layer from their seeds before those seeds can grow; there are many plants that depend upon animals eating their seeds before those same seeds can fully germinate. Many ways to awaken, provoke plant seeds to begin their lives....and the organism...that wonderful organism that has infused both of us with her DNA also has...particular requirements for her seeds." Celeste arched her back beneath her mistress, unleashing a passionate grunt as a rush of sensation burned in her womb. It was as though a million needle-points of liquid pleasure were exploding out of her cunt all at once.
"They...They will come for you...Priestess..." murmured the short, half-naked man tied and handcuffed to steel loops in the west wall. He still wore his many-pocketed Safari-style shirt, but his pants were long gone. Obscuring his manhood was a young woman who looked like nothing so much as a nude porn starlet 8-months pregnant with triplets. Beneath her nut-brown skin, the muscles in her throat were outlined as she greedily deep-throated the man's rigid penis.
"N-now...that the Trust has been broken, all will know of you....soon, all will know of the horror...you have unleashed...upon the World!" One of these horrors squealed with delight as she felt his hard cock twitching with readiness within the liquid silk of her moist mouth as she fellatioed him with a tongue-twisting expertise matched only by the most jaded of whores. Yet the expression on his broad face was one of anguished exertion, strain and tooth-grinding denial of the sensual assault taking place between his legs. But the dark-haired Priestess only chuckled.
"You will....not laugh when they come....with guns...and tanks...and bombs....they will use force...as much as needed....to stop plagues...epidemics..." The bound man shook his head as he held his eyes closed even while admonishing his captor. It seemed he was denying, resisting the natural reflex that must result from the tender ministrations of a naked woman with lips like the caress from a rose, and tits that wobbled like wide-aureoled, over-grown coconuts.
"Oh Pablo....dear Pablo...." crooned the Priestess mockingly. "That is why we are here; that is the first step in the plan!" Her teasing of Celeste's nipples increased in speed as the new entity shimmied and shook with orgiastic delight. "By controlling Marcos, with his political connections, I will have access to the corridors of power in this country! We shall penetrate the inner workings of this government - through the cocks of those with the power! Before they ever learn the truth; it will be far too late!" She punctuated her statement with musical laughter.
"They will not come with guns; silly man....YOU will! You will cum inside the mouth of my spawn! You will jet your seed into her yet again!" Her lips twisted with a sardonic sneer as she taunted her male prisoner.
"NEVER! I...have given you enough of my seed! I have failed myself enough today....not one more drop!" Insisted Pablo, muscles straining with corded futility against the constraining handcuffs that bound him to the wall. "I....shall not....must not orgasm....must not....climax.....your...abominations shall no longer use me!" Beaded sweat dribbled down his furrowed brow with the intensity of his attempted resistance. The nude, pregnant female servicing his raging member rose up a bit higher, cooing as seductively as she could with the thickness of his engorged rod entering her mouth, and thrusting down her throat. Was her womb growing, throbbing with life even as Celeste watched?
As if responding to Pablo's challenge, the nude slut rose up from her hands-and-knees posture to more of a sitting position, rising up as she gently raked her fingernails over Pablo's ass. A long tongue - too long it seemed looped and wrapped around the pulsing shaft of manmeat between her lips. She opened her lips wider, blowing cool air around inside her mouth and over his wet cock, adding extra variety to the cornucopia of sensations that whittled away at the nature guide's rigid resolve.
But he would no longer surrender to them! He would not look upon that pixie-perfect, elegant face of the unwholesome bitch that should not be, the bitch slathering his cock in an ardent quest for his semen. Celeste turned to behold the lurid contest, as her mind continued to shift. Curious, the entity thought, as her pussy quivered against the sex of the Priestess straddling her. The human, Celeste de Lourdes would have been appalled at this impossibly perverse display. But the new Celeste felt only a twinge of excitement and a jealous craving. It was as if The Priestess read her thoughts.
"Oh no....not for you, young one. You have a more pressing need!" Her mistress thrust several fingers into Celeste's quavering cunt. "Look," she brought her hand back into the new girl's vision, the probing hand had been covered with shimmering, tiny silvery sparkles. Like cosmetic glitter, but brighter. "You are now part of a fantastic life-cycle, and it is time to play your role!" With that, the Priestess smeared the silvery glitter-spores upon the throbbing, baseball-sized tits of the new Celeste, and rose. Grasping the girl by her shoulders, she helped her stand up again.
Outside the white living room, beyond a glass sliding door was a manicured lawn where the grass had been cleared to make way for a squared slick of brown, wet mud. There were three more of the abominable spawn standing here; their youthful faces darkened with savage cravings and dark desires. The first two had the same, raven-black hair, a taller girl in the middle had an auburn brown cascade over her green-within-green eyes that shone with illicit cravings. Their skin too, had begun to sparkle with that silvery glitter from the breeding spores of the plant whose life-cycle they were intended to complete.
Celeste snarled, why should these kids have bigger breasts than she!? They didn't have the right to bear plump mounds of girlflesh larger than a man's clenched fist! And so high! The taller girl, in the center had boobs thrusting up proudly, bulging below her coffee-cup aureoles. The two in the center had splayed breasts, their bodies screamed with the suggestion of a muscle-clenched mating, voluptuous forms to incite men's desire and bear their young smoothly, and often.
"Follow your urges; obey your instinct!" hissed the Priestess. But it was not a matter of resisting or succumbing to the sharp desires that seethed in Celeste's blood; her brain was still changing. Neurons were rewritten, transfigured and altered until the she-creature had no thought except to engage these new spawn.
Rushing through the open sliding-glass, New Celeste tackled the sisters, and the four of them collapsed naked into the mud. Writhing, squirming, entwining nude legs and bare breasts. It was each slut for herself as the grappling began; each female driven by a maniacal urge to use the bodies of each other as hardpoints to masturbate themselves. Pussies widened amidst a perverse thrashing of mud, buttocks, and wobbling juggs that jiggled with tremulously swirling trajectories with each grasp and thrust.
"NOOOO!" Pablo howled. Why did he look!? WHY?! If Pablo had not seen the thrashing, naked, mud-wrestling sex-pots as they thrust their genitals against each other, he might have held out longer! But there was no denying the truth; The image of a sleek, wet ass and wobbling breasts were burned into his brain, and the damage was done.
With each spurt, there was a tiny sob, as jet after creamy jet of hot semen rocketed from his well-lubricated rod through the puckered lips, past the tittilating tongue, and down the throat of the pregnant breeding slut assaulting his member. He could feel the truth; the terrible ecstasy that came from coupling with these....these unwomen grew greater each time. Soon, the pleasure would become so intense, that he would no longer be able to even dream of resistance. Soon, Pablo knew, he would no longer be sane.
Part 9: Wet Dreams
It was like drowning, immersion in a deep, warm sea. Yet the General was not struggling for breath. He did not want to escape from the soft, soothing grasp from any urgency to survive, but rather from a desire to emerge into a world of new, and exciting possibilities.
But swimming would not work; direct propulsion from kicking limbs would not send the General to the surface any faster. Rather, it was pleasure that would send him up....upwards. It went without saying that he felt more alive than ever before, acutely aware of his body....had he been losing weight? Must be; for his beer-gut had been replaced by smooth, toned flesh. A hand shot to the General's crotch. Was it his own hand, or that of another all was blurred, and uncertain.
What was undeniable were the shooting streams of raw pleasure coursing outwards from his crotch. As though...as though a nugget of electricity was embedded deep below, between the legs, forcing him into heights of ecstasy never dreamed possible. Higher....Higher....he felt himself moving upwards towards the light, with every caress, every teasing touch of physical enticement. The General knew he must rise higher...to fulfill the mission. But...what was the mission....?
It was.....a training exercise as part of a cooperative venture between the governments of the United States and Brazil....not exactly routine, but it had been an uneventful assignment....and then...then...something had happened; there were strange mechanical complication on the return flight.....taken hours before the plane had been cleared for takeoff...and then...then something incredible had happened. It was difficult to remember. The General recalled a burning surge of desire, passion and fury that was beyond reason or logic.
The last thing the General could remember was a fiery urge to wallow naked outdoors while procreating, mating with an endless parade of women who were too gorgeous to be real. As he rose upwards on a rising tide of carnal bliss he almost gasped with the remembered drive towards copulation, his career did not matter, National Security did not matter. The weighty international issues and global threats he had grappled with for decades seemed.....trite. All that mattered was sexual release and the fertilization of new life. It had happened, he knew. The General felt alive, fertile, in a way that he had never experienced and did not make sense to the rational mind.
But the concern that normally would have caused the General to stop and examine the situation was gone; replaced now not by a mandate to defend, serve, and protect, but by a gratification over successful fertilization, coupled with a burning mandate to breed with others, and then others.
The chest was the first spot on the General's body where the pleasure exploded into an awesome jolt that commanded his attention. It was more than just the pleasure of a gentle, erotic touch; it was as though something was...emerging...bursting forth.... and then, the pressure, the bliss, the tingling fire throbbed between the General's legs, and he felt freer, lighter, liberated and energized as he rose up through a warm, watery limbo of altered consciousness.
He did not yet understand the first set of images, those images where he had somehow merged with those animals, from past and present, becoming different creatures, different people. Reptiles, birds, extinct, ancient life-forms from the sea...he'd been them all...he'd also lived life through the eyes of a jaded, New York prostitute on her back with an aroused client raging inside her wet slit. That image, especially seemed crucial and noteworthy for reasons that would be clear in moments.
Just a little higher, a little further, and he would understand the images, understand the feelings, the impressions, the whispers from a vast, over-arching web of instinct, intent, and primal urges. These last two ideas were most important; crucial to the General's future. A whore, racking her nails down the back of a moaning client, the man's back arching as he spurted into her... or rather into a condom; such a waste the General thought. What an odd thought? Why should he...she....think such a strange thing?
With a lurid groan, the freckled red-headed woman arose to a sitting posture, fully awake, her breasts wobbling like coconuts waving in a tropical breeze. She felt the coarse sting of clothing - she hated it! She began to shrug out of the dull, green jacket she wore. It had markings, medals, strips and labeling. One label read "Gen. McWorter" Her green eyes narrowed. Ah, now she remembered; the human male that she had grown from had a significant rank in his society. Yes....the memories....his expertise were still there - now under the control of a slick-skinned woman who seemed scarcely older than 20, with a ripeness of figure and gracile elegance of face that could earn her a millionaire income in any country on Earth.
She caressed a taut nipple, moaning as she ran her legs over the fabric of the floor near the seats that were now filled with copulating pairs. She could easily become the whore she'd dreamed of, yet she must not be bound by the rules that restricted other such women, to waste sperm in a condom!? Ridiculous! She would open herself to any man, all men! What a thrill, a delicious thrill to contemplate the life of an unabashed, unrepentant slut. More than that, the curvaceous red-head would be too restricted by the life of a whore; that would mean turning away some men if they lacked cash!
Her musings were interrupted by a moan, and a tackle from behind. A dark-haired woman with wide, sky-blue eyes and more conical breasts greedily thrust herself against the body of the red-head. The newcomer too, had just shrugged off a military jacket, but there was no way to recognize the man she had once been from the smooth, clear features of the wanton hussy, whose tongue was expertly weaving a trail down to the red-head's dripping cunt. There was a profound rightness to the sex act. Both women obeyed the urgent need to bury face and tongue in the pussy of the other.
Yes, all the women felt the over-instinct, the web of life that now filled their minds. But there was more; both soon discovered that by coupling, arousing one another, a deeper communion was possible. The brunette with the sky-blue eyes began forcing her tongue into the open, welcoming slit of the red-head, who herself began to lick the copious, girl-cum from the pussy above her face as the two continued their inverse coupling. This closeness of contact allowed their connections to Gaia to extend....into each other. The feelings and thoughts of each woman extended to the other as they gratified themselves.
What a joy then, to discover a wantonness to match her own, in the mind of the other, transformed neo-woman. For now, Lesbian sex was the will of Gaia, but very soon would come the time to spread their gift to other men. The two discovered that they shared the same attitudes, the same perceptions. These women did not evaluate men individually, did not consider whether a man was 'worth it' or not; all mankind was the same. All mankind looked to them like a great pool of nectar, a fruit tree defenseless and ripe. It was a prize to be won, a great cornucopia to be consumed for their own pleasure, and the benefit of the Earth.
Part 10: An Onerous Dilemma
He must have missed something. Alfonso Lusenchi, co-pilot of Air-Italia flight-69 must have ignored some crucial detail. What the short Italian with his curled hair and ebony moustache did know was that there had been strange cries of...passion from the cabin of the plane, a nearby intercom had been peppering the cockpit with inarticulate cries of what must have been great pain, a few muffled cries of ... "attack", and something that sounded like 'hijack', but now all the young pilot could hear were eerie moans over a panoply of...of...what was that? slurping? wet, and slithering sounds could reach the intercom, amidst the incoherent grunts.
"The emergency transponder signals are - " but Alfonso was interrupted.
"BELAY THAT!" hissed his captain and superior, the coldly aloof, by-the-book professional woman. Her firm features and finely lined cheeks seemed contorted in..in...the sensation that played across her middle-aged features was too euphoric to be pain, yet too urgent in its intensity to reflect gratification. "There's...n-no problem..." The captain grunted. Her hazel eyes fluttering. Her left hand tightly gripped an aluminum container of generic orange juice, elbow quivering from the arthritic stiffness that had plagued her since her thirties.