Enter the Amazon Book 4


"But you want these tits, don't you?" she queried, hands raising up the proferred mammaries for his inspection. Even now, you crave to lick, suck, and stroke my....endowments." she gave a quick jiggle for emphasis. "Yet you dare not embrace my bosom, for your impotence would be a terrible embarassment; imagine! A man given the chance to fondle and worship breasts like mine! Breasts that put canteloupes to shame! Breasts with firmness like unto bowling balls and yet the softness of a wet dream!

"But I can sense your desires! The lust, the craving is ingrained too deep in a man's soul! Your age stops you from growing a shaft firm enough to penetrate me, yet the bosom, the full swell of teat and tit is such a thing of beauty, that you yearn for them all the same! I shall surprise you, old and horny man, suck them! suck upon these tits, and you shall never need fear your impotence again!"

But before Deon could make a response more coherent than outraged sputterings, a calloused hand grasped hold of the auburn mane of this sex-crazed tourist and yanked backwards with a vigorous and unsympathetic tug.

"This peepshow is over, slut!"


"Wh-why do men and w-women date?" she asked him. In spite of himself, Pablo found his rage and fear softening. This one, this shorter female was not like the others. She had not confronted the captured nature guide with the beastial estrus and haughty lust as had the others.

"To see if they can grow to like each other." The harsh curses and defiance Pablo normally resorted to seemed hollow and unnecessary before this petite, naked girl. She was certainly one of the female abominations that spawned regularly on the transformed estate of the notorious drug-lord, yet she was weaker, less aggressive than the others.

"But....if a man seems to be an acceptable mate, wh-why does the woman not tear off his clothes and couple with him at first sight?" Her pale-grey eyes were genuinely puzzled, her face as wan and forlorn as a woman could be with the beauty of a world-class fashion model. Pablo shook his head with a wry grin.

"Real w- ...er....human women...they must be selective when they choose their men. For....humans, bearing children is difficult, and time-consuming. A woman must find a man that she can bond with, connect on a deeper level, a man with whom she can connect in her soul. Some do otherwise, some do not always find soul-mates, but even still, a woman must consider her men carefully." The pain of being tied-up spread-eagle against wooden struts embedded in the ceiling seemed to fade at these innocent, yet improper questions.

"I must...I am so....what is the word...curious...about human customs...." Her words had an untraceable accent; but it was remarkable that she was able to speak at all, having been spawned so recently from a plant pod. But Pablo knew to expect that once the Seal on the Counter-Balance had been broken, the spawn produced would have extraordinary abilities and knowledge, apparently a form of race memory. All to resist the spread of their ancient enemy.

"I am... a runt," she reported. " I am too small, too weak to struggle with the others in the mating muds. If I...If I cannot overcome an opponent in the muds, and reach climax....then...then I cannot become fertile! What is the purpose of my existence then? Should I be thinking of...another way? A...human way?" Interesting, Pablo thought. He had named her Platina, from her unusual, grey-white eyes that seemed almost platinum-like. She had indeed seemed to be the outcast, runt of the litter. Her petite frame and slender build made her outrageous bosom seem especially awkward; the jutting canteloupes were a burden for one of her slight stature. Her warm complexion was a soothing amber in which her skin and hair seemed nearly the same color; and she had a classic, feminine vulnerability that aroused protective instincts in the restrained man very different from the crazed breeding-bitches that regularly milked him of sperm.

"I want to believe that.....if there is no hope for me among my own kind...m-might I find a place among the human world?" It seemed unlikely for a freak of nature that mimicked humanity as a sexual parasite, but Pablo didn't have the heart to tell her no.

"Nothing is impossible." He assured her, that maxim seeming more apt than ever these past few days. Her hands began to caress his naked thigh, and a thrill rippled through him as Platina's hot breath teased his exposed, semi-erect member. But she could sense him turning away.

"Why do you turn away when one of the Offspring tries to suck upon your cock?" Platina asked, with perfect innocence.

"I must answer your question with a question: Why do you feel the need to suck upon my cock?"

"I....it...." it was difficult to put her primal drives into words. " There is...a great need, a great....burning...between my legs," she gestured to her naked cunt for emphasis. "When I see a man....there is a great desire for him...I need...I need him to be...inside me. Then....there is the shaking in my lips." Her mouth puckered, and she gazed with unabashed hunger at his groin. "I know what to do...I feel it....I feel how to suck the cock..You will enjoy it! I know it! I feel it!" As she spoke, there came to Platina's voice a frenzied tone; as if speaking about her urges made them more powerful. She sniffed his naked groin and her tongue darted out for a sensuous lick of his rod.

"N-n-no...y-you cannot become....r-respected in human society that way..." Pablo protested, trying not to enjoy the lurid caress. Her softly innocent doe-eyes raised to his face in genuine, innocent confusion.

"But....do not all men crave wild sex with young women? Am I not attractive?"

"N-no...but human women do not behave this way....human women seek something far beyond sucking men's cocks and becoming pregnant." Her face was imploring....pleading...

"Human women seek something your mother-mistress cannot conceive; they seek love."


Brunhilde Gerty knew something was desperately, terribly wrong. As she squirmed upon the hard linoleum of the outer hallway leading to the communications center for airport security, she found it a struggle to remember her own life.

Instead, her mind was being assaulted by eerie, impossible images of animals - she was the animal! Lions, bears...earthworms...tapeworms....dinosaurs.. Why? How? It was that strange, wicked, naked tourist-slut. Why had she felt the overpowering need to touch those breasts? Those pillow-soft mounds that taunted, tormented her! Brunhilde herself being completely flat. Yet...yet she had sucked them! Without understanding why, her lips had encircled the bulging bulbs of tit and suckled deeply of a fruity, impossible nectar. Why? Why had she been compelled to do it? The answer seemed inches away... She grunted, feeling her aging flesh tighten and fill with a strange, robust vigor. The heat, the fiery heat in her breasts was beyond endurance!

Brunhilde had long suffered from depressing recurrences of breast cancer, and numerous surgeries and harsh treatments had burned away whatever youthful beauty she had left, leaving her a curveless, sexless, middle-aged husk. She'd been lucky on balance; still healthy enough to be credible as a security guard.

Why think of that now? Why did it matter so much that she hadn't been with a man in twenty years? Women just didn't need sex the same way that men did, why did she crave...no....she did not crave a man....she was starting to desire...all men, she wanted orgies!

The images returned, more focused, vivid and disturbing that before. As Brunhilde clawed at her throbbing, inflating chest, she suddenly dove into the mind of a placid female buffalo, nursing a young calf....then she was a cow...doing the same...the sea....she shared the mind of a female blue whale also nursing her legless young.

She...she hadn't had breasts in years! Not since the second round of surgeries! Yet now...now swells of rounding flesh began to rise into view like yeast-laden bread dough...it took her a moment to remember bra-sizes....cup sizes...she...she hadn't even bothered - needed to wear one in years! She arched her back on the cool linoleum, straining from what appeared to be plums beneath the skin of her chest, widening and enlarging her once-flat bosom to accomodate. But by no means where her neo-breasts finished!

Brunhilde barked out a cry that was half snarl, half yell as a rush of orgasmic animal memories asaulted her. She was a desert lizard, appraising a lithe male whipping about in a species-encoded mating dance. Finally, she was in darkness...no...sex...rutting, sweaty mating...but not her...she was a venereal parasite, a mite of some sort, eager to spread...to procreate.

She leapt to her human feet with renewed vigor, her pants gone, her legs sleek and toned with chiseled beauty. But...her tits! And tits they were! She cupped her ripening bosom as the fleshy tangerines widened and throbbed, alternating between a creeping growth and jiggling leaps of expansion!

Her cunt clenched...so tight! It was a though a horde of...of....orgasms were barricaded in her slippery slit, unable but yearning for release! Brunhilde snarled, the smoothing skin on her face drenching in sweat as her new bosoms heaved - which way would they go? She'd observed that her ripening orbs leapt forward in size when they jiggled, and widened with the slow creep.

"JIGGLING!" She announced through clenched teeth as the sweat-stained remnant of her blue uniform was strained by globes the size of grapefruit blossoming towards a melon's girth. It seemed that all her doubt, inhibition, and shame was being drained away into them, such civilized emotions no longer troubling her waking mind.

She stumbled through the hallway, confused, lusting, joyous, frightened....she placed a hand on the row of windows showing the monitors and technical equipment used by the authorities to monitor the airport. That woman....that strange, terrible, beautiful naked woman had been through here, and where once there were stocky, swarthy male officers going about their rounds and chatting on occasion, now the room was filled with curvaceous young women caressing pillowy breasts right on the cusp of impossible size. They grunted, and thrashed upon the naked laps of their male prey sitting in chairs, unconsciously ripping and shedding their clothing. Out of eleven men there seemed to be only four left.

From the outside, the floor of the monitor station was not immediately visible; but momentarily a naked and impossibly delicious young woman arose with a flourish of her sweat-slicked, coppery hair; a long tattoo of a feathered serpent coiled around the woman's throat and neck. Yes...she remembered...

There had been a guard named Rico who it was rumored had once worked for a cartel in Venezuela; but he'd gone straight and was trying to turn a new leaf; and Brunhilde couldn't help but notice this woman had the exact same marking that Rico did - it seems he'd turned a new leaf in more ways than one.

The male guards were rapidly being replaced by salacious sirens who rejected clothing as surely as they rejected chastity. The situation was starting to resemble some sort of adult movie with absurdly gorgeous women in the most unlikely roles. If the four men now remaining noticed their fate; it was less compelling to them than the bobbing breasts, savage kisses, and sopping cunts that rutted and raged upon their steely members as the men spasmed with desire.

Yet, none of this disturbed her as much as it should have, because the middle-aged German could think of nothing but her own bosom. Her breasts...they seemed to have...peaked. Seven inches of pure teat from chest to nipple with a bulging girth even the brawniest man would have trouble encircling with a pawing grip. Hers were at a limit; not any biological limit, but rather a limit of human respectability. Any larger, even a millimeter larger and her boobs would be freakish. She balanced at the cusp between maximizing her ability to stimulate human males, and offending society with the surging bounty only a custom bra could contain. Not that she ever wished to wear a bra again.

"STOP!!" he stammered; the smooth, metal door to the south, leading to the administrative offices was open; and an idealistic rookie stood there, pistol raised high in a shaking grip; and it was unclear whether he actually believed he could hold the Ladies of Nature hostage, or whether the firearm was to bolster his own flagging courage. Pudgy-faced, sweaty he stammered and clenched his arms, his inexperience as obvious to the females as the tent in his pants he had hoped in vain to hide.

"G-get your hands up! A-A-A-O-Over your heads!" he demanded.

"Why should we put our hands up there?" asked the she-demon that had once been Rico. "When there are so many more interesting places to put them!" Her fingers slid teasingly over her engorged and very female crotch.

"N-no...r-raise your hands in th-the air!" The rookie adjusted his grip, and cocked the barrel yet again.

"But that's not where you really want my hands....and her fingers disappeared in the jutting valleys of creamy cleavage formed by the bounty of her baby-feeders. And the Dance began. In all the Daughters of Gaia; the patterns were ingrained in them whether they were reborn weeks or seconds ago. There was something about the way she thrust her hips; a subtle pattern in the swaying of her bronzed ass cheeks; that triggered something in the men watching.

The snake-tattooed slut writhed sensuously, her toned flesh seeming to undulate luridly, almost bonelessly as her hips and belly swayed and sashayed in a secret rhythm that her male prey did not even know he was vulnerable to.

What made the Mating Dance all the more compelling was the blatant passion that seethed in those dark eyes that riveted the rookie with a stare of indecent intent. Behind that elegant face with the surreal beauty fashion models would kill for, simmered a cauldron of boiling estrus that would have terrified even the randiest teenage boy; could he comprehend the true magnitude of her volcanic sexual cravings.

For the metamorphed entity that had once been a hitman for a cocaine cartel, this transformation was effortless because the lust of this new body was so consuming, that it outweighed any desire, fear, or ambition might have once existed as a human. Her past was utterly meaningless; all that mattered was Gaia's will, and that will was that she might find a man to fill her cunt NOW!

The tattoo; all the security personel at the airport recognized it; the feathered snake winding around the woman's shoulders and neck but....but was it moving? As the she-devil thrashed and rutted in the air, was her tattoo moving with her? The slithery dance routine spoke of a tittilating grace and flexibility that proved equally hypnotic as the timeless signals conveyed by a naked, slick pussy and hardening nipples atop jiggling mountains of mammalian promise. Her nudity laid bare her naked arousal; combining with the fluidity of her bump-and-grind enticements to produce a mesmerizing spectacle that stole away a man's resolve before he even knew he was in danger.

The Rookie could do nothing but gape as the tattooed serpent seemed to tease and toy with the woman's breasts with its scintillating coils and forked tongue. He could do nothing but gasp at the discomfort of his impossibly rigid cock so confined as it was; his own state of male excitement was clearly no optical illusion.

Nor could he even be bothered to react as Patience approached and took the pistol from him. Eliciting a dainty grunt as her small, slim fingers bent backwards the barrel of the pistol amidst the groaning protest of the contorted steel.

His face...the rookie's face twisted as the remnants of his intellect warred against the primal onslaught from his most primitive instincts. The collapse of reason and willpower were audible, voiced as they were by a soft sigh. Rookie seemed grateful that lust had conquered logic, as he lurched forward towards the object of his desire; happy to plunge himself in the paradise between her legs without the burden of his intelligence and suspicion to warn him of dangers he no longer cared to resist.

The spectacle was almost enough to distract Brunhilde from her own expansive endowments. But again, that burning, the tingling continued! Her breasts...they had seemed to stop growing, yet that sensation remained! The sense of burning, tingling that she knew heralded the explosive growth of her juggs. Why? Her endowments were still for the moment, why did it feel like they were still growing?

She stumbled from the feeling of growing weight on her chest, though her breasts still seemed the same size...why? what? She grunted, relying on her new instincts to help her. She still had on her uniform shirt...she hated it! Hated the order, restriction and containment such clothing signified. Brunhilde would be free of this oppression!

Yelling, she tore asunder her uniform, to be finally, forever, gloriously naked at last! Her careening breasts took a moment, too long to stop bouncing, even considering their size. She fondled, caressed herself and found....

"I thought it was a nice touch. What with losing your figure to cancer surgeries." explained the nude, Italian tourist with the gauzy veil over her head, her skin glistening with various moistures from innumerable lovers.

"Four....four of them?" Brunhilde marveled. Two rows of generous tits bobbed from her luscious chest. The combined sensations, even from nothing more than the air, was stunning!

"The Will of Gaia does not always express in the same way in all creatures." Patience placed a delicate hand on the lower right tit in a comforting gesture. "Diversity makes us adaptable; there need to be different strains of the Ladies of Nature, to survive...adapt...and conquer."

But she had almsot forgotten about Deon; the crazy woman had made him suck from her tits, and a change came over him; like a spiritual awakening; and the grey-haired guard pounced upon Brunhilde, eager to plunge himself into both this new world, and her own wet slit. She worried that he would suffocate; his face and chest wallowing in the quadruple bounty of her firm-nippled bosom. It took only a brush from his erect, naked cock, just the faintest touch across her ripening, opening lower lips to set her off. And it was only then that Brunhilde's orgasms finally arrived.


The sexual predator that had been Lisa Sorrentino was pleased. She swiveled in the plush chair, totally nude, caressing the heads of the two men suckling her ample tits.

One was a dark-skinned native of the island, in command of the local airport security, perhaps fiftyish with a salt-and-pepper beard. He grunted as he swirled his tongue deliciously around her right nipple. At the other breast was a younger, blond man with a thin moustache; the liason with the American TSA agency. She had needed to permit these two to retain their manhood, and their humanity - to keep up appearances. So rather, she had simply exposed them to her own personal nectar; the unprecedented chemical compounds awakening their minds to the grandeur of Gaia's will.

She could tell from their coos of delight that both men had been fully Awakened, fully loyal to the Earth and the Ladies of Nature, but she permitted them to drink yet more, feeding her own instinctive urges.

The point had been reached when the Ladies would undergo an exponential increase in numbers - tens of thousands of humans at this airport to feed upon and convert. Patience had been a good choice - she and all of the nuns seduced with a zeal that was a wonder to behold. And that fervor would be coordinated and directed through the eternal Web of life-energy that encircled the Earth, allowing the Ladies to commune with each other and send telepathic commands to the Awakened men.

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