Into Her Mouth

Help me.

"T-The fuck?" Fred stepped back.

"I didn't hear anything," Rachel said. Then, smirking, she said: "Why don't you try fingering her?"

Fred blushed, furiously. "R-Rachel, that thing looks like my sister and-"

"And?" Rachel asked. Her hands slipped along his chest, her fingers tracing the lines of his muscles as she leaned over his shoulder. Her voice dropped to a soft purr. "Doesn't that make it even better? I've noticed your sister is hot. And...well...how many times have you told me she brought some boy back home and fucked them. Your house's walls aren't that thick." She chuckled. "Admit it. You get kinda hard at the thought of her..."

Fred's cheeks felt as if they were alternating between hot and cold. His cock was hard despite himself -- bulging against his jeans as he looked down at the plastic pussy lips that Rachel's maglight shone on. That shine made them seem to almost glisten.

This time, the groan from the mannequin was definitely audible.

Please...Fred...

Rachel's hands undid his belt as she whispered. "Do it. Fuck her."

"W-What is going on?" Fred whispered.

"I picked you," Rachel said, quietly. Her hands cupped his balls and Fred felt the tip of his hard, hard cock press to the smooth, cold -- and yet strangely soft and pliant -- folds. His hips surged with the instincts of a young man and he groaned quietly, his cock sliding in inch by inch by inch. He panted quietly. "I picked you of all of them."

Fred gritted his teeth -- and tried to pull back. This was wrong. But instead of pulling back, he felt hands on his back, sliding down to his ass. Rachel shoved at him and he leaned forward, gasping as he felt the cold pussy around his cock. And he felt it squeeze him, as if he was fucking something living. Rachel's arms felt like bands of iron, impossibly strong.

"Don't fight it, honey," Rachel said.

"I don't-" Fred shook his head. But then he felt Rachel's arms slacken. He drew back -- only to shove back in. His hips slapped against his own sister's and he groaned as he heard the quiet moan of the mannequin. She sounded like she was trying to speak -- but she couldn't around the almost silent gasps that echoed from her motionless face.

Rachel sighted. "I suppose I must educate you, then." She grinned wickedly, then nibbled on his ear -- and Fred's thrusting started to become more and more natural. Her arms moved less and less, even as Fred's balls gently slapped against the mannequin's belly. "Cities, for most of human history, were unnatural. They were places where people came to die. Plagues. War. Crime." She snorted quietly. "Did no one ever wonder why? Why did they flourish, when to come to a city was to die with smallpox and typhus and worse?"

Fred panted heavily, his head swimming.

"Because they're the mouth, honey," Rachel whispered in his ear. "They're Her mouth."

Fred panted quietly.

"But time has changed. Her favorite food has gotten a bit smarter. And Her tastes have become..." she paused. "Refined."

Fred groaned as he felt the mannequin's cunt clench around his cock. His hands reached around, cupping and squeezing those unfeeling breasts. He pinched and tugged on their nipples and for a moment, he could hear her begging.

"More...faster..."

Rachel nipped at his ear and continued her sermon -- her voice fervent and her eyes glazed with the madness of a zealot. "She needs us still, but She doesn't just need us dying. She needs us to become part of Her. And She rewards those who know Her. Those like my father." She smiled. "Solomon Bates."

"S-Solomon Bates?" Fred gasped, his eyes wide. "B-But your-"

And then his voice was caught up in the grunt that swelled through him. His balls clenched and he felt his cum rush up into the mannequin. He didn't feel her shudder or tighten around him. She was just unfeeling plastic. When his cock slipped back and out of her pussy, she was dry as a bone -- even his cum seemed to be gone. Rachel chortled, then slid her arm around the mannequin's belly. She lifted the lightweight store display over one shoulder and smiled at her boyfriend -- her eyes still gleaming eagerly.

"Come on," she said, taking his hand. She walked with him towards the back of the store and using her shoulder to gently push the swinging door to the changing room open. But rather than leading into a musty, unused changing room, the door lead into Rachel's bedroom. The walls were covered with posters for the latest bands and the window looked out over the garden that surrounded her very nice home. Fred looked back at the door behind him -- and his eyes widened as he saw that he and Rachel had walked through a seemingly ordinary wall.

Rachel set the mannequin beside the corner of the room -- tilted so that, at any time, someone could walk up and just mount her.

"Honey?"

The gentle, male voice was familiar to Fred. He turned to the door that lead to the rest of the house. Rachel's mother and Rachel's father stood there. Their faces were gone -- in their place were empty holes. They weren't people.

They were walking puppets.

"I'm glad to see it went well," the mother-puppet said, her voice monotone. "Will Fred be joining us?"

Rachel laid back on the bed. She slid her arms behind her back and grinned slightly. "Well, Fred? Immortality, riches, comfort. In exchange, all you need to do is provide components." Her eyes danced. "Believe me, they are quite happy. Beli. Brandon. Not that it's easy to tell them...mmm...apart anymore."

Fred stood there. He looked at the two puppets. He looked at his girlfriend. She was sliding her jeans off, revealing the pert, moist lips of her sex. Her fingers went down and she spread her sex -- revealing the pinkness within.

Her voice was quiet. "We can raise a component ourselves. She needs one that is prepared. That doesn't need to be trained."

Fred took a step closer to the bed. His cock ached with arousal.

Slowly, he grinned.

"So," he said. "Does...She have a name?"

"Of course," Rachel said. Her hands took hold of his -- dragging him forward. His knees touched the silken bed sheets and Fred found himself delighting in the faceless gaze of the puppets. They waited nearby -- ready to step in at any point they were wanted.

"What is it?" Fred whispered. He kissed the tips of her breasts. Her perfect, hard nipples filled his mouth and he tugged on them, his eyes closing tight.

Fingers traced his hair. They drew patterns -- swirling, endless patterns that reminded Fred of An infinite recursion of interlocking gears. He could see in his minds eyes, a vast chamber underneath the surface of the Earth. Within, he could see millions of humans -- billions of people -- all of them existing for nothing but the continuation of something vast and awful and awesome. Something that defied everything.

Fred's mind shattered -- shattered in the same way as Rachel as he embraced her tightly, his cock pressing to her sex. He thrust in and reveled in the simple joy of not being on the menu.

Rachel's lips formed a moan as she inducted him.

"Gaia..."

THE END