It's Always Time Act 05 Ch. 04


"Dee's putting out," Unyx said, watching Tomoe twirl, the honey-brown cleavage created by her Wonderbra spilling over the brassiere's push-up wire, bending it out of shape. "Tomoe's taking a yang bath." Unyx turned a sly eye to the skuzzy brunette. "Hm."

Tomoe's blissful smile twisted. "Ow!" She hunched over, hopping on one leg, hair falling in thick, lustrous locks down to her knees. Her black miniskirt split down the seams, revealing rosy silk panties. "Damn it, damn it, I can't believe I forgot." She reached behind her back, wrestling with the hook of her bra. Her panties sunk between the swollen globes of her ass, looking more like a thong than a pair of bloomers. The bra's straps bit into her shoulders, and no amount of plucking would unhook them.

"Ooh, dammit. Oh, I know!" Tomoe swung upright to a height of nearly six feet, hair fanning in crescent waves. She squared her shoulders and punched her elbows out. "Pow!" The metal hooks of the bra ripped out of elastic straps and the lingerie flew off her chest. Tomoe toppled, long legs kicking, her paroxysm of laughter making her breasts wobble.

"Jesus," Jo gawked. "She's Wonder Woman."

"Aren't we all." Unyx took Jo by the hand, felt the brunette thrill at her touch. "C'mon, let's get started." She urged Jo toward the flowerbed. She almost asked, What's your name, Jo?, but caught her self just in time. "What's your name?"

"Jo." The brunette wavered on her feet. "What're you going to do?"

Unyx sighed. The sounds of the fallow field played around them: Tomoe's throaty laughter, Raspberry's shuddery growls, CeeCee's susurrations of regenerating gel-flesh, Dee's fucking Eurydice insensate. "You said you heard Black Cherry in your head," Unyx told Jo. "What did it sound like? A walkie-talkie?"

"No." Jo thought. "It was like singing. Music. Not beautiful, but irresistible. I was dancing, all the time, no matter what I was actually doing. It felt like a mad dance."

"Blood music," Unyx agreed.

On the flowerbed, Tomoe grabbed her breasts, kneading and tweaking her chocolate-dark nipples between her long fingers. She inhaled, deep from the diaphragm. Her nipples climbed erect, thick as thumbs. The flesh beneath her hands swelled, forcing her fingers apart. She collapsed into laughter again, her tits weighty enough now to slam together, which just made her laugh harder.

Unyx gulped. "Uh, what were we talkin' 'bout?"

Jo, mesmerized by Tomoe's mammary extravaganza, managed, "Music. I think."

Tomoe rolled onto her tummy, presenting Unyx and Jo with her pert ass, and squashed dozens of flowers beneath her breasts. Her laughter slowed but her breath quickened as she dragged her new flesh through the sea of soft petals beneath her. She reached between her legs, pressed the smooth heads of tulips and poppies against her inner thighs. She swallowed the last of her giggles, pulled down her panties, and pushed the silken but firm flowers into her vulva. She rocked on her knees, gasping and shuddery, grinding against flowers and fingers, giving Unyx and Jo front-row seats.

Unyx swam lightheaded, her sex aflutter and aflood, her nanomek heating up with prickly need. Her Ursula half had never felt a nanomek powered sex drive before—little burning wires by the thousands—and her Nyx half had never felt an estrogen powered sex drive before, that swollen, spreading need. Got to simmer down before we just leap in and bury our heads in that succulent ass and glorious pussy oh God we can smell it from here. Unyx burned some of her last remaining nanomek to increase her olfactory input and wallow in the smell of flowers and sex but the brunette's funk hit her inner Martha Stewart like a combo brick wall/cold shower.

"So," Unyx said, wrinkling her button nose, "blood music. That's Black Cherry's nanomek—you called it 'nova-whatsis'—working inside you. There's just enough for you to hear, but it's not loud enough to pinpoint the source. We gotta turn up the volume inside you a little bit, but not too much. Then we can go in, find it, and turn it off. Understand?" Tomoe propelled herself to a silent orgasm before them, brawny legs rigid, muscles shivering. "Understand, Jo?"

"Uh. Huh?" Tomoe slumped into the blossoms and Jo came out from under her spell. "Oh. Yeah. Turn off the music. Sure." Jo turned. "What the Hell is that?"

Unyx held up a page torn out from the Sudoku book, covered in cryptic scrawl. "It's a binding." She grinned. "We've got a few tucked away in case of emergencies."

"Binding? Binding what?"

"We are going to bind ourselves to ourselves."


"No. Us. M-me. Unyx." The obsidian Goth girl touched a thin, long scar on her cheek. "Ursula and Nyx were in a car accident. They were close—Ursula inside Nyx, Nyx inside Ursula—but not close enough. To survive the crash, they sang the blood music together. And now, we are Unyx. But if we are going to stop Black Cherry's music in you..." Unyx's contacts of living ink spread into a full eye-mask. "you - must - sing - blood - music - with - us."

"Whoa, now." Jo hopped away. "You're cute and sexy and all, but I've had enough nova-whatsis music. I don't want to be a slave to the rhythm anymore. There's got to be another way."

Unyx nodded, ripping the page in two. "yes - separate - bind - Nyx - Ursula - keep - Unyx - Jo - separate." Unyx tore the page into fourths, made a square paper sandwich, and popped it into her mouth.

Jo scratched her head. "What you do that for? How does this binding thing work anyway? I sound like an idiot asking all these questions, don't I?" She gingerly inspected the foul bird's nest her hair had become. "I must look like one, at least."

"hardly." Unyx chewed, eye-mask dwindling. "Your friends ran away screaming. You stayed, asked questions." Worry flashed across Jo's face and Unyx added, "They're all right. Cops picked them up, I'm told. 'Kay?" Jo nodded. Unyx swallowed, continuing. "Okay. A binding is, well, kinda complicated. Hm. Oh! Think of it as sheet music for nanomek, the nova-whatsis that plays the blood music. You ever see one of those old player pianos, with the rolls of paper? It's like that. We, Nyx and Ursula, both had to consume the binding, or it wouldn't work."

Tomoe groaned, still lying flat but clapping her hands over her ears. "Yap, yap, yap. What a turn-off." She rolled over and sat up. Tresses of hair fell about her like a cloak of shadow, darker than Nyx herself. Unyx was struck by Tomoe's exotic beauty, her oval face, almond eyes, and honey-olive skin. Was she Indian? Japanese? Maori, maybe? Unyx could not tell.

"You done?" Tomoe asked. "Good. You really need to work on your air of mystery, little sisters. You explain too much. Next time, just make up something like, oh, 'bio-Gematria,' and tell her to look it up on the Internet later. Hey, look at this." Explosive new growth pushed aside the blossoms flattened by Tomoe's earlier passion, blooming faster, thicker, more eager. Tomoe brushed her arms through the flowerbed, purring in pleasure. "You know, any man that can make me feel this good..." She fell to all fours, turned about, and padded off through the flowers. "Deserves a reward."

"We're running out of time, then," Unyx said, unable to keep her eyes off Tomoe's swaying hips as she crawled in a beeline to the center, where Dee still plowed Eurydice into orgasmic oblivion. The binding sat in Unyx's stomach, an inert lump, a too-big bite of spaghetti. "We need more nanomek to get the player piano paper rolling." She took Jo's hand in hers again, leading her back to the flowerbed. "And you could use a yang bath."

Tomoe called over her shoulder, "That's better, but—mmf!" A cluster of sunflowers burst up beneath her, tickling her bare flesh, fluffing against her face. Her eyes crossed and she slid prone, cooing and cackling, clutching sunflowers to her chest.

"Oh, yeah." Unyx reached the periphery of the green bed. "Listen, Jo: Dee's focused his kuzbu, but when we step into the crop circle, you'll feel it full-bore. It's going to be a bit...intense."

Tomoe's voice drifted over the sunflowers. "Just quit yappin' and let it happen." Her head peeped up, dark eyes burning with mischief. "Or do I have to sit on your face to shut you up?"

Unyx paused at the verge of the flowerbed. Jo looked down at her. "Well?"

"We're thinking, we're thinking," Unyx said.

"Pfft." Tomoe broke through the wall of tall heliotropes, eating out an overripe sunflower head. Her eyes fell on Dee's heaving, sweat-oiled back, and the flower head slipped through her fingers. "I've got a bigger fish to fry."

"Now or never," Unyx said, giving Jo's hand a quick squeeze.

Jo's hand froze. "Sorry." She squeezed back. "You just feel so, I dunno..."

Unyx wiggled her fingers between Jo's. "Slinky?" Jo bit her lip, nodded violently, eyes shut tight. Unyx's liquid black eye-mask unrolled across her skin, coating her face from eyebrow to sharp cheekbone. "just – let – it – happen."

Jo nodded slower, bent down to tuck her fistful of dollars under a fallen branch. She straightened, smoothed out her dress, and gave Ursula a thumbs-up, her smile anxious. Hand in hand, Jo and Unyx crossed the border of tall grass onto the flowering bed.

Both girls startled stiff, then relaxed into little giggles. Unyx knew the sensation exactly. When Ursula was ten years old, her parents had thrown her a surprise birthday party. They had executed it flawlessly, with a feint party, a little weekend soiree with a few friends and modest presents, the sort of party Ursula always had. On her actual birthday, they took her to the community center for weekly violin practice, and instead there was candy and friends and candy and cake and candy and presents and a magician and candy and a belly-dancer and candy. It was simple, pure delight. Ursula had never felt that way again, had forgotten what uncomplicated pleasure—cake and friends and dancing and candy, candy, candy—could feel like.

Unyx felt it now. She cast any thought of nostalgia aside, let go of Jo, and embraced the air. "candy – candy – candy."

"Cumming," Jo groaned, knees buckling, dropping into a crouch among dozens of apple-blossomed amaryllis, their wide, white petals tinged pink, their fragrance head-spinning sweet. "Cumming, cumming, cumming." Her hair softened, thickened, its knots untangling. Licks of hair the color of antique brass fell into her face and onto her shoulders in luscious waves. "This is a yang bath?" The bruises on her arms and legs disappeared. She gasped, lolling through the flowers. "Oh, God, I feel so good." Her coppery dress cinched up, revealing a downy bush of golden curls and nether lips pouting and dewed, perfumed with floral fragrance and Jo's own earthy essence. "But it's goofy." She giggled again, pushing blushing flowers into her face. "Calgon's taken me away and plans to fuck me senseless."

"this - yang - special." Unyx's blood rushed as Champagne. The scar on her cheek faded into nothing. The gray cobwebbing her second skin vanished into varnished lacquer-black. "good – goofy – sexy – senseless – guiltless." The blood music of nanogasm coruscated as nanomek replicated by the hundreds in her heart, then by the thousands throughout her chest, and tens of thousands across her limbs. A hundred thousand nanogasms sparkled inside her, each one producing its own tiny burning wire of coiled, pre-orgasmic tension. Unyx had never felt this horny before in either of her lives.

Unyx purred and crossed her arms over her glossy black belly in a happy, randy self-hug. Ursula and Nyx intertwined, blood music opening their minds and motions to each other. The ghost-touch of four arms snaked around Unyx's doubly sensitive tummy. Ursula's tender flesh and solid bone, Nyx's flux and power, partook in one another, their thoughts and feelings emergent within Unyx. Unyx hugged herself tighter, hugged her two other selves tighter together, and now they were three. Ursula, Nyx, and Unyx, each cherished the ghost-touch of three pairs of arms, three fierce hugs, and three reciprocated loves of three very horny girls.

"this – yang – is – dee."

Jo hummed drunkenly into a bouquet of crocus flowers, then pushed herself up by the elbows, her eyes wide. She reminded Unyx of a befuddled kitten, ears pricked in curiosity. Jo glanced down at her chest, teased open the neck of her dress with a finger, and peeked inside. "I think I'm...I feel like I'm...growing?"

Unyx's laugh was rich. "definitely – dee." The mention of Dee's name gave Unyx a wicked little thought. She held up a hand, turning it this way and that, scrutinizing it from every angle. She saw only one hand, but felt the ghost of three. She wiggled her fingers, saw only five, but whimpered as her hand was wreathed in over a dozen phantom digits. "got – to – try." Trembling, she brought her hand down. "got – to – know." After a final hesitation, Unyx cupped her breasts.

"oh – wow." Her second skin thinned to just a few molecules wide. All her nipples crinkled up. All? How many of me are there? "ah – god." She gently pinched them, her thumbs rolling over them in lazy circles. "god – oh – god." She lost herself in the influx of sensation. So many hands, so many fingers, so many burning wires of too, too sensitive flesh. "ohmygod!"

She came in one hard quicksilver throb of her pussy, an Ursula breast-orgasm. She whipped her head back and flopped onto her ass, flattening a petunia bush. The nanomek singing inside her went berserk, found her stomach, read the binding she had swallowed a few minutes before, and cranked Unyx's blood music volume up to Eleven.

"uh – oh."

* * * *

Dee broke his endless kiss, his mouth wet with tart honey, lips numb with the tang of lime. His senses swam in citrus-and-sex. His knees settled further into the mattress of flowers and woven wild growth. He gripped Eurydice's ankles, held them aloft. Eurydice, flat on her back, pushed on the flowerbed with her hands. Her pelvis rocked forward and rolled up Dee's thighs, welcoming the new angle his cock explored inside her. Her pussy was molten but her surface tension stayed firm, cooled with honeyed perspiration. Dee ran a hand up a leg as firm and clear as green glass. He mouthed the sole of her foot, drinking drops of nectar. Dee arced his other hand beneath her, cupping and caressing. Her ass felt like globes of pliant glass dripping with velvet sweat.

Eurydice mewled—Nn! Nn!—punctuating each quiet cry with a punch of a fist against the bed. "Too good. Nn! Too much." She yanked on her hair. "Mad, I'm going mad!"

Dee tipped her chin up. Silvery motes of light scintillated her deep, darkling emerald eyes. "I love you, Eurydice," he told her, his rhythm into her slow but as strong as ever. "You know the safeword." The words came easy to him. "You can do anything you want. I'll do anything you want." His prick felt primed with precum, with the I-can-do-this-all-night sensation that usually only lasted a few minutes but now truly felt it would last forever. "Anything you want. For as long as you want."

Eurydice whickered in orgasm. "All ways! Always."

A shadow fell over her. Behind Dee, Tomoe whispered, "Oh, hey." Dee felt long fingers dance over his back, urgent and eager. "Green Man." Dee sat back, pulling Eurydice along. He stayed locked inside her, a hook perfectly fit into an eye.

Tomoe knelt behind him. She towered a good head above him, the tips of her raven hair tickling his ass, her mocha-colored nipples level with the nape of his neck. She chewed her plush bottom lip. "Please, I just..." Her hands pressed flat but timorous against his back. "I want to hold you. To feel it for myself, just this one time." She tilted to look down at Eurydice, and implored. "Please."

Dee turned to Eurydice. "Anything you want," he told the breathless green girl. "I'll do anything you want because I am so going to fuck your fucking brains out."

He gathered Eurydice in his arms, propping her up into a sitting position on his lap. He dropped one hand to the flowerbed for support and slung the other across the small of her back. He pushed up with his haunches and his cock rammed straight upward into the very heart of her. "Now: What. Is. My. Fucking. Name!"

Tomoe fell against his back. Eurydice, cumming and yowling, collapsed on top of him. Tomoe and Eurydice shrieked together, "Green Man!"

* * * *

Jo rolled onto her back, panting. High in a cloudless sky, the early-afternoon sun reflected off the flowers and Jo's borrowed coppery dress, casting everything in the light of an overexposed film. The breezy air above the flowerbed was sultry and so laden with floral perfume Jo felt awash in the breath of Mother Nature herself. If Mother Nature was horn-dogging, that is. The sumptuous warmth stewed the air and lapped at her skin like some huge, feather-light tongue. It felt her up and ate her out.

     ["...Listen, Jo: Dee's focused his kuzbu..."]

A bass voice thundered—"What. Is. My. Fucking. Name!"—followed by twin cries—"Green Man!"—and Jo suddenly knew that the invisible, energetic presence urging her toward another orgasm was, somehow, male. Not Mother Nature, she thought, her eyes sliding shut, her lips parting, drinking in air like hot mulled wine. The Green Man. She hitched her dress up above her hips, spread her legs, and opened herself to the Sun.

     ["...but when we step into the crop circle, you'll feel it full-bore..."]

Jo saturated. She lost herself in the Sun's dazzling white-blue light, the overpowering aroma of blooming growth, and the firm pressure of satin petals on every side and inch of her skin. Flowers pressed whispery soft into her ears, stroked her hair, nestled in the hollow of her neck, buoyed up her arms, nudged her back and ribs. Her parted legs were swallowed up in thousands of delicate, cool petals. How are they all moving toward me, into me? Her eyes flickered open as the revelation struck her. The flowers aren't moving against my skin. My skin is moving against the flowers. I really am growing!

     ["... It's going to be a bit..."]

The dizzy torridity of the air pervaded her pussy, and Jo's last semi-coherent thought before the strongest orgasm of her life lashed through her was, Oh shit oh fuck oh God I was right Calgon's taken me away and is fucking me sensele—


Her orgasm plateau'd and overflowed her pulsing sex, wracking her body in spasms of release and relief. Jo no longer thought, only felt. No longer observed, only experienced. Flower stems piled up between her fingers as her arms grew, pulped under her feet as her legs lengthened, her heels furrowing little troughs in the matted grass below. As her orgasm rushed-and-gushed, her muscles burned-and-rebuilt, over and over, as if a few years of volleyball workouts flew by in a few seconds.

As Jo came down from the timeless cumming, a terrible tenderness built up in her breasts. The coppery dress that felt so flowing and silky moments before had become confining and as scratchy as the shaggiest, wool knit sweater. Jo shot her hands under her dress, shielding her raw nipples against the ragged material with her palms.

Skin met skin. The cooling sweat in her palms soothed her smarting flesh even as it spread beneath her fingers, pushing against her hand in a bizarre, reverse game of cop-a-feel. My tits are trying to get to second base with my hands. The very idea filled her with giggles, but they died in her throat as the gradual pressure against her hands went on and on for a long, worrying while before subsiding.

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