tagNonHumanLamprey Lust: Special BE Edition

Lamprey Lust: Special BE Edition


Lamprey Lust:

Special BE Edition

(Based on Surrender in the Swamp [pic]

By Little White Mouse)

By The Preve

June 8, 1959: Sara Jean Cosmetics, a rival to Mary Kay, initiates Project Galatea, an ambitious ahead-of-its-time attempt to revolutionize body modification through cosmetics. Too far ahead, it is a complete failure, resulting in the company's bankruptcy and takeover by a rival conglomerate. Among the many headaches bequeathed to the conglomerate were several hundred gallons of waste chemicals from the Galatea Project. Obviously, a cheap and efficient way had to be found for disposal. It took a few decades.

September 9, 1995: A train carrying several species of aquatic animals derails, spilling some of its contents into a local river. The locals complained about invasive species, some of the creatures turned out to be hardier than most.

March 4, 1999: Robert "Bo" Boggs, a pig-eyed, chain-smoking, fifty something trucker, dumps a container full of waste chemicals into a local swamp outside the small town of Peach Tree, Georgia. The discreet and illegal dumping will earn Bo big bucks. Bo will die of lung cancer, emphysema, and high blood pressure five years later, a bad end to a bad man.

June 26, 2012: Cynthia Macpherson goes for a swim.


"Motherfucking, piece of shit, asshole, prick!" Cynthia Macpherson described her recently exed boyfriend. Her profane assessment of his character was the result of an unfortunate discovery: the boyfriend. . .in bed. . .with two other people. One of them, a buxom blonde, was servicing the boyfriend's cock. The other, the mayor's son, was having his cock serviced by the boyfriend.

Now, Cynthia was not like most women one expects to find in small southern towns. Sure it was the Bible Belt, but Cynthia was more open-minded than most. It was the 21st century after all; nothing wrong with gay or bi (she knew a few and saw how much the closet cost them). No, what really pissed her off was (a) the ex never told her, (b) the mayor's son?! He's 18, for Chrissakes! and (c) the buxom blonde: Judy Cutler, her mortal enemy from junior high, high school, and beyond. Him?! With her?!!

Cynthia had come to the boyfriend's house to surprise him with a quick morning fuck. She opened the bedroom door and there they were. She gaped at them, two shocked expressions and one smirk stared back. Cynthia slammed the door and stormed. Her newly ex-boyfriend followed, clad in a blanket, clumsily trying to explain about open relationships, moments of weakness, denials of gayness, and various other fantasies. She punched him in the face.

She spent the rest of the morning gunning the Ford along the back roads. She stopped the truck, got out, took a cigarette, and began to smoke. "That son of a bitch," she thought. Cynthia looked around, the place was familiar, a beautiful spot on the edge of the swamp; calm blue-green water, reeds and cattails. "I used to swim here," she remembered. It was a good place to think, very private, no dangerous animals, just a few frogs and flamingos. Cynthia took a look at the calm cool water and thought, "Why not?" She was hot, sweaty, and pissed. It was approaching noon on a hot, humid day. "May as well cool off," she said. "There's no one around."

Cynthia undid her hair and let its flaming red curls cascade to her shoulders. She took off her clothes and put them in the truck. Cynthia waded into the swamp. Before diving into the deep, she paused to admire her body.

She was a red head through and through, from her short cut red muff to the flaming red tresses. Her body was slim and athletic with softball sized breasts and long limbs. A smattering of freckles dotted her arms and shoulders. Her eyes reflected the same cool blue-green as the water. Her face sported a long, broad nose and a wide, full mouth. She turned some heads in town. Features that looked terrible on others were just right on her. "He threw this away for that bitch," she thought.

Cynthia swam for half an hour. At some point something brushed against her leg. "Log," she thought but decided to soak in the shallows while planning her next move. She lay back, drifting, planning revenge on Judy, unaware of the eyes watching her body.

The observer wasn't human. Cynthia's movements caught its attention. It swam towards the reclining redhead with one goal.

Cynthia's revenge fantasies were ended abruptly by a splash and a splat. A mysterious something reared out onto her body. "What...?!" Cynthia gasped as she fell back into the water. She sat back up, sputtering, aware of a wet, slimy weight upon her body. One look widened her eyes in shock, "What the fuck?!!"

A long eel-like creature was attached to her body. "Goddamn! That's a big lamprey! Where'd it come from and what's it doing in the swamp?" she thought. It was the biggest she'd ever seen. Its mouth was fastened solidly on her right boob.

Lampreys were parasitic creatures. Usually they targeted fish but for some reason this creature was interested in Cynthia. "Ewww! Ick! Get off me!" Cynthia cried, tugging frantically at the eel's body. The lamprey's skin was wet and slimy, its mouth stuck to her like glue. "Damn! It won't budge," Cynthia said, after a moment's futile tugging. "Well, guess it's the hospital or vet, see if they can do something. God! This is embarrassing. It'll get around and Judy will have something to laugh about."

Unfortunately, not only was the lamprey heavier than it looked but each time she tried to stand, the creature wriggled violently, pulling painfully at her breast, forcing Cynthia down. She got the message: the creature didn't want her to leave. "Damn!" she thought. "What am I going to do now? I can't stay like this forever."

Cynthia examined the lamprey. Its mouth covered her entire breast. "I better figure out something before this thing sucks me dry, damn! How the heck'd it get this big?!"

She became aware of a tickling around her tit. "Huh?! What's this thing doing?" The lamprey was flicking its tongue around her aureola, sliding its soft rasp across her nipple. "What the...! Is this thing licking me?!" The lamprey did more than lick. Its mouth began to open and close, squeezing and pumping her breast. "Fuck! My God! A fucking lamprey's giving me boob action!"

The creature's teeth were soft and gentle. The play of its tongue was shockingly arousing. Cynthia began to moan softly, as her melon received the attention formerly reserved for her ex. The erotic eel wriggled over her torso. Its body slithered across her bush and ground against her sex, sliding its sliminess across Cynthia's swollen clit. "Oh God! I'm wet! A fucking eel is making me cum!!"

Cynthia tilted her head back and began to howl. She wriggled against the lamprey. Her pussy pumped juice into the swamp. Unnoticed another form rippled towards her reclining body. Cynthia splashed and sputtered as she was knocked back. When she recovered, another lamprey had attached itself to her left breast. "Oh no! Another one!" she gasped.

The creature began to give her boob the same attention as the other. Two wriggling slimy bodies wound about her legs, spreading them and exposing her flower to the swamp. The flow of water across Cynthia's open vulva blasted her to new heights of arousal. She tilted her head back and resumed her moans and ululations; more Cynthia juice flowed into the water. Unbeknownst to the redhead, more slimy bodies swam towards the supine woman, attracted by her scent.

A slitherer made a beeline straight towards Cynthia's great wide open. The redhead paused her swamp aria to gasp a startled "Oh no!", as a wet slimer planted its puss on her pussy. The lamprey slithered its tongue into her wet rose. It licked her swollen bud, sending electric orgasms through Cynthia's body. Her velvet tunnel flooded with cum, lapped up by the lamprey. Cynthia's moans passed arias, progressing to full blown opera. The swamp rang with her love songs. "Ooohh!! Mmmm!! Nnnng!!...Unnng!!...Tongued!!... Unnng!!...By fucking....eels!!! Oh God!! I'm cumming!! Oh!! Fuck me!! Come on!! Lick it!! Fuck me!!" she screamed.

She might have screamed herself hoarse had not another lamprey reared out of the water to plant its mouth on her lips. The redhead's howls abruptly changed to a shocked "Mmmm?!!" An overpowering fish scent flooded her mouth. Cynthia's throat gagged and her stomach roiled. The creature's tongue slithered down her throat. Cynthia's tongue was forced into a wrestling match as it twined and swirled around the lamprey's lapper, "Omigod! I'm making out with a fish!!" And such a make out! Her ex had never kissed this deep nor half as well. She had no time to reflect on the surreality. Her thoughts were obliterated by the next round of orgasms. Her mental obliteration, therefore, left the redhead unaware of the belated benefits of Sara Jean Cosmetics' Project Galatea.

If the chemists at Sara Jean had been a little more patient, and the accountants more wise, they would, today, be multibillionaires with articles in Wikipedia, rather than retired high school chemistry teachers scattered across the continent. All that the chemicals needed were a few years fermentation and maybe a vector, or vectors. A few decades stewing in an overlooked warehouse, plus another in a little known swamp, accomplished the chemists' goals in ways they failed to imagine.

Cynthia's body underwent changes as a side effect of her aquatic intimacies. The mutated lampreys' teeth gently broke the redhead's skin; certain chemicals and hormones insinuated themselves into the woman's bloodstream. The result was a big increase in breast size. . .and a bigger increase in milk production. The lampreys attached to Cynthia's mammaries reaped the immediate benefits.

Cynthia's B-cups ballooned around the lamprey's mouths. Cynthia's eyes were rolled back. As such, she did not see her remarkable expansion. An observer, hiking the area, would have come across a scene reminiscent of an old Weird Tales pulp magazine cover. A supine redhead, floating, head tilted back, mouth open, moaning arias while slimy eels, mouths pumping, arced increasingly over two rising mounds of flesh, a third wriggling sinuously between her wide spread legs. It was as if the creatures inflated, rather than drew from, the redhead's blossoming boobs. Cynthia, a thirty-four chester, moaned as increasing volumes of flesh spread over her freckled chest. The freckles, in which the redhead took great pride, grew less dense, stretched out by her elasticizing skin. B, C, D, and finally double D fell by the wayside as Cynthia grew to match her buxom blonde rival in mammary girth.

Sara Jean Cosmetics not only plumped Cynthia's uppers but her nethers as well. The thin skin covering Cynthia's twat proved particularly vulnerable to lamprey penetration. Project Galatea infiltrated her body through her love canal, courtesy of the lamprey's tongue and teeth. Clit and vulva plumped into hair-trigger pillows. Her deep pink pussy blossomed into a blood red rose haloed by a dark red bush.

Finally (as the only remaining hole it was only logical), another lamprey attached to her bunghole, sending its slimy tongue into territory previously owned (somewhat unskillfully) by Cynthia's ex. Cynthia's green eyes flashed as the slithering presence wound its way through her rectum. The electric shock of the raspy tongue, sliding against the thin walls of her anus, slammed into the shock waves coming from her exploding clit. She arched her body, churning the water into cum and cream flavored foam, inhaling and sucking lamprey spit. Her ex never gave her such a fuck.

The orgasms completed the purpose towards which the Sara Jean chemists had labored to no initial effect. The lamprey-induced chemicals flooded Cynthia's glutes. Her already hot ass became hotter. Her swelling moons nearly swallowed her slimy benefactor. It was forced to withdraw before Cynthia's two globes crushed it within her increasingly pronounced crack. And last, Cynthia's midsection, already good and toned, gained a few more inches as a result of the Sara Jean-enhanced lamprey spit in her belly. A very slender twenty-two inch waistline went to a more voluptuous twenty-six.

Cynthia, too engrossed in her orgasms, pumping out cum and milk, smooching and humping her lamprey lovers, failed to notice the dozens of ripples converging on the wriggling mass. The redhead's splashes, her cummings, and the lampreys' ministrations, created scents and sounds which drew the swamp's denizens like bees to a flower.

Cynthia's eyes rolled back in ecstasy from the pleasures of eel love. The lamprey at her twat had its fill of cum juice and withdrew. Another immediately replaced it, plumbing its tongue where the other previously plunged. Shortly thereafter, the lamprey on Cynthia's right mound disengaged. A fountain of cream squirted from the redhead's overcharged mammary, before her nipple was covered by another lamprey lip. The lamprey at Cynthia's mouth removed itself. She had a moment's breath before sucking face with another fish. Once the pattern was set, it became a free for all.

Lampreys attached and detached from Cynthia's supine body in a frenzied orgy. The parasitic eels wrapped and slithered around the reclining redhead, sucking spit, milk, and cum from her moist interior. "Mmmm!! Nnnnn!! Ohhhh!!" Cynthia sang as the lampreys fucked and sucked her into orgiastic oblivion. A white, hot nova of an orgasm faded into darkness. The last sounds she heard were the slurps, sucks, and splashes of the lampreys.

Cynthia opened her eyes. She was floating on her back near the shore. She stood up, hip deep, wobbling on her feet. "Wow!" she thought, "That was amazing!" The redhead felt lightheaded and drained. "Of course I'm drained! Those things sucked the living daylights out of me."

She examined her body, "Gasp?!" Her breasts were big, not big as in maybe a slight swelling here and there, but BIG! As in, she won the state lottery and got the best boob job from cosmetic surgery's equivalent of Michelangelo. "What-the-fuck-happened-to-me?!" Her formerly B-cupped softballs were now somewhere in the E range. Her tits, formerly tiny pinpricks, were now pencil erasers. Her aureolae had grown from pennies to tea saucers. She squeezed one, a squirt of milk splashed into the water. A squirt of cum splashed from her pussy. "Oh God!" she gasped, swaying. Not only were they larger, but far more sensitive. "I have to be careful," she thought. "God! What did those things do? I feel thick....and horny." There was little trace of her encounter, other than faint tooth marks around her boobs and pussy. "I better get out of here before they come back," she thought. "I can't survive another session."

It was late afternoon. Cynthia waded to shore and stood by the Ford, letting the air dry her skin. She looked at her face in the side mirror. "Holy fuck! My lips!" She had good lips before, but now they looked collagened to bee-stung fuckability. "I can't tell anyone about this," she decided. "First, no one would believe me and second...well it's just too damn weird." However, when she tried to dress, her clothes no longer fit. "Oh God! My ass, my hips, everything's bigger! How do I explain this?"

She stood and thought for a few minutes. "Hmmm, it might work. Most of the men in town aren't very bright. They might swallow it. Nobody knows I'm not allergic to bee stings. It might work. Now the clothes, I can't drive into town naked...wait a moment!" She went to the back of the truck. "Where are they? There!" Her ex's coveralls, "They'll fit." She wore her T-shirt, barely fitting, under the coveralls to prevent chafing. She didn't want any accidents from responses to her new-found sensitivity. Cynthia drove into town and went to the diner, "God! I'm starving!"

The diners gaped. "Holy shit!" one of them gasped. "Cynthia?!"

"Hi Jed," she answered, putting on an embarrassed smile. Actually she wasn't embarrassed. She liked this new body but she had to sell her story. Shirley, the waitress and her best friend, walked up to her. "Geez girl, what happened?!"

"Bee sting. I'm okay, just a bit swollen."

"Damn! You gotta see a doctor. That looks more than just swelling."

"Can't, no insurance, remember? Look, I feel okay. I'm just hungry, that's all."

Cynthia ordered three bacon cheeseburgers with fries and two milkshakes and then went home, straight to bed.

Cynthia never spoke to her ex again. She could forgive the kinky sex, "I can't cast stones in that direction," but Judy was unforgivable. The bachelors were happy to see Cynthia on the market again. The swelling didn't go away; she now sported the hottest body in the county, but the joy quickly changed to perplexity. Cynthia didn't seem interested for some reason. "Maybe she's gone lesbo," some sniffed; not quite the truth but her tastes had shifted somewhat.

Early August 2012: Cynthia stood on the edge of the swamp. She was so horny her panties were soaked. "I better get to it before I mess my pants," she thought. Cynthia stripped and walked into the water. She floated with her legs spread and pussy wide, until she saw the familiar ripples. Cynthia tilted her head back, smiled, and closed her eyes, "God, this has been a great summer." The first of her lovers swam forward.

The End

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