Organism X Ch. 13

No time to look around. Move!

Melissa stepped forward and threw open the door. That's when it happened.

Waiting for her on the other side of the door was a shadowy figure. All Melissa could make out was the shape -- a lovely, curvy, feminine shape. The figure opened her eyes. Two emeralds burned in the darkness.

Melissa's blood ran cold. She stumbled backwards, tripped on a carelessly strewn book, and fell on her ass. In the next moment, the dark figure stepped into the room.

"Who are you? How did you find me?" Melissa noticed that her voice seemed far away, as if someone else were speaking it from down the hall.

I've been with you for a while.

"That doesn't answer my question!"

The figure chuckled and lowered herself to all fours. Her large, pendulous breasts dangled from her chest. Melissa traced the outline of those shadowy globes, feeling the itchy heat return to her body.

You know who I am. You just don't like the answer to your question.

Why was the voice so familiar? Melissa knew that voice and knew it well. Had one of the girls been turned? No, it couldn't be. Besides, the voice did not line up with any of them. Still, Melissa was certain she knew it.

The shadow figure advanced like a hungry leopard, her sinewy body rippling with grace and strength. Soon enough, she was on top of Melissa, her features still obscured.

You don't want to leave. You want this. You want me.

"Shut up! You're lying. I don't want to be like you. I don't want to hurt my friends. I won't do it!"

But you will. Your whole body yearns for their corruption. Every day, you sit in that lab and stare at Professor Pierce's samples, wondering what would happen if one of the jars fell off the counter. You stare at your friends and wonder what they would look like with worms inside of them. These things make your pussy wet!

Whoever this was, she had been given an intimate knowledge of Melissa's inner thoughts and feelings, probably from Emily. Why hadn't the redheaded sister come for Melissa herself? Melissa felt a pang of something. Was it disappointment? She had spent so many hours with Emily Bloom in her head, preparing for the moment when it all came to a head. Now that moment was here and Emily was nowhere to be found. Melissa suddenly found herself yearning for the redhead, not this stranger.

I'm not a stranger, Melissa. In fact, I'm your closest confidant.

That voice was so familiar! Who was it?

A kiss scattered Melissa's thoughts. The strangers lips were two soft pillows gently massaging Melissa's mouth. Her breath smelled like flowers and her spit tasted like syrup. Her body was hot -- really hot, and perfectly shaped. Her breasts, large, yet perky, felt like two overfilled water balloons in Melissa's hands. She cupped them and hefted them, squeezed and jiggled them. She couldn't help herself. Now that she could feel the heat of the other's body, her resolve was crumbling dust.

That's it, you little pervert. Drink my body in. Pretty soon, this will all be yours.

Melissa was practically sobbing as she spoke. She could not believe how pathetic she was. She had fallen with hardly any resistance at all.

"How are you here? I didn't give Emily everything. I didn't want to betray my friends. How did you find me?"

I'm here because you let me in. Every time you gazed longingly at one of your friends or daydreamed about a worm slithering into your pussy, you opened the door a little more.

Melissa suddenly recognized the voice. The figure pulled back just enough for Melissa to get a good look.

Staring back at Melissa was a reflection of herself. Not the girl she saw in the mirror, but the one Emily had shown her. The girl's black hair was wild and unkempt, tumbling down her toned caramel back. Her breasts gave Emily Bloom's a run for their money, taking up her entire chest. The perky nipples pointed up at the stars like two cannons. Her body was toned and slightly muscular, but still soft enough to squeeze. However, it was the face that really got Melissa. Her doppelganger had a sharp face dripping with arrogance and sex appeal.

Like what you see?

Melissa gazed into her doppelganger's burning green eyes and felt the last traces of resistance drain out of her. She was so beautiful. Perfect.

Stop fighting me, Mel. If we join up, things will be so much better for both of us.

Melissa gasped in pain as something jammed itself into her pussy. She didn't need to look to know what it was.

The doppelganger kissed Melissa again. The warmth of the sister's body flowed into Melissa. Where their lips touched, they joined together. Legs melted into legs. Breasts melted into breasts. So on and so forth. Melissa could feel the twin's essence inside of her. So much power. So hot.

Melissa arched her back, thrusting a pair of gravity-defying breasts into the air. The cool air kissed a body built for sex and seduction. For one fleeting moment, Melissa knew exactly what it would feel like to become a sister. That single taste was enough to hook her forever.

Melissa Takizawa sat up in bed. The room was dark, but she could make out the shapes of her companions. Bethany had finally gone to sleep and was passed out in a huddled mass under the covers. She looked peaceful, a nice change of pace from her earlier sorrow.

Moving carefully, Melissa got out of bed, slipped past Penny on the floor, and stood over Bethany at her bedside. Melissa's roommate wasn't conventionally pretty, but she had a boyish charm that was hard to resist.

Melissa gazed down at Bethany Eastwood lovingly and, on a whim, bent down and kissed her lightly on the lips. Just enough to get a taste.

"You're going to make a lovely sister, Bethany."

6

Ellie was kind enough to provide the new base of operations, offering up her dorm room -- and her roommate. Warren Hall was on the other side of campus from Carter, providing much needed space from Leah and Lindsay as well as a bevy of new potential hosts and victims.

They moved in a pack, drawing eyes everywhere they went. Jealous girls caught their boyfriends staring. Bicurious freshmen blushed and grew distracted. This was how it was supposed to be. They were a higher form of life and it was high time that the world recognized it.

They hit Warren Hall as if it were Normandy beach. The plan was simple, quick, and devastating. Ellie's hallway was all girls, but the opposite hall was all boys. That was where they would hit first.

They reached the side entrance to the dormitory and Megan gave them their instructions like a drill sergeant.

"Ellie, Susie, and Shelby, follow me. Felicia, take out the RA and any other guy unlucky enough to come across you. Emily, Ellie's room is 223. Her roommate's name is Amber. Apparently, she's bitchy and flat. Have fun!"

Emily beamed.

"You're insane. I can't believe I'm going along with this."

"I'm just glad you're finally seeing some sense."

"Don't get too full of yourself," Emily took off with a skip in her step.

Megan opened the door and ushered her followers in. The rest of the night followed in a blur of debauchery. They went from door to door, knocking and then busting into rooms before the guys had a chance to react. From there, hormones took control.

For her part, Megan had at least two guys, though her memories of the night were hazy. There were bits and pieces she remembered clearly. There was an image of Ellie riding some dork with a surprisingly large cock. The thing practically made Ellie's belly bulge with every thrust. At another moment, Shelby took two guys at once, letting herself get spitroasted. The one at her pussy collapsed as the other splattered her purple hair in cum. A moment later, she climbed on top of the one remaining guy and drained him too. Still, most of the night passed by quickly and with little conscious thought. Megan hunted and drained, hunted and drained. She could feel something wicked growing in her belly -- another monster like the one that turned Felicia into She-Hulk.

They finally wound down around one in the morning, emerging from the rooms of their victims with looks of deep satisfaction. They moved as a pack back towards Ellie's hallway.

When Megan opened the door to Ellie's dorm room, she was greeted with a topless Emily perched on the right-hand bed. Beneath the redhead, Megan saw a quivering figure with a mess of black hair.

"You were right. She was bitchy and flat," Emily said. "Was."

The girls made themselves at home in the room. Felicia, who had broken off from the rest of the group, returned an hour later with a haunted look in her eyes. She lumbered into the room, groaned loudly, and yanked down her pants. Out came her ovipositor, dribbling slime all over the floor.

No one dared interfere with what came next. Felicia was stronger than all of them combined and the look in her eyes screamed danger.

A bulge ran down the length of the ovipositor and a moment later, a glowing, pulsating green mass the size of a golf ball emerged from the tip. It plunked down on the floor with a wet schlup. It was followed by another and another. Soon, a healthy pile had formed.

Megan picked up one of the masses, feeling it pulse as if it had a heartbeat.

"Now we can start planning for the main event."

7

The house party was winding down and Brandon's buzz was turning into a headache. Even with the thinning crowd, the townhouse was stifling and claustrophobic. He stepped out on the porch to catch his breath, letting the cool autumn air roll over him.

Brandon felt empty. There had been no shortage of booze and girls, but none of it seemed to have any substance. Oddly enough, he found himself thinking back to English class earlier in the evening. Part of him wished his conversation with Professor Maroney hadn't been cut short. The English professor was always a joy to talk to. She was so witty and knowledgeable. None of his classmates could hold a conversation like Maroney could.

If only she were twenty years younger, Brandon thought, a wry grin spreading on his face.

He wondered what the professor looked like when she was younger. She was probably cute, in a bookish, nerdy sort of way.

Brandon had become so lost in thought that he failed to notice that he was no longer alone on the porch. He turned and saw a girl standing next to him.

The girl had long, straight auburn hair that cascaded down her back and big, goofy glasses that seemed to clash with the beauty of her face. The closer Brandon looked, the prettier the girl seemed. Was this chick a model or something?

The girl turned to look at him and smiled, giving Brandon the strangest sense of deja vu.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" Brandon asked.

It wasn't the greatest pickup line in history, but the girl didn't seem to mind.

"Probably," she answered.

Brandon had heard that voice before somewhere, but he couldn't place it.

"I'm Brandon."

"Talia," the girl stepped closer.

She was dressed in a sweater that didn't quite fit her. The garment showed off the girl's creamy, toned midriff and bulged at the chest, hinting at, but not fully revealing a considerable bosom. Brandon drank in her features, feeling cock stir in his pants as he did so.

"So, uh, what brings you here, Talia?"

To Brandon's surprise, rather than answer him, Talia stepped up and kissed him on the lips. He swore it was the best damn kiss he had ever received.

"I'm here to check on my best student."

"Whu-what?"

"You mean you don't recognize me? What do I need to do, give you a lecture on Thomas Hardy?"

Talia cupped Brandon's crotch as she said this, making him rock hard. It was then that Brandon noticed a few things. He recognized the pattern of the sweater, having seen it earlier in the night during his English class. He also recognized the glasses.

All of Talia's features lined up with those of Professor Maroney, but it just didn't make sense. The professor was a nice lady, but she was older. This girl was young, and gorgeous too. She could be a model if she wanted to.

She kissed him again. God her lips were so soft. He felt the heat of her body, the swell of her chest pressed against him. This couldn't be Professor Maroney. This girl was his age, maybe even younger and her body was perfect. Maroney was in her mid-forties and showed it.

Brandon sank into the kiss and wrapped his arms around the girl, exploring the supple musculature of her back and the taught swells of her butt. It couldn't be the professor, right?

As things got heavier, a more important question dawned on Brandon. Did he want it to be the professor? It was true that Maroney was easier to talk to and vastly more interesting than most girls in his own grade. She was older, but age brought wisdom and grace. Brandon liked the professor a lot. He often stayed late after class, chatting and chatting with her.

He wanted this girl to be Professor Maroney, and that desire drove him over the edge.

Brandon broke the kiss and stammered, "my place."

Talia nodded and began to follow him across campus. As they walked, they chatted, and as they chatted it became painfully clear that this was Professor Maroney. She knew everything about her classes. Her understanding of English Literature was expansive. She even referenced things that came up in their after-class talks -- talks that only Professor Maroney was privy to.

The surer Brandon was that this girl was Professor Maroney, the more desperately he wanted her. Suddenly, he saw their after-class talks and hallway catch-up sessions in a different light. In his mind's eye, he saw the professor's cheeks redden when he entered the room. He saw her eyes dart to the ground whenever he turned to glance at her. He had noticed all these things and tried not to notice them, because he knew what they represented. Courtship. He had seen the potential, but not allowed it to blossom. Still, feelings lingered. Now they were erupting to the surface like pent up magma under a volcano.

They reached Brandon's room and it took all his self-control to stop himself from ripping Talia's clothes off. There was something he had to do first.

"I need to know whether or not you're the professor."

Talia bit her lip and looked down at the ground. The blush in her cheeks was a violet purplish-red. She looked so young and ravishingly beautiful.

"Will that change anything?"

"I need to know," he repeated.

Talia reached into her bag and pulled out a driver's license. The license read "Talia J Maroney". Brandon squared the image of a willowy, aging English Professor with the bookish aphrodite in front of him. There was a difference of decades between the two women, but the resemblance was uncanny. Brandon's last doubts drained away.

"Please give me a chance," Professor Maroney begged. "I know this is probably very strange and somewhat off putting. I can leave, but I'm--"

Brandon didn't give her a chance to finish. He picked her up and threw her on his bed. He climbed on top of her like a silverback gorilla claiming a mate and immediately began to tear her clothes off. He needed to get that goofy sweater off. He needed to know how big those puppies really were under there. He wasn't disappointed.

Talia Maroney's breasts had somehow grown three or four cup sizes in the time since Brandon last saw her. Whereas before the professor's small breasts sagged and hardly filled her bras, these new and improved tits bounced and jiggled with an exquisite fullness. Brandon cupped those perfect breasts, eliciting a frenzied cry.

"Careful. They are very sensitive."

"They're beautiful."

Talia blushed. "They have gotten much bigger. I'm not used to it yet."

Brandon smiled and nibbled his lover's ear lobe.

"Don't worry, I'll be gentle."

Brandon ran his tongue up and down the slopes of Talia's breasts, relishing the nascent fullness. There was something so hypnotic about those tremulous orbs. He couldn't stop looking and feeling them if his life depended on it.

Things moved quickly. Brandon simply could not help himself and Talia seemed more than happy to let him go crazy.

Off came Talia's jeans, Brandon's shirt, Brandon's shorts, etc., etc. Soon enough, the lovers were naked in the bed with only the air to separate their bodies.

"Go ahead, don't hold back. I need this as much as you do," Talia said.

Brandon cupped his lover's cheek and kissed her on the lips.

"I'm in love with you."

Talia's big blue eyes welled with tears.

"I love you," she whispered.

Brandon pressed the head of his cock against Talia's pussy. It was so wet, so warm, so wonderfully inviting. He sank into her, inch-by-inch, and entered pure bliss. They were now one flesh. After months of awkward, half-realized flirting and a strange, Twilight Zone-like twist, their love could truly be expressed.

With every thrust, Brandon fell deeper into reverie. This beautiful, brilliant goddess was his. She was his mate, his bride, his lover, and his queen. With every ferocious thrust of his hips, Brandon watched Talia's buxom tits jiggle and sway. It was an obscenely gorgeous display of femininity.

Talia scratched at Brandon's back. She wrapped her long, toned legs around his hips and thrust against him with the dexterity of a trained acrobat. By now, her eyes were filled with the trademark green fire of the sisterhood, but Brandon didn't notice. He was lost in his lust, practically sobbing with joy as he bred with his goddess.

Of course, all good things must come to an end. Brandon howled and shot his essence deep inside of Talia. His muscles relaxed and his body slumped against hers. His breathing grew labored, but neither he nor Talia noticed this.

No, it couldn't end here. Talia's entire body radiated with uncontrollable desire. She needed more.

With strength she didn't know she had, Talia spun her lover around and mounted him. Slowly but surely, Brandon's cock began to reinflate.

"I don't think I can go on," Brandon moaned, his voice slurring as if he were still drunk.

"Come on baby, please. I need you. I need more!"

And Talia took more. She rode him relentlessly, her body performing maneuvers she would have thought impossible. This new state of being, this second chance at youth, made her feel so powerful and in control. With that power, she had taken the man of her dreams. Brandon, her student, her lover, her God; Talia felt his essence seeping into her. He felt like an extension of her own body, as intimate and close as a limb.

"You make me feel like a woman! You make me feel hot! Give me more! I want all of you!"

Over and over again, Talia ravished her lover. She lost track of how many times he squirted inside of her. Time became strange. Hours passed like seconds in a carnival ride of ecstasy and lust. Talia at first did not notice when she had finished. She came to on her back, breathing heavily. She gaped at the mountainous slopes of her breasts in awe. Having lived her life as part of the itty-bitty-titty brigade, this change was particularly startling. She wasn't used to their weight and heft. Her boobs jiggled and quivered with every little movement, which was especially disconcerting. Talia was just thankful Brandon liked them.

Talia suddenly remembered her student-turned lover and sat up quickly, using her arm to contain the impressive swells of her bosom.

"Hey babe," Talia said. That was what lovers called each other, right? It had been so long since she had been with someone. "How are you holding up?"

Talia glanced at Brandon and went pale. The boy was a motionless lump on the bed. His skin had a deathly pallor and he didn't seem to be breathing. Talia nudged him and got no response.

"Brandon, wake up!"