tagSci-Fi & FantasyThree Hundred Million and One

Three Hundred Million and One


A Tale of the Nymphocalypse

She was everything he had always craved in a woman. Perfect skin, ice-blue eyes, and primly bound blond hair in a neat bun. Yet the young civilian liaison from his biggest Defense Contractor also exuded an air of discipline that he could respect even if she wasn't it uniform.

"And as you can see General, the new Databases have the potential to increase Operational Tempo by a minimum of seventy percent even with the most conservative projections." She paused for a moment, and seemed to stretch, was she willingly thrusting her chest at him? The front of her deep indigo business dress wasn't puffing out was it? Almost as if her breasts were somehow swelling? No. Of course not. But...what was that growling sound? He thought he heard some kind of primal, animal purring...must be his imagination. He adjusted his pants with a barely stifled grunt, surprised at the sudden erection.

"The secondary reports you have in your possession also verify the heuristic capabilities of the new microchips that....are you feeling all right General?" Her porcelain smooth face seemed genuinely concerned as the aging four-star squirmed in his seat. That low, almost inaudible growl again...

"N-no...C-continue." But something was clearly upsetting him. His weathered and stern features were reddening, like a steam kettle about to erupt.

"Certainly General, but you'll find that the cost projections are only forty percent that of our competitors - " The older man grunted and squirmed, quivering with some incredible tension that he could barely suppress and could no longer conceal.

"What's wrong sir?" cooed the Defense Contractor as she slid a leg up onto his desk, perching there in such a way as to provide a clear view deep into her cleavage.

"I...can't....I haven't...." He was straining, clenching, there was a need exploding within him that he dare not express, yet could no longer control. A sharkish gleam came to the face of the smooth blond woman.

"Is your cock hard for me, General? Is your body aching for the touch of mine?" Her tone was knowing, and mischievous.

"wh – no....I couldn't...inappro- priate." He was shuddering with need. "M-married...could never....don't want that..."

"I understand General, and I respect you." Her voice softened. "You might find this hard to believe, but I'm a soldier too. Except that I don't fight with guns, or bombs. I fight with these..."

The buttons of her suit slipped open as though her clothes had a will of their own, and curvaceous double-D's practically leapt forward. A nude realm of feminine swells and ripeness was revealed before him, with neither bra nor underwear beneath her clothing.

"How do you like my missiles, Sir?" she laughed as she squeezed her naked bosom together. His head was raised, his eyes wide as if in dread...or joy...or both. "It's only fair that your cock is so hard General." she explained. She took his wrist in her hand, and thrust it between her sleek, statuesque legs. "Feel how wet you've made me. Feel my desire trickling between your fingers, and between my thighs." His jaw twitched in forbidden excitement. She slid into his lap, and her throbbing breasts seemed to envelope his quivering face. She stroked his balding head, encouraging him to nuzzle her naked flesh and suck upon her hardening, dark nipples. Already her body seemed to gleam, to glisten in the light.

"*MMPH* s-so wet...so soft...*SLURP*" It was too much; from the first time his tongue touched her sensuous flesh, the General's will had snapped. "Your scent... so sweet....like cinnamon." The pair began thrashing together, the older man's pants a distant memory as the naked slut rode his aching member there in his chair. A moan of primal gratification slipped from her perfect lips, and as he reveled in the soft delight of her boobs, she raised her face towards the ceiling, her expression exultant, as her eyes began to radiate an unearthly pink glow.


A stocky black man with salt-and-pepper hair sat in a spacious Pentagon office as his hands firmly gripped a red telephone before him. His face was tense, yet he radiated fear and uncertainty. There was a mysterious sucking, smacking sound from under his desk. Punctuated by feminine giggling. The occasional strand of long, auburn-red hair could be seen in his lap. With a throaty grunt, he picked up the red phone.

"CANCEL....DEPLOYMENT.... I REPEAT, CANCEL....DEPLOYMENT!!!" There was a moment of silence, before the standard affirmative was heard. Hanging up the phone, he slip back into his chair, face calming, $eyes closing in release...acceptance. But there was a throaty shout as he began his climax. Eagerly, gratefully he surrendered to the red-haired vixen under his desk. His beefy meat pumped, and he released everything... his sperm...his lust... his loyalty... all spurted into the lips of the sultry she-demon that moaned and giggled with triumph.


"I did it." The hook-nosed Senator slobbered into his cell phone. "Y-you can come back now....I pushed it through committee...opposition couldn't stop it....it's done... The Emergency Disarmament Bill has been ratified...you can come back to me." His voice began to quiver.

"I know Senator. I just saw it on C-SPAN. You know what this means; you've earned your reward." purred a voice like silk dipped in honey. It was mere minutes later when the door opened, as the Senator frantically tried not to touch himself.

She was already naked when she entered. He had neither the time nor inclination to ask about her clothes. Naked save for black, high-heeled shoes. An exotic cascade of midnight hair cascaded over the pale skin of her shoulders. Her eyes were upswept, smouldering and dark, probably Eastern-European in origin – so she seemed. Yet even had the Senator known that the true birthplace of this sultry creature was five thousand light-years away, the knowledge would not have quenched the fires that burned in his groin. Her round, pendulous breasts jiggled as she walked, a sensuous goddess that embodied his deepest, most fiery cravings. She was just the type of woman he'd always asked for during his regular visits to the high-priced, exclusive madams that provided services to Capitol Hill.

Already, her flesh began to gleam with that strange, oily perfume...so sweet; like Rose Oil and tangerines, and the Senator leapt at her. The feverish gleam that burned in his eyes was not that of a man of privilege enjoying his mistress, but rather he had become a frantic maniac with a craving borne of desperation.

He went for her cunt first; grasping her hips as he thrust his tongue into her female depths, as if the wetness there was the elixir of life. She chuckled in glee as his agile mouth tantalized her. But then he worked his way upwards, tongue savoring every bit of her taut belly. Something in the taste of her skin, wherever his mouth was, it seemed like he was going down on a hot, wet cunt. His mouth worked its way past her navel, then up...up to her boobs. From his vantage point, her glorious face was entirely obscured my the mammalian mounds that jutted forth like overgrown coconuts hanging from a tree of erotic promise. He was only able to manage three sucks upon her nipples before all reason fled from him, and the Senator pulled his secret lover near his desk, while he leaned back against it.

His penis almost seemed to burst forth of its own accord as he frantically struggled with his pants, and he pulled her atop him as that eerie, animal growl issued from her throat... gripping her shapely ass and wide hips, he pistoned her nubile body upon his rampant member.

The glee that possessed him was expressed in crazed yelps of excitement, not caring who heard them. His sultry goddess tossed her ebony hair and moaned luridly, all the while her pulsing breasts seemed to grow larger, as if her nipples were targeting him, reaching towards him with a promise of forbidden ecstasy. The orgasm was torn from him as she wrapped her legs about his hips, and the world seemed to fade away compared to the splendor the Senator found within that sopping cunt.


"So you believe you will gain insight from studying the recordings of our infiltration of your planet's command structure?" Asked Dr. Cox. Sitting on a floating, wrap-around desk hovering eight feet in the air, in defiance of Earth's gravity.

"I have to see it....I have to know what happened. Why we gave up." I replied, examining the holographic screens hovering in the air in front of me. I wondered where the camera could have possibly been in either of the three recordings, but alien technology probably didn't have the same limitations as ours.

"You surrendered because of what you are; men. To resist us, you would need to resist your own intrinsic nature."

"No...there's...there's more to me than that!" I grit my teeth at Dr. Cox as she hovered closer. She still had her hair bound all prim and proper, but she had no glasses now, and no clothes. The desk she worked at was built with indentations that helped to contain the heaving boobs that sprouted from her chest, each large enough to contain a full-size survivalist canteen. The room was one of those impossibly white and empty rooms that you might see on commercials where they don't want anything to detract from the product. But in this case; I was the product. "I'm not livestock! I won't be anyone's....er... sperm-slave!"

"So you say. You have a highly inquisitive mind and penetrating intellect; which allowed you to free yourself from our reality simulator, and so...ironically I've been authorized to aid in your education."

"I'm afraid to ask ; but I do wonder why it is that you all speak English."

"The cerebral implant in your ear interfaces with your language centers and allows us to understand each other; it also gives me a wealth of data concerning your individual brain function." I reached towards a strange weight in my left ear, and I felt a cool, smooth object with a shaft that extended into my inner ear, towards my brain!? And anchored by spidery legs around the outside of my ear. And I was lucky to be wearing even that much. These aliens seemed to shun clothing, and they expected the same of their human chattel. My reasonably trim body was stark naked, there seemed to be some embedded metal studs where my feeding tubes had been attached, and there was an annoying plastic cap covering my penis, and I was better dressed than Dr. Cox.

"And yes, attempting to remove the neural probe would be suicide." I swallowed. Time to change the subject.

"It wasn't all a lie, was it? You really are some sort of brain scientist in real life?" The alien woman almost swelled with pride.

"I am the Senior Xenoneurologist of this planet; and Chairslut of the committee that designed the Reality Simulator for your species. And I have plans for you, before you are sent to the mating pool." Chair- what? Did I hear her correctly?

"Ehhrr...no way! I'm doing anything to help your invasion! And I've already given you enough cum – I'm not going into anyone's mating pool!" Her laugh was musical.

"I only wish you had given me enough cum; but all ejaculates from males under the Reality Simulator goes into the common fund. And besides, it must be clear to you now that you have no choice;" She leveled a finger, her eyes narrowing. "You...and every penis on this planet is now the property of the Coit'ii Empire!" Her desk was hovering over me now, and I noticed it had one of those bright, pink panels on the bottom, the same as those I'd seen on the human-magnetic aircraft. And sure enough, I was yanked upwards and adhered to the bottom of her desk-vehicle through invisible forces outside the scope of human science.

"You...Mr. Cecil Damion escaped my Simulator. It is as intriguing as it is upsetting to my ego as a scientist." They were floating upwards, the white ceiling sphinctered open to allow Dr. Cox and her unwilling cargo passage. "But thanks to your neural implant, I am constantly fed a stream of data concerning your exact mental state; so you get your wish...in part." she lowered her voice in a conspiratorial tone. "You are so curious and inquisitive, so you get to learn. You will get a chance to experience the full truth that no human mind now understands."

"Why go to the trouble of helping me at all? Aren't I just a sperm-factory for your Coy – Tee Empire?" She chuckled.

"Coit' – Never mind. It is true that while you are rare, you remain our property. But your mind will be of use to us whether you wish it or not. You see, I'm going to document the way your brain learns real information, and that will give me invaluable insight on how to make the Simulator more realistic to cunning minds. By the simple, involuntary act of learning, you will yet serve our purpose!"

"I...I'll never submit to alien domination! It may take me...the rest of my life, but I'll find a way to fight you!"

"It will be a lonely war then, the greatest challenge for the races we conquer is just wanting to resist. Most never reach that point – I doubt humanity will." I wasn't quite sure what to say to that; but by then we had reached the central shaft of the Tower, and I beheld again thousands....tens of thousands of my fellow human males trapped and strapped in small booths with virtual reality equipment embedded on their heads – hijacking their senses and feeding them a false world of sexual gratification. Indeed, the streams of semen shunting down the clear tubes was proof enough that the occupation of Earth by the Coit'ee was unusually popular. The human ejaculate was gathered into spiraling tubes embedded in the walls, where it was pumped at high speed upwards. For the first time I was getting a real impression of how important sperm must be to this female race, was it for the obvious reason?

On all levels, there were catwalks and floating platforms were more of the Coit'ee went about the business of harvesting semen. All were of course, gloriously naked – their ripe bodies glistening and wet. I could hear them speaking, and thanks to the implant, I could understand snatches of conversation.

"...can sustain human male spermatozoa for journeys of just over one-hundred light-years with less than two-percent degradation."

"...favors a neurosurgical rather than hormonal protocol to permanently increase the male human libido."

"...pitched my idea to the District UnderSlut. She's leaning towards the ribbed shaft design as the most efficient and pleasurable."

I had to snicker, in spite of it all.

"The term is a high compliment in our culture." Reminded Dr. Cox. Hmm....that almost makes sense...

But also amazing were the the smells, I was washed over by a veritable river of aromas. They were tangy and flowery and acrid and earthy. It was far too intense to be a coincidence. I knew that some Earth animals communicated with scent, did the Coit'ii supplement their language that way?

Most surreal of all was the visual dimension. Apparently, as they walked, the aliens were randomly absorbing the deep, sexual fantasies of their captive humans. I saw one pair of honey-blond Classic California girls with bouncy D-cups talking as they passed by rows of human sperm-slaves. In seconds, their tanned skin and flowing hair morphed before my eyes into the complexions of freckled red-heads. It was like one of those cheesy commercials where some shady local outfit tries to show morphs of different customers becoming each other to impress you with how many people use their service. For me, it finally dawned on me that real-life Coit'ii might have a lot more to their natures than was apparent inside the simulated world.

"...forgetting the potential to further increase sperm-count over time; through continuous scientific progress!" One stated emphatically. A strange, lemon-citrus odor washed over me, a surge of aroma that came upon me more suddenly than I might have suspected possible. Her companion shook her head, then walked too close to a tall, brawny black youth with the build of a basketball player moaning in pleasure inside his alcove. Her pale, freckled skin darkened to a light-coffee shade, and her ass cheeks shot out nearly six inches over the course of two steps into rounded curves of sumptuous ghetto-booty. She paused for a moment to run her hands down over her new assets.

"But we need to 'husband' our supply carefully;" Ghetto-booty snickered at her joke. "Experimental Virility enhancers have been known to damage sexual performance in the long run for other species. I think we should take the safer, surer route. The men of this planet already produce enough sperm to service the Empire for decades." A softer, sugary scent came to me then, almost like....bubblegum? Her partner, the lemony-citrus girl had already absorbed a fantasy of a blonde, bronzed-skinned, rippling ab fitness model.

"Those planets with the negative reaction suffered from low birthrates anyway; nothing at all like humanity! The human male is always in heat! He craves sex with females on a daily basis! The Empire has never mated with such a species before!" Fitness model began to morph into a brunette with exceptionally long legs, a swimmer's build, her enthusiasm was palpable- and I thought.... a fruity smell...almost like apple...apple pie?

"All the more reason not to ruin a good thing with risky experiments." Ghetto-Booty paused for a moment next to a skinny, pasty faced teenager mimicking guitar-playing as he hallucinated within his alcove about becoming an idolized rockstar, no doubt with millions of groupies. The Coit'ii closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them her body had become pale and wiry with dark hair graced with a purple, punk-streak down the middle; the perfect Goth-chick girlfriend for the nearest, fantasizing human.

"Well, in the end it's up to the Supreme Andrologist anyway." The first Coit'ii, currently a leggy brunette that seemed to wash my senses with a bubble-gum scent herself. Was there a pattern that I could detect? But then she stopped suddenly as her breasts began to throb. "Oohhh... feel this one," she told her friend as she stood nearby a balding, fortyish business man-broker-banker type, who apparently had quite a breast fetish. Leggy Brunette began to shift into a copper-skinned, dark-haired Latina whose breasts started to flow outwards with rapid growth, like tawny rivers of jiggling boob. She made a shimmying motion as her hips widened past the width of her shoulders. Yet still her errant melons continued to grow. The two lusty entities crowded closer to the source of this desire the way sweaty humans might thrust their faces towards the air-conditioner on a hot day.

"So sensitive," said the second, shifting out of her Goth-girl persona to become a busty sister to her companion. Her expanding breasts filled her palms as she kneaded her own titflesh; within four seconds, her hands could sink into the pillows of boob so deeply that her fingers where hidden up to the first knuckles.

I love this sort of fetish; it makes you feel so fertile and feminine." The first one began hefting her massive juggs in either hand, though truthfully it was extremely difficult to tell them apart anymore, as they copied an identical fantasy. Their assets had just surpassed even Dr. Cox at her largest by at least an inch. Pliant mounds began to exceed even the bustiest of human porn stars.

The first Coit'ii raised up her arms over her head and began to toss her ink-black hair as she thrust her widening boobs towards the insensate human prisoner that gurgled with bliss in his alcove. She shook her chest, watching the careening bounces and quakes of her massive G-cups. "This kind of lust gives the most nourishment by far..." she moaned. A third Coit'ii happened by on the catwalk coming from the other direction, her skin was brown and her hair was auburn, with the polished beauty one might expect from one of the trophy babes in a rap-music video.

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