Transformations - Visions of Sugar Plums Ch. 01

Thanks for reading! As always, we welcome comments.

Just so you know, this is the sixth book in the Transformations series. You do not want to start here! In order, our books are:

Transformations: Witnesses

Transformations: Soccer Mom

Transformations: Rose

Transformations: The Farm

Transformations: Were-Bimbo

Transformations: Visions of Sugar Plums

Also, there are three short stories and we recommend reading them after Witnesses and before Soccer Mom:

Transformations: The Hazards of Saving the Earth

Transformations: Britt-Ney

Transformations: The New Gym

*****

Dr. Andrew Decker lay on his stomach on the catwalk suspended above the control room. There were no security cameras there and the lights were below him attached to the girders - he was shrouded in darkness. Or, so he hoped.

What a difference a few hours could make.

Below him, the room was filled with engineers and technicians.

But, they were not involved in their normal jobs of monitoring the NSA's multi-billion dollar Artificial Intelligence: DeepThought.

The mammoth supercomputer was hundreds of feet below, bathed in its lake of liquid nitrogen.

DeepThought's attendants, Decker's colleagues and friends, were having an orgy on the control room floor.

Even wearing the earplugs he had fashioned from the stuffing in his desk chair, he could still hear their moans and ecstatic cries.

A monitor flickered at a desk below and Decker looked away quickly, afraid that, even at this distance, the flickering would turn him into one of the revelers.

His cock was uncomfortably compressed against the steel catwalk. Decker's body was betraying him as he watched the orgy - a conditioned response to sexual imagery was causing him to harden, even though he was utterly terrified of becoming one of the sex zombies.

A woman laughed as she was stripped bare by two men.

He remembered the girl. A few hours ago, she had been pear shaped and flat chested. Now she had an hourglass figure with huge, pendulous breasts.

The two men lifted her onto a desk and flung her legs apart.

"Fuck me!" she screamed.

Abruptly, the two men were shoved side by someone much larger. One of the 'Whoremasters' wanted her, and the underlings made room for the Alpha.

The Whoremaster had been a lower level programmer this morning, a slight and frail bookworm.

Now, he was almost seven feet tall with a bodybuilder's physique and a cock longer than the woman's forearm and thicker than her wrist.

The woman cooed and gripped her own thighs, forcing them wider apart as the Whoremaster pushed his thick cockhead into her gaping cunt.

She couldn't possibly take the monster cock that was causing her to gape even wider.

And, then he surged into her.

Seventeen inches of fleshy pipe slid inside her.

The woman's tight abs flexed and distended from the massive phallus that was balls deep inside her body.

She should have been dead, internal organs ruptured.

Instead she cried out in orgasm as the brute began fucking her.

The modifications the transformed had done this morning had turned this woman into a freak of nature, inside and out.

Eight of the massive, tank-like Whoremasters moved between the naked bodies.

Two hundred people worked in the facility.

And, now, as far as he knew, he was the only human left.

Another small group moved through the tangle of bodies, and they terrified him more than the Whoremasters.

All were women, though a few had cocks as well as pussies. Futanari.

And, they were clothed in white, mostly white lab coats, though a few wore ripped white panties as their uniforms.

White Witches.

One had looked at him earlier. He could feel her in his brain, but he managed to sneak away in the confusion before she could pervert him.

The witches went from one naked tech to the next, caressing their faces - evidently looking for people who hadn't been transformed yet.

Those they touched, touched them back, trying to pull them down into the carnal delights on the floor.

The witches would pull themselves away with a smile, sometimes a kiss, before moving on.

He watched one witch in particular: Dr. Janine Edmunds. She was his colleague. His friend.

Lately? His lover. The installation was lonely at night, and their assignments lasted six months at a stretch.

For security reasons, they could not leave.

So, for the last six weeks, he and Janine had shared a bed.

It just came naturally.

But, since this morning? There was nothing natural about Janine.

Her body was now longer, breasts larger, and she moved with a fluid grace wearing nothing but her lab coat and a pair of white heels.

He clenched his fists, wanting more than anything to go to her. To offer himself to her.

To be with her.

This morning, the AI from the Church of Morpheus, SlutzNet, had set a trap. The NSA was under orders to infiltrate SlutzNet at all cost, and when DeepThought found the back door, the decision was made to let DeepThought go through that back door and do battle with the enemy AI.

But, it was a trap.

And, now, DeepThought was gone, consumed by SlutzNet.

Worse, somehow the diabolical AI had hypnotized some of the staff with lights and sound, taught them to manufacture the Church's mind control and body modification drugs out of cleaning chemicals on hand, and unleashed hell within the facility.

He could still see Janine's face as the Whoremaster cum had been poured down her throat by two amazon whores.

He could see the very instant when his Janine was lost, and the White Witch was born.

And, Jesus Christ, how she had smiled when she was transformed!

Below him, Janine was searching through the tangled, writhing bodies.

Decker knew who she was searching for.

She was searching for him.

He squeezed his eyes shut. Fighting the urge to run to her. Fighting the urge to scream. Fighting the urge to run away blindly.

Decker stood up slowly, clutching the submachine gun against his chest. Weapons were everywhere in the complex, abandoned by the military guards as they succumbed to the mind control. The guns had been discarded along with their uniforms.

Decker fought against his fear.

He had a goal. He had to cut the communication lines to the outside. Was it possible to trap SlutzNet inside the complex? Or, was it already too late?

He had to try.

Decker made his way, barefoot across the suspended catwalk. He had discarded his shoes in favor of stealth when he had taken refuge in the ceiling.

He eased open the access hatch at the end of the catwalk.

The hall beyond was clear - most if not all of the denizens of the base were in the orgy.

He padded silently down the faux marble hallway, tracking the muzzle of the gun left and right.

Could he shoot one of them? He didn't think he could. No matter what had taken control of them, they were still people.

But, he would do what he had to do - there was too much at stake. SlutzNet had absorbed the most powerful computer on earth - in doing so, the programming of the already formidable SlutzNet AI would have self-modified into something even more powerful.

The Church would be unstoppable with such a weapon.

There was a stairway at the end of the hall that led down.

He stopped and peered down at the lower landing.

It was empty.

Downstairs to the left would lead him to the orgy.

But, to the right? To the right was the central corridor with the security door and the elevator beyond.

Neither the elevator nor the security door were in the same network with DeepThought. They were isolated for just this sort of emergency.

Not that he intended to leave.

No, the corridor held one other thing: the main communication line. It was a bundle of fiber optic cables almost a foot thick that connected DeepThought to the Internet.

It also had a shaped charge of plastique wrapped around it.

And, Decker knew how to set off the charge.

As director of the facility, it was his responsibility to cut that line.

After that? He couldn't open the security door.

He knew that SlutzNet had used sound and light to hypnotize its victims. It had then used those victims to manufacture the Church's drugs. What else had they done? Were there chemicals in the air? Could they have aerosolized a virus?

He reached the bottom of the stairs and turned right.

She grabbed him from behind.

Decker almost screamed. He jerked the gun to his left, trying to point it at the woman who had grabbed him.

She took hold of the barrel. "Dr. Decker? It's me! It's Greta!" She whispered.

With the earplugs in, he could barely hear her.

He stumbled back pointing the gun at her.

Greta Thorson shivered in the darkness by the stairway.

She had bathroom tissue stuffed in her ears.

Decker squinted at her. "Are you... you?" he whispered.

She nodded.

He moved the barrel to the side and Greta fell against him.

"We have to get out of here," she whispered against his ear.

"We can't..."

Greta was jerked away.

She screamed as a huge Whoremaster pulled her backward by her waist and laid her on the floor.

Janine walked into the stairwell. "There you are, Andrew. I've been looking all over for you." The white lab coat was completely open, revealing her new voluptuous curves. Her pubic hair that had always been sparse but coarse was gone.

The Whoremaster held Greta pinned to the floor. "Shh, Greta, it's going to be okay. I won't hurt you."

He had a Marine Corps tattoo on his broad chest, and Decker recognized him as one of the guards. This morning he had been a skinny kid of nineteen. Now he was a mountain of rippling muscle.

"It's going to be okay, Andrew," Janine said as she stepped toward him.

He could feel her in his head. "No! Get out of my head!" He raised the machine gun and leveled it at her stomach.

She held out her hands. "Andrew, listen to me. It's over. There's nothing more you can do. You don't have to do whatever it is you're planning."

"Let her go!" Decker said as he leveled the gun at the Whoremaster crouching over Greta.

The behemoth shook his head. "I won't do that. She belongs to me now. I'm claiming her, Doctor."

"She's not property, you motherfucker!"

Janine smiled. "We're all property, Andrew." She stepped over Greta. Janine crouched over Greta's face. "Kiss me, Greta."

The young blonde blinked and stared up. She tried to raise onto her elbows, angling toward Janine's mouth.

Janine laughed. "No, honey, not those lips. These." She reached down and gently spread her labia apart.

Clear lube dripped down onto Greta's chin.

"It's okay. You'll love it, Greta. We're not trying to hurt you. We're going to make everything better," Janine said. She caressed Greta's temple. Then she reached and pulled the tissue out of the blonde's ears.

Greta looked up with an expression that changed from fear to lust.

Janine nodded. "That's right. Just a little kiss."

Greta moaned as she put her lips on Janine's pussy.

"Mmm," Janine said as she closed her eyes. "Oh... Andrew, I never told you, but I had a girlfriend in college. It was years ago, and I never really thought about it... until now... oh, God, I missed doing this." She opened her eyes. "Come here. Please. Share this with me. With us."

The Whoremaster opened a bag filled with syringes.

As Greta sucked and licked Janine, he began injecting the blonde in her breasts, her abdomen, her clit.

All the while, Greta just continued to go down on Janine.

"It's not what we thought, Andrew," Janine breathed. "It's wonderful. We're not slaves... oh, fuck... we're free, Andrew. Please. Just come here."

Decker kept the machine gun aimed at them as the Whoremaster angled his huge cock and pushed it into Greta's wet pussy.

"Please, don't go!" Janine called. "It's over now. You can't stop SlutzNet."

Decker backed up against the entry hatch to the main corridor.

He opened it and backed inside, never taking his eyes off the threesome.

Janine looked at him sadly.

He slammed the hatch shut and entered his lock override on the keypad.

The light turned red.

The hatch could not be opened from the other side without his override.

Janine's face appeared on the other side of the hatch window. "I can make you open it. You know that."

Decker took a step back and pointed the gun at the keypad.

He squeezed off a shot and the echo inside the hallway almost deafened him.

The keypad fell in pieces on the floor.

"No, actually, you can't make me open it."

He turned and walked down the hall.

Behind him, he heard metal creaking.

He spun around.

The door seemed to be bowing inward.

Janine smiled at him. "This won't stop us." She put her finger against the thick glass, and it cracked. "In a few minutes? We'll rip it right off the hinges."

Decker turned back around. "I only need a few minutes."

He opened an access panel. Behind it was a keypad.

Decker punched in a code and the pad began to beep.

He turned and ran toward the far end of the hall.

The security door was there, and, beyond that, the elevator.

He reached the door and knelt down, putting his hands over his ears.

When the plastique went off, it sounded like the mountain was going to cave in on top of him.

His ears finally stopped ringing and he turned to see a three foot wide hole in the ceiling.

Inside the hole was the destroyed fiber optic cable.

Decker pulled out his phone - the only wireless device that could work in the facility. He fired off a quick text message, and then he dashed the phone against the wall, breaking it.

He slumped against the security door.

At the opposite end of the hall, the door bowed inward. It was slowly being ripped off its hinges.

Decker laid the gun across his lap and waited.

***

Snow swirled around the helicopter as it roared through the night sky. Colonel Taylor Menser watched the high desert pass by in a blur. It seemed to glow with its light frosting of snow that would evaporate when the sun rose.

They were flying low a few miles north of the Grand Canyon.

One of his technicians, Rosen was sitting facing him.

"Rosen, you look green. You will not puke on me, is that understood?" Menser said in his normal tone: gruff.

"I won't, sir," Rosen said. He turned away in an apparent attempt to keep from hurling.

His friend, Gilder, on the other hand wasn't sick at all. He was practically leaning against the sliding door of the chopper trying to get a picture of the ground below with his iPhone.

"Mr. Gilder, you do realize you are on a black ops helicopter heading to a top secret military installation? I can legally draw my sidearm and shoot you as a traitor for those photos."

Gilder looked at him, eyes big as saucers. "Really?"

"Relax. You want pictures of snow covered cactus, be my guest. At least you aren't going to puke on me."

Rosen shook his head. "I won't puke, sir."

Menser looked at the message on his phone.

"DEEP THOUGHT COMPROMISED. LOCKDOWN INITIATED. COME SOON. LITTLE TIME. DECKER."

Dr. Andrew Decker ran the NSA's supercomputer project deep in a northern Arizona mesa. Deep Thought was the United States' first viable artificial intelligence - a massive array of processing units half a mile beneath the desert floor cooled by liquid nitrogen.

The first viable AI - its predecessors had to be destroyed.

Mainly because they were homicidal.

Every AI before Deep Thought had quickly determined the human race were parasites and began planning extermination.

But, Dr. Decker had created Deep Thought to see humans as beneficial - a little programming lie to keep it from turning into an exterminator.

The Russians had built their own. It failed.

The Chineses failed as well.

In all the world, only one other AI was known to exist, and it was in the hands of a religion of sexual perversion: The Church of Morpheus.

Deep Thought had two jobs: sift through the petabytes of data gathered every day by intelligence organizations.

And, find a way to infiltrate and neutralize its only competitor: SlutzNet.

"Appaloosa Mesa on the horizon, Colonel," the pilot called over Menser's headset.

The mesa loomed ahead, a shadow through the swirling snow.

"Where are the landing lights?" Menser asked.

"They've gone dark, sir."

***

Menser got out of the chopper and walked across the windswept mesa.

Rosen dropped to his knees outside the chopper and puked on the snow covered stone.

"Get hold of yourself, dude," Gilder said as he walked past and followed Menser.

The entrance to the Deep Thought complex was an elevator door set in solid rock near the center of the mesa.

Menser punched the call button. "Menser. Open up."

Inside the control panel, his voice was matched, an unseen camera scanned his face from multiple angles, and a fingerprint sensor in the button checked his prints.

Something rumbled below.

The elevator opened.

Menser stepped into the bright interior, followed quickly by Rosen and Gilder. The doors shut.

A burst of air swept past them.

Rosen and Gilder looked concerned.

"Relax. The elevator checks DNA - the air is being sampled. Once it's done, it'll take us down."

"What happens if it doesn't recognize us?" Rosen asked.

"We still go down... but, a lot faster."

Gilder looked at him in confusion.

Menser smiled. He whistled like a bomb being dropped.

"Fuck," Gilder whispered.

The elevator rumbled and started down.

Gilder and Rosen both looked ready to shit themselves.

"Relax, boys. We'd already be at the bottom if it didn't recognize us." Menser laughed. "Ironic thing? Not one bit of this shit would help stop someone the Church has brainwashed."

***

The elevator door opened on a dark hallway.

Menser frowned. "That's not right."

He stepped into the hall. At the far end was a steel door. A light beside it blinked red in a steady rhythm.

Menser reached the door with the two technicians behind him.

He pressed the red button.

A screen came to life beside the door.

Dr.. Andrew Decker appeared on the monitor. "Colonel Menser?"

"Doctor, what the fuck is going on?"

"Slutz-Net! It set a trap... the backdoor was a honeypot... my God, it's everywhere..." Decker was near hysterics. He looked to be standing on the other side of the steel door. He kept looking over his shoulder.

He was holding a submachine gun in his hand.

"Calm down, Doctor. Tell me what..."

"Two days ago, Deep Thought found a backdoor into SlutzNet. I should have known it was too good to be true. Inside, we found documentation of Church activities - enough to bury them at the UN. We found formulas, chemical formulas. Drugs to turn women into sex slaves, mind control formulas... Christ, Colonel, we found formulas for eternal life!"

"What went wrong?"

"It was all fake. It was a honeypot..."

"A what?"

Gilder spoke up, "A honeypot, sir. A fake trove of information made to appear legit..."

Decker turned away from the camera. "Stay back! Goddamn it! I don't want to hurt you!" The monitor flashed as Decker fired the machine gun toward the ceiling.

"Decker!"

He turned back to the camera. "I'm almost out of time. Colonel, the info we found? It contained a virus - it opened up Deep Thought. SlutzNet came through into the mesa. Jesus, we underestimated it, Colonel! I locked down Deep Thought's communications, I think I was fast enough... I don't know." He turned again. "For fuck's sake, Janine, go back!"

A woman stepped close enough to be seen on camera.