Xenobiological Morphosis Ch. 04

"Terry, it's okay. You can come out now, we've kissed and made up now." Amy crooned through the door as though trying to sooth a spooked animal.

"Open the door, Stud and we'll show you." Bernie giggled, "It's totally hot."

"Uurgh... wait. Just give me a minute, will you?" Terry groaned, wrapping a towel around his waist and trying to cover the worrisome perma-boner extending out in front of him like iron rail.

"You know, Amy." Bernie whispered conspiratorially. "Two big bad-ass bitches like us could probably tear that door right off its hinges, no sweat."

"I heard that!"

"Calm down, Tiger. No one is going to do anything of the sort." Amy reassured him. "Bernie, you're not helping matters."

"I was just saying..." The not-so-small-anymore blonde huffed.

Terry resigned himself to the fact that there was little he could do about the third leg he was apparently growing and sat down on the edge of the tub to try and think through his options. Could he risk going to a doctor? It would be expensive but if he found a male doctor, preferably a very old male doctor, maybe he would be alright?

Who was he kidding, the moment he unveiled the dragon he would be rushed to a hospital and all hell would break loose.

Because... what could he say? "Sorry, I can't go to the emergency room because the nurses will tear each other apart for the chance to blow me."

What a joke. A terribly unfunny cosmic joke and Terry was the punch-line.

"We can work this out, we just need to retrace our steps." Amy was saying from outside the bathroom, going into full researcher mode. "I came home early yesterday because I couldn't stop thinking about our amazing sex that morning and was experiencing a powerful need to see you. That was certainly odd but neither of us was... growing before we left the house."

Huh. Terry looked up and gave the locked door a thoughtful stare. She wasn't wrong...

"It started at work." He said pensively, "I was in the storeroom doing inventory."

"I found him like that when I went out back to bring him his coffee." Bernie added, trying to be helpful. "I walked in and Terry had his pants down and that giant pussy-pounder in his hands."

"It was a little more complicated than that." Terry protested, feeling frustrated at Bernie's blasé version of events.

"Then let's simplify the problem." Amy said reasonably. "Terry, you and Bernice head back to the store to look around for anything unusual. It's nearly opening time anyway and you'll both be late for work if you don't hurry."

Terry stood and cracked the door a fraction to peer out at his future bride-to-be. She stood back from the door to give him some breathing room and had pulled Bernie away with her. She was still naked, her dark chestnut curls flowing like river rapids of warm chocolate across the top slopes of her bountiful breasts. She was big and beautiful and perfect. Built sleek, strong and undeniably feminine like some mythical huntress from legend.

Specifically, one who would have to duck a little to fit through doors and dodge low hanging light fixtures.

"What are you going to do while we are gone?" He asked, giving a grinning Bernie the side-eye. The Brobdingnagian blonde was naked as a jay-bird too, and kept throwing him saucy winks and making lewd gestures from behind Amy's back.

"I am going to do some research." Amy said and glanced back towards the kitchen. Her nostrils flared and a small smirk drew itself across her face. "Now hurry upstairs and get dressed. See if you can't find something in my wardrobe to fit Bernice. No time for hanky-panky, you two."

"Awww... Not even a good morning blowie?" Bernie pouted playfully as Terry finally exited the bathroom. "There's always time for a quick pump and dump."

"I don't know why she's started speaking like that." Terry said, stepping up to Amy and giving her a soft kiss on the cheek. He had to stand up on tip-toes to reach her face, it felt a little surreal. "Thanks, Doll. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"She doesn't shock me and I expect a thick tasty reward from you later, Tiger." She said, looking down at him with a big predatory grin. "I want you home by lunchtime. I'll have worked up a real appetite by then. Now off with you."

Then she gave Terry a crisp slap on his butt that made him yelp and sent him scurrying up the stairs with Bernie laughing in hot pursuit.

That was going to leave a mark. These damn women didn't know their own strength.

________________

High Psychophant Qwaizoo drifted alongside the Grand Scrutineer as he contemplated the complex display of biometric readings.

"What do you make of it, sir?" He inquired politely, trying to ignore the embarrassing way his superiors' pseudopod curled and twitched.

The rest of the bridge crew were resolutely pretending not to notice so Qwaizoo would be damned to the freezing vacuum of the void before he said anything about it.

"Intriguing... Most intriguing, High Psychophant. These findings are as unexpected as they are stimulating." Grand Scrutineer Dhuussod burbled, his excitement plainly evident as his mucus membranes visibly moistened.

Stimulating, huh? Qwaizoo could see just how stimulated the expedition leader was becoming and it was getting so awkward that not a single eye-stalk on the bridge would look their way. All except one painfully familiar pair.

Flunky third class Bhamme was watching keenly as the Grand Scrutineer brought up twin projections of the two female Hootnams, the transparent blue representations of their repugnant bony forms were riddled throughout with thick clusters of vibrant red spots.

"Is that the compound X244-1d, sir?" The hapless Flunky asked from his station.

"Stay on task, Flunky Third Class." Qwaizoo ordered. This was humiliating enough without the ship's resident idiot getting involved. "I want to see those eye-stalks locked on the environmental controls..."

"No, no..." Dhuussod interjected with a magnanimous rippling of his gills. "That is an astute observation, Flunky Bhamme. Can you speculate on how the compound has come to be present within the terrestrial females bodies?"

"Is it from all the peg- I mean... the copulatory act?"

"Very good, Flunky Bhamme!" The Grand Scrutineer strobed pleased flashes of gray across his cerebral bell. "The females are ingesting the genetic extract produced by the cellular colony currently propagating within the Hootnam test subjects' reproductive tissues."

"Oh, that's amazing." Bhamme exclaimed, the bumbling fool looked pleased with himself.

"Yes, indeed. Very interesting." Enthused Dhuussod. "Come let us observe the recordings again. This is such a unique and stimulating case study..."

May the Prime Smack forgive him but Qwaizoo was giving serious consideration to ejecting both suspected Craterisal degenerates out of an airlock. Consequences be damned...

________________

"You cannot be comfortable sitting like that." Terry said, searching for an empty parking space closer to the rear loading dock of Ezyway Electronics. "You should have laid down in the back like I suggested."

"Boo! No way." Bernie teased from below him and Terry gasped when she rubbed her face against his unflagging monstrosity again. "Why would I ever want to be further from your magic dick than strictly necessary? Besides, this way I get to clean up any leaks before you make a mess."

Bernie's fit super-star ass was lodged firmly in the passenger seat where it belonged but the rest of her long, lean athletic body was stretched languidly out across the center console until her big perfect tits overfilled the cup holders and her cute button nose was polishing his belt buckle. She had explained it was because the car was too small for her to sit up normally now... you know, like NBA players always complained about.

It definitely, most certainly--crossed her heart and hoped to die--was not so she could rub her cheeks against his eternal monolith of an erection and suck all the bubbling pre-cum her teasing touch elicited out through the cotton of his shirt. Terry sighed but Bernie just cooed in delight and kissed the bulge where his bulbous crown was wedged just beneath his left pectoral.

Terry couldn't complain too much, without Bernie's help, his heinous hard-on would have been in a fist fight with the steering wheel for the entire drive across town.

"If you say so..." Terry muttered distractedly as he put the dinky hatchback into park and eyed off the big roller doors with concern. "It looks locked up pretty tight. I was hoping we could avoid going in through the main doors."

"Yeah, there aren't any early stock deliveries on Thursdays so no need to open the loading dock until later." Bernie confirmed, raising her head a fraction to see over the steering wheel. "Why are you even worried? I thought you said Miss Gwendoline wasn't going to be a problem."

"That's what I am worried about." Terry said in a resigned tone and undid his seat-belt. "There's nothing else for it though, come on. I'm going to need you to run interference."

"No problem, Stud. I'll be all over you like flies on shit." She tastelessly assured him. "Saaaay~ do we have time for a quickie before we go in? I could use some hot sticky liquid courage to wet my whistle..."

"Ugh, no... Not after that shit comment. Hurry it up, we only have five minutes until opening time."

________________

Terry was feeling extremely self-conscious as he walked through the automatic doors into the front of the store. He wasn't dressed in his best, to say the least.

Sure, his black leather oxfords were nice and polished, but they were his only homage to store uniform policy, dressed as he was in black elastic-waist sweatpants and a badly wrinkled, cum-stained white button-up.

Clothing options were strictly limited since he was basically smuggling a whole Italian salami down his front.

"Remember to stick close by me, Bernie." Terry muttered, keeping his head on a swivel. "You have to shield "it" from view or there's going to be major trouble."

Bernie hadn't been as focused on company dress standards so much as she was on finding something that actually fit her freshly gigantified measurements. A lemon-drop yellow pair of yoga leggings were stretched to near transparency over her sculpted calves, thick thighs and smooth hips, coming up well short of her ankles and digging deep into her spectacular ass-cleavage like a g-string.

One of Amy's extra-large baggy hockey jerseys (Go Canucks!) was plastered across her buoyant ballooning breasts like a thin layer of blue and white body paint. Her fat nipples clearly poked through the fluffy fabric and much of her smooth, softly defined tummy was on display by way of an unavoidable midriff given her towering new stature.

"Reading you loud and clear, Stud." Bernie tittered and slid herself in front of Terry, backing her muscular booty up to grind against the girthy bulge in his shirt. "You just keep that huge donkey-dick hotdogged firmly between my buns and we'll be home free before you know it."

"Bernie, this isn't practical. You're too big and I can't see around you..." Terry objected, craning his neck to check see if his fellow wage-slaves were paying then any attention.

He needn't have bothered, they were all occupying their own miserable workday worlds or playing glumly on their phones. God but this place sucked, Terry ruminated. If a gorgeous, nearly eight-foot tall goddess wasn't a cause for comment then something was truly wrong.

"Are you complaining?" Bernie grinned wickedly down at him from over her slender shoulder then flexed her mighty butt-cheeks.

Terry almost swooned. That ass was riper and juicer than an orchard of peaches, and what little blood pressure was left in his brain plummeted.

Bernie had pulled her shiny golden locks back in a long, thick ponytail that was swaying in Terry's face, filling his olfactory with the dizzying smell of her floral shampoo. He was on the verge of seizing the tempting titan by reins and bending her over the customer service desk when a cold voice rang out over the crowd of milling staff.

"Terrence! I want to see you in my office immediately. Everybody else, prepare to open the store."

"Yes, Miss Gwendoline." The mournful refrain chorused from the sales floor.

"What does her Majesty want now?" Bernie muttered as she began slowly drifting towards the glass-fronted manager's office with Terry in tow.

Terry thought he might have an idea but was too focused on bringing up Bernie's rolling rear to say anything. Several of the cashiers unlocking the tills were young women and while Terry desperately hoped that his magnetically charismatic cock wouldn't have the same effect on his male coworkers, he didn't have any proof either way.

He fervently prayed that it didn't because that would get downright awkward. So he played it safe and all but pasted himself to Bernie's back to keep any sign of his over-prominent bulge out of the public eye.

Just when Terry thought they had found a matching stride and might have things somewhat under control, they reached Miss Gwendoline's office and all hope of salvation vanished.

"Please come in, Terrence. Your... Bimbo can leave and close the door behind herself."

Bernie stiffened at the barb and one glance around her broadside confirmed Terry's worst fears. The usually austere ice-queen store manager was testing the boundaries of the corporate dress code herself.

Gwen reclined on the corner of her desk with her mouth-watering long legs crossed, wearing a skimpy, though fashionable, outfit that would have been more at home in an exclusive nightclub than a big-brand retail electronics store.

Impractically tall strappy platform heels dangled just above the gray office carpet, Terry's eyes ran up the smooth tan skin of Gwen's calves and thighs to the tantalizingly short hem of a hip-hugging mini-skirt in a dark leopard print. It was belted high on her waist and her top, a black long-sleeved number made of some sheer elastic material, was open all the way down to her navel.

It exposed a long highway of succulent glowing flesh leading the way to the hidden valley between her crossed legs and left the inner curves of her generous mature breasts out for Terry to get momentarily lost in. Her auburn hair was swept stylishly back to showcase her fine featured face and a matching black satin choker adorned her slender throat.

"Bimbo? That's rich coming from an ancient hag dressed up like a high-class whore." Bernie scoffed, pushing Terry back behind her.

Gwen blinked up at her as though only just recognizing the tremendous blonde coed and scowled. In her defense, Terry thought "ancient hag" might have been a bit much. From where he was standing Miss Gwendoline didn't have a line or blemish anywhere on her toned ageless body and, with how scandalously she was dressed, his quick inspection was unusually thorough.

Terry's copious cockhead let out a short wet burst of appreciative agreement, soaking another stain into his already unsightly shirt. If the damn thing ever dried out, Terry was pretty sure he'd never have to starch it again.

"Bernice, is that you? It doesn't matter..." She remarked, blowing Bernie off with a dismissive wave. "Go make my coffee and then you are on stocktaking duty for the rest of the day. I wish to speak with Terrence alone."

"Are you even looking at me, bitch?" Bernie bristled, rising up to her full impressive height and gesturing towards her magnificent self. "If I can't waltz back into college and win a full ride athletic scholarship, and I mean by tomorrow, then I will have every modeling agency in the state begging to take me on by the end of the week. Get your own fucking coffee, I quit!"

Miss Gwendoline wasn't about to be cowed in the locus of her own petty power and got to her feet to stare icy daggers up at the glowering giantess. This wasn't what they were here for and Terry was shocked at how quickly their carefully laid plans were unraveling into horny bitchy chaos.

"Very well, then you are terminated, by mutual agreement." Miss Gwendoline said brusquely. "Now get out of my office."

"You don't get to tell me what to do anymore, Gwen. You don't mind if I call you Gwen now, right?" Malice dripped from every word coming out of Bernies sweet cherry lips and Terry was getting a bad feeling about the way things were playing out. "I think you need to stop being such an up-tight cunt, Gwen and loosen the fuck up a little."

"I am going to call the police if you do not..."

"Lucky for you, Gwen. Terry here is a total goddamn legend at loosening up tight cunts." Bernie crowed, talking over the older woman and grabbing Terry just as he was considering leaping for the door to escape. She lifted him off his feet and spun him around until he was face to face with his beautiful, if somewhat stunned manager. "How about it, Gwen?"

There was the sound of snapping threads and every eye in the room slowly drifted downward as the buttons popped off Terry's shirt, one by one in descending order.

Like a great toppling Californian redwood parting the forest mists, Terry's gargantuan girthy shaft slow-motioned its way free of his rending clothing and crash-landed on the bare strip of silky flesh above Gwen's taut tummy with a wet meaty slap!

"Dammit Bernie..." Terry groaned as he watched Gwen's shocked expression morph into the steely-eyed focus of a hunting hawk sighting prey. "This wasn't what we were here- aaagh~!"

Gwen had seized his apple-sized knob in both her soft manicured hands and began eagerly rubbing it against the rubbery smooth skin of her sternum, smearing thick glistening trails of his drizzling precum all the way up to the lowest curves of her full brilliant breasts.

"Bernice can stay or go as she likes. She doesn't work here anymore..." The once aloof untouchable Miss Gwendoline hissed, hot passion blazing from under her luxurious dark lashes. "But you still do, Terrance and you will do as I tell you."

There were no prizes for guessing where this trainwreck was headed but Terry tried one last plea for sanity.

"Jeezus~ Miss Gwendol- ...Gwen." He amended when she gave him a hard warning squeeze that turned his knees to putty. "I'm engaged to Amy and your office walls are nothing but glass, everybody will see us."

"I don't care, Terrence!" She snarled, her elegant face taking on a feral expression. "The people can leave or they can watch. I just need you to fuck me with this massive dick until I scream."

Terry didn't fight her. He couldn't, not even if he wanted to.

Bernice had her strong arms wrapped around his chest, trapping his body against her front, with his head nestled between her prodigious breasts that were big and bouncy enough to use as trampolines. The trouble-making goliath was watching the ensuing action with a lascivious leer as she hugged him to her like prized plushy.

Terry was beginning to feel a little objectified...

"I might not be some twenty year-old bimbo, Terrence but I've seen the way your eyes wander over me." Gwen purred, stepping in close to Terry and dragging his sensitive crown up her chest until it nestled in the sweet-spot between her cushiony bra-less tits.

They were large and gravity had yet to send them it's calling card. Two flawless heavenly spheres of mature tit-flesh barely contained within her flimsy insubstantial top. "I know you think I'm pretty and I find you attractive too. I was up all night touching myself, fantasizing about you and this..."