Alison and the Poo Monsters 2: Screwed By Poo

by Arthur Saxon
arthursaxon@zombieworld.com

The bizarre news item reached even Newcastle. Michael Dawkins took one look at the article in the newspaper, then packed his bags and returned to London as quickly as he could. He knew what must have happened - his sister had used the spell book and fallen foul of the consequences. Well at least she was safe, now. But it was imperative that he find out exactly what spells she cast so that he could try to prevent further problems.

He drove to the hospital in which she was being treated, and demanded to see her. The staff were reluctant, but finally he was taken to her doctor, who was only too happy to see Michael.

"This," said Dr Singh quietly, "is one of the most extraordinary things I have ever seen. You had better sit down."

"It's okay," said Michael grimly, "I am prepared for an extraordinary story. Just tell me what happened."

"Well, she was brought in here yesterday by police who found her lying in a sewer. You may have read about the…"

"I saw the article."

"Quite. Well, what the article did not say was that she appeared to be heavily pregnant at the time. Yet when she began to deliver…" Here the doctor paused and wiped his brow unhappily.

"Go on," prompted Michael.

"She … gave birth to some kind of creature that was made entirely of … well, of excrement!"

"Yikes!" Michael was shocked. "Poor Alison!"

"That's only the beginning. Within a few minutes she had given birth to thirteen other creatures, all identical to the first. In shape they resembled human babies, but they were able to run around on two legs almost from the second they emerged."

Michael sank into a chair. "Good Lord, this is worse than I thought. What did you do with these creatures?"

"Oh we decapitated them with the biggest knife we could find," said Dr Singh cheerfully. "That stopped them moving well enough. Then we chopped them up and flushed them. Oh, except one, which we've kept for detailed examination."

"So, is Alison okay now?" asked Michael.

The doctor shook his head. "A few minutes after the last 'birth'," he said, "she defecated, and her stool was similarly imbued with a life of its own. We chopped it up and flushed it, but I'm not convinced we killed it - the pieces were all still wriggling when they disappeared down the pan." He sighed. "A little over an hour later, she defecated again, and the same thing happened. And an hour after that, and an hour after that. Fortunately she's quite regular - we know when we need to get back in there and capture her expulsions." He looked at his watch. "She's due to defecate again in about thirty-five minutes. Heaven knows where it's all coming from, and I've no idea how we are to stop it."

"I might be able to help there," said Michael. "I just need to talk to her alone for a few minutes."

"You mean you know what's causing all this?" asked the doctor.

"I might," replied Michael guardedly.

"I hope so, because then perhaps you might be able to explain another mystery for me… Anyway, please come this way. In view of her … unusual condition, we've kept her isolated in one of the private rooms. I think she's awake, but she's a little weak. She was quite dehydrated when she came in here, and completely exhausted. Here we are - I'll leave the two of you alone. Come and see me afterwards, if you please."

"Thanks - I will." Michael entered the room and closed the door behind him. Alison was awake, and propped up on pillows. She looked pale and tired, but she smiled when she saw her brother.

"Hi," she said faintly. "I'm glad you're here. You've got to cancel the spell…"

"I know," he said. "But which spell was it? How on Earth did you get yourself into this mess?"

Alison's lip trembled, then she began to cry. "I don't know what went wrong!" she sobbed. "I cast a few spells, but they all seemed to backfire…"

"Hush," Michael soothed her. "Just start from the beginning."

Alison closed her eyes and thought hard. "The first one was to cure my … um, constipation."

Michael blinked in surprise. "Jeez, Alison! They've got pills for that, you know!"

"I know! Look do you want to tell me off or hear my story?"

"Okay, I'm sorry - go on."

"Then I cast a spell on my watch to make it keep time properly and wind itself up…"

Michael's brow furrowed. "How did you do that?" he inquired.

"There's a spell for giving inanimate objects the ability to move by themselves," Alison explained.

"Inanimate objects," Michael repeated, looking puzzled. "That doesn't make sense - the spell book only deals with the human body…" Then he gasped. "Did it say 'non-living objects'?"

"That rings a bell. Yeah, probably."

Michael slapped his forehead. "It's referring to reanimating the dead, I think. So, well, nothing should have happened, right?"

"But it did! For some reason the spell was cast on my poo!"

"But that's impossible! I don't get it!" Michael paced back and forth in thought. Then he stopped. "Just how did you cast the spell, exactly…?"

"The same way I cast the first one. I stood in the circle and focused on my watch…"

"You what?" Michael stared at her. "Why on Earth did you stand in the circle??"

"But I thought…"

"You idiot!" exclaimed Michael. "Any spell that you cast acts upon whatever's inside the circle! You aren't supposed to 'focus' on the person, or thing, that you're casting the spell on - you're supposed to place it on the floor inside the circle! No wonder this has all happened! The only non-living material inside the circle would have been your poo, and probably your urine as well - have you had bladder problems too?"

Alison was looking sick. "Oh my God," she murmured to herself. "I didn't know… I didn't know!" She sighed. "No, I haven't been having bladder problems."

"Hmm, that's a relief. Maybe you can't animate bodily fluids. So what other spells did you cast?"

"Um, a spell to make Vince Lambert attracted to me."

Michael rolled his eyes. "Which was cast, no doubt, on your poo, which by that time had achieved a certain degree of sentience. What a mess! Anything else?"

"Oh, I cast a spell to make my money replicate itself…"

"Hence the rapid production of your poo," said Michael, nodding. "Okay, we need to get you home so we can work on cancelling these spells. But, um, you haven't explained how you came to be in the sewer?"

Alison shuddered and closed her eyes. "I can't talk about that right now," she whispered. "It's just too horrible."

"All right. You just rest there for a while, and I'll go and see your doctor."

He left the room and found Dr Singh.

"Any luck in ascertaining the cause of this problem?" inquired the doctor.

"Kind of. I need to get her home so that I can stop the, um, the production of her poo."

"But how can you do that? What is causing it?"

"I can't explain," said Michael. "Let's just say that Alison was meddling in things that she didn't know a heck of a lot about, and only I can fix the problems she's caused. So I just need to take her home…"

"Do you know a girl named Rebecca Booth, by any chance?"

Michael frowned. "Booth … I don't know - there's a family of that name who live just down the road from me - I don't know their first names though."

"This would be a young girl of about your sister's age, maybe a bit younger…"

"Oh, that could be the daughter - she goes to the same school as Alison I think."

"Ah, yes - this begins to make sense. A few days ago she came in here with an extremely unusual problem - she kept defecating continuously, a never-ending flow that only stopped when we began to operate on her. She appeared to have had some kind of surgery, though none that was familiar to me. Some of her internal organs had been replaced with an artificial system… Did you have anything to do with that…?"

Michael shook his head. "I'm afraid not," he said. "Honestly."

Dr Singh narrowed his eyes. "I hope you're right," he said. "That poor girl has been through a lot, and I would not like to think…"

"I swear to you!" insisted Michael. "I couldn't even begin to explain the surgery … I've never heard of such a thing. I might, however, be able to do something to fix the continuous defecation - maybe I could go and see her sometime."

The doctor nodded, unconvinced. Then he looked at his watch. "Ah, it's nearly time for us to get ready to catch your sister's latest production."

"Can you discharge her after that?" asked Michael.

"Certainly not!" replied Dr Singh. "We need to keep a close eye on her here."

"I can look after her at home," said Michael, "and I need her there in order to fix her problem." He knew this was not strictly true, but he did not want the inquisitive doctor to find out anything else from Alison.

Dr Singh was not pleased, but he relented. "Very well," he said. "But you must promise to bring her back if her condition gets any worse."

"I will," said Michael.

An hour later they were back at Michael's house, only to discover it had been turned into a crime scene. A police car was outside, and there was yellow tape across the front gate. Michael stepped over it and hurried inside, leaving Alison to make her own way. Dressed in her own clothes which the police had brought to the hospital, she felt a little more normal, though when she stood up she suddenly felt very faint. She staggered around the car and mounted the pavement, following her brother.

Michael was by now inside. He found a policeman and a policewoman in deep discussion in the living room. They turned in surprise as he entered.

"Hey, you can't come in here!" exclaimed the policeman.

"I live here!" retorted Michael. "And … what the fuck?" He stared around at the room, which had been transformed beyond all recognition. The carpet was missing. The pictures had all been taken down and the wallpaper was visibly damp and stained in places. The furniture was piled up against one wall, and its upholstery was missing."

"Ah, Michael Dawkins?"

"Yes, that's me," confirmed Michael absently as he stared around him.

"Good evening sir. I'm PC Barnett and this is my colleague, DC Evans. I'm afraid we have some unfortunate news about your sister, Alison."

"I know it already," said Michael. "I've brought her home."

"Oh?" Barnett frowned. "The hospital discharged her already?"

"Yes, she's fine. Just needs some rest. Now could you tell me what happened to this room?"

"We don't know, exactly," admitted the policeman. "But it was a terrible mess yesterday, I can tell you. Covered in shit. The whole house was, actually. We cleaned it as part of our investigation - none of our detectives were prepared to work in here otherwise - but I'm afraid you'll have to replace a lot of your stuff."

Michael threw up his hands in despair. "This is a nightmare! Covered in shit, you say?" He frowned, trying to figure out how this could have happened, even given that Alison had been giving birth to creatures made out of poo.

"It's a mystery to us too, sir," said the policewoman, speaking for the first time. "When we were alerted by one of your neighbours, we got here as soon as we could, but we found the front door wide open and a trail of excrement leading out of the house and round to the back. The inside of the house was a mess, but it was empty, so we followed the trail and it led us to an open manhole leading down into the sewers. We sent in a team and they discovered your sister after a couple of hours' searching. But there was no indication of where all the excrement came from."

"Anyway sir," said Barnett, "since you're back here, we might as well be off. Please give us a call on this number" - he handed Michael a card - "if you find anything that might prove helpful to the investigation. In any case, we'll be in touch again soon. Good evening, Miss. Are you all right?"

Michael turned and saw Alison swaying in the doorway. "She's fine," he said quickly. "Just exhausted. I'll put her to bed right away."

"Ah, well I hope you have clean sheets somewhere," said the policeman, "because we had to strip the bed - it was in a disgusting condition."

"We'll manage," said Michael. "Thanks for everything."

"That's all right sir. Good day." He and the policewoman left, and Michael closed the front door.

"Come on," he said to Alison, "let's get you upstairs." He led her up the uncarpeted staircase and into the bedroom. It was in a terrible state, but the mattress, fortunately, was still on the bed. It was still a little damp from a recent washing, so he fetched a plastic undersheet from the spare bedroom and laid it on top. Then he sat Alison on the side of the bed and pulled a fresh sheet out of a drawer. Spreading it out and tucking it in as quickly as he could, he then went in search of a clean duvet. He found no spares, so he took the duvet from his own bed and hurried back through to Alison's room. "Here you go," he said. "Why don't you lie down and take it easy, and I'll go and have a look through that spell book."

"Okay…" murmured Alison, then promptly fainted.

Michael caught her as she fell forward, then laid her gently back down on the bed. It was then that he remembered the doctor's words about her hourly defecations. Alarmed, he looked at his watch. It had been almost an hour since they had left the hospital - time was running out. He pulled Alison's shoes off and then feverishly worked to remove her jeans, unzipping them and pulling them off by degrees (they were rather tight). Then he hesitated, uncomfortable about pulling off her panties.

"Hey wake up, Alison," he said, but she remained insensible.

Biting his lip, he rolled her over on to her front, in order to avoid seeing her pussy as he took her panties off. But then he started in surprise - the back of Alison's panties had just begun to bulge, as if pushed outwards from within. Quickly he leaned forward, then took hold of her waistband and pulled it away from her bottom, peering inside to see what was going on.

A thick, brown, soft poo was emerging quickly from between his sister's buttocks. As it reached six inches in length it began to curl around, forming a growing pile which nestled between Alison's panties on one side and her bottom on the other. Michael was repelled yet fascinated. Then he shook himself. What was it the doctor had done with the others? Ah yes - he had broken them up and flushed them down the toilet.

But just as Michael was debating how he should pick up the poo without getting himself messy, the object began to move. With astonishing speed, its rounded tip slithered downwards and the rest of it, like the body of a slug, followed after. Michael gasped in amazement and stared as the poo quickly disappeared from view. When only a couple of inches were left visible, Michael swiftly pulled Alison's buttocks apart to see where the poo was going. As he saw the last little bit vanish into his sister's cunt, his heart sank. He would have to get it out.

He pulled Alison's panties off and rolled her on to her back. Gritting his teeth, he lifted her knees up and pushed them wide apart, thus giving himself easy access to her vagina. Trying not to look at her pussy, he gently inserted one finger into her cunt, then pushed it deep, looking for the runaway poo. Perplexed, he inserted another finger and pushed deeper, but to no avail - he could find no trace of the poo.

He withdrew his fingers. What was he to do now? The object was now ensconced deep inside his sister's body, and was no doubt growing and turning into a baby-like creature. This was not good. Hurriedly, he pulled Alison's panties up her legs and fitted them back into place. Then he covered her with the duvet and drummed his fingers on the edge of the mattress, contemplating his options. How long did he have before she gave birth? Could he find a spell that would stop the poo's growth and/or flush it out of her body?

"Michael?"

Alison's voice startled Michael out of his reverie. "Yes?"

"I'm thirsty - could you get me some water please?" Her voice sounded weary and her speech slurred slightly.

"Sure. And then you must get some sleep." Michael got to his feet and fetched a glass of water from the kitchen. He took it to his sister and then went out on to the landing to pull the loft ladder down. Climbing up into the loft space, he searched for his spell book but could find it nowhere. Cursing, he realised that Alison must have left it somewhere in the house. And then an awful thought struck him: what if the police had found it, and had impounded it as evidence? A cold sweat broke out on his brow as he contemplated the possible consequences of this.

He descended to the landing, and went into the study. This room was reasonably clean, thankfully. He switched his computer on, then noticed with delight that the spell book was sitting next to the keyboard. Sitting down to wait while his PC booted up, he flipped through the book, looking for useful spells. There was such a thing as a nullification spell, but it only stopped a spell-in-progress. It would not reverse the effects of a completed spell.

His eyes lit upon a spell for rendering a living creature motionless, but after considering this for a minute he discounted the idea - it might stop Alison's heart, or any one of a thousand similarly awful things. Further reading unearthed a spell to induce the birth of a child, and he almost leaped to his feet and yelled 'Eureka!', until he spotted a footnote saying that on no account should this spell be cast on any woman who was less than two weeks pregnant, as massive internal bleeding was likely to result.

He continued through the book, reading and re-reading chapters he thought most likely to contain useful spells, until he was interrupted by a cry from upstairs. He leaped to his feet and dashed up the stairs. How long had he been reading the spell book? Forty minutes? An hour? Was the gestation period so short?

Alison had thrown off the duvet and was staring in horror at her distended abdomen. "You bastard!" she yelled. "How could you let this happen to me?"

"I'm sorry!" Michael cried. "It took me by surprise. I've been reading the spell book and…"

"Ow … oowwwww! It's coming! Get a knife for God's sake!"

Michael ran downstairs to the kitchen while Alison struggled to get her panties off. By the time Michael returned, the poo-baby was already emerging. With an audible 'pop', it slithered out of Alison's vagina and on to the bed. Michael stared at it in fascinated horror.

"Don't just stand there - kill it!" screamed Alison at him. Visions of the creature escaping and growing seven feet tall flashed through her mind and her heart raced in panic. "Kill it!"

Michael grabbed the baby's head and slashed with his knife. It cut through an inch of poo-flesh, then met resistance. Sawing back and forth, he carved through the obstacle and, a second later, the head fell off entirely. "Yes!" he cried exultantly. "Got you, you bastard!"

"Never mind that - just get rid of it!" ordered Alison anxiously, though she was quite relieved to see the creature beheaded.

Michael nodded and carried both head and body through to the bathroom, where he hacked them up and flushed the bits in three batches. Then, while he was washing his hands, a thought occurred to him and he returned to Alison's bedroom.

"You're probably due to poo again pretty soon," he said. "I think you should go and sit on the toilet. Then, when it comes out, it will fall into the water and you can flush straight away."

"Good idea." Alison got out of bed and hobbled through to the bathroom. "Did you find anything useful in the spell book?"

"Not yet," admitted Michael. "But I'm still looking."

"Well I hope you find something pretty quick," said Alison, "because it really sucks to have to shit every hour. And it's not even as if I ever get any warning - it just shoots out of me."

"Yeah, I noticed," agreed Michael.

"What?"

"Uhh … oh, nothing, I meant I had figured as much, since you obviously didn't have time to get to the bathroom."

She stared at him suspiciously, but decided to let it lie and carried on into the bathroom. She shut the door behind her, then on a sudden impulse locked it. Had Michael watched her defecate while she was insensible? If so, why had he not stopped the poo entering her? It was a little alarming.

She pulled down her panties and sat down on the toilet. Her poo did not feel ready to come out just yet, but it would probably not be long. So she waited. And waited. And then she screamed as she felt herself grasped around the waist and pulled downwards hard. Her bottom fell into the bowl and the edge of the toilet seat scraped up her backbone. Looking down, she saw with horror that a long tentacle, made apparently out of poo, had encircled her waist and seemed to be attempting to pull her bottom-first down the U-bend. This was not about to happen, obviously, but although she struggled mightily, she was unable to pull herself out.

"What's up? What's wrong?" asked Michael from the other side of the bathroom door.

"A … bloody tentacle's got hold of me!" shouted Alison. "I can't reach the lock - you'll have to break the door down. Ouch!"

The last exclamation was on account of the sudden insertion of a thick, pole-like object into her vagina. She could not see what it was, but she felt sick as it began to thrust itself in and out of her cunt.

With a loud THUMP, the door burst open and Michael entered. He looked startled as he saw Alison's predicament, but he quickly grabbed her by both hands and began to pull.

"Not like that, you idiot!" she yelled at him. "Do you want to pull my arms off? Get the knife and cut the tentacle!"

"Oh." Michael nodded and disappeared.

"HURRY!" she screamed after him as the object thrusting inside her cunt began to pound into her faster.

Michael returned with the knife and, kneeling down next to Alison, he started sawing at the tentacle. Alison planted her hands on the seat either side of her and pushed hard, ready to pop out of the bowl like a champagne cork when the tentacle was finally cut through.

And then the job was done. The tentacle fell limp and Alison hauled herself out of the toilet bowl, falling forward face-down on the floor. Yet the object in her cunt stayed inside her, and as she looked back she saw it was another tentacle, which stretched all the way from her vagina to the bowl and on round the U-bend and who knew how much further beyond? At that moment she felt her insides being flooded with warm liquid which, as it seeped out of her cunt around the tentacle, turned out to be diarrhoea. She yanked the tentacle out of her vagina, noticing with disgust that its dribbling tip was bulbous and penis-like. It withdrew quickly, snaking back into the toilet and vanishing out of sight.

"Whew, thank goodness that's over!" exclaimed Michael.

"It's not over you idiot," muttered Alison. "I'm fucking pregnant again, aren't I?

"You are?" Michael was puzzled. "But…"

"Trust me on this," said Alison. "In an hour my belly will be as big as a bus, and you'd better be ready with that knife 'cause there will be plenty of babies to deal with this time."

"Oh great!" Michael threw up his hands in despair. "How the fuck did this happen? Where the hell did those tentacles come from? Was it the baby we flushed? I thought once I chopped it up, that would be it!"

"It wasn't the baby," sighed Alison. "I think it was probably the adults down in the sewers."

"What? What adults? What??" Michael was bewildered.

So Alison related the entire horrible story of what had happened to her, how she had been held captive by an ever-increasing horde of seven-foot-tall poo monsters who had repeatedly raped her and impregnated her, how she had spent most of her ordeal actually giving birth to the foul creatures, and how they had pursued her to the sewers, where they had held her captive in a pitch-black nightmare for half a day before the sounds of approaching policemen and the flashing of many torches had caused her captors to panic and flee.

"There are at least a hundred down there now," she said. "Of course I couldn't tell the police about them - they'd have thought I was mad."

"Good grief Ali," said Michael, banging his head softly against the wall. "You really screwed up with that spell book, didn't you?"

"Yeah, whatever." Alison waved her hand dismissively. "What matters now is that you find a cure for me within the next hour."

"I'll try," said Michael, sighing heavily. His hopes were not high. "In the meantime, you'd better squat over the bath or something, unless you've shit already. Give me a shout when you've done something and I'll come and give you a hand with it."

Alison nodded. "Okay," she said and once Michael had left the room she pulled down her panties and sat on the edge of the bath, with her anus overhanging the side by a couple of inches. Anything that suddenly came out of her now would fall into the bottom of the bath and would not easily be able to find her cunt.

Soon enough, it happened. A long, softish poo slithered out of her anus and dropped into the bath, and Alison quickly got to her feet and pulled up her panties. She considered calling Michael, but decided she could probably deal with this herself. She looked down into the bath, where a sixteen-inch-long turd was writhing and wriggling its way along the floor of the tub. It locomoted clumsily at first, then it abruptly changed its tactics and began to stretch out its front end, almost doubling its length, before bringing up its rear in a contractile motion. In short, it was moving rather like an earthworm. Screwing up her face in distaste, Alison reached down and picked it up. It writhed frantically in her grip as she carried it to the toilet, but failed to escape before she dropped it into the centre of the bowl. With her other hand she flushed, and water deluged the hapless poo.

But it was not going down without a fight. Bracing itself against the ceramic sides of the bowl, the tenacious turd valiantly maintained both its integrity and its position despite the torrential onslaught. Only when it sustained a violent blow from a loo brush wielded determinedly by Alison did it finally succumb and begin its journey down into the sewers.

Alison washed her hands thoroughly and returned to bed, hoping that her brother would find some way of stopping her pregnancy before she was due to give birth. Despite her worries, her weariness was great, and she fell into a deep sleep fairly quickly.

An hour later, she woke up with her first contraction. Her heart sank as she felt her belly - it was enormous. To describe it as a 'beach ball' did not do it justice. "Michael!" she yelled.

He came bounding up the stairs. "Sorry," he said, "I think I've found a spell worth trying but I was just figuring out if … oh my God!" He stopped in his tracks and stared at her mountainous bulge.

"Get the knife! Hurry - I'm distending already."

"Let's get you through to the bathroom - it'll be better if you can give birth into the bath."

"Yeah sure, except I can't bloody move like this," retorted Alison.

"Sure you can. I'll help you." Michael walked over to her and tried to help her up.

"Oww, no stop it! The first one's coming out, I can feel it. Get my knickers off, could you?"

This was an invitation Michael would never in a million years have expected from his sister, but he obliged nonetheless. Alison spread her legs apart and began to push, as a vile brown head began to emerge from her over-stretched vagina.

Michael picked up the knife, which was lying on the bedside table, and immediately hacked at the revolting infant. It attempted to defend itself, but soon Michael had decapitated it. By this time another baby was well on its way, and Michael despatched it in similar fashion. The third, however, proved more difficult. For some reason, this one was equipped not only with limbs but with tentacles which protruded from the baby's chest. These tentacles proved surprisingly strong, and Michael struggled with the infant for two or three minutes while it tried to wrestle the knife out of his hand. By the time he had successfully beheaded it, the next baby had been born and was in the process of running out of the room.

"Oh no you don't!" cried Michael, and he leaped after it. The little creature was agile, though, and when Michael reached the top of the stairs the baby was already halfway down. Here Michael hesitated. He did not dare let the creature go, for fear it should hide out somewhere and turn into a seven-foot adult. On the other hand, the more time he spent on this one, the more babies would be emerging from his sister's womb.

He who hesitates is lost, he told himself, and dashed downstairs after the poo-baby. It disappeared into the living room and Michael followed it in, closing the door behind him. He glimpsed the runaway scampering behind the sofa, which annoyed him because the sofa had a couple of upside-down armchairs sitting on top of it. He pulled the armchairs off as quickly as he could (they were a fair weight) and pulled the sofa away from the wall, revealing the hiding baby.

Lunging forward, Michael grabbed at the creature but it darted out of his way. It then proceeded to lead him a merry dance around the furniture until Michael began to grow very concerned at the thought of how many more babies would be waiting for him upstairs. Should he cut his losses and abandon the chase? Possibly. But then, all he needed was to close his hand around the little bastard's arm…

Finally he got hold of it and deftly lopped its head off. Then he ran to the door and flung it open, running through into the hall and charging up the stairs three at a time. When he entered Alison's bedroom, he was astonished to see that she had been stripped naked, and her wrists and ankles were tied to the four corners of the bed. Two poo-babies were lying across her chest, each suckling on a nipple, while a third was in the process of being born.

"Get them off me, Mike!" wailed Alison.

Michael hurried in, and the two babies quickly climbed off Alison and jumped down on the other side of the bed. Michael tackled the newly emerging baby first, only to find that it, too, was in the possession of tentacles that it already knew how to use. During the brief struggle that followed, the two other babies escaped out of the door.

"Cut me loose!" exclaimed Alison.

"I'll be right back," said Michael. "I just have to get those two before they hole up somewhere I can't get to them."

"Just face it, you're fighting a losing battle here," Alison told him. "Just try to hold them off until I've finished giving birth, and then let's get out of this house!"

"Oh Ali, that's a bit drastic. Just wait there - I'll be back in a jiffy."

The two escapees were well ahead of Michael, but fortunately had left brown footprints that he was able to follow without difficulty. He was perplexed, however, when they led into the living room, despite the fact that the living room door was closed. He turned the handle and pushed, then frowned as the door failed to budge. He leaned his shoulder into it and heaved, and it gave a little, then stuck fast. Shoving even harder, he managed to shift it a bit more. The little bastards had obviously barricaded the door with some of the furniture in there. Their strength surprised him greatly.

However, their barricade was not enough to keep him out. After a few more hard shoves, Michael had finally got the door wide enough open for him to get inside. He squeezed past the armchair that had been braced against the door, and spotted one of the brats immediately. It was standing by the open door of the video cabinet, and it held a videotape in each hand. As he approached, the little creature hurled first one, then the other at him. He avoided the first, but the other struck him in the hip.

"Hey!" he exclaimed, annoyed, and he ran to grab hold of the infant. It hurled another tape at him and then began backing away slowly, stopping when it reached the wall.

Then Michael felt a sharp crack on the back of his head, and he whirled around in dizzy surprise. The other infant was there, on the far side of the room, holding a stack of place-mats in its hand. It had just hurled one of these, Frisbee-like, at Michael's head, and it was preparing to repeat the performance. Michael prepared to duck as he advanced towards the creature, and then he howled with pain and anger as the corner of a videotape struck him, again in the back of the head. As he clutched at his head with his left hand, he began to be bombarded with missiles hurled with surprising accuracy. His knife was knocked out of his hand and as he went to retrieve it, the corner of a videotape hit the edge of his eye. Sparks flew in his vision, and he slapped a hand to his face as he stumbled towards the door.

He managed to get out into the hall without further injury, and he closed the door behind him. Taking a deep breath, he tried to come to a quick decision. The horrible little poo creatures were tougher than he had expected. Maybe he could use something as a shield… Then an idea came to him - the lid of his laundry basket would be perfect. He ran back upstairs and into the spare bedroom, where he grabbed the basket lid. As he ran back to the staircase, he glanced into his sister's room, where another poo baby was noisily sucking on Alison's nipples. Yet another was in the process of coming out.

He hesitated a moment, then decided he could probably quickly despatch at least one of these. He entered the room and made a grab for the emerging baby. The one sucking on Alison's breast jumped back and then ran past him, out of the room. Only then did Michael realise that he had no knife with him. No matter - he would just take this creature downstairs with him and behead it in the kitchen.

"Quick, untie me now!" exclaimed Alison, struggling against her bonds.

"I don't have time right now," said Michael. "I'll return in a couple of minutes with a knife - then I'll free you." He dashed from the room, but failed to notice a pile of poo at the top of the stairs until it was too late.

"Bugger!" he cried as his legs shot out from under him and he went flying.

"Ouch!" he complained as his head hit the top stair and bounced.

"Fuck!" he yelled as he tumbled end over end down the staircase.

He did not say anything when he landed at the bottom. He was unconscious.

"Michael?" called out Alison, concerned.

But Michael did not respond. And still Alison continued to give birth, and her progeny grew larger and larger. Half an hour later, the two poo monsters in the living room removed the barricade and ascended the stairs. They were both nearly five feet tall now, and were most anxious to meet their mother.

Alison had just given birth to the fourteenth and last in the brood, and was utterly exhausted. She felt a new poo slither out of her anus and quickly dive back into her cunt, and she shuddered in disgust. Then her two eldest 'sons' entered the room, and one of them climbed on top of her, its huge erect penis aiming directly for her vaginal orifice. Alison winced as it slid deep inside her, and closed her eyes as it began to thrust. She knew full well that this invasion was not just a vile rape; it was also a sentence of further torment - when the monster spurted its fertilising diarrhoea inside her, she would become pregnant with a dozen or so new embryonic poo creatures. What on Earth had happened to Michael?

The horrible creatures were climbing all over her. A baby's mouth was fastened to each of her nipples, and as one of the larger ones fucked her, the other was sliding its arm into her anus. She winced with pain, but it pushed its arm deeper and deeper until it was buried up to the shoulder. Just then the monster fucking her climaxed and flooded her vagina and womb with diarrhoea, which poured out when it withdrew its softening cock. The other monster now pulled its arm out of her anus and climbed on top of her to take its turn.

And so it continued. As each monster grew big enough, it screwed Alison while the rest of them caressed her body and played with her breasts and her anus and even her mouth. Some of them licked her face, and kissed her, pushing their poo-tongues into her mouth and down her throat. She threw up more than once, and her children delightedly smeared her vomit all over her breasts and torso. And all the while her belly grew bigger, and still Michael was nowhere to be seen.

Until, that is, he reappeared wielding a pair of garden shears. With a great SNAP, he chopped off the head of the monster that was screwing her at the time. By now most of the monsters were adult, and at seven feet tall were both bigger and stronger than he was. But despite their strength, the creatures were neither as bony nor as gristly as a human, and the shears made short work of both limbs and necks.

Michael advanced like the Angel of Death, scissoring the shears with devastating precision as the monsters fled in terror before it. He beheaded three before the rest made up their tiny minds to keep well out of his way. Soon his route to the bed was cleared. He deftly cut through the ropes binding his sister, and she climbed with some effort off the bed.

"Thank God," she muttered wearily. "Where the heck have you been?"

"I was knocked out," he replied shortly. "When I came to, I went out to the shed and found these. I figured they would work a treat."

"What's the plan?" asked Alison.

"We get in the car and drive to the hospital as quickly as we can."

"Okay." Alison grabbed her bathrobe and flung it on as she descended the stairs. The front door was wide open and she headed straight for it. Just as she reached it, however, she screamed as a seven-foot poo monster charged out of the kitchen towards her with its arms outstretched. She tried to run, but it grabbed the back of her robe and brought her up short. Thinking quickly, she slipped out of the robe and continued running, naked and poo-smeared, towards the car. Michael had left the passenger door unlocked and so she climbed in and locked the door. The frustrated monster began to pound on her window, but before it had a chance to break it, Michael had appeared with his shears. A great ugly brown head dropped to the ground, and the body of the beast crashed down after it.

Michael got into the car and started the engine, even as the car became surrounded by the monsters. He accelerated and knocked one of the creatures down, running over it and then turning sharply to head down the road. The monsters tried to run after the car, but it was useless - Michael and Alison had escaped.

Ten minutes later they were on the motorway, heading for the hospital through the semi-darkness of the August late evening. Alison had been obliged to push her seat back and recline it as much as possible - her belly had reached enormous proportions.

"Jeez, you look like you're about to explode," observed Michael, looking down at her in concern.

"Oh shit Michael - the first one's coming…" Alison lifted up her knees and spread her legs wide.

"Well I'm not stopping now," said Michael. "Try to hold it in for a bit longer."

"You idiot, I can't!" Alison began puffing. "Here it comes!"

A head appeared and, a few seconds later, a new baby had dropped on to the floor. It kicked its legs and waved its arms aimlessly for a few seconds, then it rolled over on to its front and got to its feet. Alison could not see it - her enormous belly was in the way, but she screwed up her face in disgust when it began to lick her clitoris.

"Can't you do something about that?" she complained to Michael.

"Not while I'm driving. Can you open your window and try to throw it out?"

"I would if I could reach it," she replied.

"Okay, I'll try," said Michael. He opened his window, then reached down and grabbed the infant. It wriggled in his grasp, but it was, as yet, too weak to cause him much trouble. He hurled it out of the window, then cursed as he realised it had grabbed hold of the top of the glass with one hand and was now hanging on for dear life as the wind buffeted it about.

"Hasta la vista, baby," he muttered as he wound the window back up. As the gap closed on the baby's fingers, there was a nasty squishing sound. But the creature did not fall. It was now holding on to the wing mirror with its other hand. With surprising agility, it swung itself up on to the bonnet and threw itself against the windscreen. Michael swerved about in an attempt to dislodge it, but this merely resulted in the creature sliding about and smearing poo all over the glass.

"Fuck!" exclaimed Michael, slamming on the brakes. He could not see a thing, and since he had been swerving so much he was now not sure in which direction the car was pointed. This soon became clear, as the car crossed the hard shoulder, bounced up on to the kerb and smashed into the crash barrier. 'Not again!' was Michael's last thought before he hit his head on the steering wheel and blacked out.

Alison, for her part, shot forward on impact, the backs of her thighs slamming into the dashboard and her bottom hitting the glove compartment before falling down on to the floor. These were nasty bruising injuries, but she broke no bones. However, she was now helpless. Wedged into the space in front of the passenger seat and unable to pull herself up from the floor on account of the great weight of her belly, she struggled feebly as another baby began to emerge.

The passenger door suddenly opened. Alison turned her head in hope, but her heart sank as she saw it was the infant that had caused the crash. It jumped in and began to suckle on Alison's breast, despite her attempts to dislodge it. But then it stiffened, as if listening.

Outside, though Alison could not see it, a car had drawn up behind the crashed vehicle. Its owner, a middle-aged man, had just got out of the driver's door and was making his way towards Michael's car to see if he could help, when the poo baby suddenly appeared and began running towards him. He squinted in the poor light, then recoiled in horror as the malodorous infant launched itself at him. His smart trousers became smeared with poo, and his flailing hand caught the side of the creature's head and was promptly plastered with further foul muck.

Beating a hasty retreat to his car, the man drove off with all haste. Satisfied, the excremental toddler ran back to the car to continue suckling from its mother. During the next twenty minutes, it had to fend off several other well-meaning Good Samaritans, by which time it had grown to almost four feet in height and had several allies.

Having given birth to yet another disgusting baby, Alison managed to summon up the strength to pull herself up on to her seat. She still had a few babies left inside her, but her belly was now only as large as an average nine-months-pregnant woman. She figured she could probably move a bit. And this was her plan - to escape while her offspring were still small. Beyond the crash barrier, she could see a tall mesh fence, and she thought she might be able to climb it. With any luck, her repulsive children would not be able to follow.

With all her strength, she pushed away the infants chewing on her nipples, dragged herself out of the car, stepped over the barrier and jogged towards the fence. Her offspring were having none of this and they gave immediate chase. Fear added strength to Alison's strides, and she reached the fence just ahead of her pursuers. The hard metal mesh was cruel to her fingers, but she forced herself to ignore the pain and began climbing as quickly as she could. She could feel a baby beginning to emerge from her vagina, but she did not stop to shake it free.

Messy brown hands and a couple of tentacles pawed and grabbed at her legs, grasping her ankles, trying to pull her down. But she shook them off and climbed out of their reach. At this point she became aware of an evil smell, one that had nothing to do with her horrible progeny or the filth covering her own body, though it was similar. Then it occurred to her that it was probably the local sewage works, which the motorway crossed over shortly before the turn-off that led to the hospital.

She reached the top of the fence and climbed over it, wincing as barbed wire poked her flesh in half a dozen places. The baby issuing from between her legs suddenly slithered out of her cunt and dropped ten feet on to the ground, where it landed with a wet splat. Alison descended as quickly as she could and stamped on its head, just to make sure it was dead.

Already some of her children on the other side were attempting to climb the fence. Alison decided not to wait around to see if they succeeded. She turned and began trotting down a short grassy slope towards a collection of large cylindrical shapes that were dimly illuminated by pale blue mercury vapour lamps. As she approached the nearest of these she began to hear tell-tale footsteps behind her, and panic rose in her breast like bile.

The gently-curving wall of the cylindrical edifice was mostly featureless, but Alison's eyes lit upon a ladder that rose vertically and continued to the top. She made for this and managed to climb out of reach of her offspring before any of them arrived at the ladder's base. As she climbed, another baby began to push its way through her birth canal, and before she arrived at the top of the ladder it had come out completely. It dropped like a stone, hitting (but not quite dislodging) the largest of her pursuers, which was rapidly ascending after her.

She arrived at the top of the ladder and found herself on a narrow walkway that ran around the rim of what she could now see was a vast tank full of evil-smelling sludge, within which unseen bacteria were working feverishly to break down the sewage. A huge stirring device, anchored in the middle of the tank, was lazily describing a full circle as it slowly but surely mixed the tank's contents. Alison carefully made her way around the walkway, pausing only when another baby (the last of this batch, she thought) began to emerge from her abused vagina.

She squatted and pushed, and the baby popped out of her without trouble. She picked it up and dispassionately threw it over the side of the tank. She did not hear it land. Now unencumbered by a huge belly, she hurried quickly around the walkway, mere yards ahead of her offspring. But as she reached the point on the tank directly opposite where she had climbed up the ladder, she realised that the ladder was the only way down from here. No convenient walkways linked to other tanks, and no other ladders were in evidence.

In despair, she realised she had no way of keeping away from her children now. But then she noticed that the poo monsters seemed to have lost interest in her, albeit temporarily. Lined up around the edge of the walkway, seven or eight of them were crouching down, putting their hands into the sludge, and eating what they brought out! Alison felt sick just watching them, but the creatures apparently found the stuff delicious.

Alison edged around the walkway cautiously. If the monsters could only remain preoccupied for a few moments more, she might be able to get to the ladder unmolested. Carefully, slowly, so as not to attract their attention, she continued to make her way around the rim of the tank, back towards the top of the ladder.

Approaching her goal brought her rather nearer to the creatures than she would have liked, and she was astonished by what she saw. The vile monsters were gobbling up the sludge as if they were starving, and their stomachs (if they had any) appeared to have no limitations. Indeed, those that had been feasting the longest had grown visibly larger even in the last couple of minutes.

A glance over the edge of the tank told Alison that all the creatures had climbed the ladder. She did a quick head count - there were ten monsters up here, eight on the far side of the ladder and two on her own side. This presented her with a dilemma: how was she to get past the two monsters nearest her? She opted for a slow, stealthy approach, since they were completely ignoring her. This would involve stepping over them, the thought of which she did not relish, but she plucked up her courage and stepped over the first, being very careful not to touch it.

So far so good. But as she lifted her foot to step over the second monster, it suddenly turned towards her and swiped at her with a heavy fist. Alison was knocked off the walkway and fell straight into the thick, evil-smelling sludge. She screamed in a wild panic, fearing she would be drowned in this sewage, and this was indeed a possibility. Fortunately she regained control of herself and resolved to treat the stuff as if it were quicksand. Already up to her neck in the muck, she paddled her arms and bicycled her legs until she had adopted an almost horizontal position. She now began to scull, swimming backwards towards the edge of the tank, but now on the other side of the monster who had knocked her in.

She had just about reached the side when she noticed the giant stirring arm making its way inexorably round the tank towards her. Slow-moving though it was, it would nevertheless reach her in a few seconds, and she dreaded to think what would happen if it hit her. She might be dragged tens of feet beneath the surface - it did not bear thinking about.

She forced herself to be calm, and when she reached the edge of the sludge she turned herself around and grabbed the walkway with both hands. Using all the strength she could muster, she hauled herself out of the sludge, covered from neck to toe in the stuff, and quickly made for the ladder. She reached it unchallenged, and hurriedly began to descend.

When she reached the ground, still no monsters were following her, and her hope returned. Even the sudden expulsion of a new sentient poo failed to dampen her spirits - she merely left it where it fell and hurried onward. Scaling the fence this time seemed tougher - maybe because there was less of a sense of urgency and she had time to think about how much it hurt - but when she finally reached the ground on the far side she felt a huge sense of relief. She climbed over the crash barrier and walked up to the car.

Michael had regained consciousness and was holding a blood-soaked handkerchief to his head. He looked up as Alison approached the open passenger door, and he smiled weakly.

"Thank goodness you're okay," he said. "I was worried."

"I'm fine," said Alison, "but how about you? You don't look so good - can you drive?"

"I'm not sure I dare," he replied. "I feel pretty groggy. Besides, I think the car's too fucked up."

"Great." Alison rolled her eyes. "So what do we do?"

"Wave down a car?" suggested Michael. You might want to clean yourself up first though - nobody will want you to get in their car looking like that."

Alison looked down at her naked body, every square inch of which was covered in sewage sludge. She wrinkled her nose up. "True," she admitted, "but how do I get clean?"

"If you go back up the road a little way," said Michael, "I think you'll find there's a grassy embankment on the other side of the crash barrier. Just roll around on the grass until you're reasonably clean. Don't take too long though."

Alison did as he suggested, and within a few minutes was, if not clean, at least reasonably free of sewage. With grass sticking to the remaining brown streaks and assorted sticky areas of skin, she sat up and looked across at the lights of the sewage works. Black shapes moved about in the darkness, and she shivered. Getting up, she hurried back to the car.

"Come on," she said to Michael, who was still in the car. "I don't want to stick around here any longer than necessary. The monsters are quite capable of coming back and climbing over the fence to get us."

"All right, all right." Michael climbed out of the car, feeling his limbs gingerly. He looked dubiously at the cars zooming past at sixty miles per hour or more. "See if you can flag something down."

Alison stood at the edge of the hard shoulder and waved to the approaching vehicles. After a couple of minutes, a small white van drove past and promptly pulled into the hard shoulder, slowing down as it did so. Then its reversing lights came on and it backed up towards Michael's car. Relieved, Alison began walking towards it, with Michael following after her.

"Good evening!" called the driver of the van, a middle-aged Indian man with a thick grey beard. "Are you people all right?"

"Yes thanks, but our car's had it," said Alison.

"My goodness!" The van driver noticed Alison's lack of attire for the first time. Then he noticed the smell. "What on Earth…?"

But his exclamations were interrupted, as a distant rumble as of rolling thunder swelled from barely perceptible beginnings to a volume that could not be ignored. Alison turned in fear, and her eyes confirmed her suspicions - the monsters were coming, and fast.

"Look at the size of them!" exclaimed Michael.

The van driver's eyes nearly popped out of his head. "Holy crap!" He turned and ran to his van, climbing behind the wheel and starting the engine.

"Hurry!" urged Michael, and he ran for the back of the van. Opening one of the doors, he ushered Alison inside, then jumped in after her just as the driver shifted into first gear and put his foot to the floor.

A giant of a poo monster crashed through the fence as if it were tissue paper. Alison guessed its height at around twenty-five feet, maybe more, and she frantically backed away towards the front of the van. Michael, meanwhile, tried to pull the door closed, but it was suddenly ripped away from him by a huge brown hand. Wrenched off its hinges, the door flew through the air and clattered to the ground a few yards away, while a procession of huge poo monsters, some of them waving long tentacles in the air, began charging after the accelerating van.

Cars screeched to a halt and began to pile up behind the monsters, leaving their way fairly clear, and although the van quickly got up to fifty miles per hour, the monsters continued to gain.

"Can't you go any faster?" demanded Michael of the driver.

"I'm getting there, I'm getting there!" responded the man frantically. "What the hell are those things?"

"They're giant creatures made out of poo," replied Alison.

"Hey, this is no joking matter!" snapped the driver.

"I'm not joking!"

As the car hit seventy, the creatures began to fall behind. "That's a relief," said Michael. "We appear to have found their speed limit."

"Okay," said the driver, "but this is my exit. I live not far away - where do you want me to drop you?"

"Can you take us to the hospital?" asked Alison.

"Sure, it's pretty nearly on my way," he replied.

The van pulled off at the exit and descended the slip road to a set of traffic lights which, as luck would have it, were on red. The driver stopped.

"Are you crazy?" asked Alison in concern. "Go! Never mind the lights."

"Well…" The driver dithered unhappily. "I'm sure they'll change in just a moment."

"Here they come!" reported Michael, looking out of the back.

"Okay I'm going!" The driver shot away from the lights, pulling out in front of a car which had to slam on its brakes to avoid a collision. It honked its horn at him angrily.

The nearest monsters drew closer and closer as the van negotiated narrow, winding, thirty-limit roads at speeds of up to sixty miles an hour. By the time they reached the hospital, the monsters were only a couple of hundred yards away. Michael and Alison piled out of the back, and the van took off with as much acceleration as it could muster.

Alison, still naked and poo-smeared, hurried into the hospital's main entrance, half-dragged by Michael who was trying to maintain a faster pace. Once inside, he let her go and ran up to the reception desk. "There's something really big and nasty coming this way," he told the receptionist, "and you can either wait until it gets here and all hell breaks loose, or you can get me a bottle of weak sugar solution as quickly as possible."

"I'm sorry sir, do you have a medical problem?" asked the receptionist sweetly.

"I don't have time for this crap," snapped Michael. "Where's Dr Singh?"

"He's at home right now," said the woman. "Now if you have a legitimate problem, then I will be able to help you, otherwise…"

"Otherwise this building is likely to be torn apart by an angry horde of creatures the like of which you've never seen!" hissed Michael. "Now, I need sugar solution! You must have a kitchen around here … a kettle, sugar, water … it's really not that hard…"

"They're coming!" said Alison, running up to Michael. "Quick, let's hide!"

"No, we have to finish this," said Michael determinedly.

There was an almighty crash and the sound of glass splintering as the sliding doors of the hospital entrance were battered down. Stooping low, the first of the poo giants entered the building, and panic immediately erupted as it got down on all fours and began crawling up the corridor towards the reception desk. The receptionist took one look at it and screamed.

"Now do you believe me?" demanded Michael. "Now will you please get some sugar solution?"

But the receptionist merely bolted from behind the desk and began to run down the corridor. Michael caught up with her and grabbed her arm. "Where's the kitchen?" he shouted at her.

She tried to pull away from him, then pointed wildly down a nearby corridor. Michael let her go and hurried in the direction she had indicated. Alison followed, as did the monster, which was making rapid progress despite its ungainly crawl. It lunged at her with one outstretched arm, and almost grabbed her, but she put on a burst of speed and just evaded it.

"In here!" said Michael, and darted into a room on the left-hand side of the corridor. Alison hurried in after him, and they closed the door behind them.

The room was, indeed, a kitchen. Feverishly Michael filled up the kettle and switched it on. Then he rummaged in the cupboard for sugar, which he soon found in a large coffee tin. He poured a little of it into a saucepan, then stood over the kettle, willing it to boil faster.

There was an almighty bang on the door. Then another, and another. A split appeared, and splinters flew. Then a mighty fist pounded through, and in another few seconds the door was matchwood. A grinning brown face appeared, and then a hand darted in, aiming straight for Alison.

She did not even have time to dodge, and she screamed as she was pulled bodily out of the room. "Hurry Mike!" she yelled at her brother.

In the corridor, the monster victoriously held aloft its trophy. Rolling over on to its back, it lowered Alison on to its giant erect penis, holding her legs apart with its fingers. Alison closed her eyes in disgust and tried desperately to close her legs, but it was futile. The vile smell of the creature assaulted her nostrils and the feeling of its squishy hand around her torso was revolting. Her breasts sank deep into its excremental flesh, and as her pussy met the tip of its giant cock it was quickly coated in mushy poo.

But that was all. The massive penis was far too big to fit inside her, and the creature soon realised this, much to its frustration. After a few failed attempts, it gave up and instead began rubbing Alison's body all over its erection. Alison was soon covered in poo again, and although she tried to keep her face clean, she found herself spitting poo and blowing it out of her nostrils every few seconds.

More monsters had by now arrived. One crawled alongside the first and tried to grab Alison away from its sibling. But the first monster slapped the other's hand away and rolled over on to its front, raising itself up on to its hands and knees again. Alison found herself squeezed until she lost her breath, but then the pressure eased up as her captor began to crawl away.

Yet it found itself under attack from its brothers, who apparently wanted Alison for themselves. Unable to defend itself properly while holding Alison in one hand, the monster devised a new tactic. Alison found herself lifted up and around to behind the creature's titanic backside, and then she gasped in horror as she found herself guided feet-first towards its puckered brown anus. Just before she reached it, the orifice dilated slightly and a rush of dark brown, evil-smelling sludge poured out, dribbling down the creature's leg and forming a pool on the floor. Then, with a short push, Alison found herself thrust into the monster's anus. Her legs disappeared up to mid-thigh, and then the monster adjusted its grip, pinning her arms to her sides as it pushed her further in. Waist-deep she went, then chest-deep and finally her breasts slid inside and she was buried neck-deep in the creature's rectum.

"Michael!" she screamed at the top of her voice. "Hurry up and get me out of here!"

Vile fluids swirled about her naked body as she writhed ineffectually inside the bowels of the giant poo monster, which now attempted to escape with its prize. Crawling rapidly down the hospital corridor, it tried, with mounting difficulty, to fend off increasing numbers of its brethren. Eventually it succumbed, the others throwing themselves atop him. In the cramped corridor, this soon caused a blockage, and the poo monsters suddenly found themselves trapped in a tight place.

And this is how Michael found them, wedged into practically a solid lump. Clutching a pan filled with sugar solution, he advanced towards the creatures determinedly. Then he spotted Alison, or rather her head, protruding from the anus of one of the creatures. His eyes widened.

"Alison, what on Earth are you doing in there?" he asked.

"Oh just admiring the view, you know," she replied. "What do you think I'm doing? Help me, damnit!"

Michael ran up to her and grasped her head. But as he began to pull, she yelled in pain. "Ouch Michael, are you trying to pull my head off?"

"Well how else am I going to get you out of there?" he demanded.

"I don't know - what spells have you got memorised?"

"Precious few," Michael admitted. "Mainly ones I've tried using on myself."

"Such as?" Alison prompted.

"Um, a spell to improve someone's eyesight…"

"A fat lot of good!" she remarked. "What else?"

"Um, a spell to increase someone's intelligence…"

"Oh yes, just what we want - intelligent poo monsters!"

"A spell to make someone physically stronger…"

"Even worse!" Alison sighed. "This is awful."

"And a spell to give someone understanding of foreign languages. I thought that one might be useful."

Alison frowned. "You want to teach them French?"

"No, silly! English."

"Oh." Alison thought for a moment. "You think they might listen to reason? Oh heck!"

Her exclamation was due to a sudden jerking movement from her captor, which was renewing its efforts to escape. These proved ineffectual, however, and it soon stopped.

"Hey wait - I think I remember a spell," said Alison suddenly. "It's the spell to loosen one's bowels. Hopefully it will get me out of this tight spot I'm in."

"I don't know…" began Michael dubiously.

"Well I think it's a great idea," said Alison firmly. "Pour the stuff on the floor and I'll dictate to you."

Shrugging his shoulders, Michael walked up as close as he dared to the nearest monster, and poured the sugar water on the floor. It spread out and seeped under the monster's body.

"Since they're all touching," said Michael, "this could well work for them all. But we'll see."

Alison recited the words of the anti-constipation spell, and Michael repeated them while touching the edge of the water with his hand. Then he stood back to await the spell's effects. For a minute or two, nothing seemed to happen. Then there was a gurgle from the nearest monster. This was followed by more gurgles, and rumbles, and wet farting sounds, and finally a veritable geyser of very dark brown, liquid poo erupted from the anus of the nearest monster.

Michael leaped hastily back, narrowly avoiding being sprayed with the stuff. But the dark diarrhoea continued to pour out unabated, and soon several of the monsters were defecating in similarly spectacular style. Alison could feel the pressure building up around her body, and she wriggled as hard as she could, trying to break free.

By now the floor was awash, ankle-deep in diarrhoea, which quickly spread down the corridor. Hospital staff, who had fled at the initial commotion and were now venturing back since it had quietened down, saw the oncoming tidal bore and ran for cover again. Michael retreated from the advancing flow, backing away down the corridor while staring in puzzlement at the diarrhoea itself. Were there fish jumping in there?

Of course what he was seeing was not fish, but little sentient chunks of poo that were slightly more solid than the surrounding runny stuff. There were hundreds of them, swimming about in the diarrhoea, looking desperately for a host…

Alison finally popped free of the monster's rectum and fell on her back with a splat in the middle of the pool of diarrhoea. It was now a foot deep and she actually submerged completely for a moment before she managed to sit up straight, spluttering and spitting and wiping diarrhoea from her face. Then she gasped in horror as she saw slimy long slug-like turds slithering over her breasts. She knocked them off in disgust, then realised that she was surrounded by them - the diarrhoea was seething with these revolting little creatures.

And then she felt one enter her cunt. It was so sudden, swift and smooth that she barely noticed it. But then it happened again, and again, and it occurred to her that it had probably happened at least a couple of times while she was preoccupied with wiping her face. She screamed and put a hand protectively between her legs, but this hardly seemed to matter - almost immediately she felt another poo-slug slide beneath her fingers and slip into her vagina. She screamed again and got to her feet as quickly as possible. Already her belly was beginning to bulge.

Several of the horrible creatures were clinging to her legs, and she began to knock them off one by one. But while she did so, a couple that had been sticking to her lower back quickly descended, slid between her buttocks, and slithered into her cunt. In a panic, she began to run towards Michael, but she almost immediately slipped and fell on her back again, with the result that another couple of slugs entered her. As she got to her feet, a slug that was crawling up her inner thigh made the same journey, and it was followed a second later by one that was clinging to her left buttock.

She rid herself off all the other slugs that she could find, and began to wade in a more sedate fashion towards Michael and the edge of the pool. By the time she reached her brother, another couple of slugs that had been ascending the backs of her legs unnoticed had entered her. She did not need to reach up inside her cunt to know that they had all buried themselves deep inside her womb.

Michael looked at his sister's belly with pity - it looked seven or eight months pregnant again. "Come on," he said. "Let's get out of here - those things look pretty immobile right now."

"What?" Alison was incredulous. "Hello!? It may have escaped your attention, Mike, but they've got me well and truly knocked up again. What am I supposed to do now? I can't go home - there are more of these creatures there. And we'll be back to square one in any case. Come on - we need to think of a plan to finish this once and for all."

Michael sighed. "I wish I could."

"Try your language spell - see if we can at least communicate with them."

"But I don't have any more sugar solution," Michael pointed out.

"Hey, you can make some more can't you?"

Michael looked down the corridor towards the kitchen door, which was now several inches deep in poo. He wrinkled his nose - he would have to paddle through fifteen feet of diarrhoea to get there. He handed the pan to Alison. "Be my guest," he said.

Alison rolled her eyes and walked back into the lake of poo. She entered the kitchen and quickly brushed off the slug-creatures that were already ascending her legs. A few minutes later she returned with the pan full of sugar solution. "Now what?" she asked.

"Now what indeed? There's no clear floor space on which to pour the solution - I can't really cast the spell with all this…" He broke off suddenly. "Uh-oh," he said, looking down the corridor.

Alison followed his gaze, and her jaw dropped. The nearest giant had succeeded in freeing itself from the mass of poo monster bodies, and it was crawling swiftly towards them.

"Now Mike, now!" exclaimed Alison.

Michael poured the sugar solution directly on to the floor in front of him, and gulped in fear. As the solution spread out, he kept to the near edge of the pool, crouching down to touch the water's edge. Then the moment came - the advancing monster put its own hand down in the centre of the pool. Michael quickly recited the spell from memory, and the monster suddenly stopped in its tracks, with an expression on its face that might almost be taken as puzzlement.

"Stay there, monster!" commanded Alison. "Stay!"

"Mama!" rumbled the monster in a deep bass voice. "Poo love mama!"

"I want you to stay right there, monster!" Alison continued. "Don't come any closer."

"Mama poo! Poo love mama! Poo give mama more poo!"

"Sheesh, this isn't going to help," muttered Michael. "He's got a one-track mind and he doesn't have the intelligence to change his tune."

Alison sighed. "All right then," she said. "Cast the other spell while you can."

Michael nodded, and quickly cast the intelligence spell. The effect on the monster's language was immediate.

"My goodness mother," it boomed, "you look just lovely! I wish I could have sex with you but, bugger it, my dick's just too big to fit inside you."

"Yes, I'm aware of that," replied Alison. "So do you think you and your friends could just leave me alone?"

"Oh we couldn't possibly do that," said the monster. "We think, therefore we fuck our mother. That's the way it goes. I notice you're pregnant again, by the way - the look suits you."

Alison looked down at her belly. It was growing almost visibly. She whimpered in fear. "But this is killing me!" she complained. "It's got to stop! This was all a horrible mistake, and I want it to end!"

"That's just not going to happen, I'm afraid," said the monster. "These brothers of mine will figure out soon enough how to get out of here, and they'll follow you wherever you go."

"Can't you help me?" Alison begged him. "Maybe we can make a deal or something."

"What kind of a deal?" the monster wanted to know.

Michael now spoke up. "Maybe I can make you smaller," he said. "Small enough for you to have sex with your mother again."

"Michael!" exclaimed Alison, shocked.

"Hush," he whispered to her.

"Hmm, I like the sound of that," said the monster. "Okay, what do you want me to do in return?"

"Help us kill your brothers, and get rid of all the other poo monsters that we can find."

"I see." The monster pondered this. "So you'll let me fuck my mother, in return for ensuring that I'm the only sentient poo that can do so?"

"That's the idea," confirmed Michael.

"Hmm, and what guarantee do I have that you'll keep your word?" asked the big poo.

Michael looked at Alison. "It's your call," he said.

Alison shook her head in disbelief. "You want me to submit to being regularly fucked by a poo monster in return for him killing all the rest of them?"

Michael nodded. "Yeah, I think that covers it."

Alison sighed and thought for a moment. "Okay," she said. "As long as he doesn't get me pregnant - he'll have to use condoms."

"I swear I'll use a condom every time," agreed the monster.

"In that case," said Alison, "I swear I'll let you fuck me … once a week."

The monster shook his head. "That's no good at all - I was made to fuck you. Fucking you is my raison d'etre. I need to come inside you at least seven times a day."

"Seven times a day!" echoed Alison in disbelief. "No way!"

"Perhaps we can compromise," interjected Michael diplomatically. "How about once a day?"

"No way!" repeated Alison.

"Not a chance," said the poo monster. "I could maybe, just maybe, get by on four fucks a day - but that's my limit."

Alison shook her head slowly. Then her shoulders slumped dejectedly. "All right - once a day."

"Four times," insisted the monster.

"Perhaps twice?" ventured Michael.

"All right, twice," conceded Alison.

"Twice just won't cut it," said the monster. "Four times, or I explain to my brothers just how to get out of the mess they're in, and I'll help them do with you whatever they want."

"Three times," said Michael, "and don't push your luck - remember we're offering you exclusive rights to Alison's body."

"Does the mother agree?" inquired the monster.

Alison shrugged her shoulders in defeat. "Okay, three times a day," she said.

"Then we have a deal," said the monster. "But I warn you - if you try to trick me, then I swear I will raise an army of my brothers to rise against you."

"I understand," said Michael. "So what's your plan?"

"And what's your name? What do we call you?" inquired Alison.

"Name?" The monster seemed puzzled. "Well I suppose I don't have one. You had better name me."

"Okay, we'll call you Derek," said Alison.

"Derek the Poo?" asked Michael with an expression of faint distaste.

"I like the name!" Alison responded defensively.

"I shall begin by breaking the necks of my brothers," said Derek dispassionately. "It will take a few minutes - I suggest you find your way out of the building and meet me around the front."

"Okay, see you later then," agreed Michael, and he took his sister by the arm, leading her down the corridor. "With any luck," he whispered to her, "the police will be out there waiting for us … and him."

Alison said nothing, but the mention of police made her suddenly feel very naked and exposed. What if the press were there too? She took her brother's hand and followed him as he sought out Exit signs. Within a few minutes, they were emerging into the open air, and they quickly made their way around to the front.

A single police car was outside, along with a crowd of people, many of them hospital staff. Alison and Michael hung back - they did not particularly want to attract attention to themselves. But then a deep roar sounded from within the hospital, and Derek emerged like a rampaging King Kong. Screams erupted and the crowd scattered. Derek stood up and scanned the ground for his mother and uncle. Alison began to retreat around the corner in fear, but apparently the poo monster had sharp eyes. A couple of steps brought him to where they were standing, and he picked them up bodily, one in each hand. Then he ran out of the forecourt and on to the road, where he began to retrace his steps back towards the motorway.

"I can get us back to where I was born," he said. "You'll have to direct me from there."

Michael and Alison were much too terrified and breathless to answer. The speed of the monster was dizzying - they were used to travelling at sixty miles per hour in a car, but this was a completely different matter. The ground rushed past them with an uneven, bouncing motion that made both humans physically sick. Cars, meanwhile, honked and crashed around them, causing havoc on both sides of the road. Oblivious to all this, Derek pounded his way towards the motorway, headed up the slip road (the wrong way), then charged down the hard shoulder at a pace that he apparently could keep up almost indefinitely.

Once they reached the spot where Michael's car was crashed, the monster stopped and, once he had got his breath back, Michael instructed him on where to go next. And so the journey continued, while Alison's belly grew to an unprecedented size. By the time they reached Michael's house, she still had not given birth.

The house was empty of poo monsters. Where they had gone, Alison could not even guess, but a trail of poo led down the road as far as the eye could see. Since Derek was unable to enter the house, Michael hurriedly prepared a sugar solution while his sister collapsed on the living room floor under the weight of her own belly.

Once the sugar solution was ready, Michael pored through his spell book looking for a suitable incantation. His eyes lit upon the compaction spell he had once suggested trying on Karen Montague's oversized breasts. The spell allowed for parameters, so that he could specify, with a small change to the wording of the incantation, the amount by which Derek's size would be reduced. Rushing outside, he prepared a rough circle for Derek to stand inside, and then he cast the spell.

Derek rapidly shrank down from twenty-five feet tall to a mere eight feet. Michael considered casting the spell again to shrink him to a more reasonable six feet, and explained this plan to Derek. But then police sirens sounded in the distance.

"They're coming this way," observed Derek. "This will have to do. Let us get inside."

Michael and Derek hurried into the house, where they found Alison in the process of giving birth on the floor of the living room. With reluctant fascination, Michael watched as Alison's vagina dilated to a huge width, and a brown object began to force its way out.

Derek kneeled down between Alison's legs. "I suppose you want me to kill this thing when it comes out?" he asked.

"Yes please!" hissed Alison between puffs.

A little brown poo-baby slithered out of her vagina, and Derek picked it up. He sighed. "Such a beautiful baby," he said. "What a shame." He broke its neck.

The doorbell rang. "That'll be the police, I suspect," said Michael. "I'll try to get rid of them."

He answered the door and smiled as he recognised DCs Barnett and Evans.

"Good evening sir," said Barnett. "Had a repetition of the other day's incident, have we?" He indicated the trail of poo leading from the house out to the road and beyond.

"Apparently so," agreed Michael. "Just after you left my sister took a nasty turn and I drove her back to the hospital. When we got back, a few minutes ago, we found this mess all over the place. Have you made any progress in discovering the cause?"

"Uh, no sir, not as yet. We were hoping you could help us, actually. You say you drove to the hospital?"

"That's right, yes," Michael confirmed.

"And then you drove back?"

"Actually no, we got a lift back. Unfortunately I crashed the car on the motorway. I was about to ring my breakdown service."

Barnett looked most unsatisfied. "And you didn't see anything around here, either before you left or after you got back?"

"No, nothing I'm afraid," confessed Michael.

"Hmm. Well, if you do see anything, give us a call won't you?"

"Of course," said Michael.

"Goodnight then sir."

The constables left, and Michael closed the front door, much relieved. He returned to the living room, where Derek was calmly despatching another poo-baby. The monster's casual strength was impressive. Though Michael did not know it, the compaction spell had reduced Derek's size, but not his weight or his strength - the monster was now far more dense, and therefore tougher, than ever.

Half an hour later, when Alison had finished giving birth and all the babies had been killed, Derek took the bodies upstairs to flush them, bit by bit, down the toilet. Alison, meanwhile, exhausted from her ordeal, took a shower and went to bed in Michael's room (her own bed was covered in poo. She fell fast asleep almost immediately, and the poo that soon afterwards slid out of her anus was able to enter her vagina without trouble.

Michael knew he had a lot of work to do around the house, but he, too, was worn out from the evening's events. He switched on the television and sat down on the sofa to channel-surf. Derek selected a chair and also began watching.

"This is intriguing," the poo monster observed. "What a fascinating insight into your culture!"

Michael chuckled. "This is the low end," he said. "Early evening television is much better."

"Is it? I shall look forward to watching television tomorrow, then," said Derek.

Michael frowned slightly. "So, are you planning just to live here then?" he asked.

"Why not? Since Alison is still producing offspring regularly, and since I am entitled to three fucks a day, what would be the point in my leaving? Remember that each time I enter or leave the house, I run the risk of somebody seeing me."

"Good point," admitted Michael. "Very well. Perhaps you could hang out in the loft, then? It's just that wherever you walk, you leave these horrid messy footprints, and sooner or later I'm going to have to clean this house, and keep it clean."

"Ah." Derek nodded. "Well perhaps you could get me some shoes?"

Michael saw the logic in this. "Good idea," he said. "What size do you take?"

"I've no idea," replied Derek. "You'd better measure my feet."

Michael fetched a ruler and measured Derek's feet, making a mental note of the size so he could go out to buy shoes the following day. He was not at all sure whether he would be able to find any large enough, but he could at least try.

"Well," he said, "I'm going to bed. Keep an eye on Alison for me, would you? I'd hate to wake up tomorrow to find more monsters running around the place."

"Don't you worry," Derek reassured him. "I shall keep my end of the bargain. But first thing tomorrow morning, I'm going to insist on my first fuck."

"Fair enough," agreed Michael. "Goodnight then." He climbed the stairs, stripped, took a shower, then climbed into bed next to his sister. Within minutes he, too, was fast asleep.

The following morning he was awakened by the sound of the door opening. He was vaguely aware of having been woken up several times during the night by the sound of Alison giving birth, and of Derek coming in to despatch newborn poo-babies. But despite these interruptions he had slept reasonably well. He opened his eyes and blinked a few times, then stared in surprise at Derek, who had just entered the room.

The poo monster was carrying a tray, upon which were set two breakfast bowls and a couple of tea cups on saucers. Astonished, Michael pulled himself up into a sitting position and allowed Derek to place the tray on his lap. Meanwhile, Alison was stirring, and once she had rubbed her eyes she, too, stared in surprise at the tray. The bowls were both full of cornflakes, swimming in milk.

"I wasn't sure whether either of you took sugar in your tea," said Derek, "so I brought a little bowl of sugar just in case." He handed the bowl to Michael, who now noticed that Derek was wearing the rubber gloves he used to wash the dishes.

"Wow, Derek," he said, impressed. "This is great - how did you know what to prepare?"

"I've been up watching television all night," said Derek, "and I've absorbed a bit of your culture - I saw a show in which the characters had breakfast. Did I do all right?"

"Yes, it's brilliant," said Michael. "Thank you very much."

Alison looked rather disgusted at the thought of the monster serving her breakfast, but after a sharp nudge from Michael she smiled and thanked Derek. The two of them ate in silence, trying not to be too obvious about looking for traces of poo in their food, while Derek watched them intently. When they finished their cereal, he grinned a wide, brown, toothless grin.

"Can I have sex now?" he asked.

Alison groaned and tried to pull the covers over her head.

"Now now Alison, you did promise," Michael reminded her.

"Three times a day," added Derek.

"That's right," agreed Michael. "And the sooner you get it out of the way … um, the sooner it'll be over."

Alison sighed. "Well at least you can clear out of the room, Mike," she said. "I certainly don't need you here."

"Um, well I was thinking you could go into your own room to do it," said Michael. "That way only one bed will get messy."

Alison growled, but she could see the sense in this. She got out of bed, dressed, Michael noticed, in a t-shirt and nothing else, and followed Derek out of the room and into her own bedroom, where the bed was still caked in dry or drying poo. Taking off her t-shirt, she lay down on the bed on her back. "Let's get it over with," she said. "Do you have a condom?"

Derek responded by picking up a roll of clingfilm that he had placed on her bedside table. He tore off a length and wrapped it around his growing erection. "I could find no condoms in the house," he said. "This should do instead, will it not?"

"Um, I guess so," said Alison a little uncertainly. She spread her legs apart as Derek climbed on top of her, then closed her eyes as she felt the film-wrapped tip of his cock penetrate her vagina. She tried to imagine this was not happening, as he began to thrust into her while one of his hands kneaded her breasts, leaving streaks of poo all over her chest.

But when Derek tried to kiss her on the lips, she could not take it any more. "Stop that, no!" she shouted. "I promised to have sex with you, not kiss you!"

Derek looked annoyed, but said nothing and merely continued thrusting inside her. Minute after minute went by, and soon the screwing became not only unpleasant but also monotonous for Alison. "Aren't you finished yet?" she complained.

"No … sorry, my mind's on other things," confessed Derek. "One of the drawbacks of having my intelligence increased, I suppose. It might help if we tried a different position…"

Alison rolled her eyes. "What position?" she asked.

"Doggy style?" he requested hopefully.

"All right - well you'll have to pull out so I can turn over."

Derek withdrew, and noticed with alarm that the clingfilm had almost completely come off his cock - it was now little more than a bunched-up plastic rag draped over the end of his erection. He wondered whether he should try to put it back on the way it was, then reasoned that the same thing would only happen again. Alison, meanwhile, had not spotted this development, and she got on to her hands and knees so that Derek could enter her from behind.

And enter her he did, pushing the clingfilm deep into Alison's cunt, where it soon came off. This time the sex was better - it felt more exciting. Derek hammered his huge tool in and out of Alison's cunt, his passion building to ever-higher levels until he finally reached his orgasm. Plunging himself as deep into Alison's body as possible, he pumped spurt after spurt of diarrhoea directly into her womb. Pretty soon it had filled her up and was pouring out of her cunt around the sides of Derek's cock.

"Damnit Derek, I felt that!" exclaimed Alison. "You've fucking knocked me up again!"

"Oops sorry," said Derek apologetically. He withdrew, and liquid poo poured out of Alison's vagina. "Don't worry - in an hour I'll get rid of whatever comes out."

"That's not the point!" Alison growled in frustration. "That's it - no more sex for you until you get a proper condom - one that will work!"

"But where can I find such a thing?" asked Derek. "It is unsafe for me to leave the house."

"That's not my problem," said Alison with a shrug.

Derek got up and stomped through to the other bedroom, annoyed. "Michael!"

Michael was not in the bedroom, so Derek tried the study.

"Yes?" asked Michael, looking up from the computer where he sat reading his spell book.

"Alison's refusing to have sex again until I get proper condoms. You'll have to go out and get me some, as well as some shoes and some other clothes I guess. If you really want to clean this house you'll have to take steps to ensure I don't smear bits of myself all over it."

Michael sighed and put down his book. "Yeah, I guess that's sensible," he said. "Very well, I'll go out with Alison."

"That may not be a good idea - she's pregnant again."

"What??"

Derek shrugged. "My makeshift condom didn't work very well."

Michael threw off the covers and climbed out of bed, being careful to avoid the many messy footprints that Derek had left. He got dressed, said goodbye to Alison, and then left the house, leaving Derek to take care of his sister.

For the next half an hour, while Alison took a shower to clean herself off and try to empty as much diarrhoea out of her cunt as possible, Derek read carefully through the spell book, as well as the translation file on the computer, which Michael had rather carelessly left open. Finally he found what he was looking for, and he went downstairs to get things ready.

Alison's belly was getting pretty big by now. She dried herself and put on a large baggy t-shirt - there did not seem to be much point in wearing anything else. Then, as she was brushing her teeth, she heard Derek calling from downstairs. Puzzled, she spat, rinsed, then went downstairs, waddling somewhat on account of the weight she was carrying, to see what Derek wanted. "Where are you?" she called.

"In the kitchen," Derek replied. "I've come up with a new recipe I think you'll like."

Alison wrinkled her nose at the thought, but walked into the kitchen anyway, where Derek was standing with a pan in his hand. As soon as her bare feet stepped on to the linoleum, she realised the floor was wet and sticky, but the implications of this did not hit her until Derek began to recite an ancient incantation. In horror she jumped backwards, but it was too late.

Almost immediately she felt weak-kneed. Her face flushed as she stared at Derek. She had never realised how attractive he was before - how beautifully proportioned his muscular limbs were, how noble his face looked. She felt a surge of longing for him to take her into his arms, and to make love to her over and over again. She felt light-headed, as if she were about to faint. What an exquisite and handsome creature he was!

"Oh Derek!" she exclaimed, and rushed into his waiting arms.

Derek smiled and lifted her up. Tucking one arm behind her knees, he carried her out of the room and up the stairs to her bedroom. Laying her down gently on the bed, he took off her t-shirt, which Alison willingly allowed him to do. Smiling up at him, she spread her legs wide for him.

The monster climbed on top of her and entered her with a will. Thrusting hard inside her, he soon approached his climax, but instead of coming inside her he withdrew and aimed his seed over Alison's belly and breasts. Alison smiled and rubbed handfuls of diarrhoea on her nipples and plastered it over every inch of her enormous, curvaceous belly.

Then she moaned as a contraction hit. Arching her back, she grimaced as a new poo-baby began to force its way out. She pushed hard, and little by little the baby emerged. When it finally slithered out, Derek picked it up with a look of pride. He smacked its bottom and it let out a little cry. Then he showed it to Alison.

Alison smiled as she looked at it. How sweet - it had its father's nose. Its little eyes stared around blankly, then abruptly they focused on her. "Hello Mummy!" it said in a high, squeaky voice.

Alison almost dropped it in surprise. "It can speak?"

"Of course - he's my son, isn't he?" said Derek.

"I suppose so," replied Alison, and then she winced as another contraction hit.

"Do you mind if I suck on your nipple?" asked the baby.

"Um, go ahead," she said, and the baby fastened its mouth to her breast.

Over the next forty-five minutes Alison gave birth to seventeen babies - a new record for her. By the time she had finished she was exhausted. Meanwhile, Derek was very horny again, and he mounted her almost as soon as the last baby had come out.

Tired though she was, Alison happily wrapped her legs around her lover and sighed with pleasure as she felt his impregnating diarrhoea flood into her womb. By now, her first child, whom she had named Bobby, was almost as big as his Dad, and he was hopping excitedly from one foot to the other by the side of the bed.

"Mummy, can I fuck you too?" he asked.

"No, dear," said Alison firmly. She was determined that only her beautiful Derek should have sex with her.

"Oh don't be mean, honey," said Derek. "The poor lad is obviously desperate - you wouldn't want to hurt your own son by rejecting him would you?"

"No, of course not," said Alison, capitulating immediately. "Climb aboard, Bobby."

Bobby could barely contain his excitement as he mounted his mother, and he shot his load pretty quickly. After that, as each of the seventeen babies grew large enough, they all took a turn at screwing Alison. By the time they were finished, she was ready to give birth again.

"I can foresee a problem here," observed Derek as he fought his way through a crowd of his chattering offspring to reach the bed. "We'll need to leave this house or there will soon be standing room only. Any ideas where we could go?"

"There's a bunch of your less intellectually-gifted cousins in the city sewers," said Alison. "We could send our kids there. But I don't know how they would get there during daylight hours without attracting attention."

"Not they: we," corrected Derek. "We'll all go there tonight, after dark. But in the meantime, we must avoid getting you pregnant again."

"What?" Alison was rather alarmed by this. She loved Derek, but she had no desire to return to the sewer with him.

"How are you going to stop us impregnating Mummy?" asked Max, the third oldest of their sons. "Restrict us to anal sex only?"

"An excellent idea, Max," said Derek. "Just until tonight anyway."

"But I don't like anal sex!" whined Bobby. "It's icky!"

"That's just tough, Bobby," said Derek sternly. "From now on its anal sex only."

The clamour of bickering poo monsters completely drowned out the sound of the front door opening. Michael had returned from shopping, and he was most surprised to hear the animated conversations taking place in Alison's bedroom. Tiptoeing up the stairs, he quickly espied the crush of monsters through the open bedroom door. He quietly descended the stairs again, went back out to the car, then drove off on a very different quest.

When he returned, half an hour later, he was carrying a brand new chainsaw and a look of grim determination. Deal or no deal, he was going to finish this. The chainsaw was fuelled up and ready to go, and he knew how to use it. Quietly entering the house, he pulled the cord and the machine roared into life.

All conversation in Alison's bedroom ceased. Alison was in the process of giving birth to the eleventh son in her latest brood, and her surprise at hearing the strange sound caused her to pop the baby free with some force. Derek frowned, and squeezed his way through the crowd to leave the room. So he it was that Michael first met as he came up the stairs, ready to do battle.

"That looks nasty," said Derek. "Is it for me?"

"You cheated on the deal!" Michael accused him. "You said you'd get rid of all your offspring, and you haven't!"

"I changed the deal," replied Derek calmly. "Alison is in love with me now and doesn't mind keeping our kids."

"You're lying," said Michael. "You're mad if you think I'd believe that!"

"You should have hidden your spell book from me," said Derek. "I found a very nice Sexual Attraction spell, which worked like a charm on your sister."

And now Michael realised how stupid he had been to leave the computer on with the translation file still open. He should never have underestimated the intelligence of this disgusting creature.

"I did something else which might interest you," said Derek, walking deliberately down the stairs towards Michael.

Michael revved the chainsaw and waved it threateningly at Derek. "Come any closer," he said, "and I'll dismember you."

"Oh don't be so melodramatic," said Derek. "You can step back into the living room as I pass if you like - the thing I want to show you is in the kitchen."

Curious despite himself, Michael retreated into the living room and allowed Derek to pass. The poo monster walked into the kitchen, then turned when he reached the cooker.

"Come on in," said Derek.

Warily Michael advanced, still holding the chainsaw out in front of him. He walked into the kitchen, then stopped, waiting to see what Derek had to show him.

"Foolish human," remarked Derek, and he cast another spell.

Nothing happened.

"Think I'm stupid?" inquired Michael. He revved the chainsaw again. "You obviously didn't read the whole of the spell book - you must have missed the part about the casting of a spell requiring bare skin to be touching the floor."

"Bugger," said Derek.

Michael advanced, then swiped quickly with his chainsaw, slicing through Derek's neck. The poo monster's head tumbled to the floor, and his body toppled over, lifeless.

Staring down at the slain monster, Michael spat contemptuously. "Shit for brains," he muttered. Then he turned and ran up the stairs to Alison's bedroom. Swinging the chainsaw back and forth, he carved a swathe of destruction through the ranks of the monsters milling around his sister's bed. Limbs and heads flew this way and that, while Alison screamed at the sight of her children being destroyed. Within a minute, all the monsters were dead, right down to the smallest baby, which Alison had just given birth to. There were no more to come.

"Where's Derek?" asked Alison, sobbing.

"Dead," replied Michael. "Come on, pull yourself together - I have to cast a few spells on you to stop this horror."

He led Alison downstairs, then fetched the spell book and rifled through it in search of helpful spells. Over the next half hour he cast six spells on his sister, after which time he figured she was pretty much cured.

"Right," he said. "Go and have a shower, and then we'll work together to clear up all this mess."

Alison nodded. "Okay," she said. "But what are you going to do about the monsters in the sewers?"

"Um, I've no idea. But I suppose it's conceivable that they could still impregnate you by sending another tentacle up the U-bend." He thought for a moment. "I don't think there's anything I can do about that, unless I go down into the sewer with the chainsaw. But I don't really fancy my chances of getting them all - and if they managed to grab hold of me…" He shuddered.

"Never mind," said Alison with a sigh. "But perhaps you could accompany me to the toilet every time I go, and hack through any tentacle that appears?"

"I can do that," agreed Michael. "Good plan."

Alison went off to have her shower, then she put on some underwear, a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and a pair of shoes. For the first time in ages, it seemed, she was both clean and fully-clothed.

They gathered the bits of poo monsters into a succession of black dustbin liners, then put them outside in preparation for ferrying them to the tip. As they were putting out the last of the bags, Alison felt a soft poo suddenly slither out of her anus and into her panties. She stiffened in alarm.

"Michael!" she exclaimed. "A poo just came out of its own accord!"

Her brother's eyes widened in concern. "Is it moving?" he asked.

Alison paused. "No," she admitted. "But obviously your spells didn't fix everything."

Michael shrugged. "I did my best," he said, "but these spells tend to have side-effects, and sometimes the side-effects are as bad as the problem the spell was supposed to fix. You're just going to have to live with this one, I'm afraid."

"Terrific." Alison rolled her eyes. "What am I going to do when school starts?"

"I don't know - try to go to the loo after every lesson, I suppose."

Alison nodded. She hoped this tactic would work, but deep down she doubted it. "Come on then," she said with a sigh of resignation. "Let's go in and clean the house."

THE END
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