Sarah clicked her turn signal as she wove her usual route through the Meadow Heights district on the way to retrieve her daughter from gymnastics practice. The unassuming, red Chrysler minivan reflected the afternoon sun upon its placidly glistening surface, contrasting with the turmoil of the driver. There could be only one explanation: Jason was the only male in the house; Sarah's husband was the only possible culprit.
She furrowed her brow while brushing aside a stray whisp of her grey-tinged, auburn hair, patting back the neat bun her tresses were bound into. The disgruntled P.T.A. mom knew that she was hardly a supermodel, she did not match the beauty ideals of the consumer age, even if she were younger. Yet still, Jason hadn't given her even a hint of dissatisfaction. Just last night, their impassioned love-making had been as intense, as responsive as ever, perhaps even moreso than usual. But with no other males in the Suburban townhouse, the big-titted girly mags could not have come from any other source.
Had she been a fool? To think that mere love could compete with silicone-infused mammaries large enough for those ditzy blondes to wear as helmets? Well, the magazines were the extent of Jason's crimes so far; and....she shrugged. Some women thought it was no big deal. For some wives/girlfriends, it was acceptable for men to have a stash-- so long as nothing else came of it. Sarah chuckled cynically; with the secrets buried in her own past, certainly there was no call to---
"AHHNHH!!" A wave of fiery agony swept through her! "What the..." She examined herself, the jolt of pain felt as if her dress had ignited! But no, the same knee-length, conservatively cut, floral pattern with nary a bulge across her flat chest was there. Was that the reason for Jason's wandering eye? Were his genuine feelings being submerged beneath the irresistable male fixation on the female breast? Sarah's non-existent cleavage could not hope to hold the interest of a true Breast-man, was that the-
"URRHHH!!" The Pain! Again! A palpable aura of feverish heat flushed through her entire body with lightning intensity. Had Sarah been just a few years beyond her mid-forties age category, the explanation for hot flashes would have been obvious. And yet...while her body held little in the way of youthful vigor, she knew now what this was. It was no natural cycle of life, she'd known this sensation before, long ago.
The minivan lurched on the road as the jerking, tingling sensation assaulted Sarah's chest. Arching her spine, she grunted as the wave of painful pleasure swept over her; it was starting. The breast growth left no possible doubt. The tense thrusting of her suddenly erect nipples created visible tents in her dress. There was no bra, Sarah was not one of those women who felt she needed one to be truly female; her flat-chested figure did not require it.
But that meant that now, there was nothing to stop the rampant, ripening expansion of her breasts. As usual, the growth started first with a rapid burst of growth that propelled her bustline into a shape like small pancakes, barely an A-cup. But Sarah knew what was next, the searing waves of throbbing heat as burgeoning teats continued to enlarge. It had all happened before; and there was no escape!
But how much time did the blossoming housewife have? She examined herself carefully in the Van's rear-view mirror. Within moments, skin tightened, her eyes seemed to grow narrower, sharper, with a darkening around them, as if she'd been applying eyeshadow. But already, the crow's-feet that surrounded eyes and mouth smoothed out in less time than it took to say it. She was youthening more rapidly than normal. She might have been a woman in her late twenties by now!
But her hair, her hair was writhing inside the restraints that kept it in the tight bun, by now all traces of gray had vanished, and the auburn strands were shifting in color towards an orange-red. With a grunt, her breasts jiggled; having expanded past A-cups, the erect nipples soon lengthening into a strawberry shape, rounding and plumping into apple-like sizes. It was as if larger, sexier mammaries were forcing their way outwards through her chest; a fiery, erotic lava seemed to be pouring into her bosoms, enlarging as they sensitized, jiggling as juggs ripened from a mere orange size through and past the girth of grapefruits. Her growth slowed down only slightly as ample breasts reached a vast, fluid grandeur too large for her to hold in hand, breastflesh pressing against her forearms as she gripped the steering wheel.
No time now! She HAD to pull in! Struggling to focus on the road as her body became progressively younger, bustier, and hornier, the wetness from her heating cunt rapidly dampening her panties. Jerking the wheel, her minivan swerved into Save-N-Munch, searching out the most remote parking space available in the supermarket lot.
A strand of silken, blood-red hair fell over her eyes as she slithered into the backseat, pulling down the front of her dress, to try to minimize the damage down by her outsized orbs. There was no stopping it; the Compulsion was too powerful. She would have to resolve the situation as soon as possible, but she couldn't let the changes consume her!
"I...will not forget who I am!" Sarah declared, as her labia began to quiver with desire. "I am Sarah Evans Cox, I am a forty-five year-old wife and mother!" Yet the eerily smooth perfection of her seamlessly beautiful face could not have belonged to a woman over thirty. She wrapped her arms around her ribs, as the fiery waves of painful pleasure seared her skin, while quivering bosoms swelled upwards against the resistance of her arms, creamy valleys of raw tit pressing up against her elegant chin. "I am Sarah Evans COX! I WILL NOT FORGET!!" She insisted.
But when her fingers seemed to lengthen, when she felt a slicing sensation along her shoulder blades, she knew there were mere moments before-
"YAAAHAAAAAAAHHHH!" The burst of flames, sparks, and oily smoke would stain the minivan interior for weeks, but Sarah had other problems....
The combination of pain and pleasure confounded the senses, as they did with every summoning. But then, the Frenzy hit. Sarah felt a throbbing pulse of volcanic heat between the moist folds of her slippery cunt. Her lower lips bulged and swelled, a fiery craving radiating outward from her womanly core that would only grow more intense as the seconds passed.
Sarah rose up to her full height, stretching her toned, powerful muscles. There was a nervous quiver in her crotch, much like the sensation of a vast penis penetrating her, but only a brief, tantalizing taste. Her skin shivered with a sensation similar to that caused by a hard, hairy man pressing up against her naked frame. Her taller frame.
She now stood well over 6 feet tall, almost 10 or 11 inches over. Hers was a statuesque body with just enough toned muscle to convey the appearance of optimum physical health, yet the soft curvature of hips, thighs, and jutting breasts aroused the basest of male instincts.
Emitting a low snarl that resonated to menacing effect, Sarah stretched, and opened wide her red and black bat-like wings. Harsh shadows like sword-points raised in defiance spread across the smooth cement floor upon which the summoning circles had been inscribed.
Eyes that glowed with a blood-red malevolence within her hauntingly elegant face surveyed the cool, cement chamber. Nearly 150 feet in all directions were barren, cinderblock walls. Bare metal frames that looked like they might once have been bookcases were scattered in the northeast corner. A library no doubt.
"Dude! This crap is for real?!" exclaimed an uncultured voice from outside the tertiary warding circle, which was drawn with surprising skill; whoever summoned her this time had done their homework.
Her legs moved like coppery-skinned towers of feminine grace as she approached the boundaries of the summoning circle, her red tail swishing languidly between her powerful thighs. Not the silly, arrow-head devil's-tail men drew in myths, hers was flexible, but it ended in a point more like that of a scorpion. And she didn't have hooves, just blood-red, elongated claws on hands and feet.
The fierce horror of her hellish anatomy would strike fear into the hearts of the most resolute, yet the voluptuous splendour of her ample femininity triggered a fiery lust in men that warred with their original fright. Most often, the lust won. Smarter men down through the centuries had fled screaming into the night even as their pensises lengthened to full erection, to masturbate from afar.
"Esh' Ult-kra' athrah! Esh' Ult-kra' naka thok! Sarai'erothkok!" Rasped a thin, waifish Goth-girl with white face-paint, nipple rings revealed on her bare, pert breasts, clad in a nightmarish riot of leather belts and fish-net stockings. Candlelight played across her painted face as she strained to pronounce words in a forbidden language whose speakers had been exterminated for witchcraft in a primordial age before the Egyptians raised their Pyramids.
But more disturbing than the girl's fashion sense was the fact that she knew Sarah's Truename! Moist lips curved in a predatory smile, revealing sharpened teeth as Sarah spoke.
"I have familiarity with the Modern English Language, you may address me in this tongue." Her voice had a husky, feminine allure with a thundering undercurrent of diabolical menace that echoed throughout the library basement. Impressive; these humans were far more learned than the last bunch of bunglers. Sarah was becoming more interested. Her porcelein face appraised the mortals, the ethereal perfection of her face and form reflecting no trace of the aging features of the 40-something housewife.
Goth-girl nodded slightly, and repeated her earlier greeting, this time in modern english.
"We summon you in humility; We summon you with respect; Sarai'erothkok!" Began the sorcerous waif, her brown eyes wide with admiration and terror alike. "We apologize for summoning you away from your dark realm of fire and torment!" she added.
"If you only knew, Human."
**********
"Those narrow-minded cowards! The whole point of the test is because we don't know anything about it!" Dr. Linda Cartwright silently admonished. Her colleugues kept insisting that they needed more information on the cells, that her proposal was too invasive, too risky when the research team could determine nothing with certainty about the cells. But that was the idea! To learn enough finally to build some theories and write the reports!
The South Weddel Microbiological Research Initiative had isolated the ice-core samples nearly a month ago, long shafts of glacial frigidity chock-full of unusual cellular structures that had been on ice for eons. Possibly since the 'Snow-Ball Earth' ice-age nearly 700 million years ago, Dr. Cartwright surmised. And it was a rare and serendipitous shifting of the Antarctic glacial ice-sheets that revealed this unexplored layer, with cells unlike any yet known.
But the problem was, after weeks of experimentation, they had learned almost nothing definite. The cells were purple; they had structures that might contain an equivalent of chlorophyll, but....purple? Their architecture was baffling: The surface was festooned with tubules, injectors, and attachment points, much like what one would expect of a virus. Yet, the clearly delineated organelles made it clear that these were cells of a living, multi-cellular species. But what?
They'd done PCR, spectroscopy, chromatography, E.L.I.S.A and every sort of immunoprecipitation assay they could come up with, but no matches to any known species! The proteins that they isolated from the samples had no discernible function, and did not match any known protein families. It was in short, enough to make Linda a believer in UFO's! The samples matched nothing, at least nothing on Earth!
She loosened the clip that bound her mouse-brown hair and turned her hazel eyes towards a plasma screen tasked to a nearby scanning electron microscope. The computer display showed a perverse hode-podge of loops, whorls, and pointless twists and turns drawn in a single, purple line. Similar to an unfinished protein, yet the strange bodies inside the cells were not made of conventional amino acids, but rather Thymine? Outside the nucleus? It made no sense, but there it was, and that was the only molecule found that any molecular biologist could recognize.
If Linda's calculations were correct, (and they almost always were!) She could get a protein with demonstrable function if she could somehow form connections between these bizarre Thymine loops. And the only way to do that was by bombarding the sample with a burst of ultraviolet radiation. But the others! They wanted less invasive, more indirect tests first. After all, we don't know what we're dealing with. Linda made a pantomiming motion with her lips to mock the mantra repeated time and again by the Director, as he tried to moderate her enthusiasm. But she hadn't made it this far by being a shrinking violet; she had already resolved herself to take the initiative. And after this worked, and their names were all permanently ensconced in the pantheon of biologists, they'd probably try to take credit for what she was about to discover.....in about 30 seconds.
A small chip of glacial ice sat forlornly in the isolation chamber under the hazardous materials hood. And...yes, the bombardment had begun! The Thymine loops would form dimers, as the molecules linked with each other under the influence of the U.V. bombardment. Intently, Linda watched the computer monitors with baited breath.
"Now...once the Thymine dimers form, that should complete the Quaternary structure, and this should be a legitimate protein with real, testable function! Heh, probably named after me!" she chuckled. The process was completed even faster than she expected. "80...90% and....hold on....that can't be right!?" Linda exclaimed, as she poured over the digital data. The small ice chip, which had turned a deep purple, went unnoticed as Dr. Cartright double-checked the readings.
"These mass readings are way off! What could have gone wrong?" It was difficult to say what surprised her more; the implausible readings that flickered across the plasma screen monitors, or the glistening, purple and green-veined tentacle that crashed violently through the hazardous materials glass partition and thrust itself into her mouth and down her throat.
**********
"Dude...is she like... a succubus or something?" asks the spiky-haired, lackwit youth in a tie-dyed T-shirt. The fishnet-clad Goth girl snarled angrily, and turned on the boy.
"Fool! Her kind prefer to be called, Lilim. You must address the Great One properly if she is to grant us our boon!" explained the girl.
"You are correct, human. Succubi are myth; The Lilim are truth. The sex-demon sensuously walked along the line of the summoning circle that bound her, the red, flexible tail that sprouted above the curvature of her ass caressed her smooth, tall legs like a lover's kiss, as it approached her steamy-hot cunt. She knew the role well, and played her part admirably. "And what Boon would you dare to request from Sarai'erothkok, Mistress of Flame and Lust?" She almost chuckled, summoners expected you to add a few boastful nicknames. Goth-girl's eyes widened before she spoke, she was really getting into this.
"Oh puissant Mistress of Flame and Lust, this unworthy mortal would ask only a small, minor gift easily within your great powers. Before speaking of my own needs, I offer up what I hope to be suitable payment for your attentions." The girl's eyes glistened, hands trembled with excitement as she gestured to her left. In an ancillary circle connected to the other runes by intricate circuits drawn in what seemed to be chicken blood, there sat a somewhat pudgy college sophomore tied firmly to a chair. He wore a Sigma-Chi Letter shirt, and the redness of his eyes suggested great fatigue or mental impairment.
"For your payment, I offer the soul of this human, to be your plaything as you sit upon your burning throne of blood and sorrow!" Oooh! How poetic!
"Hey!" protested the proffered sacrifice. "Y-you ssaid...if I sat in th-this chair...I wuz gonna get laid!" he insisted. His speech impediment suggested severe intoxication, confirmed by the pungeant aroma of cheap whiskey.
"And so you shall, Fool! Do not speak again!" demanded the painted girl. Smiling sheepishly, she again regarded the imposing sex-demon. "In addition, my assistant promises one year of service if you will grant him a boon at the conclusion." Sarai'erothkok was growing impatient; she was already late to pick up her daughter from the high school, she had to move quicker in order to get back to her life. The Mistress of Flame and Lust also had a P.T.A. meeting at 6.
"Your wish?" she demanded in a harsh whisper filled with veiled menace. Goth-girl shuddered as she spoke.
"I wish to be....forever young and beautiful! I wish to appear as you do! And to never age! I would ask for beauty as you possess, that will never fade with age!" Years of longing trembled in the girl's voice as she spoke.
"Easily done, come forward and embrace your boon!" Unable to leave the circle, Sarai'erothkok had to lure the humans to her. With equal parts lust and trepidation, the waifish girl entered the central summoning circle. The Lilim laid a delicate hand over her nipples, and red eyes flared with power. With a burst of sparks and brimstone, every stitch of leather and fabric the girl wore disintegrated, leaving her naked before the bosomy embrace of the sultry demoness.
Female flesh pressed together, as Sarai'erothkok ravished the waifish girl in a perverse coupling born of hellish lusts. Overwhelmed and overawed by the daunting power and greater size of her illicit lover, the girl could do little more than twitter and squirm as the Lilim thrust her elongated tongue into her mouth. Clawed hands swished and poked at precise nerve centers and erogenous zones, engulging the girl in erotic sensation even as pliant, vast breasts engulfed the human's head.
Her mortal prey yelped in both pain and glee as the pointed tail neatly speared her cunt in a precise, perfect penetration. This was of course, the primary purpose of the Lilim's tail. The sharp, wicked implement could actually be manipulated to provoke spasms of erotic stimulation unavailable from a mere cock. And further more, the sharp tip contained a potent erototoxin that Sarai'erothkok was now injecting into the human, paralyzing her with delicious ecstasy for hours on end.
It began with a burst of blood-red light from the girl's own eyes, as her bones and flesh shifted, reformed, enlarged. Writhing against the terrible beauty of the demoness' feminine curves, the waifish girl grew and throbbed with hellish energy. All the while the tension, the stimulation assaulted her every sense with carnal cravings. Shuddering, the girl ground and thrust her hips against the barbed tail, as the pleasure of a dozen dildoes ravaged her mind and body.
"Oh no my pet; you will not climax until I wish it!" hissed the Lilim. Centuries ago, the hellish creature had mastered the sexual organs of both genders. For men, it was too easy; she had absolute control the moment a man dared to thrust his penis into her hot sex. But for women, she had needed a few decades to learn ways to manipulate her tail so that like males, females also were helpless before her. Lilim spent long hours practicing upon their own cunts in anticipation of the need to dominate a woman. She could do more tricks to a man with his penis inside her, but nonetheless, once her obscene tail penetrated a vagina, all hope was lost.
"Drink," ordered the Mistress of Flame and Lust, as a turgid nipple was thrust into the girl's face. The demon-breasts were wobbling mounds of unlikely buoyancy, with nipples perched high upon the erect globes, each easily the length of one of the goth-girl's college textbooks, and very nearly as wide as dinner plates, with no hint of sag. Perfect, impossible mammaries to tempt the unwary. Quivering with frustration, the human latched onto the pink nubs, and jets of sweet, hot milk drenched her throat. The demonic lactation was scaldingly hot! Very near the boiling point of water! Yet a perverse delight suffused the human even as she felt her tastebuds dying. A lurid slurp filled the air as the unwholesome suckling continued, the human burying her face into the vast bosom of the hellish harlot, relishing the hot steam that poured from her nose as the girl drank down the infernal milk.
The changes accelerated at a pace faster than the males could easily watch. Legs and thighs toned and expanded, a ripe ass filled out with plump femininity. Dark and slick hair fluffed and sprouted into a luxuriant mane of cascading flame, flowing down to the small of her back: just as it did on Sara'erothkok. The human disengaged from the spurting teat of the demon as she felt her own breasts filling out. She shimmied and shook her torso as waves of pleasure accompanied the jerking and throbbing expansion of her own previously unimpressive chest. Great swells of tit blossomed in the fleshy valley between the chests of the two females; the dominant boobs of the demoness were being rapidly challenged by the jiggling, thrusting advance of the enlarging mammaries of the human prey. In mere moments, the two matched. Pussy for Pussy, Breast for Breast.
"Beautiful....young...forever!" breathed the transformed girl; steam still flowing from her mouth and nose from her scalding meal of demon milk. Errant droplets from Sarah's nipples sizzled as they hit the cement. But now, now her human lover had been transformed into an exact, physical replica of the Lilim herself! She did not have the wings, tails, or claws; but in terms of human anatomy she was a precise match. Sarai'erothkok dug her wicked tail deeper into the vulnerable female flesh. As her lower lips clenched wetly against the red intruder; a sluice of female ejaculate heralded each terrific thrust.
"NOW, you may cum....forever...." hissed the demoness; as a solid wall of pure pleasure rose upward through the girl's body. With each second, it was as if a wave of ecstasy was rising higher and higher through her flesh; reaching pelvis, arms, breasts and head. Her last scream of long-awaited orgasm became a hollow echo as her flesh transmuted into pure, pristine white marble.
"She did want her beauty to last...forever! Now it shall." explained Sarah. "All too easy; mortals must be more careful in the phrasing of their wishes." There now stood an exact statue of the demoness, minus her extra anatomies, yet seemingly carved in the purest, finest marble. An obscene sculpture of a porn goddess in a moment of spine-tingling orgasm. And with the pressure created from the tail inside her sex, there was now a permanent opening between the folds of her frozen pussy; large enough for a cock perhaps. The Lilim wished she could be there when the owners of this Library discovered the perverse object the next day.
But like so many men, the young male assistant, found that he could run away. Despite the horror of what he'd just seen; the sheer lustful majesty of the demon slut was too compelling; brain fought a silent war with his cock as he tried to edge away, and masturbate all at once. But first she claimed her prize:
Effortlessly her inner folds manipulated the hot, male rod thrusting within her. The drunken, Sigma Chi was doomed the moment his penis became erect; and with practiced grace from more such encounters than hairs on the boy's head, the steamy cavern of drooling lust engulfed his manhood, rapidly seizing control of his every thought and desire. The spiky-haired sorcerous apprentice, gasped in longing; broad chest heaving beneath his tie-dyed shirt. His flinty blue eyes riveted with awe upon the spectacle of the demoness straddling his friend's crotch as he sat tied to the chair; cackling with manic, libidinous glee.
As her demon-tits heaved, encircling Sigma Chi's head and concealing his ears with each lurid thrust, her flaming red eyes bored into his soul.
"You could live for one hundred years; and never know this much pleasure with a mortal woman." The whimpering screeches of delight from her latest prey attested to the truth of that. Forcing his inevitable doom from his mind, spiky-haired boy leapt forward; clasping a hefty, ripe boob, and began to suckle.
**********
"EMERGENCY EXTRACTION! I REPEAT; EMERGENCY EXTRACTION!" Howled the voice of Linda Cartwright over the powerful radio. After a few moments of tense static, a hesitant voice replied.
"South Weddell Microbiological Research Initiative, you are not scheduled for another drop until-"
"WE HAVE WOUNDED! I REPEAT WE HAVE WOUNDED! THE FIRE DAMAGED MOST OF OUR SUPPLIES!" Yet Linda's face belied such fears; her lips were in fact twisted into a wry grin. The lush cascade of her bronze hair spilled luxuriantly over ripe, pert breasts at least three times the size of her previous C-cup chest. Her statuesque body reclined in resplendent nudity, as she ran a delicate hand over the thick bulge of her taut, pregnant belly. Almost as if on cue, a surge of obscene, sensual bliss tingled along her spine, and she gave a throaty moan that to any audience, might have sounded like deep distress; but was in fact a response to the enhancements in her body. Her plain stature was ripening, lengthening, and firming into a stunning form that Linda was unclear whether she more resembled an Amazon of legend, or a World-Class Supermodel. Of course, no Supermodel would pose in excess of 9-months pregnant with....with what?
Her gravid womb rippled as the unwholesome spawn surged within her. Any fears, doubts, or suspicions had faded away within seconds of the impregnation. The floodgates of a primal, potent race memory stretching back incalculable eons had overwhelmed all previous trepidation. Honestly, the creature that had been Linda Cartwright felt a little embarrased that she had actually been afraid when the alien tentacle had thrust itself down her throat, to infect her with what was no doubt a potent blend of retroviruses, catalytic enzymes more powerful than anything modern science had ever dreamed; and her Destiny.
The Goddess lay back in a churning nest of purple, glistening tentacles that now sprouted and hung from every corner of the laboratory. She was still recovering from the shame of not embracing the unearthly mentality of the alien species the very instant that the Infectors penetrated her brain. She shook her head in sadness; the old Linda had actually resisted for two seconds as her neurons were penetrated by the new biology. How foolish that she should value her old personality over this new glory!
"And you were foolish Director, for not unleashing the potential within the samples sooner!" She insisted to the squirming, naked man hanging suspended between numerous purple tentacles with held his fast as they penetrated every orifice. The fearful 'deer-in-headlights' expression on the middle-aged researcher's stunned face seemed to denote passionate disagreement. Well no matter; there were many things she could do to this one, so many.
The Plane would arrive ahead of schedule; there was no doubt of that. From their to the Airfield, and there to the larger airports until she had reached the city. Almost any city would do. Whichever was close.
From the corner of the laboratory near the water-bath incubators there came a perverse, gurgling sound. Linda twittered with delight! This was a momentous event! The slimy, many-layered greenish cocoon lurched and grumbled with pestilent promise as its contents became restless. Linda stood, caressing her slick, perfect body. Running her hands from her engorged, naked crotch, across the taut bulge of her motherhood, to tease her bloated breasts; which responded with a quick spurt of hot, sweet milk from erect nipples.
There was a shrill sound like a drowning horse trying to cry out with a snake in its lungs, as the cocoon ruptured; a delicate, feminine arm popping through the rippling tissue. The sickening abomination that emerged looked like nothing so much as a raven-haired strip-club dancer in the midst of a mud-wrestling match. The alien monstrosity had some difficulty slipping out of its chrysalis; using one hand to drag itself forward, and the other hand to masturbate her slick, throbbing cunt. Even with the slime from the cocoon it was clear her aroused sex had begun to release a flood of girl-cum. The horror raised itself on hands and knees to test out its toned, firm, experimental legs. The Spawn had the sort of body that human males dream about, and the mind to make a whore blush. Her round, squeezable ass quivered as the alien hybrid gave an obscene grunt, looking up at her mother expectantly.
**********
Was it all about breasts? That seemed natural. Heather pouted in the front passenger seat as her mother Sarah drove her to school. After a fender-bender with her own car, the Insurance company had complicated the prospect of the 16-year old driving herself. That and the fact that mom was sooooooooo late picking her up from gymnastics yesterday combined to make a generally foul mood for the teenager.
"And what happened in here anyway?" Heather asked in disgust; noticing the burns, and scorch marks in the minivan's interior. Mom had to think fast.
"Well, it was going to be a surprise but....didn't work out that way. I went and bought a load of fireworks for the 4th! But I had a little accident, I guess they were faulty." It was about that time of year, not impossible. Heather noted no trace of the colorful wrappers that often composed fireworks, but suspected that mom had already attempted a cleaning. Her only reply was a disappointed, teenage-angst-ridden "Harumph."
Inspite of her worries, Sarah allowed herself a brief smile. Her daughter would never know that her own mother was in truth a millenia-old demonic entity that lived to destroy men with sex. Heather seemed perfectly healthy, intelligent, and...if she was a bit too sullen, well that's not unusual for her troublesome age. But really, the only trait that might be cause for concern was...well....Heather's profoundly large breasts. They had started when she was only 12, and had blossomed forth beyond all conventional cup-sizes until her youthful hemispheres hung at a size similar to that of a tall salad bowl, when loose her globes were not unlike full water-balloons; but they truly swelled in the tight spandex of her gymnastics outfit. Which was also unusual; girls of such impressive.....endowments typically found so much leaping and bouncing all but impossible. Yet Heather never complained, and was fit enough to hold her own in almost any athletic competition. Still, her mammaries showed no signs of slowing down their burgeoning blossoming, but they never seemed to slow Heather down.
As Sarah rounded a corner, approaching the street closest to the parking lots, she dwelt momentarily upon some more disturbing thoughts. Her husband Jason, what was the real reason he'd bought those titty mags recently? Was it....could there be some strange, perverse notice of his own daughter? It all seemed so unlike Jason; after centuries of reading male behavior, studying and manipulating them, there was no indication that his affection was waning. The human seemed completely, hopelessly in love with Sarah's frumpy, flat-chested, middle-aged persona. Of course, it occured to her that she was most certainly a hypocrite, complaining and worrying about her husband's fidelity after what she did with those college kids....But to her, what she did as a Lilim didn't count; when she was summoned and compelled by sorcery, there was little choice in the matter. But what about Heather? Was there another reason for her sulking beyond car troubles?
But she really shouldn't worry; while there was every likelihood that a child born of a Lilim and human would possess demonic powers, Sarah had ensured that her daughter would have a normal life. When pregnant, she'd performed a Nullification Ritual to strip from her developing child all traces of Lilim nature. And then, just for good measure, after Heather had been born, she'd done the Ritual again; making doubly sure that her daughter had no demonic powers or traits, and would seem no different than every other human girl.
While giving her daughter a quick kiss goodbye, Sarah reflected on how proud she was. She was creating a normal, healthy, stable family. Something no Lilim had, to her knowledge ever done.
**********
"Damn! This is almost as good as one of those silly stories about some sex-monster that lures men to their doom!" The doomed man exclaimed, clutching the waist and giving a firm squeeze to the ass of the horror that had seduced him.
"And what if it is?" the sexy monstrosity whispered in her husky voice.
"Heh, you'd be worth it, baby!" Strange, now that he was pressed up against the wall in his hotel room, the woman's clothing seemed to have vanished. He didn't remember her ever taking it off, yet the blue sequined, low-cut cocktail dress was no more, leaving only the sweeping curves and voluptuous bounty of the bronze-haired beauty that had so brazenly come onto him in the bar below.
Trace had never been with a woman that seemed so clearly, completely in lust. In his college days, he'd experienced one-night stands before, but most of the women he'd been with had a more frivolous, indulgent, or mischevious attitude when they'd dropped their drawers. But this hottie....from the fire in her unusual purple eyes, Trace almost got the feeling that...that she wanted this even more than he did! Which didn't make sense; women just weren't wired for this kind of hard-core, frenzied lust....right?
His further reflections were stymied when the impossibly erotic creature tore open his button-down shirt, exposing his broad, hairy chest, his slight paunch, and an appendectomy scar. Not the most handsome of men, yet her craving for him was as intense as his own! Rather than a more conventional kiss, she more of less engulfed his face, red lips locking with his own as her tongue thrust into his mouth, her hands caressing the dark stubble of his unshaven face, occasionally flowing through his stringy, black hair. He had only intended to drown his sorrows over losing Stacy in a few brewskies, but when opportunity knocks...
It was a swift, powerful rut. This woman, what was her name Linda? She hadn't bothered much with introductions, nor did she seem overly concerned with foreplay. So insistent was she that she didn't even wait for him to reach the bed. With surprising strength, Trace was tripped, mounted, and screwed within 3 feet of the bed. Yet the grunting, groaning, jiggling sex-bomb that writhed sensuously atop his cock would not even be denied long enough for just those few steps.
Trace tried to enjoy, to savor her body. He ran his hands over the swell of her hips, above her mons, as her pelvis jerked and leapt in time with her lurid grinding. His roving hands had almost reached her ass when all muscular control failed him. The electric sensation of her slippery, dripping pussy as it devoured his manhood struck him with a bolt of bliss too extreme to allow room in his mind for mere muscle control.
Time seemed to slip away; had it been minutes or hours? At times, the cavernous warmth of her womanhood seemed to engulf his entire crotch as she screwed him past all reason or sanity. In Trace's delirium, it seemed that her already vast breasts were getting larger still, and her face; that impossible, porcelein beauty contorted in savage lust seemed....for a moment her face and features twisted, mingling and churning in a way that was inhuman. But then the eerie expansion of her creamy boobs obscured her protean face as vast, ample teats dominated his field of view. With each jiggle that accompanied the grinding of their wet sexes, globes of pure boob seemed to attain yet more weight and girth.
Her breasts seemed to be twin heads with life of their own, exerting their dominance over his desires. Could Trace do anything but lick the silky smooth skin below a turgid nipple that was surging towards him? He wanted...tried to grope those glorious globes. But in the height of pleasure that had swallowed his mind, he wasn't sure whether it was tits, or ass that yielded under his demanding grasp. His hands knew only soft, pliable, silky feminine flesh.
It seemed to be the sounds that drove him over the edge. Her pussy, what a noisy pussy, it elicited pops, slurps, almost gurgling as his rock-hard shaft impaled the portal to the creature's womanhood. He remembered having the orgasm....he thought that's what it was. And yet...yet there was no crescendo, there was no true climax. They simply rutted like beasts upon the floor....and Trace was spurting into her; he knew that now. He could feel his cock spurting rich jets of seed deeply within her slathering cunt. But there seemed to be no true release. He did not build towards orgasm and then release tension with his seed. It was as if her pussy drove him towards orgasm...and past it. Ever and more stimulation. *SSHLUK*....*SLURP*
That pussy, that impossibly talented pussy, it did not seem to allow Trace to have a conventional orgasm, yet it stimulated him far beyond that threshold. As his hands roved over her womanly flesh, he felt himself again spurting into her, but the libidinous frenzy did not diminish! After spewing into her more cum than he had produced all week, the sex-beast seemed moderetaly contented. Her frenzied craving for cock seemed to mellow into more of a passive desire to be penetrated; while Trace's lust only increased. Now, she allowed the male to dominate the mating, allowed him to surge upwards, pinning her beneath his hairy, sweaty weight. *SLUNK* *POP*
With Trace on top, the tempo changed to a more deliberate, reverent copulation. What remained of his sanity knew that this was a once in a lifetime opportunity that must be savored. Firm breasts squeezed beneath his chest, her nose nuzzled the heavy stubble on his face as she gave him an indecent lick. Hot friction between the mating couple heightened the experience for both.
Trace had stopped questioning the unlikely, implausible nature of this encounter; it was too good to pass up regardless; therefore he merely savored the woman's expertise, he did not question the way her pussy seemed to be moving in different directions simultaneously, teasing and tickling in ways he'd never imagined. He did not question what could have made a woman so horny, so slutty, and gave a small smile when he felt the drenching female lubrication that slathered his entire pelvis in girl-cum. He merely gave silent thanks that she had wrapped her sleek legs so tightly around his hips, to better force his member into her hot tunnel of lust.
It was odd; there was a slight quivering, a tingle and slither in his crotch, in his flesh that he couldn't explain. As Trace's hands gripped the bulging baby-feeders that wobbled beneath him, as an unearthly scream of forbidden glee erupted through the air, at last he found the release he had sought. His clenched eyelids did not notice the purple tentacles that had begun to spread out from the couple, to spread throughout the room.
**********
It was not fear, or hunger that brought her out of the Chrysalis. It was lust, pure undiluted licentious craving for males of a sentient species. It was certainly tempting to remain in the warm, wet, comforting cocoon forever, masturbating her own cunt, but it would never be enough. With a roar and a thrust, the alien abomination ripped through the greenish tissue of the cocoon and dragged herself into the open air. One hand to propel her, another hand to slide in and out of her well-lubricated vagina; as was the way with her kind. She did not bother to examine herself further; she knew that her physical form was optimized to attract the males of the target species, and she hunched on the ground, breathing in the air for the first time since she entered her Chrysalis, and waiting for instructions from her racial memory.
She had emerged! She would go forth and claim males for her own! She would breed and spawn legions! As was the way with her kind. She rose then, the muscles of her new, sleek, feminine legs functioning properly. Her Mother and Queen, Linda was here as well. Mountainously pregnant, as she should be. Her rippling belly was preparing for the birth of yet another womb-sister. But Mother and Daughter shared no words in the conventional sense; once she had torn open her own Cocoon from her own power, she was clearly an adult, able to feast upon the prey species without guidance. Indeed, her violet eyes rolled up into her head as racial memory gave her a plan of action.
The new spawn stepped over the glistening, purple tentacles that were starting to take root throughout the hotel suite, emanating from LindaQueenMotherBreeder towards the various cocoons of her new womb-sisters, and entered the private bathroom. Going through the rituals of commerce in order to purchase clothing was too time-consuming, and the Spawn knew that she would need a large supply of semen within the hour if she was to survive.
Instead, she simply chose a simple bathtowel, wrapping it around her delectable torso in accordance with the local nudity taboo. In a hotel, women wearing bathtowels would not be unexpected. The moisture from her chrysalis combined with the towel gave her an appearance similar to a human woman just emerged from a swimming pool. It was sufficient; her nubile form was much like those women often depicted in pornographic magazines and movies, but the classical features of her face were more like those of a World-Class fashion model. Brief trepidation caused her labia to spasm slightly, but she had every reason to suspect this shape would be adequately appealing.
LindaQueenMotherBreeder had been busy, for She passed several more Cocoon Spawn in the lavish, red-carpeted hallway of this hotel floor. The seventh floor was rife with impossibly gorgeous, slippery wet women who appeared to be in their mid-twenties, wearing nothing but bathtowels. The most recent, dark-haired Spawn passed a stunning redhead with sharp eyebrows and jiggling breasts that held the white towel taut. Redhead unleashed a hypersonic trill with alien organs in her throat. Faster than human speech could register it, the dark-haired spawn responded with a subvocal ululation in acknowledgement. Redhead had been alerted to a large concentration of male organisms, and relayed the information to her Cocoon-Sister.
The pair of sleek sex-pots passed a pale, nordic blond just emerging from room 722. She was wiping her sultry lips as she reapplied her white towel to cover her glorious nudity. The hypersonic chirp she gave the pair warned them; 'HUMAN FEMALES MAY BE PRESENT, PROCEED WITH CAUTION.' Taking the warning to heart, the dark-haired horror stood hesitantly before room 725. Lifting up the bottom of her towel to expose her moist, throbbing labia. Exquisite, unseen sensory organs detected no life signs. Redhead used her own cunt to test 727......reporting only an aged male past his reproductive prime.
Exposing her crotch in front of room 731......yes....here....Dark-hair detected a potent dose of fresh testosterone.....a virile male with unmet sexual needs. Her pussy moistened considerably as she sensed his health and vitality. She let forth a subsonic whine for several seconds, communicating a subliminal signal that activated the most primal, sexual part of the prey-race's brain. The blond and redhead entered rooms adjacent to this one, satisfied with the occupants.
*THUMP*
*THUMP*
*THUMP*
*THUMP*
"Alright already, I'm coming. Tim Samwell responded to the door. He adjusted his belt and unconsciously brushed his prematurely balding scalp. Despite his annoyance at being disturbed, whoever it was might break the boredom of his latest assignment. Being a P.I. wasn't all it was cracked up to be; and this wasn't his only lonely, bored evening. Man! What we wouldn't give to get a chance with some of that sweet pussy he'd seen in the hallways earlier! He'd...A sudden image of wet cunts and jiggling breasts came to mind. Unbidden, sexual fantasies stirred and churned through his awareness. With a sudden surge of interest, his beefy cock filled with life and strength, tenting his pants as he opened the door.
The woman was on him before the door had fully opened. Wet. Slippery. Sultry. Gorgeous. Dark hair with blond streaks pressed against his shoulder as the woman pressed against him. The white towel was gone in an instant as naked breasts the size of volleyballs teased and tantalized him. Then she...ewww! What!? She licked him! Just licked Tim's face like he was a lollipop ....or....something.
"Whooooaaa, sweetie...this....this sorta thing just doesn't happen ta me! Who.." A delicate hand thrust down his pants, as if to confirm that he did indeed have a cock, which was indeed erect. It made no sense! Tim wasn't that bad maybe but....nothing to write home about, he knew. He was balding too soon for his age, but then again...his thick build and sturdy arms had impressed the ladies in the past...
"B-but...who...why...what's yer name?" he stammered, amidst nibbles, nuzzlings, and lurid licks.
"You may call me......Traci..." This time, they at least made it to the bed, before the pussy-impaling, breast-suckling rut could begin with sweat-slicked earnest.
"The Succubus made me do it." Reported Jim Caldwell, the local Trekkie/Area-51/UFOlogist conspiracy nut.
"You shouldn't read that trash, Jimmy." Admonished the prim, proper, flat-chested Sarah. Adjusting the tight bun of her greying hair, to maintain as much dignity as was possible in a supermarket checkout-lane.
"That's just what they want you to think, Mrs. Cox. The National Intruder Magazine is where the REAL journalism happens!" reported the lanky, paranoid young man. Fixated, Jim slowed down the checkout line as he became engrossed in the sordid tabloid.
"She turned my girlfriend into a pornographic statue using her demon magic, then she gave my best friend so many orgasms that he went into a coma....Reported accused rapist Terrence Filmore, pleading his innocence." Jimmy was reading the article out loud, including quotes. Sarah frowned; it was important to refute the National Intruder, as they'd reported on some of her previous exploits!
"The succubus used her demon magic to take control of my emotions, otherwise I never would have groped those twleve co-eds! It....It wasn't me..." Jimmy was getting into the quotations! "It was like....having sex with the succubus put a...a...lust spell on me! I couldn't help myself after that!" Sarah slapped the tabloid out of Jimmy's grasp.
"Harumph! You can read that smut on your own time, thank you very much!" she said icily, while loading milk and cereal onto the conveyor.
"You'll see Mrs. Cox! There's so much more out there than most people realize! This....this world we live in....it's just a...a sugar-coated topping!" Flustered, he gesticulated wildly, drawing amused stares from the other patrons. "There are powers.....forces...around us that most people are clueless about!" Oh Jimmy. Better if you don't know.
The urges hit her again as she was loading up the groceries in the parking lot. Impossible....can't be.....again? She tried to dismiss the sensations, but when her hair started to redden, when she felt her breasts blossoming upon her chest like bread-dough rising in an oven of female potential....she knew. There was no doubt.
"Two summonings!? In the same week?" This was unheard of! Knowledge of her Truename was too scarce! Or...it should have been too scarce! The odds were astronomical that two occultists in the same week would - "RRUNNNGH!" And yet, as unlikely as it was, she'd prepared for such an eventuality! Sarah hoped no one in the parking lot would notice as her face lost its fine lines and crow's feet; youthening in seconds. She had perhaps a minute before her growing breasts would bust out of her dress but...Her ass! In quick jerks, her hips stretched and widened, while her ass rounded out into twin hemispheres of lust that caused her dress to ride higher! She had to hurry!
Prepared, she put the milk, ice-cream, and other perishables into a cooler she'd brought along for such an eventuality. Then, she hurried into the back, wrapping herself in a thick blanket to contain the conjuring burst of fire and brimstone. She was able to shimmy out of her clothing before her increasingly voluptuous anatomy caused any further damage. Concealed tightly, she nonetheless tried to keep resisting the magical compulsion even after her wings began to form. She held out even as her fingers lengthened into blood-red talons, but when her tail began to thrash, she-
*FSHHHOOOOOOOOOOWMMM*
The music was an odd touch. A thick, pulse-pounding beat intended to arouse primal aggressions. Most diabolists preferred absolute quiet to maintain concentration; the better to control evil beings like Sarah. Of course, she didn't need to be such a bitch whenever summoned. But the thing was, she HATED being summoned! She had a life of her own! What...did these occultists think that her kind just sat around on fire all day, waiting to be wrenched from their homes for evil purposes? Whenever possible, she had to destroy her summoner, and the occult information that allowed him to cast the spell. It was the only way she'd ever have peace to raise her family.
"MISTRESS OF FLAME AND LUST! YOU ARE MINE TO COMMAND!!" Rasped a harsh, guttural voice. It seems her reputation was spreading. The demon stood erect to her full amazonian height, swishing her hellish tail as she surveyed the surrounding. Grey, blank concrete, again. But this time adorned with yet more candles, more black cloth, and obscure runes of ancient evil inscribed in....sheep's blood! A step up! Ah...but the window....
That explained the music! A neon sign was barely visible from her vantage point...flickering pink lights proclaimed: TITOPIA! Triple X! Yes, the aura of palpable lust would make conjuring succubi ridiculously easy. Allowing the caster to invest more energy in control. The summoning circle was even more secure than the last one, with tertiary inhibitor wards! There was no way to attack the human directly....
"SARAI'EROTHKOK! IT IS BUT A SIMPLE TASK YOU SHALL PERFORM!" This one was a lean, wiry man in his 30's. His hair was spiky and brown, his face contorted in a rictus of passion that drove men to the heights of power, or depths of depravity. His left eye was partially closed, even though his right was wide open. Perhaps some neurological disorder....or exposure to dark, and forbidden powers.
"What is your bidding....mighty mage?" She moaned, her voice impossibly seductive. There was always a flaw, humans never thought of everthing; and any summoner could eventually be beaten. She had to! A man of this expertise could conceivably conjure her every night! It would put a terrible strain on her marriage unless she destroyed him soon!
His damaged left eye actually had a red iris, contrasting with the blue of the other. He'd been around the bend more than once! Outmaneuvering him could be quite a challenge!
"YOUR TASK IS ONLY TO RECEIVE MY MALE SEED WITHIN YOUR HELLISH WOMB! THROUGH YOU, I SHALL BREED A FORCE OF CAMBION SERVITORS TO CARRY OUT MY OWN DIRECTIVES! ONLY WHEN MY SEED IS WITHIN YOU SHALL YOU BE PERMITTED TO RETURN TO THE CESSPOOL OF TORMENT AND HORROR FROM WHICH YOU COME!" Hah! These assignments were the most fun! And she was getting an idea. The demoness' eyes glowed with an infernal light, and a potent brimstone-based sexual attractant exuded from her crotch. Though her 'Master' shuddered visibly as she began her seduction, he was not yet through.
"BY MY COMMAND, AS I AM PERMITTED THROUGH THIS SPELL, I ORDER YOU TO PUT NO ENCHANTMENT UPON ME; YOU SHALL DO ME NO PHYSICAL HARM THROUGH FORCE, OR MAGIC! THUS BE IT SPOKEN, THUS ARE YOU BOUND!!! AHAH!!!" he cackled, his left eye twitching madly.
"So be it!" agreed Sarai'erothkok, who was eager to be done with this and get back to her 'cesspool of torment and horror'. She licked her lips with a tongue that seemed twice as long as normal, her stinger tail caressing legs....thighs....slipping in and out of her hot, bare pussy, as she squatted lower to the ground. A quick scan of unconscious, non-verbal cues confirmed the man's preferred position: Sarai'erothkok postured herself on hands and knees, tail raised, sharp wings stretched wide as her naked sex glistened before the summoner's hardened rod. She wiggled her ass to signify readiness to receive his seed.
He thrust into her with as much joy as desire. Throbbing cock pulsed out and in....in and out...*SLUCK*...*LURRP* Her copious lubrication was nearly boiling with hellish heat, yet the intensity only heightened the pleasure. The smell came on full force. It was not a pleasant, seductive perfume, it was an obscene, putrescent odor of corruption. Yet the man craved it instantly! The vile, demon-rut-musk seared his nerves and boiled his mind in lust. The fact that this perverse odor multiplied his raging libido created an air of guilty pleasure; guilt which served only to make him more rigid as he thrust into her.
The rutting demoness had a plan, which sadly would require more time than she hoped; but her plan would end this, by ensuring that this summoner never had a chance to summon her again! She couldn't put any spells on him directly, but.... Her cunt soothed and caressed the male, she did not go merely for the quick orgasm, she teased and tweaked his lust. Driving on his desire with the motions of her ripe ass, and the experienced control of her womanly sanctum, honed through millenia of every conceivable sex act. For Lilim, such liasons were never boring or tiresome, each man's energy had a slightly different aura; and their lust was always sweet. It was like a buffet with two and a half billion gourmet meals, no two exactly alike.
Moaning with passion he hunched over further, their bodies locked into bare-backed copulation. By leaning further, he could reach the swelling grandeur of her bobbing breasts. He kneaded the perfect, female globes as a drowning man clutches a life-raft, and Sarai'erohkok allowed herself a monstrously revereberant screech of primal passion. It was just as good today as it had been with Julius Caesar, but over the past 80 years, most men's cocks had become slightly larger, and the Lilim could not, would not stop. So long as their were men that desired sex, Lilim would be close at hand, to feed and destroy.
By foregoing the quick orgasm, she heightened the tension throughout the sorceror's entire body, slowly raising his breath, pulse, and desire into a frantic fever pitch, knowing exactly where and how to pinch of the pleasure to prevent him from blasting off too soon. With a howl of frenzied desire, he finally spurted into her, finally came. His flesh shook violently as potent, virile sperm swam eagerly into the demoness' moist passage. He gurgled incoherently, his entire body releasing all tension, all energy in this single spurt.
He collapsed thoroughly exhausted, so content and satiated that he fell asleep upon the bare cement. The slumbering wreckage of his conscious mind pickled in total pleasure. And almost as soon as he began snoring, her belly seemed taut. Arching her back with a hellish grunt, the demoness caressed her swelling belly as it bulged heavier with fast-growing offspring. Lilim had enormous leeway, and control over their fertility that mortal females could never match. Steam escaped her moist skin as her flesh ripened with unholy fecundity. Ripples appeared on her perfect skin as the unnatural horror, a Cambion gestated within her. Such a creature existed outside the natural order, and was not bound by the laws of magic that restrained demons. Her belly pulsed into the third trimester in less time than it took to say it. Her tightening nipples were ripe and dribbling with hot milk in preparation. Cambions were metaphysical wild-cards, disruptions that could cause great harm when released into the world. And this one would be no exception.
While the father slept, there was a burst of steam, water, and cloying brimstone smoke as the Lilim birthed her unwholesome spawn. For fiends of her breed, giving birth was as much a pleasure as pain, and thus Lilim had no compunctions, indeed even excitement when their summoner wanted them to breed young. And Sarai'erothkok had lost count of the horrors she'd birthed over the centuries.
The cambion progressed into a toddler in mere seconds, suckling the ample nourishment from his immortal mother. Limbs lengthened, thickened, grew. Skin tightened and matured, bones popped and cracked amidst the fluid, smoke, and heat of demonic birth.
Long before 'Dad' finished his contented nap, the hell-steam hissed and flowed around a tall, muscular form which was....identical to his own! An exact replica of the father stood there, confusion and intensity on his face, wiping off the last of his mother's milk from his face. The Cambion was a complete copy, indistinguishable from the slumbering summoner. Identical down to his fingerprints....and his DNA.
"Rape....murder...." he breathed, as though these words formed the totality of his existence. "RAPE!! MURDER!!" The cambion cried happily, as though reaching an awesome revelation. Shambling to the rear of the building, he found a rusty crowbar in a corner, clutching it gladly as he repeated his mantra, before rushing out the back door with rigid penis fully and powerfully erect. The only other words he would remember would be his father's name: 'Victor Callow', and he would have a fascination with video cameras as he committed a crime spree that even the most hardened metropolis would not soon forget. The Cambion would turn to dust within 24 hours, but his fingerprints, DNA, and semen samples would remain, and forensic scientists would find them especially easy to identify.
"That was a nice touch; I was afraid you'd lost it, girl." She was short, but not a small woman. Though the Stripper had a petite frame that was scarcely over 5 feet, her awesome breasts swung lazily through the air like bloated soccer-balls. Rigid nipples tented the red fabric of an almost threadbare bikini, the entire bosomy package jiggling with the promise of licentious exhibitionism.
"I HATE being summoned, Semiramis. I NEVER want to be summoned." Explained the naked, sweaty, glistening demoness beginning to rise to her red-clawed feet.
"Heeyyy I hear you, girlfriend! We all know the feeling! Oh, and I go by 'Samantha' this century. Just so you know."
"Then why did you help him find out my Truename? Don't deny it, these mortals were good, but they would have needed help, and you're not at all surprised to see me."
"Yes, well you're not the easiest demoness to find! The others worry that you've gone soft, but after tonight...." The demonic stripper giggled girlishly, as her eyes flared with a burst of hellish, blood-red light. "They say you've been playing house!"
Sarai'erothkok rolled her eyes. "I....I'm a...I'm married with a family. And before you ask, he doesn't know anything. He thinks he's married to a middle-aged, suburban P.T.A. mother." 'Samantha' was incredulous.
"Doesn't know? You mean he isn't a slave?"
"Of course not! We have a real relationship!" Sarah retracted her wings, claws, and tail, becoming merely a statuesque, red-headed amazon of impossibly-scultped beauty. Having accomplished the task for which she was summoned, she could now leave the circle, though she still couldn't directly harm the summoner. The police would take care of that! All that the stripper-demon could say was a simple query;
"But...why? Is he hung like a horse?" 'Sarah' grunted in disgust...how to explain....
"For thousands of years you and I....and the others....we've seduced armies of men, led the weak-willed to their doom, cock-first." Samantha smiled, but urged her friend to continue. "I've toppled emperors, led Holy-Men into mortal sin, deceived, tricked, destroyed countless lives. Throughout the...the whole 20th century, I felt that, well....that I had peaked. I'd done everything a Lilim aspires to, you and I can tell countless stories of seduction and destruction. And...and that's it." Sarah's red eyes faded back to a common brown as her gaze became introspective.
"Do you have...free will Semiramis? Do I? Do humans? Does the concept really exist? We are monsters; no denying it, no sugar-coating it. Is that all I am? All I...could be? I don't really know, but I do know that my old life...pleasurable as it may be...had lost meaning long ago. I want...I want to prove that I'm more than just a sex-monster with a single role. I want to see if I can do more than poison, and destroy." She turned back and looked the shorter, voluptuous demon in the eye.
"I've never...created anything! All those centuries, I never built anything, contributed to anything...positive. Could I? I'm sure you're going to jump all over me, saying how foolish, how impossible it is, and in a way you're right; Doing....what I'm doing, it's so unlikely, so difficult, that the challenge of it began to consume my thoughts about 40 years ago. It's the last great challenge; and I'm doing it! I spent the sixties and seventies preparing. And so far, I've been able to cohabit with a mortal man, raise a child, without enslaving him with sorcery, I haven't stolen his lifeforce, and he believes that I'm a decent human being! This...this endeavor means more to me than the sexual conquest of any emperor! It's just my way of proving to myself that I do have free will."
The stripper-demon nearly exploded. "AND WHAT HAPPENS WHEN MR. MORTAL AGES AND DIES? WHAT THEN? WHAT'S THE POINT?"
"I don't know yet. I just know that I'm going to build a family as safe, stable, and happy as I can." The hellish little sex-pot frowned and scrutinized the taller demoness, folding her arms and pacing with worry.
"You're right, I do want to jump all over you and smack some sense into you; but there's another reason we've been trying to contact as many Sisters as possible, there's a threat to our territory, our feeding grounds. Yes, even yours."
**********
Terrence couldn't believe it! the hotel was full of these babes! She was devoring his cock! Pink, full lips from the blond goddess wrapped and enfolded his throbbing manmeat in a sheathe of warm, wet bliss. As he lay back on the bed, spread-eagle he could do nothing but chuckle with the joy of it all! This was the most gorgeous babe he'd ever seen! She made the Sports Illustrated swimsuit babes look like hippos by comparison.
And she was deep-throating his dick like there was no tomorrow! Like she needed his cum, and so much of it! Terrence was afraid that tonight would be a bummer; he'd been meeting a lot of girls that just weren't impressed by his rock-hard abs, stylish center-part haircut, and classically handsome features. But this bitch was hot for his cum! And...more cum...
Terrence moaned in bliss, as the halo of blond hair covering his pelvis...but...but he had already cum! He'd....he knew he had spurted into her...twice at least. But....his cock just kept burning! His desire never diminished! The lust...the heat in his groin just kept building! And as she bobbed her head up and down upon his shaft, it was as if his dick kept getting...larger? He could feel his beefy meat stretching, growing harder and yet more erect. Terrence felt an increasing sensation from her tongue...or...there it was again! It was like the babe had...two...three? A swirling chorus of wet caresses bathed his rod from different directions at the same time. Even as what felt like multiple tongues licked his head and shaft, he felt a wet tickle at the sensitive under-side of his rod! Must be some tantric technique.
There! he was cumming again! She gulped down his seed like the nectar of the gods and...and there was more this time! A solid burst of semen gushed from him, and yet the bitch seemed to suck even harder! Where was it all coming from? Wherever he was getting it, he hoped he had plenty more! He never wanted this night to end!
**********
Conventional street-wise lore held that a hooker who video-taped her clients took her own life in her hands, but Jade realized that such records could also serve to protect her, if she played her cards right. But who was she going to give *this* tape to? City Councilman Renfrow was a horny bastard terrified of his wife; and the potential scandal that could result from his extra-curricular activities....paid for using city funds, no less. And Jade, sensible 'working girl' that she was figured that a little bit of leverage might go a long way.
The half-asian, half-caucasian hooker had just begun her strip-tease (Renfrow liked some foreplay) when that frantic knocking began. Whoever it was, for whatever reason, Councilman half-demanded, half forced her to hide out in the closet.
The door opened upon a nearly-naked porn-star with smouldering violet eyes, a rich cascade of auburn hair, and impossible curves. Her bathtowel was cast away to reveal female perfection that could have earned the slut starring roles in any adult-movie. It was as if a trance came over the portly, heavy-set, balding-blond politician as she glided into the room. His questions were stifled by...by a lick!? What a slut? The towel was off, boobs began bouncing, and Jade was forgotten from her lovely vigil in the closet.
The howling, frenzied copulation lasted longer than possible, longer than it ever did with Jade. She knew that Renfrow should have cum five minutes ago, Yet the business-stealing bitch just kept pounding away at him! The burly councilman filled the air with curses, blessings, and impossible promises, yet the slut never even gave a name. She just screwed him like her life depended on it.
But she'd been with Renfrow for months, she could tell when...there! The way his body jerked like that! It was his orgasm! Jade knew it! Jade knew him! But....that had to be his fourth orgasm! The hooker knew that she was in the presence of a true master! No doubt, her John would pay whatever price the slut asked, probably sign away the keys to the city!
She must have been seeing things, but amidst the churning muscles of the bitch's naked back, she thought there was...something unnatural, rippling throbs beneath her skin. Her spine began to sway in ways that should have defied human bone structure. And then came the tentacles.
Oblivious, the politician weeped with joy as the purple tendrils exuded from the bitch's cunt and ass, enwrapping him, penetrating him...encircling him! He was too delirious at that point to care. A horrid membrane seemed to encase the councilman, like a...a....Cocoon?
Well, that seemed to conclude their encounter...at least the first part. Throwing herself off the indentation in the purplish-green cocoon that had once been Daniel Renfrow's cock, the bitch arched her back and growned....as her belly seemed to inflate?
It could have been minutes...or hours....but Jade could not...dared not tear herself away, even if she thought she could escape. The writhing, feminine monstrosity swayed, jerked and jiggled, and in the dim light, the human hooker saw vague sillouettes of something unnatural, something inhuman....no..maybe not. But as her belly continued to grow, bulging forth into a gravid dome of undeniable pregnancy, the way her body moved gave Jade shivers. There was a brief hint of a writhing nest of tendrils that encircled a rippling tube of flesh which.....no....it was gone....she was just an extremely attractive woman...who screwed men into green cocoons.
Time lost all meaning, riveted by as much horror as curiosity, Jade continued taping...as minutes dragged on into hour after hour. Until the abomination was ready. She squatted on hands and knees over the bed, making shrieking grunts that sounded like a...a..maybe a drowning horse?
The birth of the first horror was overshadowed by the rippling burst that erupted from the greenish cocoon. A slender, feminine arm tore mightily through the membrane, and another stunning piece of babeflesh pulled herself from the alien slime. One hand to pull her out, the other hand to masturbate her pussy. It...it was Daniel Renfrow....or it used to be. The towering blond sex-bomb lurched to her feet, sweeping curves of glistening womanhood overshadowed Jade's own. Some might consider her measurements perfect, except that her breasts, her jiggling, bouncing breasts were far too large. They...they must have been...nearly basketball size! The nordic beauty of the she-creature was a far cry from anything recognizable as the portly politician, she must have been 30 years younger! This slut could have been a college co-ed. Yet even in youth, most girls would never hold a candle to that student body.
By now, the first creature, the brown-haired one, had squeezed out...four of..of..they were babies. Weren't they? Full sized, well-formed infants crawled towards the wall, all looking suspiciously alike. And yet, as they moved towards the shadows, there was an impression of white tentacles...there was a smooth white eggsack that propelled itself....no...what was wrong with her? The more she looked at them, the more she saw...just babies. Human-looking babies...all crawling to a wall and...attaching themselves? Attaching themselves with spindly, white tentrils as the moist eggsacks throbbed with.....no....it was gone....no white sacks...just babies.
Jade shook her head. In dim light, she thought she saw something alien...inhuman...yet when she focused her gaze, everyone seemed human. Incredibly attractive, but human nonetheless. Yet in her peripheral vision, unforgettable impressions of squirming horrors not of this earth tickled her thoughts!
But they kept coming! Her womb still bloated, the first female kept birthing yet more of the disturbing non-infant infants. She...she must have produced...ten of them already! And as she moaned upon the bed, caressing her belly, it was clear that she had yet more in her. If there was doubt before....no way...she was actually enjoying it! No human woman squeezes out that many babies and enjoys it!
Blond goddess (who was once a portly, male politician) emerged from the bathroom wearing a bathtowel, but she scrutinized the closet....lifted the towel to expose her swollen, perfect pussy. And released a gurgling scream of inhuman outrage! Jade had been found out! Throwing open the door, hitting the blond bitch with a portable ironing board, she leapt for the door, and freedom.
**********
"Well....at least he...he died happy." remarked Amelia, the young, eager intern assisting Forensic Pathologist and Investigator Dr. Lucia Terrel. A grey-haired, early sixty-ish professional who'd seen things....almost this weird, in her 30-or so years on the job. To her credit, she remained unflappable as they examined the latest victim.
Proudly, the penis thrust upwards into the sterile atmosphere of the autopsy chamber, the still blood-gorged member had to be no less than three-feet long! The post-mortem member erupted from a caked mass of flaky white tar of a thickness and texture that Amelia had never seen before. The odor was a dirty, musky scent, somewhat unlike that of most cadavers. The caked crust of white material seemed to cover the entirety of John Doe's body, forming the outline of his arms, legs, and head.
"Subject identified as Terrence Walters, Caucasian male, Age 25...." Dr. Terrel scrutinized a report. And the concretion around him has been positively identifed as...." Even the seasoned pathologist blushed. "...the deceaseds' own semen." she couldn't stifle a shudder.
"And....how is that possible....?" Amelia wondered.
"Let's find out...." Dr. Terrel brought a small syringe up to the base of the erect cockhead, and when he pricked it, the situation rapidly deteriorated. The suddenly thrashing monster-cock knocked the needle from her hands, and a shriek erupted, a strangling, shrill, gurgling cry not meant for human vocal chords. The penis lashed out with a mind of its own, like a thing alive..
"Impossible! He had no - -*MMMPH*" The beastial cock had already coiled itself around the doctor's throat, but not until it had stuffed itself in her mouth did it begin to ejaculate. Amelia could do naught but flee for some help...any help...but beneath the plaster-like layer of hardened semen, what she assumed to be a leg exploded outwards....but it was yet another thrashing, prehensile penis. And another where his right arm should have been. The appendages, heating with blood already, restrained and captured both women. Encircling, strangling, penetrating.
But why didn't Dr. Lucia Terrel feel anger, or disgust, as the impossible monster that had once been Terrence Walters spewed yet more cum down her throat? It must be because it felt sooo good. Too good. Warmth and pleasure floored the aging doctor as alien pathogens assaulted every cell in her body. Why wasn't she at least frightened for Amelia, as the penis-monster stripped her naked, with a great thrusting rod pistoning her cunt? Because the pleasure....it felt too good....
Amelia's protests got progressively weaker as her breasts grew larger. Her once modest beestings had already blossomed forward and outwards into strawberry-shaped cones, from their shuddering their way towards a more respectable orange or apple-size, as the unnatural retroviruses and otherwordly enzymes re-engineered her flesh itself.
Ahh... that must be the reason why Lucia did not feel the need to protest even more as the penis-tentacles tied down her arms and legs while ravishing her; her skin...she was getting younger! Wrinkles and spots vanished as whole, full flesh filled with unwholesome vitality from the onslaught of alien biology that had invaded her every cell. Her own, now ample breasts burst forth from the confines of her lab-coat, and as the expanding spheres of jiggling woman flesh rose high enough to obscure her feet, she found that she no longer begrudged the hot penis in her mouth and pussy, filling her with transformative alien semen. She felt a swell of youth and power! Her skin had become just as soft as supple as Amelia's!
But the Doctor felt a twinge of jealousy, for Amelia's tits had surpassed her own! The globes jiggled their way into and past the size of grapefruit, deepening valleys of cleavage straining her bra until...
*P-POP*
Raw tit surged into the light, each boob nearly large enough to contain Amelia's own head! and the way her dark aureoles spread out further across her breasts, to a size near that of coasters, there was little doubt that the bosomy assistant was not yet finished expanding. But as Lucia's newly-youthened tits attained a size large enough that they extended to her own elbows held out straight, she felt a flush of embarrasment that she had resisted these changes. They were the Spawn of LindaQueenMotherBreeder! The new race memory said so! How foolish to cling to her old humanity!
For her and Amelia, Forensics could scarcely have seemed less relevant. Their only mandate now was to breed, to spawn, to spread the Brood all across this warm, inviting planet. What beautiful simplicity! She'd been given a new lease on life, and all she had to do was breed...and breed....
**********
"In ancient times, they were known as the Ck'uhntt." Explained 'Samantha', opening wide a thick, black-leathered, arcane-looking book that had to be over 2,000 pages. The financial office of the 'Titopia Triple-X' was still so inundated with raucous noise and aggressive music that it would be difficult for anyone outside to overhear. Granted, the owner of the club was there, but his pants were long gone, and his cock had shrunk back in upon itself to escape the demonic stripper's intense seduction. The spaced-out expression of oblivion on his moustached-face held no doubt that he was in shock from the pleasure of Samantha's pussy. And even were he awake, Sarah had no doubt that her long-time acquiantance had enslaved him years ago.
The gigantic-breasted demon stripper produced a slim, glass vial, with a writhing purple tendril locked within it. The slimy strand thrashed and pulsed with an obscene life of its own.
"It matches the descriptions, we've done all our supernatural, and natural tests. Someone, somehow has brought back the Ck'uhntt." Samantha paced, tits jiggling with each dainty step. "In the scriptures of nearly every earthly culture, there is mention of a long-ago, global flood that wiped out the wicked. Before that, there was said to be an ancient time of lust, and evil. But the Lilim know that the Ck'uhntt were largely responsible for those primordial depictions of lust. But the Cataclysm destroyed them the first time they attempted to breed a colony on this planet, whatever remained of them was sealed away in the most remote places of the earth."
"So they are indeed extra-terrestrial?" asked Sarah, trying to focus on the information, that she might studiously ignore the naked, unconscious man sprawled out in a rotating office chair. Her carnal instincts compelled her to ravish the mortal man, but during the years of her marriage she'd gained the discipline to suppress her nymphomaniacal cravings for sinful sex just for its own sake. Another way of proving to herself that she had Free Will.
"Extra-terrestrial..." Samantha tasted the word, and rejected it. Seeming very professorial. Those who beheld her lurid gyrations on stage would be flabbergasted at the sinister depth of awesome knowledge and vicious intelligence that burned in the brain of this immortal whore. "The Ck'uhntt are not merely another species from the next star over, they are totally unlike the dime-store aliens of popular science-fiction. It is their universe that is alien. They originate in a dimension with utterly unfamiliar rules, the natural law of their realm is different from ours. They are an aberration not meant to exist in this reality. They should not be, and indeed they cannot be." Unconsciously, Samantha began tweaking her own erect nipples as she continued. "The ordered principles of our universe's natural laws cannot tolerate their chaotic biology. The only means by which they can survive is to merge themselves with a native, sentient species. That would be humans." Samantha shook out her ripe bosom, sending jiggling cascades of luscious demon-tit.
"Preferably, extremely attractive, female humans. The Ck'uhntt are an entirely female race. They greatest true asset is only their impossible fecundity. Far greater than any earthly species." She focused are red-flashing eyes on Sarah. "There are parasites on this earth, species of nematode whose fertile females can lay as many as 27 million eggs in their lifetime. But the Ck'uhntt can easily exceed even them. All they need is a large population of suitable males, and if they conceal themselves long enough, mimic their prey, then they will be able to breed so many trillions of individuals that any planet will be buried in a horde of alien sluts so prolific that society would be powerless to stop them."
"The data is inconclusive, but all descriptions and reports claim that they can so quickly breed so many, that resistance will be impossible. I've done my own calculations from these reports; I believe that within the year, there would be so many Ck'uhntt Breeders that all the ammunition made by the human race would not be enough to kill them. In six months, they could *ahem* penetrate every continent, so great are their reproductive powers that by that time, even if Man declared total war, they would reproduce faster than humans could kill them. The nations of the earth could concentrate on their eradication, and their rate of population growth would still increase."
"They'll take over our cities...communities.." Sarah reflected. "Our...feeding grounds. They wouldn't even need to fight. If...if they can breed viable offspring that rapidly, we will simply become irrelevant, and starve." Samantha nodded.
"We can breed Cambions, but they tend to be short-lived and unreliable. The Ck'uhntt will bury the Earth in trillions of reproductive individuals, and it will be too late by the time humans realize the threat. It's just a matter of them remaining secret, if they mimic human women long enough, men will gladly impregnate them, and lose control of the planet. They just need a little bit of cunning, just a brief period of trickery and misdirection, and the human race will be buried beneath jiggling breasts and hungry pussies."
"What are there plans? Do they have a leader with long-term goals? Are they part of some...some interstellar empire?" Sarah wondered, stretching her slender arms as her ample breasts bounced.
"From all reports, they have no more civilization than the small-pox virus. They are consumed with an insane, manic urge to breed without limit, or discretion, whenever possible, as much as possible." Samantha explained. "But...the legends claim that they have...transformative powers....there are odd reports of the Ck'uhntt transforming their victims in a variety of ways. If they have the guile to deceive humans for just a few weeks, it will be too late. There will be too many to imprison or kill. They just mimic whatever society the target race possesses, that they might harvest as much sperm as possible, through whatever means. All their intelligence is geared towards this purpose; for no other reason than the increase in breeding that results from the obsession with breeding."
"I'll do it, I'll find their weakness and stop them!" vowed Sarah, but she was not concerned for her 'feeding ground', her mind was filled with nothing more than a defensive, maternal instinct. How odd; she wasn't human, she was a supernatural entity outside the natural order, but...living like this... as a human woman....she had the same resolve to protect her nest as any mortal-born female. It didn't matter whether it made sense for an immortal demon to feel this way; she simply did. That was all there was to it.
"You! Stop them?" Samantha was incredulous. "All Lilim must be warned, but honesty, no one expects much from you. You're weakened, Sarai'erothkok. Don't deny it, I can easily sense it. There's no way you could live with a husband for all those years and feed from him as you should. You'd...you'd have to be getting by on a starvation diet. We have to warn all the sisters, but you should leave this to others. I know Lilim that consume a man a week; leaving them broken husks. *GIGGLE*"
"That's....well I haven't been getting the best diet." Feasting on the life-force of the college kids, and the crazy sorceror tonight had helped somewhat, but it was true; being a faithful wife meant taking so little energy, that her supernatural powers were dramatically lower than they'd been during her days as a wanton whore. "But it doesn't matter, I'll still do my part." Samantha looked the taller demoness up and down.
"You need to Feed, girlfriend. You need a heavy dose of male lust. Tossing a gauzy, flimsy veil at her, the hellish stripper explained: "And the Club needs another feature dancer! Get out there and feast!" And she pushed Sarah unceremoniously out of a curtain to the side.
Suddenly on stage, Sarai'erothkok's instincts took over. Her breasts, already the size of grapefruits, throbbed and enlarged. She sensed readily that these leering males craved vast tits, larger than what any human woman could be comfortable with. With a furtive surge, her bust size blossomed by at least an inch, aureoles expanding. But she sauntered on stage, savoring the sweet, tangy ecstasy of concentrated male arousal. She hadn't done erotic dance before an audience of this size since her days as a belly-dancer in the Ottoman Empire, but her skills hadn't abandoned her.
There was no fear of recognition; no one could possible connect the statuesque, amazonian red-head with the mousy, flat-chested Mrs. Cox. She could revel in the pulsing current of raw libido, energizing her the same way bees and hummingbirds gained energy from nectar. As her tits wobbled and careened through the air, as she waved her tight ass in the face of a cheering Big-Rig trucker, the flood of $20's and $50's in the collection jar on stage assured the ancient sex-demon that she had lost nothing over the centuries. Just a little energy.....just for a moment...
"Hah! Free Will, Sarai'erothkok? You'll always be one of us...." hissed Samantha as she adjusted her micro-bikini, red eyes flaring with devilish lust.