2 comments/ 30328 views/ 11 favorites BSU: Second Audition Book 01 By: xxxecil ** A return to my days as a purveyor of quick, dirty smut, on behalf of a paying client, be warned! Smut ahead!!** Second Audition A Bodyshifter's Universe Story by: XXXecil for Hire PROLOGUE With invisible hands the wind caressed the billowing folds of the flowing skirt of fire engine red as it hugged the curves of the scintillating beauty. Yes, this was the right hospital; Mercy General West. And today was the day. The woman was a leggy, caramel-colored vision of Gorgeous, seemingly more suited to a high-fashion runway in Milan or perhaps Rome. She stood ready on the sidewalk near the area where family members most often picked up discharged patients for whom the operation of a motor vehicle was not recommended so soon after their hospitalization. And the woman was well prepared, so she thought. She had reached the right spot, so for a moment she stood as her eyelids fluttered – to see if she could sense him the way she normally could. Just twinges, faintly warm pulses of fleeting desire burned in her belly, not quite enough to moisten her sex with desire. A mirrored desire. She felt the source of the warm energy passing rapidly on the street behind her, and her scarlet dress seemed to both rise and flutter in a way that afforded a scandalous glimpse of her athletically sculpted legs supporting the moon-like curvature of her firm buttocks. The wave of pleasure intensified for a moment, (Probably a family-man holdout) but then a sudden screech of tires brought it swiftly to an end. No crash however. That might've really boosted her spirits; in this town it was getting harder and harder to cause car accidents no matter what she did. It shouldn't be necessary, but while she knew she was gorgeous a little fender bender now and again was very encouraging. But not this time, and not from the right source. Already, it took almost half a day of running errands in public before she might sense the sweet energy of male lust. Her nectar of the gods. And it was getting worse all the time. That's why the woman in a red dress had a plan, she had taken the time to learn and study and pick a target. Something she learned from a ... Friend of hers. If anyone like her could be said to really have friends. The chase, the hunt was everything. But today should be easy; with all the prep time she'd put into this chase. Red was the color. Her ensemble passionate, yet teetering on the bosomy brink of titillation. Just the right blend of skin revealed from her mile-high-club legs, with cleavage a hair's breadth away from a wardrobe malfunction that she didn't need in order to be desired. With any luck, when her man was revealed he'd be wondering why he hadn't seen her on a magazine somewhere? Her behavior... appearance tended to confuse a lot of men: Why would a woman of her caliber be here - in a fly-over-country town like this? It amused her - the explanations some men devised. Her favorite theory was that she was a fashion model banished from competition for getting caught fucking too many of the judges. If they only knew... But few would make such a mistake nowadays; nor was mass-media much of an option - what with all the flux and uncertainty in fashion-modeling. There was talk that the bottom was going to fall out of the whole industry! But that only made it more imperative that she start nesting soon. And... there! There he was! Despite the fact that his legs worked perfectly well, the short and pudgy man was pushed out in a wheelchair, per standard discharge procedure. To a... normal girl he would have been nothing special. One more pudgy, horseshoe-pattern balding accountant-type. Only remarkable in how short he was. Ordinarily, the only way he could attract the type of woman she seemed to be was through bank-breaking wealth to stagger a small country. But she didn't consider herself... abnormal. Not anymore. What happens when the abnormality becomes the normality? Who's the freak then? Boldly, the woman in the scarlet dress stalked up to him, intending to take over from the nurse. But that nurse herself was only another reminder of the problem. She didn't really look like a seasoned, medical professional. Her fresh-faced beauty and scandalous curves cast in her in the mold of a sexy-gag nurse. The sexual caricature come full circle to actually perform the job for which she seemed to be a mockery of. But that was getting more and more common. Her man, her mark turned towards her as she strode forward. There it was... a hot spark washed over and in her. His desire, his lust. She could feel it. She could inhale it. Her kind could detect the invisible, narcotic currents and bathe in the pleasure. She needed the ability to sense a man's craving for a woman. It was survival itself to her. She knew how to tilt her hips to best effect, confident yet sultry. The seduction would begin before any words were spoken. He would plunder her with his eyes. This short, stubby little man. The leering that might have angered another girl was like mother's milk to her - if she'd actually had a mother. This pale, toad of a man was undressing her with his eyes. It was perfect! He was perfect! The woman in red knew that he'd had a difficult surgery, and had needed extensive rehabilitation to build his strength back up. He'd scarcely left the hospital in months; and few of the nurses were... like her. So he knew only bits and pieces of the way things were changing. Single of course. He had enough of an income to be stable, but too nerdy and soft to attract solid girls. That was the way she wanted to think of them. Solid. Not like her. Soon, they wouldn't necessarily be 'normal' anymore. Just different from her breed. Under the new rules, that made him a plum... a prize to be plucked. One of the last of the deliciously hopeless nerds that worked so well for someone like her. But she wasn't the only one. She should have known when the tires screeched from so close behind her this time. It was from a powerful engine; a glossy black shape streaked past her on the road, hastily intercepting the woman in red. It was a limousine. She gulped in fear. Recklessly, the stretch vehicle backed up onto the sidewalk, as if to deliberately obstruct the competition. Her. "Ciao, Professore Metzger!" cooed a sleek, jade-eyed goddess with raven black hair and a brown-sugar tan. Two others slid from the doors of the limo, each a leggy vision of the cream of womanhood. "N-NOOO!!!" the woman in red muttered, eyes widening in shock. They knew! They knew that Ronald Metzger had long nurtured a secret, hopeless craving for Italian supermodels! It was an easy enough fetish to fulfill, but they... they had done the research too! Learned the language! Just like the woman in red. But their approach was less subtle; each of the seven sleek hotties was barely-clad in lacy push-up lingerie as elaborate as they were scandalous. "NOT....Again!?!" She'd been down this road before. "Wh-who?" Metzger was utterly confused. But the woman in red recognized the license plate. The car, and the girls were all part of the Renquist Nest. The biggest, richest, sexiest gang in town. They'd had the same sources of information she did! Probably better! Metzger's sexual weakness revealed, and played to the hilt. "I am Bella; Che piacere vederti!" And with that greeting, a bronze-haired beauty with a gossamer-black garter (and little else) extended her graceful hand in the expectation of a gentlemanly kiss. Though thoroughly confused, Metzger did not disappoint. That clever little bitch! A demure greeting would give the man a comforting fiction that HE was the aggressor. When in reality he was the Meat. But the kiss had another purpose, the close contact would expose him to her pheromones. The raven-haired goddess took the push-handles of the wheelchair away from the sexy-nurse. "We'll take over from here," Assured yet another red-lace-wearing dream girl who looped Metzger's arm over her shoulder to help hoist him into the waiting limo. "Whoa... what... I don't know who you - " He tried to protest, until Bella silenced him with a hungry, face-hugging kiss. Miss Raven hair caressed his bald head as though he were some precious little bunny about to escape in terror. Which was not far off. "We just want to help you celebrate your recovery!" She decided. "Mmmnggglllhh..." Metzger murmured against the lip-locked goddess. Finally, he yanked his lips from hers with a pant. "W-wait... I think I heard of this... rumors about some sort of - " "Lies..." insisted a fourth girl, with especially plump lips. " You've no idea how handsome... desirable you are to us." The pudgy professor's face crinkled in stunned disbelief. "It's just for a little while;" plump lips assured. But that kiss; it was more than just a way to keep his lips busy, nor was it a result of any familiarity. They could practically bathe a man in pheromones that way, electrifying parts of the male brain even scientists barely understood. His every instinct would soon be screaming at him to breed. "Just party with us for a few...hours." The one calling herself Bella cooed, as she and her dark-haired sister hoisted him through the door. Yeah, if a 'few' hours meant about 10,000 or more! "But... this... this type of thing n-never happens to me!" Of course not, the woman in red mused - that made him more valuable. That line of reasoning soon seemed to fade away, as his eyelids began to flutter. A tangy, musky perfume he would have barely noticed was having its libido-supercharging effect. Chemical attractants weren't the end of their plan. The Renquist Nest was well prepared for most any contingency. From the other side of the limo, a lingerie-goddess of truly Amazonian stature slowly rose to an impressive height, with amber hair down to the middle of her back. She wore skimpy red lace - but not to seduce Metzger; she headed straight for the competition. Her eyes narrowed angrily at the woman in red, she was fantastically gorgeous, yes. But she was here to threaten, not entice. Her breasts were plump and massive; and they seemed to inch just a bit larger - as if to provide yet another barrier to a competitor. She was a Bouncer. A cunt-block, for lack of a better term. "No room for strays..." she hissed from on high in a knife-edge voice that brooked no compromise. But... what could the woman in red say? There was no doubt she was after the exact same prize; but the Renquist nest had the money and muscle to stake a claim and defend it...him? "It's temporary;" one of the Italian beauty-queens breathed soothingly, to comfort their prey. That was a lie; strategy of a conqueror - always obscure your true objective. "D-doesn't make sense..." Metzger protested. He was thinking of the old rules, the old balance between men and women. So deliciously naive. That innocence made him vulnerable. Yes, it was bizarre. Sudden, and confusing. But the simple fact of the matter was that he was a man. A simpler fact was that he'd fantasized obsessively over something like this ever since his first teenaged wet-dream. He should have been worried; but there was really no hope of him refusing. That was why the woman in red had come here! Researched his likes and lusts! As they dragged him into the vehicle, fear warred with craving as his hands tried to fend off his capture, and yet grope the supple, supermodel-soft bodies crowding around him. "You don't even have to fuck us all," said another of the beauties. "Only the girls you like the best!" Another lie; the Renquist nest was getting desperate; by nightfall Professor Metzger would feel like a mechanical bull at a rodeo-enthusiasts convention. Dozens of ravishing women would ride him like there was no tomorrow. The car door slammed shut on the hopes of the woman in red, locking in the hapless male prey for a week of the best sex of his life... after which sex would BECOME his life. Their prize secured, cunt-blocker got back in, as the limo unceremoniously pulled away. Just like that. The woman in red stood flabbergasted for a moment. Sexy-nurse nodded with understanding and gave her a sympathetic pat on the back. The Renquist sluts. Not that she was much better. But them! Metzger's shelf-life just went waaaaay down. Now that they had a man again, they'd be the Renquist Harem... or more properly the Metzger Harem. How long would he last? It was odd that the limo didn't have tinted windows. Most would, for a man like the old Renquist...had been. But not this one; as if the sluts wanted everyone to see what they did to their men. The taller one, cunt-blocker didn't even wait until they'd cleared the hospital roundabout before she was on him. Being larger than the others, she was able to muscle her way past them, to be the first at the new man. She could be seen arching her spine, encouraging Metzger to fondle her spectacular breasts. She was straddling him, and though an outsider could not see the junction between them, she knew - she could see that perfect moment where the tanned beauty impaled herself on the rapidly hardening shaft of this man. The woman in red could see - even though the car was moving - that clarion flash of perfect ecstasy. Cunt-block's expression brightened as if plunging into a hot tub after an hour in a blizzard: A hot tub of boiling pleasure. When one of her kind has to do without for a while, a return to cock can be mind-blowing. The successful huntress slammed her palm against the window of the limo as cascading throbs of orgasmic thunder ravaged her - not to mention her latest prize. Sending out hunting parties in a limo was deliberate: The others not able to fuck Metzger would be either plastering him with kisses, or spreading their legs to wave their pussies at him. More musk. The large back seat and enclosure of a limousine allowed a gang of them to blast a man with concentrated mating musks all at once. Now that they had him, Metzger's higher intellect would be buried beneath a raging drive to inseminate these females no matter the cost. The sheer lunacy of their approach wouldn't matter - only the electric hunger to caress their tantalizing skin, suck their hardened nipples - and most of all give their steamy sexes the battering-ram treatment. Mind and body paralyzed by rapturous pleasure. But for the hunting party, the woman in red, and all their kind, pleasure and orgasms was not why they chased men. It was about survival. And after all of it, all that prep time - the woman in red was left with nothing. Well... not quite true. As the car sped off, one of the windows rolled down, and an object - two objects fluttered out onto the wind. They were his pants. Pants and underwear. Because Ronald Metzger would never be wearing such garments again. All it took to capture him were seven pornographic goddesses matching his most cherished sexual fantasy, making him a willing captive in a prison of non-stop orgies. This stunted toad of a man who was now a prize worth fighting for. The lust slammed into the woman in red like a fuzzy tsunami to set her pulse racing and her pussy to moisten - the raw magnitude of the male desire she sensed staggered her. But she didn't need her special sensitivities to detect the triumph, the exultation of the Renquist hunting pack with their quick, timely capture that would sustain the Nest/Harem through many more viable generations. Then again, perhaps one of their promises hadn't been exactly a lie: The Renquist hunting pack had promised this was temporary; but Metzger's body would face a challenge like never before; how long before he joined the elder Renquist... Heart failure from a catastrophic orgasm. They'd burn through every lonely geek in this town with a fornication-feeding frenzy of open thighs and bared breasts in no time flat. And after dozens of ravishing supermodel-look-alikes had fucked him to death - the problem would be even worse. Harems should never grow so large; most of them would start kicking out members at about half of Renquists' size. But they found a way to make it profitable...manageable from that huge mansion on the edge of town. Now, their large numbers gave them more power, more money. But with her, Metzger could have lasted so much longer! She was just a good as they were; every bit as seductive! But there was only one of her. For several hopeless moments, she actually chased after the speeding limo; as hopeless as Metzger's romantic prospects would have been - as little as a year ago... But something in her peripheral vision brought the beauty in red out of her anxious tantrum: A squat office building about a block away from the Hospital. It was a man. A non-assuming black guy of thoroughly average stature. He had a pack of cigarettes and was evidently heading off to the back for a smoke break. No, she didn't know him, hadn't prepared for him, but he was still a man; she should be able to snag him! Breathing heavily to calm her nerves, she strategized for a moment on how best to prepare. Should she try a celebrity? Stepping into the shadows, her skin darkened, her face seemed to blur, and her clothes grew sparkling sequins. Was Beyonce' the way to go? A partial reflection in a nearby shop window revealed the pop-superstar in all her blond-styled glory. A few months ago, yes. But the sudden appearance of a world-renowned celebrity could prove so distracting, that it might trigger other emotions than the ones she wanted. Better to get a feel for the man first. Then she'd have a better idea when and how to fulfill his deepest yearnings. Who then? Perhaps someone anonymous to start with... to feel him out. She returned with a blurring motion to her Italian beauty-queen Woman-in-Red persona, then contemplated some alterations. Her skin darkened several shades from caramel to a rich milk-chocolate complexion. Her hair darkened to a midnight ebony color, but with sharper gold highlights dangling in seductive strands down her swan-like neck. Then, her 'you're-gonna-score-tonight' flowing red dress... The fabric contracted as if being sucked into itself. The texture shifted into a rough, blue denim. Suddenly she was wearing outrageous booty-shorts to expose the sweep of her toned hot-chocolate legs. Her top had become a see-through white athletic bra, assailed from within by delicious, squeezable breasts just large enough to allow the suggestion of nipples to poke through the white fabric. But why stop there? With a pleasant jiggle, her boobs filled out just a bit more, enough to strain the straps of her top, to give that lusty impression of bosomy fertility straining to break free. But this was a black guy! What about her ass! That already pleasingly round derriere blossomed suddenly into jutting twin planets to challenge the female undergarment industry and set to drooling the most woman-jaded Hip-Hop celeb. As she strode down the alleyway towards her hoped-for mark, she willed her pussy to release a potent pheromone musk with honey-suckle undertones. To most men, it wouldn't be much more noticeable than store-bought perfume. She knew the Renquist girls preferred a cocoa-butter scent that worked well in close confines to turn men into rampaging pussy-maniacs; but she thought her floral scent was excellent for drawing men in close. What to say? Often didn't matter. She just had to come up with some excuse to get in close... and his male nature would do the rest! Yikes! As hot-to-trot as she was, he might do her right here! Up against the wall! Her nipples throbbed at the thought. But now, the moment of truth. "Excuse me, do you have the - Christina Hendricks?!?" Sure enough, it was the spicy red-headed sextress herself; or her spitting image. Her fiery hair coiffured as though in preparation for the glitziest Hollywood gala. But her creamy flesh was otherwise naked. She smoked the exact same cigarettes that the false-man had been holding. Christina shrugged, and took a puff. BSU: Second Audition Book 01 "I get the hunger, sister. You leaped without looking?" She suggested as her impressive boobs seemed to bounce in sympathy. The woman no longer in red was ready to kick herself! Of course it was too good to be true! The smell wasn't human! And she didn't sense any male arousal. But still, so close... just the hope of it had been enough. "I..." "So what's your name?" Hendricks-double asked. "Nora." answered the chocolate dream-girl. "Sorry Nora, but we're not hiring, and there's no Amnesty. So we still gotta pretend we haven't replaced just about every man in the building." While the REAL men were secreted away in secure locations, seeding their harems in non-stop orgies. Their shapeshifting concubines assuming their roles in the community. Except for strays. Like Nora. But Hendricks seemed unusually moved by Nora's plight. "Alright, tell you what - " the fiery-redheaded shapeshifter reached into her cleavage, and produced an amazing quantity of dollar bills from between her feminine globes. "I make my harem a lot of money, and I know of a town about a hundred miles north of here; it's almost entirely human. Get yourself a ride up there; a good place to make a fresh start. You might even be able to start a harem yourself." But Nora was suspicious. "Why not go yourself?" The fiery beauty raised her eyebrows. "Like I said, I got a good job, good harem with a Master that can't keep his hands off me." That was really all her kind had ever wanted. "So I'd better get while the getting's good..." Nora mused, clutching the wad of cash with wide-eyed enthusiasm. A fresh start. New town, almost none of her kind... ********** She was apparently drunk, staggering down an alleyway - wine bottle in hand. Her sleek, brunette beauty was awesome, of course. And Nora watched her dejectedly from the second story window above. Just a little packing to do; far - far less than would be required for a human. Really, the packing was an excuse to mope around and reflect on her unsatisfying prospects. No shifter needed to buy clothes - everything she wore was actually a part of her shapeshifting body. Any outfit, any cut or texture was as much mimicry as the face of Christina Hendricks she now wore out of a sort of fatalistic envy. But she would take the advice of her benefactor - any stray would! Fresh city, fresh start! A chance to get away from the big harems and their increasing influence. Like the supermodel hive that the shifter in the alley below belonged to. The Reilly harem owned outright this building she was rooming in temporarily. A newcomer came into view from the side opening into the street. A cinnamon-tanned Latina in a white cocktail dress that encouraged the eye towards her hard nipples beneath. "3rd street intersection, Sally was sure she heard Spanish!" came the update. Sleek Brunette nodded, eyes widening excitedly. Her face blurred for a moment, becoming the pouty-lipped, sultry eyed image of actress Eva Mendez. "I'll head him off from the south, can you and the others cut off escape?" Cinnamon girl nodded, and the two shifter women set off; cocktail dresses hugging their ample hips. But 'Eva' stopped for a moment, looked at her chest, and willed a few more cup sizes to get a near-hand span of cleavage to rise above the hem of her apparent dress. Why not improve on the real thing? In truth, Nora suspected that the Reilly harem probably was a good thing in the short-term. Their progenitor had seduced a good-natured man and had produced progeny that took over the volunteer work at the homeless shelter. That gave them access to certain civic funds, and a lot of beds. And after the homeless men and failed drunkards had been cleaned, bathed, and fed by Reilly harem huntresses, their quality of life was a far sight better. And their orgasms sustained the shifting females. Status in society didn't matter to you when sex was life. But regardless, that meant less cock for any strays. The homeless didn't last long on the streets. (Not for the reasons that would have been common a few years ago!) But a part of Nora was unsure how to respond; she'd heard of 'virgin cities' before. Yeah, every stray had. And because of that by the time you got there, the early birds had already nested, and angry mobs of solid women were stirring up trouble. Displaced human females were dangers in these new towns, but by the time they had been outnumbered in the older cities, there was almost no free dick left. They all needed humans, but that human response was the greatest danger. But Nora also wondered what the response would eventually be from higher-up human leaders for the big-harem cities? There, through her other window she could see an ominous, plump-looking aircraft coming in for a landing. It could be military. Most shifters rarely contemplated the possibility of violence, as a species they were lovers, not fighters. Their strength was in submission and accommodation. Violence just wasn't a part of Nora's makeup. (Of which she needed very little, being able to copy any face) In the end, as far as she was concerned there was only one choice: She would continue to seek out new frontiers, new dick. She couldn't let it depress her - the fact that she'd been alive for almost an entire Earth year, without nesting with a man. (That had to be some kind of record!) Even so, there was a strange, lingering sense of dread that... the having would not be as good as the wanting. A maddening thought. But then, she'd never heard of a shifter lasting so long - and still surviving. It was an ironic perspective that a race of incurable nymphomaniacs would likely regard as...perverse. Most shifters never had the time to consider whether it was all worthwhile - if she wanted to survive, she mated. She moves in with a guy, lonely geeks work the best. And the rest...is history. But not for Nora. Too much competition to seal the deal. But she survived on the fringes...for far longer than the rest of her kind. Perhaps she was starting to view time the way humans did. But what else could she do? The reason she had survived so long was her determination to do just that. In the end, she would go to this new, virgin town, and there she would morph into whatever vision of beauty she needed to be. Get whatever cock she could before the big harems forced her out. Like always. And so that still left the question of what to bring? There were no cosmetics, no hair care. Like her face and clothes, her hair was a mutable part of her shapeshifting body, and could simulate any style, length, or color. Yet, there were some items few of her kind would want to do without. She paged through her celebrity gossip mags, yet again - despite their dog-eared condition. Indispensable for knowing the how's... and who's of luring men between her legs. And she had grown emotionally attached to hers. Any man, anywhere... she could sniff out his desire, and confront him with his deepest lusts. Trouble was - so could all the other hungry, horny shifters. There was more that she was missing, clearly. More reasons why men desired women than the obvious: She found an article on aging, old-time actress Sophia Loren. Still popular, still famous after more years than most shifters could conceive of. Curious... Nora's body blurred as she dropped her Hendricks persona and became Loren in a long gown. What would it be like to roam the streets in this guise? How would that change her perspective? How would people treat her looking like this? That was when her door exploded. That was when armed, gas-masked soldiers entered... guns drawn and pointed at her! ********** Sex was like a drug. To them, at least. Ronald Metzger was sure. He knew what it looked like when someone was wasted by a mind-blowing narcotic high. And that was the case here, with these women-creatures. Except the drug of choice was... uhhh.... him. Or... sex with him. It was as though his cock was main-lining liquid cocaine to the pleasure-centers of their brains! First day, he hadn't even been sure where he was - the sex had been so incredible! He'd never been much to write home about; but these Italian supermodels acted like his dick was the secret to eternal life! How...how had this madness first begun? Sixty outrageously gorgeous young women, living alone in this...this mansion? Well... at least sixty. It might actually be far more... Why here? Why not Hollywood? Or some glitzy runway in front of millions of fans? They - and he was living some sort of late Saturday-night raunchy "Weird Science" comedic parody of anything approaching real life. They wanted to make money yes, but they didn't seem to have any of the normal aspirations of girls of their age...and looks. And it was because they weren't human! He'd been asking about Sara... she had the most gorgeous, kissable lips. And when they thought he wasn't watching; he'd seen Bella actually erhh.. morphing into her! He'd been worried but...ohh... his dick was sooo hard! He fucked her... or maybe she did it to him. It wasn't that these girls submitted to sex with him; the haunted gleam in their eyes, the way the muscles in their throats would strain when they slithered atop him, he could sense it - that they wanted it...more than he did? How was that possible? Before he'd gone in for his surgeries, and then physical therapies, he'd had women laugh in his face at the prospect of a date! If anything, he was less attractive now than he'd been before hospitalization. But now, he found himself being raped daily by a harem of pornstars treating him like some Greek god! Then again, the way he'd been performing - maybe something had changed in him; his dick had never been so steely-hard. And... and the orgasms! Somehow, he'd managed five orgasms in his first day! Erhhh... or was it the same day? Was that possible? He really didn't know how long he'd been here. But the pleasure! As pussy after pussy writhed atop him, it felt as though he'd been sucked up by a wet tornado of erotic massage. He'd seen them transforming; and when he was with them - he felt transformed into a lightning rod for white-hot ecstasy man was not meant for. But the experience was as wrong as it was right. There had been one...day? Time? erhhh... it had been the fifth time he'd regained consciousness after passing out from an orgasm of thermonuclear proportions. The weirdest part wasn't that he could still be hard after so much beyond-sex. He had seen them, counted them, there had been nine of the seemingly Italian beauty-queens in the plush bedroom with him, and the only door out of the luxuriant chamber had been gently barricaded with a peculiar arrangement of pillows. But after rising back to consciousness from sex-austed post-coital bliss, there were clearly eleven girls sprawled in scantily-clad splendor upon the four-post bed and pillowed floor. Yet there was no doubt that the random arrangement of pillows was precisely the same as before. And the tallest girl, that incredible super-amazon with hair down the middle of her back, she was just...somehow... gone? Instead, there were two ravishing college-aged, identical flowers of womanhood, but they were moist, glistening with sweat and panting gently. As if they had just finished some intense physical exertion. These new girls were smaller than the others, seemingly younger - and probably not Italian. Their dark eyes and midnight hair seemed to betray an Arabic/Middle-Eastern heritage. They had the same sort of uncommon beauty that was becoming paradoxically common in this house/mansion for some unfathomable reason. No, not Italian - they looked like nineteen year-olds who had escaped from the head-scarf culture of Saudi Arabia to become porn goddesses in the beauty-friendly West. "Wh-where's Apollonia?" The gorgeous giantess that had rutted so vigorously upon his raging cock was not here, but hadn't left. The pillows most certainly had not been disturbed. The strangely new girls glared hungrily at Metzger. "You ask too many questions." Arabic beauty #1 growled in perfect English as she lip-locked with him. There was that scent again; that electrifying cocoa-butter with a hidden fire undercurrent. Just that smell, emanating from her hair - her skin twisted his stomach with a paroxysm of lust. "Feel my body, my flesh... feel my heat... for you..." The impossible harlot purred, his head between her hands. But her sister took a more direct tack, simply pouncing on Metzger's aching cock, deep-throating him with a moist vortex of cunnilingual skill to shame the most jaded whore. Her curtain of ink-black hair wavered like a sea of ebony as she bobbed her head in Metzger's lap. She took his entire length, not a gag or complaint. He hadn't even asked her. But still, Metzger wasn't a total fool. As the delight washed over him, he tried to hash out how someone he knew could have hired over sixty prostitutes for him alone... but drew a blank. The best he could come up with was that he had somehow become enmeshed in some sort of sorority hazing-initiation prank. It seemed a real longshot, but that might explain...almost everything that had happened... if drugs had been involved. If so, the joke or hazing ritual would soon wear thin - as would his welcome in this incredible mansion. He pulled his lips away from his latest unlikely lover, as the rest of the harem murmured in sexy slumber. "Guess I should...ohhh.... g-get ready t-to go?" He tested. "Why?" demanded the first Arabic girl as her sister laved his dick with demonic enthusiasm. Her shadowy eyes riveted Metzger's own. "You are the Master now. All of this..." her hand swept the bedroom. "All of us... belong to you. You are the lion of our pride. If you want something - demand it." She was panting with unwholesome urges. "Why would the King leave his Kingdom?" With that, the first girl rose, and grabbed his hand in her own. "If you left..." Bending over, she pressed his hand against the cheeks of her own ripe ass. It was an absurd, impossible gesture of submission and possession. No... this was as impossible as the shape-shifting... no woman could behave like this! Never! The new girl continued: " - Who would take charge... of your property!" She hissed, encouraging his hand to squeeze her impressive buttocks. With a feral grunt, Metzger ejaculated explosively. Down the throat of her sister. Though his mind was stunned by a freight-train of pulsing ecstasy, he understood. Outrageous words to push him over the edge. The male power-fantasy implied had put his sex-drive on high-heat. The orgasms were getting better, or worse. Again, the eruption was so intense that his vision seemed to swim, blur. He must be dreaming; because he was still hard....so very hard. The second of the new Arab girls rolled over, thrashing and caressing herself as an indecent firestorm ravaged her pleasure-centers before she succumbed to fitful, contented slumber like her sisters below. His dick. It was like cocaine to them. The first girl, she knew that his manhood would still remain impossibly potent even after so virile an eruption. She was on all fours, ass in the air. And the scent - it was stronger this time. In a flash, Metzger knew that the lust-odor, that potent rutting musk was coming from her sex. That prurient knowledge tingled down his spine, just the thought of it intensifying the pleasure. All thoughts of freedom, suspicion ceased to matter - there was only her ass, and the warm treasures within her sumptuous body. In a sex-rage, Metzger rose on his knees, to seize those glistening globes and ravish this tantalizing harlot from behind - in the behind. Her incredible, sexist proclamation could not be true, but he was seized with a need to make it true; to act as the lion seeding his pride with a roar of as much triumph as lust. From behind him, one of the Italian supermodels had awakened, and began to coo - stroking his straining back muscles tenderly, craving his attentions again. He would get back to her. All of them! That was when the door exploded inwards. Soldiers. Armed troopers in gas masks stormed into the bedroom - weapons at the ready... ********** The soldiers confronting Nora in her tiny, rented room where geared up as though suspecting a bioweapons attack. No exposed skin that she could see, and gasmasks covering their faces. Overkill perhaps? But Nora understood why. "Hey, get that machine over here, and test her for - " "Belay that." barked a trooper with Sergeant bars on his shoulder. "But she could be - " "Idiot! She's gotta be over fifty! Polymimeticus gynotrophia can't do that! Their body chemistry requires fresh, live DNA to remain viable; that's why they need to whore around looking like strippers." Sergeant explained rudely. "No way an alien that feeds on sex would look that old!" "H-hey! I was at the briefing too! uh... Sir." The chastised soldier complained. "Then use your head! We're looking for girls hot enough to be supermodels, but acting like hookers!" Just then, a naked redhead with a curvaceously plump ass ran panicked down the hallway beyond the soldiers. "On your Six! MOVE! MOVE!!" the shifter-hunters were not caught napping; bringing their rifles to bear as Nora sat paralyzed in terror. They turned away; ignored her. Their guns were modified; they were firing some kind of tiny darts at relatively low velocity. Nora could only assume it was some sort of shifter-specific countermeasure intended to royally fuck up her biology. She wasn't sure what that might involve; except that she didn't want it to involve her. Was she safe? Safe through a random quirk of luck? Just because she'd been experimenting with an older form at that exact moment? Well, luckily the soldiers didn't recognize the actress she was pretending to be; or the 'jig' would be tits-up. No. She got the feeling that no Shifter would ever be truly safe again. Men where her enemy; and her salvation. They knew that she needed a man's seed to live; but they weren't as smart as they thought they were. More screams and shouts as the onslaught continued. The Reilly harem, and those boarding with them all tried to escape. And it was not impossible, not for a cunning shapeshifter; but the odds weren't in their favor. The soldiers thought they could detect one of her kind - if they bothered. Nora knew that her hope - for now... lay in staying put. A soldier ran past her door with a coffee-tanned Hispanic girl slung over his shoulder as the mayhem continued. No... should couldn't start running now - because the soldiers would be expecting it; they'd attack her like all the others. But staying in this town was clearly impossible. But when to leave? When and how? One of her fellow Shifters, a member of the Reilly harem decided just them to play to her strengths. Instead of running, a lusciously busty brunette strode boldly towards the soldiers wearing green high heels, silver eyeshadow, and a green beret - with nothing else. An outsider could be forgiven for believing they were shooting an army-parody porno flick in the building. "Hey Boys! We're all on the same team here!" She saluted with a dazzling smile, overhead lights playing luridly across the sumptuous acreage of her ripe hips. It was a credit to her seductive charms that the squad paused momentarily, no doubt to plunder her with their eyes before opening fire. The beret brunette squealed before their anti-shifter darts, expecting a very different kind of prick - and she ran for cover, troopers in hot pursuit. How long until they decided to pursue Nora? She had to wait until the attack ended, and leave with stealth, not speed. And it was clear that these men were not to be fucked with; in any sense of the word. But within minutes, the tumult began to die down. Two soldiers started talking near her, they seemed to be under orders to hold position. Yes... it seemed like everyone else had been called away, probably to carry off their captives. Except for these two. Nora adjusted the bones of her inner ear to more easily hear their conversation at a distance. BSU: Second Audition Book 01 "Whadda we do with the men?" asked a gravelly voice. "Above my pay grade. Haven't met a one of 'em that actually WANTS to leave." "Yeah, Brass says the men have been....what's the word? Suborned by alien parasites." Gravel voice replied. Is that what Nora was? An Alien Parasite? It sounded so hostile, so dirty that way. She was no one's enemy. To live off of love and sex seemed natural and beautiful to Nora. "It looks more like the wildest party ever thrown in the Harem of Solomon. Some Middle-Eastern Sheik's wet dream come true." "Cum is right. You realize that guy downstairs screwed ALL of 'em! All fifty of the ones snagged by Alpha squad. And not just once; it was ongoing! You give in to 'em, and before you know it you're a sperm factory!" Gravely exclaimed. "I can think of worse fates." "Don't let the Major hear that kind o' talk. You heard the zero-tolerance speech! Besides, doc says that after five years o' that; orgasms that hard can wear out your ticker. Like some ancient succubus legend; fucked to death!" Gravel voice sounded frantic. "I can think of worse fates." "You kidding? No way is that shit happening to me! Not endin' up like that... that freak they hauled off to Pendleton. B-besides... I'm married." Gravely refuted. "Sure, so I won't tell anybody about that little Chinese number that you stuck it to behind the dumpsters." The other chuckled. "Wh- you wouldn't dare! And.. I.. I don't know for sure that she was - " "Denial ain't just a river in Egypt, no way a real woman would beg for it like that. And she enjoyed it even more than your wife pretends to. Talk about sleepin' with the enemy!" "Yeah... nobody really wanted to go to sleep." Gravely admitted. "Sure, but that means when I decide to taste the rainbow, you've got my back. Soooooo many choices!" Perhaps that was Nora's way in. She could feel pulses of lust emanating from outside the room she was - damnit! Beneath her long dress, her body had youthened into a college-aged wet dream of bra-busting pornographic goddess-hood. She needed to feed! Needed a man! Loosing Metzger after so much preparation had been a real blow. Now, these two soldiers were all but offering their dicks on a silver platter! But she had to be smart about it. Couldn't risk anyone finding out they'd missed a Shifter. And if she strutted out there all tits and ass to lure them between her legs... well, they might satisfy her aching womb, but they could easily send her to whatever shifter-proof hole in the ground the rest of her kind would be dumped by the uncaring army. No....Nora had to huddle in the corner, fighting her own desperately pornographic urges. Her body ripening into a girly-mag publisher's fantasy female in the hungering hope to attract a cock. But it had been far, far too long. As much as she feared capture by anti-shifter forces, there would come a time when the risk would be worth it. They might kill her, or subject her to nasty experiments... maybe. Maybe. But if she didn't entice a man to fuck his seed into her now-ravishing body soon, her death was a certainty. She could feel that she had perhaps two days... give or take eight hours. After that, she'd be too weak to chance shape, she'd start youthening rapidly until she was unable to feed at all. One more failed Shifter statistic. And in these days of heavy competition, that was a fate that was becoming all too common. So she could take a chance on these two dicks, keeping her alive in the short-term, or trust in freedom, and an uncertain cock supply. Still, after the capture of the Reilly harem, these two seemed alone on this floor. Hmm... if she could get them to double-team her, their combined male output could yield enough precious DNA to keep her healthy and shifting for a week! Her pussy throbbed at the notion, and she stifled her quavering moans of desperate lust. Life... she needed to live! She needed to take a chance! Maybe... maybe she could bargain with them. If they didn't report her to their superiors... then...then...she could fuck both of them, as much as they wanted! The male need for a woman was almost as great as her need for them! A bargain... with all the other Shifters going to some internment camp; they would need some reliable pussy. Someone discrete... like her. A risk, but her mind was made up. Now... it came down to the presentation. First impression. They would know she was a shifter immediately; no way to hide it - no solid girl would just offer her body to two strange men in exchange for their sperm. (A lot about human women she didn't understand, but she knew that much) She would need to wow them. In search of inspiration, she thumbed through her magazines... yes! That was it! Or rather, she was it. These were soldiers... manly men. Her odds were good. Her legs lengthened into tanned, statuesque towers of feminine pulchritude, hair lengthened, lightened to spun gold. Manly men... surely they would fuck Heidi Klum! Of course they would! But still, when her body blurred, it took almost twice as long to finish the change as it had when she'd replicated Beyonce'. She was getting weaker; shifting more difficult. She had to mate! She had to! But what to wear? The long dress melted and morphed into a glittering silvery outfit that was somewhere between a bikini, and a sequined party dress; just what the legilicious German supermodel might wear to a glitzy fashion show. She studied herself in her portable mirror. Yes... the likeness was perfect! but just for good measure, she added some tiny specks of sparkling glitter across her bare skin. She would take the sure thing; a cock in hand was worth two in the bush - and despite the risk, she knew her odds were better if she could just get these guys to release their throbbing male lusts within her! Hands on her hips, she stalked boldly out of her tiny rental. Who wouldn't want to fuck Heidi Klum? ********** Achingly sleek figure, ravishing towers of long-legged she-tastic beauty to make panty-hose themselves jealous. She was Heidi Klum now; as if strutting down the glitziest runway of the most drool-inducing Victoria's Secret Fashion show ever. But the grim and grimy hallway she strode through was a world away from such glamour. It was sad though, the way so many of her Shifter sisters had been taken off to some government, black-helicopter, secret-deniable internment camp. (Their not being human seemed an acceptable legal loophole) Sad... but Nora was nothing if not a survivor. Carting off so many thousands (if not more) of her kin also eliminated the competition. She would mourn her imprisoned sisters with cock and sperm. (It's what they would have wanted) But there was no grief on the boldly confident mask of sultry excitement that shown on faux-Heidi's face. The last two soldiers on patrol where not her enemies; they were her salvation! Heidi's Klum's body was her fishing lure to reel in her prize of manmeat! But a troubling sensation stole over her as she approached the room where she'd heard the men with enhanced hearing. Suddenly she became aware of wave-after-potent wave of human lust! Her extra-sensory abilities went off like alarm bells at the alluring firestorm of desire her alien senses were tuned towards... in fact - to have such a sharp twinge of lust, stable like this would almost have to mean that... **SLURP**, **MSUCKLE** Nora/Heidi had reached the open door, and saw for herself. Sex. Active fucking was the only thing that could generate a wave of lust of that intensity! Who wouldn't want to fuck Heidi Klum? Two men that were already dick-deep from both ends in Brazilian Supermodel Giselle Bundchen! That gorgeously severe face and sculpted nose was buried in the crotch of a massively-muscled black man writhing his delight; while his squad mate, a wiry blond kid with a scar on his chin was jackhammering her Brazilian cunt from behind as though probing for buried treasure - a treasure for his dick. And everyone was happy. Giselle thrashed with lusty undulations between her two lover-captors as her eyes squeezed shut in an expression of soaring delight. Delight that should have been Nora's. It seemed someone else had beaten her to the punch: Another canny sister-shifter had evaded the first purge; and probably thought the same thing Nora had - suuuuure most of the shifters had to be captured, but these soldiers could be persuaded to keep one on the side; their own little sexy secret. Just for them. They could let one slide by surely? Suuuure. Nora understood; and she also wasn't worried about the future of her species in the long run. No matter what purge or oppressions were attempted by scared humans with political power, she understood men well enough to comprehend that the temptation of his own personal concubine able to become any woman imaginable was beyond irresistible. There would always be one man who would shelter a shifter, protect her, then mate with her, then screw her, then ride her hard and deep like his ultimate fantasy female in heat, with more and more sperm each time. Until that one lonely survivor would become two, and four, and more. And her species would just start again. They would survive. But that didn't mean Nora had to be among the lucky ones. Day late, dollar short again. No, this little minx would become the forbidden sex-secret for these men. The risk they would take with their superiors (who themselves probably had a shifter on the side) Yes, they'd probably keep Giselle around, but Nora? Two shifters would increase the risk to them. They might be able to turn in Nora as if to prove their loyalty to the mission; all the while keeping this Giselle whore for themselves. Two? Too risky. For them - and thus for Nora. Still, it was hard to leave. Nora/Heidi huddled in the hallway, at a sharp angle making it difficult for the distracted men to see her clearly. Very distracted. Her kind would survive because, as the searing waves of delight emanating from the men aptly demonstrated, Shifter sex was more pleasurable than the 'real thing' ever could be. Even if through some bizarre twist of fortune the actual Lingerie model-starlet herself were here in the flesh; the solid woman could never hope to enjoy this sex half as much as a Shifter would. Her enjoyment, her cock-slurping, hip rolling-enthusiasm would enhance the experience by far. This Shifter was quite literally - fucking for her life. She aimed to please and would most definitely deliver. With a wet sound, she disengaged from the black soldier's mighty cock. Wide eyes raised to gaze at him expectantly. Her face blurred with vibrations as the Giselle-shifter began to shake herself as if throwing off droplets of water. Adding a little inertia made the changes easier. Nose, eyes, lips... and skin shifted. The lithe frame of Brazilian Bundchen grew bustier, complexion darkened. "How's this work for you, hunk? Sooooo biiiiiiig." Tyra Banks cooed at the black soldier's frustrated, but still hard cock. "You gonna get any bigger if I look like this? Whatever you want, whatever gets you offff.... I'll beeeee." She purred. This new shifter now rather closely resembled Tyra Banks in her Sports Illustrated Swimsuit cover girl days, long hair style, dark-shadowed eyes; tits like tropical fruit. Indeed, it seemed as though this shapeshifting slut had studied that issue; because her body immediately slickened with moisture, as if Tyra had risen up dripping from the Fountain of Bustiness to seduce these two jarheads. Her backdoor companion had stopped momentarily, but they'd been briefed on the Shifters, and the blond guy found that he enjoyed rutting his way into the pussy of Banks just as much as Bundchen. So with a shrug, he soon continued his virile exertions. The black stud caressed Tyra-shifter's slick hair, then rudely plunged himself between her lips; knowing that his offering would be most welcome. But Nora's would not be. Too risky, and not just because she might not be able to trust the soldiers; as her womb moistened with sympathetic yearning, as lust-sense was tormented by cascading waves of male desire, she might not be able to trust herself! Pure instinct could drive her into the arms of men that might condemn her in the hopes of just the tiniest dose of manseed. Time to get the hell out of Dodge! (She wasn't quite sure where Dodge was, but humans said it a lot.) ********** Human, Human, Human. The nondescript, surprisingly small chested woman thought to herself as she passed an armed checkpoint and prepared to board a Greyhound bus. Luckily for her, there were still a lot of details about Shifters that the soldier's didn't understand. They seemed to be under the impression that all of them had to be ravishing fantasy supermodels all the time. Not true. But the army (or marines, Nora wasn't sure which) had learned that Shifters made clothing out of their own metamorphic bodies. Nora was prepared. As she walked cautiously through the bus station, she made a point to trip and stumble, knocking off one of her thick, black women's shoes before pointedly slipping it back on her delicate foot in full view of waiting passengers and soldiers on guard. That, and her hat. A wide brimmed thatched number with synthetic flowers. She made a point to adjust it, taking it on and off several times whenever she was around the guards. The small-breasted woman was beyond - or beneath suspicion. But there was a price to pay beyond the petty cash needed to purchase the items. She'd lost time during the invasion until the soldiers convinced themselves that the Shifters had been dealt with. Now at last, they'd changed their threat-level to allow screened civilian traffic. On the bright side, actually buying some of her clothes meant less shape-shifting, saving the precious DNA she didn't have nearly enough of. In fact, her chances were grim unless - But there... outside - Nora saw something that gave her shivers. Through a large side window in the bus station Nora could see a block away humans wearing HAZMAT suits, near a large truck with a nozzle on it, and there was some strange, beige pudding on the street. And Nora knew. It was a dead Shifter. But not from anything the soldiers had done. This town had gotten so crowded with her kind that starvation was a risk. The hose vacuumed up the lifeless, pale pudding that was the destiny of those that failed in the eternal quest for sperm. Escape! She HAD to find a virgin town! Not her... it wouldn't happen to her! But her odds had worsened; as she was forced to wait. The soldiers would have captured and invasively probed anyone or anything trying to escape those first few days. And now? She was weakening steadily; less than a day and she would be unable to shapeshift! She was already much younger; if she wasn't concentrating on holding an identity, she just kept fading into a younger version of whatever woman she seemed to be. If this tip about a man-rich metro was false, or out of date... she gulped. But she would have her chance. Her bus was boarding! Her pussy tingled at the thought of a college town. Ever-hard fraternity cocks to feed her with a river of living sperm! That was the claim. She had to believe that; she was invested now. Luckily, she had a seat to herself. Would there be any possibilities among the other passengers? Old ladies...hmm... maybe! Problem was; too public. An open orgy would be too obvious. No solid girl would bear her body for strange men on the bus that she might be bathed in their hot, life-giving seed! No, the army (or marines?) would be after her. Shifter's natural pacifism gave her a blind spot towards military distinctions. No, that risk would prevent her from getting any during the trip, for certain. One thing bothered her though, how did the military explain the invasion and blockade of the city? She knew that they still would have to offer some sort of - "...Viral Venereal Disease known to cause extreme hallucinations. The Disease can be fatal" squawked a portable radio that a hunched old woman to Nora's right clutched greedily. " The BS virus has been shown to trigger hormonal surges in women of child-bearing age, leading to...erratic behavior." Erratic? Shifters were nothing if not focused! Was that going to be the official story? A disease was making women horny? "Male victims have been known to suffer heart failure as the disease progresses into the final stages..." "Bastards!" Nora hissed. Trying to scare off all the potential cock! It might work... but more likely guys would wait a few weeks until the buzz died down, then by more careful with condoms. Wouldn't work; defeating condoms was the first trick a Shifter learned! Still, it would lower the cock quantity... some would believe it. She'd have to be more circumspect; clever. No more throwing herself at any dick that hardened in her presence. She had to come up with an angle. She'd have time to think about it on the way up. But how was she going to - "Oooohhhhh....." The wave hit her then; sharp and intense and sweet. The energy of male sexual arousal, Close! He was a rather wiry, fortyish man with salt and pepper, stylish hair annnnnd.... a Celeb mag! Nora's heart began to race, and a powerful tingling rush swept through every inch of her body. Her body that craaaaved, hungered for sperm, and knew that her time was short! Her body began to shake! The pages... she could see the pages of the magazine, and the man's subsequent sexual arousal. She could see which women - which celebrities he desired, which women turned him on the most. Her pussy clenched furiously and... and she felt herself changing! She pulled her hat lower over her face - but that face now belonged to another woman. She watched as her skin adopted a deeper, coppery-Hispanic tone. Her body... her body didn't care about politicians, social mores, it wanted to be fucked.... so deep, so harrrrd! And she would die without a man's seed jetting within her! But what... what to do? Can't have sex on the bus, the humans would all know, they'd send the army/marines after her! Her body was rebelling against her mind, wanting to keep trying out different forms, until she found one that got her fucked! And it was dangerous; shifting would use up DNA, she'd starve faster. Unless it worked. Unless she could drive a man to ravish her here! On a public bus! Was it worth it? The military could capture her, but she'd live to be captured! And soldiers, what if she could lure some of them between her legs, like that Giselle Shifter! What was she going to - DL-DLEEET - It was her smartphone! (pay as you go contract, since Shifters had no legal identities) Nora gulped. It was... Leila! ********** Leila's heart skipped a beat as she heard the motorcycles slowing down. She thrust out her chest, ingrained Shifter instincts compelling her to posture herself. The manhunt had been fairly sparse in the town where she and her BFF (to borrow the human expression) Nora had been strutting their stuff. They were supposed to remain in contact via cell, each one promising to ring the other at the first hint of horny men seduceable by Shifter charms. Which was pretty much any man with a pulse. But these motorcycles, this biker gang, it was as though they were slowing down just for her! If they only knew... Leila in her natural state was a statuesque, raven-haired goddess just a bit too busty for any of the high-fashion runways her ravishing aquiline beauty would otherwise qualify her for. Not that there was much future in high-fashion, or porn it seemed. On the prowl, she often appeared as the spitting image of European internet pin-up beauty Denise Milani, a delicious sample of womanhood very close to Leila's natural state. As usual, she seemed to be wearing an outrageously skimpy black bikini, and black high-heels. Her bikini straps were actually transparent, exposing sweeping terrains of creamy womanhood that had gotten her nearly arrested - but well fed, in neighborhoods where the humans foolishly attempted to send male cops after Shifters. But her real talent was revealed as the bikes drew closer, and words seemed to write themselves on the luscious slopes of her ripe ass.