3 comments/ 26421 views/ 26 favorites XXXecil's: The CockOut Bk. 01 By: xxxecil The Kid would never get laid at this rate. Xavier frowned from the booth where he nursed a martini intended to make him appear fun-loving. But he wasn't here to get wasted. This - watching men trying, and failing to pick up chicks was his job. One he was normally better at. His client, a stuttering and pimple-faced ginger IT geek blundered something about 'how did you dye your roots that-that color?" Xavier groaned. Negs had to be delivered with more confidence than that! Had the kid learned nothing from the two-grand he'd spent for the seminar? Leaning back in his chair, brushing his shoulder-length jet-black out of his eyes, Xavier went over in his mind the terms of his no-refunds policy. Future reference, longer lectures maybe? No... What they needed was experience! Maybe he needed to hire a hot babe during the seminars... to demonstrate the techniques on. Would that help his clients visualize it better? Still, despite the impending disaster; the hottie his guy was chatting up seemed remarkably patient. She was a perfectly tanned Latina lovely, muscled thighs that seemed to call attention to the sweeping curvature of her ass-tastic posterior endowments jutting from the confined of her fire-engine red cocktail dress. Her tits weren't the biggest he'd ever seen, but their perky perfection sized to cry out for a man's cupping hand to seize them in lust. The midnight river of her hair so dark it shimmered; and she seemed bemused by ginger-boy's fumbling attempts at seduction, but was not pulling away as Xavier expected. Yet Xavier was garnering attention of his own. The sizzling eleven on the chauvinistic ten-point beauty scale that hip-swayed up to Xavier's booth could have been Latina-lovely's twin. But she was in the proverbial little-black dress. Too little, to contain those tits, strategically bulging from their scandalous V-neck confines. "Hi." She cooed. Exciting as this should have been - Xavier actually wasn't here to get laid himself; the job was coaching newbies in the art form. Yet, the very nature of his business demanded a certain response. She seemed to be eyeing his martini. "Sorry Pumpkin, I don't buy drinks for strangers, I'm not that easy." he replied with a wry grin. "That's okay, I just need your opinion..." She beamed. He noticed her face for the first time, sharp - elegant nose, bee-stung lips; silvery eyeshadow contrasting with her deep tan. Definitely on the prowl. And yet - he had to keep an eye on his client's progress! (Or lack thereof) But that was when Ginger-boy made a failed attempt to build touch-rapport, and spilled his drink down Latina-lovely's cleavage. Horrified; he jumped back as though he had scalded her - but Xavier shook his head: Even that blunder could have been salvaged - had he only appeared confident enough! But realizing his mistake; Ginger's lip quivered and he actually ran away from the girl and his own shame. What an amateur! But then... that's why he'd hired Xavier. "It's like this," 'Pumpkin' continued. "My sisters all say that my Ass isn't big enough! I need a man's opinion!" With that, she turned to present the controversial posterior towards him! The hem of her black dress seemed to rise up of its own accord, permitting Xavier a scandalous vista of bulging buttocks beyond belief, slick and sleek enough to bend the strobing lights of the nightclub upon her bronzelicious skin. Holy shit... this chick wasn't wearing underwear! "You like my ass, mister?" She asked with apparent innocence - then in a sultry growl: "I think you'd better touch it. Just to be sure." Hips thrusting to give her rear that extra bounce. "I need to know for sure; that's why I need your hand on my cheeks. Touch me, squeeze me..." her voice lowered to a growl, buttocks settling into a rhythmic jiggle of suggestion. "I need to feel you... feeling meeeeeee!" Pumpkin moaned. Okay, well - no doubts about it... "Right Pumpkin, I get that you're a professional; but I'm not in the market tonight. So if you'll excuse me - "He rose and evaded the lurid proposal on display to rejoin his client. No need to be overly polite to a Pro - she knew the score. Pressing through the seats with Martini in hand, he paid the hooker no more attention. He found Ginger-boy panting in a corner. "Okay, I won't pretend that was good; but we can let this be a learning experience," Xavier began. The nerdy client was too nerve-wracked to speak, but simply nodded in acquiescence. "See - if something unexpected happens; you have to show you can step up to the plate, and won't wilt under pressure," Xavier continued. "So if something like that happens again, just run with it! You've got to show more assertiveness if you -" But his coaching was interrupted... By Latina-lovely. She'd followed Ginger-boy back to his hiding place. "I'm sorry; I didn't think we were finished." She announced, hair tumbling over the caramel wonderland of her bare shoulders and jutting cleavage. "What you did to me isn't fair..." What? Was she coming back to complain? Why not just walk away? Xavier wondered. "Not fair... to get me so aroussssssed..." The cocktail-dressed marvel purred as she arched her spine, bearing her throat to Ginger-boy in a primal gesture of surrender. "Y-wh-wh-wh-uh - wah?" Her target stammered. The kid was hopeless. And yet... "Look at my breasts..." She said in a voice that was more of a demand. That had to be a first! "See how hard my nipples are!" Amazingly, it was true: Her tenting nips were alarmingly blatant through the fabric of her hot red dress. Her arousal on display. "And it's your fault!" She accused her red-headed would-be suitor. "Look what you've done to me!" She continued in mock-outrage. "Feel... what you've done to me!" She took his shaking hand in his, and pressed it to her amply jutting juggs! The fabric seemed to swim out of the way, and Ginger gave a yelp of surprise as this tan-tastic uber-hottie groped herself with his own hand! "I can't walk around like this!" She protested; "My nipples so hard; my pussy so wet for you!" "Wu - who - you - wh- uh - me?" "Feel my nipples pressing into the palm of your hand; and think about what you've done to me! And how you owe me relief!" With that, she pulled him to his feet - and towards the EXIT! "Per-FESH-unull!" Xavier hissed through clenched teeth in warning at his charge. But Ginger didn't even hear him - not surprising; given this working girl's aggressive approach. Oh what the well; the kid had cash to burn, so this could also be a learning experience. Maybe it was time to cash it in. In about an hour, miss hot-thang would demand cash - he'd be shocked, and a lesson would be learned. They'd talk all about it tomorrow. "I know what you do," Came a familiar voice from behind, once the groping couple had slipped out the back. He'd had this discussion before. "Look Pumpkin, I'm not making any promises I can't keep - it's all legal. Not like you're one to talk!" He rolled his eyes. "Because you think I'm a Prostitute? That was my mistake, I realize." He arched an eyebrow. "You... Xavier Cecilman, you've made a career coaching men that can't find love - teaching them new ways to speak and carry themselves so that women will be impressed." He raised a finger, prepared to defend himself and his business model. "I want to be your next client." "Say what?" ********** Eight Years Later - "I have to know for sure;" He insisted for the umpteenth time. "Waste of time!" January hissed from the passenger seat of the Cadillac, where the former porn star cradled her pregnant belly. But Xavier didn't want to have this argument again with his... partner. Business partner. In addition to the excuses he gave about wanting to expand his new operation; well - Truth is he was missing having other guys to talk to! Yet as he approached the cement steps leading to the front porch of the modest two-story; there were already tell-tale signs of what was to come. The surrounding houses - new construction. Expansions. A nearby townhouse was being renovated. They seemed to prefer circular chambers these days. Houses being expanded on a circular floor-plan. In his heart, he knew the odds. Once a few houses in the neighborhood got this bad, the others wouldn't hold out much longer. But he had to know for sure. There was no resistance at the front door - there never was; especially not for a man. The merest glimpse was enough. Had to be a dozen in the living room, among themselves they were mostly nude. But Xavier didn't stick around to do a head count. He just shook his head, resolving to leave. No need to even ask, no need to engage them at all. He tried not to look. Yet he was noticed; like always. Only two followed him back out the door - that told you something about the level of Infection. "Don't leave yet!" She insisted, scampering after him in Lucite high-heels. He shouldn't have turned to look. Skin like buttermilk not-quite concealed in a gauzy travesty of an almost bath-robe. Not intending to hide, but to provoke a penetrating gaze. Her hair curled in frolicsome auburn locks around a glamour model face flowing down to cleavage beyond the most generous push-up bras. "Wait! Don't you know that you can fuck me!?" Her tone incredulous. "I get it." Xavier replied, even as he realized the danger of engaging them. "Then where are you going?" The gauzy beauty wondered. Her voice dropped to a growl. "You know... that once you fuck me - you own me!" Her lip quivered as she began to fondle her own feminine melons. Posturing, she bared her body to his lingering gaze. Hands beneath her bosomy assets, she moaned with the need to offer herself to him - a stranger. A man she hadn't even known existed just ten seconds ago. Yet this glam-tastic beauty goddess was groaning with the urge to surrender her sex to him. Fondling her jiggling assets as if to set an example for his own hands. "N-not interested!" Xavier stammered; his heightened pulse putting the lie to his words. "I can feeeel your lust..." she hissed; groping herself. "There's nothing to fear - from fucking me." And that... was the biggest lie all day, Xavier knew. "Just bend me over, force me to bear your seeeed... and I'm yours!" There was a part of him that forgot why he should be trying to escape. Xavier didn't trust himself to speak, it was all he could manage to shake his head. "You think you know... but you don't," the gauze-draped sexpot continued. "You don't know how much you would enjoy claiming me as your fuck-slave." She knelt down, crawling cat-like towards him, lips reddening - he could see the blush in her cheeks from her throbbing nymphomania. "Too much pressure," came a cooler voice to his left. She was a black girl, smoothly supermodelish with the complexion of a chocolate-dipped anchor-babe. Her fire-engine red bikini tenting with her aroused nipples. "A man like you... not interested in another commitment. So just use me; just one fuck - just for release. Vent your male urges inside me." Her hands slid up her wide-hipped splendor. "Just sex, just for now." That... was a lie, and a trap. Xavier didn't say. But it wouldn't stop there; if jaw-dropping beauty wasn't enough, there would be mind-games. They would say...do...become anything. Always experimenting with new ways to get men to fuck them. "Won't... won't fall for it." "Fall for what?" Auburn-hair wondered. "I'm promising the best sex you never dreamed possible!" She swayed her hips, hands trailing through her shining locks. "Own me, rule me, sire your seed inside meeeeee..." she breathed. That was when her skin grew moist. Like body oil; almost on demand a wet rivulet began to trickle between her breasts. That was a clue to what was really going on... Xavier ran. Back to the car. It could happen with anyone. Any man remotely capable of mustering a hard cock would have gotten the same treatment from those two. For a man like him - it was strangely demeaning. But it wasn't over yet - he had to find the others. Even though he knew - without going any further, that his old buddy was lost forever. ********** Eight years ago - "So there's no mistake..." Pumpkin took a wad of bills out from within her cleavage, and slipped them into Xavier's breast pocket. "I'm hiring you. To help me with a man." "Seriously?" A chick looking like this?!? - What was she even doing in this town? With her looks?! Why wasn't she a movie/porn/fashion model/star? "Tell me the words to say - words that will make you fuck me. What do I have to say to get you to drag me out of this club by my wrist...?" Her voice lowering to a hungry growl. "Take me... into an alleyway, to your car's backseat. Words that will send you out of your mind with desire, words that will get you to slam me hard against the wall - to thrust yourself inside me..." Her lips moving closer - hot breath singing his ears. "So hot and bothered; that you ravage me with your aching shaft - so harrrrd, your need so Hot; that you don't even know whether I enjoyed it." Her hand was slipping into his pants. "Tell me what words to say..." Was her cleavage deepening? Where those bronzed globes - constrained by a deliberately too-tight dress firming, ripening, enlarging right in front of him? No... Couldn't be - he was seeing things! "Wha - I - I'm...' Now Xavier was stammering! "Are you trying to say you're not a... Working Girl?" "That depends; if being a Prostitute means you won't want to pin me to the wall with your cock - then I'm not a Prostitute." She took an adventurous sip of his Martini. He swallowed. ********* Eight Years Later... January's hazel eyes blazed with an implied I-told-you-so. Hand upon her gravid belly - full of Xavier's child. He would focus on driving, didn't want to argue the point with her. "There *could* still be one left who didn't give in." "Uh-huh..." Every inch of her porn-star body skeptical. "But you believe me, don't you? If I can hold out, there could be others!" She pursed her lips... about to speak - but stopped. January needed to believe that he could hold out; she wanted her child to have a father, he realized. To argue too stridently in the negative would put everything into question. The next house didn't show as many outward signs; but... as soon as Xavier was in the door, he realized his mistake... The interior walls of this house - not the outer ones had been renovated. It didn't make sense to build separate rooms for separate people - when it was all about one man. The floor had been rebuilt into a series of circular terraces leading down into a bowl shaped indentation. Pillows and silken sheets draping everything. And there were women. Alone, and out of sight of their male victim they were nude. Nude, nubile goddesses of such glamorous perfection, that they simply couldn't be real. No living woman could be so perfectly flawless in her every feature as were these invaders. But within immediate reach of their target, they adopted a variety of enticing affectations. Jewelry, this bunch preferred. The man at the center was surrounded by dangling tits and cooing lips graced with golden necklaces, filigreed bracelets, and diamond-ish earrings. That was a quirk the invaders had adopted from real women. What had always surprised Xavier was the fact that the men never got fat. Because so much energy went into his cock. "Steve-O? Is that you?" But the man in the center no longer responded to his old nickname from his old days as a pick-up artist; he had all the women he could want. The pale, balding former accountant snarled as he arched his hips, pumping from beneath into a freckled redhead, honeydew melon rack jiggling with each orgasmic thrust. And there were nearly two-dozen others that Xavier could see in this room alone. On either side of him knelt a pair of sunny-blonde fitness models baring perky breasts covered in whip-cream and adorned with suggestive, sliced strawberries. Steve-O howled, shuddering with a thunderous climax that seemed to drag out to the point of absurdity... hell, the way he was coming - he might have filled a soda can; as long as it took for his detonation to finish. And with good reason. The redhead ululated her ecstasy, hips shuddering as she slid off... off - A two-foot sausage of baseball-bat thickness sprang free. And this raging perversion of manhood was still hard. Still aching. Xavier wasn't sure what was more fucked up; that a cock could be so large - or that these women could take such a beast inside themselves? It was a mutual relationship. Steve-O reached over with quivering hands, to pluck a whip-creamed strawberry from the left breast of a honey-haired supermodel with a pointed nose. A coffee-skinned Mediterranean beauty queen moved from the surrounding gallery, cooing as she wrapped her grapefruit-sized boobage around the rampant shaft of her lover-victim; treating his cock as a stripper pole with her undulations, bending the shaft towards her moistened cunt before impaling herself. The others contributed to the overall ambience. A milky-skinned Asian with a body for Hentai and unusually plump lips cradled Steve-O's head and whispered something about 'Your virility is god-like...' At the same time, a chestnut-haired cover-girl with high-nippled breasts lavishly kissed his belly, moaning: "You are a god to us, great Sire!" Steve-O's reply was lost as the coffee-skinned beauty thrust herself upon the outrageous shaft amidst wet slurps of cunt-drenching arousal. It was all he could do to moan with whip-creamed lips. "Oh...oh... fuck... fuck so good... so...fuck!" Steve-O managed in his eroticized delirium. And the others postured, hair cascading as they bared their bodies - a queue of sex-crazed sex-kittens each clamoring to be next on the cock. But others were tending to household chores. Sweeping, dusting, and cooking. A beauty-marked blonde with the face of a movie-star was wiping down a table in the nude, with an absurd French-maid lace bonnet upon her head. But it wasn't 'so good', despite Steve-O's mutterings. His mutated manhood had become a non-stop sperm factory; and that was the whole point. In the depths of his limitless libido, Steve-O would groan, make a crude hand gesture, and the next achingly erotic glamour-goddess would line up to receive him for yet another insemination; eagerly surrendering to his grunting sexual whims. Because these weren't women... Weren't human. Something alien... - That feasted on sperm. An apparently well-fed one was reclining on a bean-bag chair, reading a COSMO, with a copy of Playboy on the floor as she fingered her own sex. As she studied the air-brushed lovelies, her hair brightened from raven-black, to burgundy, to platinum blond. The curls whipping about of their own accord into various hairstyles, from Bob-cut, to beehive, to Bun. She tried out different breasts - too; from high and perky, to heavy and hanging, to conical and erect-nippled. Teasingly, she stuck a finger between her melons as they ripened before Xavier's eyes to completely obscure the finger within a plumping canyon of growing cleavage. Not Good. It wasn't good; because now Xavier's buddy would never again work, never travel, never produce anything but cum - never wear pants again. A sex-drive so consuming; all he could do - even think to do was wallow in the pleasure of his harem. By design. That was how the aliens wanted it. Every man able to muster a hard cock lounging in ecstasy and feeding them the sperm they needed to survive. "Would you like one?" Offered a wide-hipped lovely with hair the color of chocolate, she offered a platter of cream-cheese hors'deuvres. She sported an apron which read "FUCK THE CHEF" and nothing else. "Cheese, Quiche, or me?" She offered cheerfully - and sincerely. XXXecil's: The CockOut Bk. 01 "I'm... no, I - don't." Xavier attempted. But his hand reached for - no! He knew better than to eat anything offered by one of them - Greek Myths of the Lotus Eaters came to mind. "You must be under a great deal of stress;" cooed a strawberry-blonde runway model naked except for the chocolate syrup she was squirting from a bottle onto her own delectable tits. "Why don't you take a break for just a moment?" She advanced towards him; his heart pounding with each of her dainty steps. Her face had a Cindy Crawford likeness, but with fuller, bee-stung lips aching to be kissed. And her eyes. They... Xavier wasn't sure what color her eyes were - something about looking into them, they seemed to dance between shades and hues. Something compelling about her eyes. "W-who?" He was having trouble organizing his thoughts. "My name is Passion. My sisters and I are concubines for men's pleasure." Well, that alone told Xavier they weren't human! But there was something wrong, he was having a hard time remembering... "Don't be alarmed by what you see here. Just think about my eyes." The storied orbs danced with subtle colors. "And my body." Passion pushed him to sit down in a cushy chair he hadn't noticed before. She began cooing, those multi-colored eyes staring into his... Gentle hands - seemingly from the cream-cheese waitress began to massage his shoulders. "You know that your pants are too tight," Passion insisted, Strawberry-Blonde hair draping like flaming strands as her delicate hands fumbled with his zipper. "T-too tight?" Xavier murmured; lost in the flashing pools of color within her eyes. "So much better to have your dick free... your beautiful dick!" She drawled, stroking his face, smile angelic. "D-dick..." Xavier echoed without thinking - those eyes... "Your dick is too large, too powerful to fit into pants like these. Wouldn't you prefer the feeling of a beautiful woman's hands on your shaft?" her eyes boring into his, her head nodding; Xavier mirroring her own motions. "Don't you want my slender fingers pumping your shaft? That's what you want; isn't it?" "Pump... shaft," Xavier moaned - still trying to figure out her eyes... "You like the idea of a massive cock, so hard... long... you're hard for me, I can feeeeel it. Feel your manhood." Passion purred, Xavier's face between her hands. Those eyes - something... strange. "Look into my eyes, and feel your dick getting harder, and harder." Looking into her swirling eyes, it was as though he saw some miraculous secret of the universe, only to forget it immediately, compelling him to keep staring. "Your dick is soooo hard! Full and throbbing and bigger." One hand moved to tease his errant shaft. "When your dick is as hard as this, there's no need for pants." Passion argued. "N-need?" Something was wrong... but her eyes - "A hard dick needs to be freeee..." She cooed. "That's what's wrong with your society." "Wrong?" Something was certainly strange; but Xavier couldn't remember it. Just those eyes... "You are a virile male." Passion purred, bringing her lips closer. "Your society has males and females in close quarters, and you don't fuck them." "Fuck..." Her hands; her eyes... felt so good. "No, because you're afraid of hurting her. That's a mistake." She declared. "When you see a fertile female, your cock gets soooo harrrrd..." She drew out the last sound with grit in her voice. "Fertile..." "Yessss... like me. My hips are wide, my skin so smooth and soft, my breasts so firm, and ripe and suckable. It's natural to want to pin me to the wall and fuck your sperm into meeeee..." She suggested; a kaleidoscopic gleam dazzling. "So natural; to slam your dick into meeee..." She cooed, stroking, caressing... letting the words sink in. "Because my body is beautiful; not just my eyes, but my lips. See how rich, full and plump my lips are? Like a mashed strawberry. Sooo kissable. You want to kiss these lips, don't you?" Xavier moaned, making a puckering motion. "As sweet as that would be, even better would be to force my lips onto your cock!" She suggested. "I know your nature, you want to face-fuck me!" "Face-fuck..." He drawled in his delirium. "The need... to grab me by the hair, and press these lips - this mouth onto your dick. And you get to cum. And cum all you want." Xavier shuddered with delight. "My sisters and I represent freedom. A man's freedom to feel his dick hardening; and seize any woman he pleases, to force his sperm into her. Freedommmm..." her voice lowering to a growl. "You want to sire your seed, into every woman you can grab!" His hands tightened around her hips. "Freeee your dick!" "Wanna... be free..." he murmured as his pulse raced. "Your dick is beautiful; even more than my tits. You love my breasts, don't you?" The mammalian spheres dangled tantalizingly. "See how high, full, and perky my breasts are?" Xavier gurgled. "Look at the rivulets from the chocolate syrup as they flow around and between my breasts. See how chocolatey my nipples have become?" "Nipple..." He answered with a groan. "Let your hands travel across my body, my wide hips, smooth skin, and my ripe breasts." She offered with a low growl. "You crave my body; I'm your type. Just the type of woman you want to bear your seed." "Seeeed." Felt so good. "My breasts can talk." Passion informed him, continuing her hypnotic bombardment. "Looking at them, touching them will tell you how fertile I am, how ripe my body is for your sperm." Her voice dropped to a manic whisper - eyes swirling in mind-bending sarabande. "Let's make a bargain;" The Strawberry-Blonde seducer offered. "You get to suck my chocolatey boobs allllll you like," She blew a hot breath against his throat. "And I get to suck your cock." "Cock?" That seemed fair. But there was something important Xavier was forgetting; something about her eyes... "Get rid of your silly pants, and stick your dick between my full, red, kissable lips..." As the Cindy-Crawford-esque beauty slithered over him, two others - a dusky brunette and the same freckly redhead that had just gotten inseminated minutes ago came to either side of him, cooing, caressing his hair. "Then you can cum," Passion promised, her finger tracing the line of his chin. "Mate with herrrr," Cooed the girls on either side of Xavier. "Mate with meee...All the women you wannnnnnt," Purred the waitress/chef as she cushioned her breasts against Xavier's shoulder. "Fuck your seed inside herrrr..." "Cum in my mouth as I suck your glorious cock!" Passion offered. "Cummmmm!!" Xavier grunted, pulse throbbing as his hands began to plunder the curvy contours of his lusty abductor. "And I can tell..." She added, "That you've enjoyed us before! Why stop now?" Why stop now? "FUCK...SEED... INSIDE HERRRR!!" Ironically, it was their previous captive that saved Xavier. For the moment, all the women near Steve-O had been inseminated; and were lounging in contentment; but their victim could not be satisfied. Apparently, the dirty-talk had backfired. Steve-O let out a roar of primal lust; if anything his two-foot dick was even harder, hornier from his virile exertions, and he surged upwards. His center of gravity was fucked up (literally) and he loped like an ape up the terrace of his remodeled living-room harem, his cock dangling, anchored to what seemed like a pair of bowling balls, his male apparatus mutated beyond all reason to gratify the alien's ongoing need for more and more human sperm. Steve-O snatched Passion by her hips; with a wolf-like howl as he plunged his fleshy torpedo into her confines with a lurid slurp. Her own squeal was a match to his desire. That snapped Xavier out of his trance; the certain knowledge of the price for temptation. The chocolate-dipped alien whore had over-played her hand; trying to seduce Xavier, her words had sent her current stud into a fever pitch. But the distraction allowed Xavier to regain his senses. Unlike Steve-O, who didn't even seem aware of the newcomer; all that mattered was blasting his seed into the women of his harem. Not women. An alien plague. Trying to stuff himself back into his jeans, Xavier scrambled for the door; shocked at how close he'd come to succumbing to them. Out in the car, he ignored January's grumblings; he wouldn't let her know how close he'd come. That house had almost become a double-harem. But January didn't grumble for long; she'd switched on the car radio: "... Radio Free Earth; exposing the secrets of the Invasion!" rasped a quavering female voice. "Men think that these creatures are their loyal servants; but they are Loyal only to their most probable source of sperm! We know this much about their physiology; the alien's cell machinery is unable to produce their own DNA effectively. For all their powers, they perish without a ready source of genetic material - and uh ... copulation with men is the easiest strategy..." "Ugh... heard it all before." Xavier complained. "Maybe you need to be reminded of the dangers!" January countered, turning up the volume. "... perfectly adapted to absorb sperm to sustain themselves! For them, Sex *IS* life!" The female announcer's voice seemed to teeter between exasperation and disgust. "Living only so long as they seduce a male donor on a regular basis, a competitive ecology has emerged where this new lifeform must evolve to seduce." "Can't we listen to NPR, or something?" Xavier complained. "You wanna go harem shopping, I get to pick the radio station!" "That's not what I..." but he shook his head. Not much point arguing. "...from an ancestral shape-shifter, they've speciated right in front of us! Evolving biological weapons as the need for increasingly scarce men accelerates the competition between different Strains. Sirens may be the most dangerous, with their ability to resonate directly with a man's pleasure centers; but any Free Men out there have to be concerned about the Medusa strain. It's the eyes; they're able to generate a hypnotic pattern that disables human reasoning faculties -" Xavier switched off the radio with trembling fingers. "It won't take long..." "No, it won't take long at all..." She responded cryptically. For them to seduce him? He didn't ask. ********** I should have known better than to hold out hope for G-Man, as the car parked outside his residence, and I timidly approached the door. Maybe it was more than just checking on old buddies in the hopes of them joining my business... A part of it was closure. Despite bitter experience, I was hopeful that the interior of the house looked... almost normal. Without the circular renovations the large harems preferred. But then I heard noise from the place where the backyard should be. It was a fairly large dwelling; dare I imagine that G-Man had been this successful on his own? But the backyard... had been replaced. It was not only a swimming pool, there were fountains, and a terraced patio adorned with two Jacuzzis. All for the pleasure of a single man. An onlooker could be forgiven for believing that Xavier's old buddy had somehow been awarded his very own, permanent swimsuit pageant in his yard. Apparent-women strutted and sashayed for his entertainment; when they weren't slithering through the bubbling froth of the hot tubs to regale their man with cooing kisses. But the illusion didn't last long. A busty blonde with a quarter-bouncing ass ran her fingers through her hair - which flashed into a fluorescent green electric color. Venus-Strain. Xavier knew their history - Descended from the same lineage that produced the Medusas. But Venuses had been thought limited to Latin America; but nothing would deter the quest for cock. But the more they succeeded; the more men they needed. This Strain was mostly flash and vanity; they out-beautied the competition with showy colors and festive behavior that other aliens had real difficulty emulating. They were a new species, evolving to compete by dispensing with human limitations in their appearance. Like fairy-land princesses kicked out for starring in hardcore. Flowing hair shimmered from darker, natural hues to ocean-blue, iridescent violet, to sunset red, bikini-clad bodies sparkling with the appearance of embedded glitter. Their Medusa cousins could stupefy a man close enough to look her in the eye, but a Venus could lure him in from afar. But either way, G-Man was doomed. Black men had been the first to disappear from public life in large numbers. The Scientists called it Libidovenom. Alien survival ensured. Just one fuck. Where was the harm? Nothing bad happened from screwing them; at first. But every little bit added up - death by a thousand cuts. You fuck one of them, your dick gets bigger. Never fails. Just a bit at a time. And of course, your sex drive amps up. And it feeeels good. Too good, Xavier knew. By the time a guy realizes the danger, it's too hard to resist. The throbbing hunger for pussy burns hotter than a high-school football team on Viagra. All too soon, every guy reaches his tipping point. G-Man's had come relatively quickly. He couldn't even close his legs from the girth of his mutated male apparatus; his meter-long manhood stood a good chance of impregnating a whale; as he shuddered his ecstasy on an inflatable raft, surrounded by swimming lovelies at every turn. Black men tended to be the first to Cock Out. Even had Xavier been able to get his old friend's attention; no pants in the world could fit him, much less the vagina of a human girl. But the Alien shape shifters could eagerly accommodate a cock that should have pulverized the insides of the loosest whore; with nothing but howling delight. Lost to humanity as surely as a victim of any plague of the past - welcome to the new epidemic. Xavier noticed a pattern to this harem; coffee or chocolate-skinned females, with a white girl thrown in at about a 1-5 ratio. Not unlike the most lurid rap music video in history. Aliens... adapting to the deepest cravings of their male target. A Caramel-colored hottie rolled her ass-cheeks as she gyrated upon the impaling potency of G-man's mutated member. Could be a stand-in for Jennifer Lopez in the right light; and until her jiggling G-cups bounced into view. Her dose of sperm sent her moaning in a narcotic ecstasy, as she slid off G-man; only to be replaced by an eye-shadowed she-devil with a rippling mane of hot-pink hair. Sexual madness that ended only with utter exhaustion; until their male victim was awakened by his own thermonuclear libido, to begin cycling through his harem all over again. But this time, there would be a surprise. The J-Lo knock off began groaning, as she struggled to emerge from the pool, then collapsed; clutching her belly. Xavier already knew what had to happen: The Alien had completed her life-cycle. Her belly distending into a rapid parody of pregnancy; breasts blossoming to match, rivulets of narcotic milk moistening the tantalizing tips of her nipples. Arching her spine, breath heaving - she rainbowed through the entire spectrum of colors, as her shape-shifting powers went into high-gear. But she wasn't giving birth - in the human sense. Soon, her gravid womb was larger than nine-months, full and throbbing with navel-popping life. Then, it began to contract. Tightening, sucking in. The dome of her womb began to shape itself... arms and legs in a fetal posture. Before his eyes, the pregnant belly took the shape of a huddled figure, and hair sprouted. Movement, a surge and a kick. The protean body of the Mother had now recast herself until there were two younger girls, joined at the navel! Hair and faces shifting in a rush of unformed identities, until the struggling pair pushed apart. Separating into a pair of pregnant coeds; each shape-shifted into a different girl from their mother. Both moaned as they clutched their gravid bellies; neither seemed senior to the other. The Mother had become her own children, now that she had absorbed enough genetic material from a male donor. The twins caressed their bodies in orgasmic aftershocks as their bulging wombs shrank down into tight, twenty-something perfection. Now, there were two. Two breast-augmented coeds nude and yearning to be fucked. Identical, the girls had exceptionally long eyelashes, and raven-dark cascading hair glittering with multicolored sparkles that accented seeming-eyeshadow that rotated through the cooler color spectrums. "Getting crowded, Sister." The one on the right replied. An unspoken understanding passed between the aliens, and the sister on the left crawled towards me. "Concubine. The Word. It burns inside me," She bemoaned; violet eyes pleading. "My name is Kitten; A concubine. A vessel for a man's pleasure. His Possession; used and dominated by my Man! Hungering... for a man like you!" I backed away, wondering why I hadn't escaped sooner. "Cum in me, and you own me. I want to be yours!" Xavier shook his head, not trusting his voice. "It'll be different for you, better for you! I need a real man!" Kitten held out graceful arms seeking embrace as her sister lined up to await a chance at G-man's cock. "I need you!" Kitten pleaded. When that didn't work - "I'll serve you! I'll fuck you! Make me your plaything!" Her nymphomaniacal desperation was... alien. "Don't leave! I know you want me! You craaaaaave women! You can have your desire! All the women you want!" Twelve days. The scientists had worked out the math. With a little regular food to add mass, if she got a good dose of sperm every day for twelve days; that could be enough - unless she exerted herself. That was enough for an alien to Natalize. Replicating into younger progeny that retained mom's knowledge. Harem gets big enough; the newbies split off, try to seduce men of their own. A Demographic Doomsday one orgasm at a time. "You want bigger tits! I can do that! Look at me; my boobs - they're growing larger right in front of you!!" Kitten alerted him, as he turned his back to her. "You WANT big tits! I know it! Look, look at the way my titflesh bulges between my fingers as they grow! Bigger than apples; getting close to grapefruit size! Look at them grow! Don't you want to see!? See how big my tits are!" Never. He dare not look. Dare not see how big her tits were. G-man, face buried in the tits of a peacock-green haired surreal sex-goddess, took no notice of the concubine he'd almost lost, amidst the tantalizing tangle of feminine bodies. He could only gurgle as his latest climax detonated. ********** He wanted to carry on, but decided to be cagier. Sure, January could pull me out if need be; but the last thing Xavier wanted was the nagging that would result. Still, he had high hopes for Jacque. When the true nature of the invasion became clear to my old community of pick-up artists, he'd always assured me that the kind of mindless eternal orgy the aliens promised just wasn't his cup of tea. Jacque always favored classy types - plus the Chase was everything. Xavier used to think so. He found himself on the verge of Chasing Jacque himself, walking under his own power through the front door of an art-deco style home. And yet; He had his suspicions. Instead of barging in the front door, better to case the joint. So Xavier stealthily slinked around the windows. No worries about the cops being called for a Peeping Tom; the few police left had neither the patience nor manpower for any kind of public decency enforcement. And there, in the window looking into the kitchen, He saw Jacque. A smile was about to cross Xavier's face when... Jacque's own face melted. The wiry baldness of the forty-ish fellow blended into a new form reminiscent of a transformation scene from a Michael Jackson video from way back in '91. Business suit melting back into smooth, feminine flesh. XXXecil's: The CockOut Bk. 01 That was how they'd spread so far, so fast. The Aliens copied the men they'd replaced in the outside world. Their victims writhed in fuck-madness back in a seraglio, while alien Doppelgangers assumed their public identities; unless and until the chance for sperm outweighed the risk of discovery. Otherwise, each of them began as female. SheMorphs. That was the name on everyone's lips. For the entire alien order of life that had come out of nowhere. The name that would have been spoken on the radio had Xavier listened longer. Verb and Noun. His friend from the old days had been replaced by a toned fitness model with coppery hair bouncing in playful ringlets. She swayed her hips in pleasure at resuming her true state. But it seemed the party would have to wait. The next window (A very large window) revealed the rounded chamber he'd expected, but there was no orgy: The real Jacque was exhausted. His baseball-bat cock was half-limp, and his eyelids seemed to flutter in a hypnotic trance. One of his lover-captors would whisper something; he would whisper back - while a gang of them crowded around. There were numbers. Mundane descriptions. It was daily life. When a man's mutated cock grew too large for him to ever move around in public; the SheMorphs seemed able to post-hypnotically ply him for intimate knowledge of his work and world as his body recovered from sweat-drenched hours of explosive ejaculation. Until he awakened finally - dick first. Meanwhile, they would mimic him, with none the wiser. Except Xavier. Wiser? Wise enough to know the dangers. Hmm... what Strain was this? The women were of a variety of shades and ethnicities; but all shared eyes of a striking cobalt-blue. Very distinctive. Charybdis. They shared a common ancestor with the often feared Siren Strain. They would be less dangerous at a distance; He should be fine so long as he didn't get a blowjob from any of them. But for the men who went willingly into their insatiable embrace; the captivity was absolute. Those not listening to Jacque's hypnotized narrative sat around in the nude, reading... reading? Poetry. Classical History. Philosophy? That must have been his weakness. Moaning nymphos would not have truly captivated this man; he wanted more out of a woman. And the SheMorphs had delivered. A few, or just one - had figured him out; become what she needed to. What he needed. Now he was damned. Xavier saw it all, through this long window that took up nearly half the wall in this bedroom. Even as he watched in morbid fascination; a bathroom door opened amidst a gush of steam. A voluptuous bombshell-blonde fantasy strode forth, nudity moistened by wet rivulets from the shower, her aquiline face somehow still bearing the appearance of mascara and blush. Against the curving wall stood what should have been a spice-rack, but which instead held an array of rubbery, doubled-ended dildoes, seemingly well-used. Unceremoniously, the Bombshell grabbed a thick, black instrument and impaled her own hungry cunt with the false shaft. Moaning, fingering her high-nippled F-cups as she did so. A nut-brown she-devil of apparent Indian descent cooed as she approached, kissing Bombshell's other nipple. The two nuzzled each other as though to commune in some secret language with lesbianism as a vocabulary. Their stud drained for the moment; the sexual beings took to other means to gratify their relentless urges. The brown girl could have been India's Miss Universe contestant; had her breasts been smaller. But here, she was content to take the dildo in hand, and work with lurid vigor into the drenching cunt of her moistened sister, as the Bombshell backed into the wall, birthing hips swaying with the raw, feminine pleasure of this phallic violation. Perhaps it was the sucking sound of Bombshell's cunt being reamed; the wet sound that told the story of how soaked with arousal her pussy was - but Xavier had reached his limit. "Shit! Back in the day; horny old men would've paid top dollar for this kind of action!" But those frustrated men had no use for porn in today's world: They were living it. That did it. Xavier had been confronted with a never-ending deluge of feminine pulchritude these days; yet this lusty display affected him like a teenager stealing a Playboy for the first time. And they knew it. Twenty cobalt-blue eyes suddenly riveted on the corner where he was spying on the proceedings. Shit; the legends were true - SheMorphs had a Sixth sense; a Sex-sense. When your life depended on dick, it made sense to sense it. Some SheMorphs; they would change in the presence of a probable male target - bigger boobs, tighter clothes - or ripe, cherry-red lips. Each girl's mouth grew pouty, redder, kissable. But it was worse than it seemed; He knew. Xavier had to assume that each SheMorph in the house immediately knew that a man was lurking by the southeast window on the first floor. An Aroused man. Apparently, they really could sense when your cock was hard. It turns out that the windows for this SheMorph house could open in sections; and Xavier found himself longing for the days when women actually resented Peeping Toms. They gauged his mood. "Please don't run!" entreated a supermodelish black beauty with eyebrows like wings in flight. Her naked, chocolatey breasts dangled like cocoa-covered melons in the air. "This man has a rare, medical condition!" Explained the Indian dildo girl. "We're... nursing him!" Was that the latest lie? They WERE the 'condition', a plague. "I'm not even thinking about sucking your dick," denied the blonde bombshell as she climbed gracefully out the window, one sculpted leg at a time. "It's alright;" assured a freckled red head with the largest tits of the group. "We can just talk." Her lips plumped as she spoke. "I'm not thinking about running my tongue along the tender underside of your cock head..." "...Until you cum in my mouth, in spurt after glorious spurt," finished Black Beauty. "We're not thinking that at all," The Blonde affirmed. "We can talk. Be friends. We like to read." She held her hands out gingerly, as one might behave towards a skittish kitten. Methinks the lady doth protest too much, Xavier surmised. "Uhhh..." Four naked women, baring their fuckable bodies in broad daylight, trying to keep *him* from being afraid! Was this how it began with Jacque? Did they befriend him? Act intellectual? Build trust? Until he let his guard down enough? Allowed them to unzip his pants - to suck his cock within those ruby ripe lips glistening with damnation? Until he Came. And Came again. Until the orgasms consumed him. Swallowed by Charybdis. "N-no, I won't let you suck my dick. I won't allow it..." Pants tightening, chest heaving. "You won't?" The Indian girl sidled up to the Voluptuous Blonde, licking her earlobe. "You're not interested in a blowjob from my sister here? Her name is Luscious. You don't want Luscious' lips to kiss the head of your cock?" "You don't want to feel my plump lips sliding up your dick, as the back of my throat ripples against your rigid shaft?" Luscious wondered with a facetious grin. "You don't want to grab my head," Black Beauty began, "Piston me against your dick as you lose yourself to the wet swirling within my mouth?" "... As you allow the pleasure to wash over you; face-fucking me as my flickering tongue bathes your rod in liquid pleasure?" Luscious queried, hips swaying. Next, the red head with boobs like honeydew melons sashayed closer. "So you have no interest in my mouth gulping air around your cock to produce contrasting sensations; as my lips slide back and forth along everrrrry inch of your moistened shaft?" Her wide eyes made her seem almost innocent. "You won't allow that?" Xavier bolted. Nothing more to see here. "Don't Run!" Luscious pleaded. "We don't have to deep-throat your cock!" "- or swirl your dick with my tongue until you explode with cum!" Black Beauty added. "We'll TALK!" It all added up; the dildoes. The Windows. They would flaunt their bodies whenever they could; able to detect in an instant the lusting glance of a man they needed to survive. There was a copse of trees out back, good place to get lost - and to bump into January... "Oh! There you are! I'm so proud of you!" Xavier's partner wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her pregnant belly brushing against his. Her wide-eyed, dimpled smile radiant as ever. "You're a good man; with real integrity!" She assured him. "I am..." she punctuated her compliments with kisses to Xavier's chest. "So glad... to have a husband like you!" She smiled impishly, hands cupping his balls. "I... wanna go down on you!" Her eyes sparkled with enthusiasm, tugging at his pants. "Yeah... thing is," Xavier paused. "I never actually married you." "What?" January looked up from her efforts at his zipper. "Miss January; an actual, prize-winning Playmate hung out to dry when our world was invaded by porn stars who would fuck any man for his sperm. Nowadays; a girl worth a million-dollar modeling contract can't even get a guy to open a door for her. Even after making headlines for toppling a U.S. Representative in a saucy sex-scandal." Xavier mused. "What does it matter? Today, any man who wants it can live out his days surrounded by supermodel sex-bombs aching to suck his dick." 'January' moaned with yearning at that thought. "But that's not what you want?" came a new, yet familiar voice. And there were two January's. One much madder than the other. The 'original' shrugged sheepishly. "You lying, man-stealing whore!" The newcomer accused with pointed finger. "Your whore!" She turned back to Xavier, from where she knelt on the ground. "Or your wife, lover, or fuckslave." "Just tell me what you want me to beeeee..." She crooned, her features blending like a Hollywood special-effect. She was a platinum blond with a bob-cut, wiry nude body. "Any kind of woman," Plumper, with bigger tits. "Whatever you dream of!" A pale, hauntingly elegant Asian." Xavier could tell that she was trying out various bodies, gauging what shape would most arouse him. "I prefer honesty." Xavier answered, wrapping an arm around the real January. The creamy redhead kneeling before him SheMorphed again into a caramel-colored Eva Mendes look alike, fresh from a makeup commercial, but with bigger boobs. "We won't hurt you; never hurt a man. Please..." The gorgeous goddess pleaded. "Just let me suck your cock! You have no idea how sweet it would be!!" Arms outstretched, skin glistening with lust. It all made sense. These aliens didn't seem to be... evil. They were just hungry; which was the same as being horny. Nothing was off limits. "Just one blowjob!" She pleaded. "I just wanna suck your dick until you have the best orgasm of your life...in my mouth!" They would say, Do, Become, Anything, or anyone for the chance to suck his cock. Or anyone else's. But as they sped away, Xavier caught a glimpse in the rear view mirror of the achingly blond SheMorph Luscious standing in the middle of the street. Nude. Horny. Licking her lips at him. ********** END BOOK 1 ********** XXXecil's: The CockOut Bk. 02 Traffic was backed up. Giving him time to think. Didn't really want to argue with January anymore. Nothing more to be said. Just thinking. Flipping through radio stations. A perky female announcer remarked on the latest government shutdown, he'd never paid much attention to politics before. But now? He brushed a strand of his long, raven-dark hair away from his sharp brow ridge. Another show; someone claiming to be an Army colonel assuring the audience that they'd found a new weapon against the Mimeticus invasion, at a secret research base in an undisclosed location. Mimeticus, part of a complex, taxonomic designation for the aliens. Xavier shook his head with a hearty scoff. Another secret research base. Made the crisis worse. The first purges had the aliens rounded up to those secret facilities; the Feds thinking they could be studied. Only made it worse. It was weird how little things had changed from attempts to fight them - instead of busty beauty queens trolling the streets for men, you had busty beauty queens trolling the streets for men and using preternatural powers of seduction they'd evolved in order to seduce the men who'd captured them. The purges had simply removed the ancestral shape-shifters without special powers of attraction. No one on the news seriously thought they could be eliminated anymore. Now, politicians were preaching tolerance - at least I hoped they were politicians; and not the SheMorphs that had replaced them. ***** The coed-aged Hispanic-tanned sex-kitten slithered across the hood of the car, moaning sensuously as she dragged a wet ice cube down the shuddering valleys of her heaving, bikini-clad bosom. Rolling over, she writhed as though making love to Xavier's car hood while balancing the ice cube against the jutting terrain of her bubble-butt. Glistening rivulets of moisture trailed down the photoshoot oil sheen of her lubed-up skin. On his side of the Cadillac, a saffron-complexioned Persian-looking girl turned her mesmerizing-ebony eyes on him, batting her calligraphy lashes flirtatiously, until she rose high enough to display oil-glistening tits bulging below and beneath a deliberately too-small pink bikini top that scarcely contained mammalian treasures just large enough to prevent his hand from encircling them without sinking into a creamy wonderland of jiggling titopia. Which he didn't try. Below her boobs was the - "FREE CAR WASH" hand-painted sign he expected. "The NERVE of these bitches! January snarled; adjusting her pregnant belly against the seatbelt. "Makes sense; they are Bacchanals, after all. Look at 'em." He reminded her. "I know YOU'VE been looking." January razzed with a roll of her eyes. "That's not... never mind." He shook his head. The Bacchanal strain first popped up in Miami, preying on horny beachgoers. Their lineage possessed a hyper-pheromone ability released through some kind of body oil that disabled human inhibitions. Every day was like a swimsuit edition lubed in glistening sex appeal. Like the auburn-haired whore at the first house he'd seen today... "They're not really dangerous unless you're close enough to touch them." He told her. With car windows rolled up securely, the pair was safe from their lusty powers. All they could throw at him were curvilicious female figures sparkling with wet trails of dripping lust - not to mention beauty-makeover faces panting with their need for seed. The juicy mutants had utterly dominated Miami, supplanting the original SheMorph infestation after the second Purge. Down there, probably wasn't one man out of ten-thousand that didn't spend his days gurgling in ecstasy as he hosed his sperm into their slickened cunts. And now the overflow from their slippery harems was spreading like an oil stain through the warmer States, evolving faster as they feasted on the sperm of the unwary. Xavier wasn't worried; knowledge was power. Just don't get within five feet of the bikini-licious hottie slick with body oil. You could see the danger, if you knew what to look for. Compared with other strains, they had the same mix of ethnicities, yet tended to be more muscular. Less like runway models, more like fitness models. The word from government whistleblowers described a secret Army base built beneath the Everglades where thousands of their sultry ancestors were stored and studied. But the Brass fucked up - literally. They horribly underestimated the need for female guards... and the men were... men. Until they weren't. With sufficient male admirers, a single SheMorph could natalize into eight offspring in a month. Any mutation that aided her ability to lure lusting cocks would ensure more and more replications from horny soldiers that took the posting as a joke. And she would beg for your dick. As it turned out; you could fuck her once, no real harm. Not only that, it was great. Best sex of your life. And since once was cool; why not do it... do her - again. Maybe once more. And she'd thank you like you were saving her life! You were. And there's only so much constant flattery a man can take from a jaw-dropping goddess that should have been Playmate of the Year. But once you made a habit of your dick in her cunt, you were doomed. Then one day, the soldier would wake up, and find his dick didn't fit his camo-pants anymore. Before he knows it; he's addicted to her - and there's no hope of not fucking her... just one more time. But then, on a top-secret black-box base, multiple shifts... and EVERYONE knowing they could have a quickie with the achingly erotic prisoner... All the sudden, she becomes pregnant; and in minutes there are two of them. And it's all downhill from there. Each top-secret base became an evolutionary pressure-cooker where those that survived were the few mutants more seductive than their sisters. Those best able to arouse a man's libido beyond all reason could feed, and flourish - and escape. Radio-Free Earth was back - "... with a special guest! We have here Agent X - whose prefers to remain anonymous - with his firsthand account of the true dangers of the SheMorphs, and the way that our government has failed us! "Thank you Judy, I'll never forget her... it... the Subject. They kept her in a glass tube, the eggheads running tests all day; they were excited - learning all kinds of ten-dollar words about her biology, and... We let our guard down. The science-team, and then the guards... we all learned how to loop the camera feed, so no one would know that we were sneaking in quick fucks with the - " "Please restrict use of graphic language as much as possible," The host admonished. "Uh... right but, wow! She would'a stole the show if they'd made her the Sports Illustrated swimsuit cover girl! And we knew she was in there, naked - all the time. Getting so excited whenever a man was in the room. Tanned, leggy, those eyes, and the way her tits would -" "Yes, we get the picture, how did the facility become compromised?" The host re-directed. "Just a matter of time; she was a blue-eyed blonde when the scientists were there, then after hours - once I saw a janitor come in, and she darkened her skin and hair - started speaking Spanish. She'd become whatever she had to and... I promised myself I wouldn't but, I'd been arguing with the wife and... "You surrendered to temptation." "Damn, it was the best uh... sexual activity I ever had. No woman ever wanted it so much as when I was... uh... with her. She didn't mind being our prisoner, she just wanted us; wanted men. I lost track of how many times I'd... been with her. And she got pregnant, but it just took minutes! She split into two girls! God! So gorgeous! Can't stop thinking about them!" "What happened then?" "Had to hide her! We were only supposed to have one! Tried to smuggle her out! It seemed like such a good idea; she was persuasive, Bacchanal strain probably, the scent of her! Other guys... started doing the same. Just that one, with the men fu- erhh... engaged in sexual congress enough for nine Natalizations that I found out about." "But you didn't report this activity?" "No! I was guilty too! Too many of us were. The Brass; they didn't get it. Underestimated everything. It's not only that they're so... willing. But it's the idea of having one, possessing her as your own. Just too easy. Once containment was broken, there's no telling how many others slipped free..." "And there were just enough female staff to get the project scrubbed," The Host announced; "But by then it was too late. The men assigned to protect us surrendered to the pleasure of their harems, all descended from the most seductive mutant." Angrily, Xavier switched off the radio. What made it worse was that people thought the problem was under control; the purges had removed them, so we thought. And the Army didn't admit the boondoggle until it was far too late. So by the time the first few flirtatious fugitives hitch-hiked their way to Miami (feasting from horny truckers the whole way) no one suspected alien infiltration - that problem had supposedly been fixed. So all the guys on the prowl thought they'd gotten lucky when the hottest babe in the bar went home with them. Next thing a guy knows, his dick won't fit in his pants; and he can't stop himself... with her. Easy meat. All you had to do was NOT resist the packs of predatory porn-stars dripping with supermodel glamour on their relentless quest for cock. Replaced with a doppelganger. Succumb to mind-shattering bliss in the arms of your replicating harem. The Bacchanal strain was multiplying...spreading...fucking. And that was just one species. "Summer is ending, and with Bacchanals, their seduction strategy is less effective in the colder months..." I supplied. January scoffed. "So this is their annual big push to get enough Cock to tide them over Winter." she sneered. But however much they got, they would always need more. "They've got no choice after driving the Strip clubs out of business." You used to get a lot of their kind in places like that." Xavier reflected; "Rub a pair of pheromone-oil tits in a guy's face - and it was all she wrote. But now? Any man these days that would've been into that sort of thing got just what he wanted, and cocked-out years ago. "Their kind, Bacchanals... that was when I first realized how serious this was," January offered, eyes far-staring. I knew what she meant. Years ago, we'd all been glued to our TV's when the South Beach feeding frenzy made the news. Hundreds, thousands of oil-slicked alien whores rutting with animal abandon upon the raging cocks of every man in sight. Their kind were the first to screw naked, in public. No shame. No restraint. No condoms. The South Beach Frenzy was their breakout moment. Hundreds of procreating pairs, shuddering in orgasmic ecstasy. The newscast tried (almost successfully) to blur out the bouncing breasts and torpedoing cocks of the copulating couples. Near the shore, there was a line of glistening female asses like a stadium wave undulating rhythmically as the Bacchanals rode the cocks they'd lured with bra-busting beauty, as well as mind-bending sex-musk. No one knew what they were facing then. Including the male cops that attempted to arrest the slippery law-breakers; but to arrest them - you had to touch them. Be close to them. Smell the hyper-pheromones that did things to the male human brain scientists hadn't thought possible. Xavier still remembered the sight of that Miami P.D. cruiser- wrapped around a telephone pole. The cop actually thought he could arrest three of the glistening beauties, and put them in the close quarters of a squad car - and remain in control of himself. In moments, wrecking his vehicle ceased to matter compared to the lust-musk from the she-devils that fucked him. Men trying to arrest them only added to the orgy, which spread on the backs of besotted men being screwed from on top in broad daylight. But not Him. They wouldn't get to him. "They think they can get me to leave my wife for..." I stopped myself - of course January wasn't my wife, but the aliens didn't know that - or care. I detected a blush from my pornstar-girlfriend-business partner. "Er... that's what they're thinking." I added unnecessarily. January muttered something under her breath about home wrecking alien bitches. This from an ex call-girl with the politician-ruining client list. Always easier to see the mote in the other (wo)man's eye. It was hard to see the expression on her face, with Ice-cube girl waving her string-bikini barely-clad crotch at him from the hood of the car. "Does a lioness care about breaking up the family of a gazelle?" I wondered out loud. To live for love. Sex was both desire and survival: Too long without fresh DNA and a SheMorph would lose control. Of everything. It was... quite a sight. But in the end, they'd die. How could such a creature feel guilty, when the sperm of some married man could save her life? "You... you don't need them." January insisted, but then she got a mischievous grin in her long-lashed eyes. "What do you..." But I was interrupted. We'd been sitting in traffic for quite a while; and she wanted to stick it to the SheMorphs... in moments his pants were unzipped and for the first time this week - it seemed she actually enjoyed sucking my cock. It was a cruel, womanly revenge - January feasting on my manmeat in full view of the hungry seducers. Outraged shock chiseled on their beauty-queen faces. The Persian girl actually moaned with frustration as she saw the rigid prize she was denied. Bikini tops vanished and swelling boobs pressed against the glass of the windows like raisin-studded pancakes. "Oh, nice..." Jan went to her fellatio with unusual enthusiasm. But I didn't need to let the SheMorphs in; their lurid enticements enhanced the experience of having my dick sucked by my ex-porn star girlfriend. They'd already demonstrated their sex-sense; the way a shark could smell blood from miles away, alarms went off in their heads whenever a man was aroused. So a moistened beauty with chestnut hair and dimply cheeks did not surprise me as she scampered up to the car. The newcomer panted with hysteria at the hunger kindled by the blowjob she was sensing. The passenger side window began to fog with her frantic breath as she looked in on the sex denied her. It was interesting; to push the aliens to their limits; as velvety waves of undulating delight washed over my member. January purred between my legs; heightening the sensation. In between the writhing beauties in front of me, I happened to notice a balding, 40-ish cubical wage slave in a Camry in front of me in the gridlock. 'He' doused himself with bottled water while unlocking the Camry's driver-side door. The door opened to reveal a dripping wet jail-bait sex-kitten with slicked-back chocolate hair twining playfully near her kissable lips. In the old world; every million-dollar modeling agency in New York would be beating down the door of this aching beauty - but in this sex-drenched present; she was about to beat down mine. As well versed as the aliens were at masquerading as the men they replaced; they could never ignore the possibility of a fresh fuck. I didn't know, and scarcely cared what man-eating mutation the newcomer boasted. And yet... I groaned as the fellatio continued, smiling as I reveled in the spectacle. The SheMorphs' desperate seduction only enhanced the stimulation of the blowjob... But that was when the traffic jam let up. "Give you something to look forward to," January teased as she disengaged with a wet pop. Xavier hit the gas immediately, despite his erect frustration - heedless of the squeals of the displaced SheMorphs clinging to the car. He also tried not to think about the pair of men's pants flying in the breeze after being jettisoned from some other vehicle on the road. ********** His car was more than a Cadillac; and in the end, Xavier was optimistic - confident he could avoid the fate of ... damn! They were getting bolder! Near the south side of town, he couldn't help but stare at a pack of Sirens and the prize they'd snagged. The radio warned about their strain quite a bit; and he'd taken the information to heart. Unlike the poor bastard at the stop sign to the right of the street where he and January drove. But Xavier's ride had protections built in. This guy, he seemed like a Japanese businessman driving a rental - and odds were, he'd never drive again. That was the furthest thing from his mind right now, undoubtedly. But closer to his cock was a Siren. The moaning she-demon squeezed shut her eyes in a rictus of rapture as she pistoned herself upon the cock of the man she straddled, even from afar - the wetness of her sex still gleamed. This strain had a signature look serving as a warning; they mostly resembled ivory-skinned Slavic beauties with glossy hair blacker than the night sky. Light and dark in dick-hardening contrast. Though a SheMorph could adopt virtually any human form, Sirens most often assumed this appearance when not exerting effort. Some genetic relic from the sexy mutant that seduced her way out of whatever black-ops lab had failed to control her ancestors. The rumors were true; their shapeshifting ability had adapted to the point where they could modulate their voices to produce exotic sound waves that could affect human emotions. If Mr. Tokyo made the mistake of driving past with the windows rolled down, it would be just a matter of time. As the first Siren pumped up and down upon her man's hidden cock upon the hood of the rental car, her sisters slithered around him, caressing - cooing. Mouths open as they sang haunting arias that set his nerves a-tingle. A few altered their bone structure to resemble Asian women; perhaps to make him more comfortable - but their willing victim scarcely noticed; as his lover moved his hands with her own to encourage him to grope her delectable breasts. Bending over, she put a nipple into his mouth. But this milk wasn't for nourishing infants; it was another chemical weapon to make a man a prisoner of ecstasy. Watching closely were roving orphans spilling out from harem overflows; watching - hoping for a shot. Xavier has seen this before. The Nature Channel. Lions on the Serengeti. Crowding around their kill. Jackals and vultures lurking on the fringes, hoping for a turn. But it was not to be. Three larger sirens, close to the end of their Natalization cycle stood guard to repel street-dwellers that might try to horn in on the catch. The first Siren threw back her head, releasing a blast of sound that cracked nearby windows in her reactive orgasm. They came from cum. In more ways than one. Nothing else mattered once a man erupted his seed into her aching cunt. Sperm was passion, pleasure, paradise. Shuddering as she slid off his member to quake in her own feeding-orgasm, their target was not left alone for long. Another dark-haired sister immediately inhaled his dick and began to pulse her throat as she sucked him off. By constantly exposing his cock to their alien hormones, he would gain length and girth just a little faster, the reports indicated. Others, crooning as they slowly dragged him towards the backseat of the car. Their man lost in a toe-curling world of scintillating sin that left him delirious with delight. Dick a little bigger, harder, on his way to become as much a sex-monster as they were. The whole harem would work his cock, fuck-sucking him as they sang him to sex night and day. Each time; a little bigger, little hornier. Just to feed the aliens the genetic material they needed; all day every day. If they kept the pressure on, poor bastard would cock-out in a week; and not even care. But Xavier did care. As did a lot of other smart scientists still trying to do something, anything to resist the Invasion. Sirens were a known threat. And there were safety measures. XXXecil's: The CockOut Bk. 02 The Cadillac had been treated with a polymer matrix that scrambled exotic frequencies of sound (He didn't know all the technical details). But it prevented the type of attacks most often used by the Siren-strain. Subliminal suggestion. "Dick is hard, so hard. Dick is hard..." came a ghostly voice from the passenger-side window. Outside the car, it would seem like ghostly crooning to set his nerves a-tingle, but the scrambling matrix blunted the mind-bending effects; with a result that the Siren's actual intended commands came through! At first, January almost chuckled at the prurient innuendo. But as they continued down these side streets, her anger mounted. "Ditch the wife, Ditch the wife, Free to Fuck!" Came an unveiled subliminal command. Sirens were lining up on the street corner, in an earlier age they might have been mistaken for hookers; but there were so many; and well - they were just too gorgeous to be human prostitutes. They could focus powerful sound waves at the vehicle even at high speed. Even without being married to January, the brazenness of their adulterous innuendo still set his teeth on edge! "Unzip my pants! Dick so hard! Unzip!" Shaking his head, Xavier reflected on the fact that Sirens used a different tactic than other mind-benders; A Medusa would use her mesmerizing eyes to assert her will upon the man she needed to fuck her. But Sirens operated in a roundabout way... "Redhead in Fishnets! I wanna fuck!" "Cum in her cunt!" "Brunette Ponytail! She's Gorgeous! Fuck her hard!" "Bear my seed! The whorish alien females sang at the car window, hips swaying, breasts bulging in and out of lingerie and bikini tops, Salon-styled hair framing makeup-commercial beauty as their faces flushed with unrelenting lust for the man they could detect with their arousal senses. The seduction had to come from within; each wanted him to believe that it was his own idea to mate with her. It had to sound like his own voice, inside himself - giving him the idea to succumb to them. From a nearby convenience store, the blond cashier scampered outside as the Cadillac neared; uniform melting away as she She-Morphed into a statuesque Italian beauty queen barely clad in fire-engine red lingerie, lean arms outstretched as she crooned of rapturous pleasures that could be his. They were taking over human jobs left and right. "Sexier than my wife!" "Fuck Sirens again! Again! AGAIN!" "Oh, you sick little alien bitches!" Snarled January, clutching her pregnant belly in an unconscious expression of anxiety. "Fuck any woman! Any woman I want! Every woman!" "Freeeeee..." That was perhaps the biggest lie; I'd be a prisoner to pleasure, but still a prisoner. "Orange bikini top! Need to mate with her!" No, he didn't! "Sire my seed! Fertile Female!" Came another unveiled innuendo. Fertile? But there would never be sons or human daughters; just more SheMorphs, each as nymphomaniacal as her parent. "Cock too big! Zipper busting! My cock is hard! Cock is Hard! Sooo hard! Fuck them all! Power, I have power! Power to fuck! Fuck them all with my huuuge dick!" They subliminally suggested. That was what *they* wanted; to corrupt him, infect him, until his giga-dick was too huge, horny, and hanging to do anything but ejaculate into his alien harem until his mind melted and his heart exploded from the pleasure. Then, the hundreds of new SheMorphs spawned would just seek out more studs to start the cycle of sex-madness over again. "Dick too big! Bigger Dick! Dump my wife! Dick too big for her!" A huge-assed brunette crooned, edging out onto the street to sing this covert message through the windshield of the Cadillac. January seethed with vein-popping rage. "Ohh-hh... I am gonna take those bitches, and I am gonna-" "Ignore them, it's over now, and there's too many." Xavier advised. Some reports claimed maybe a billion worldwide. Soon, there'd be enough for every man to have his own harem - it would be the end of mankind. Not with a bang, but with an orgasm. "I know better than to be tempted, so stop worrying." Xavier insisted. Yet he still worried himself. Again, the Siren had said. Again. They could sense whether a man had... partaken before. The Medusas had known too, from the size of his dick. Not many men could hold out. Yet the technology to scramble their sound waves was well publicized; all that research on the SheMorphs did have some benefits. Yet the Siren strain was still building new seraglios. And how many more aliens would be spawned from the sperm of the Japanese Businessman? Knowing what they were really saying seemed only further enticement... It was then that Xavier cell rang. "Aggie? What's up?" His secretary, Agnes was indispensable. And old. Wrinkly and old. It was refreshing. "You asked me to call you about the construction?" "How's it going?" "Behind schedule. Foreman says it'll take another week to get the tunnel ready. At least, we hope it's still a Foreman." Agnes added. And not a deceitful doppelganger taking over while the real worker jack-hammers his mega-cock into a seraglio full of alien porn stars. "All that noise and smoke and hazard tape, I think me and Jan will eat out tonight." January grunted, arms folded with a worrisome frown. The very necessity - much less the affordability would have been astonishing seven or eight years ago. But yes... given the nature of Xavier's new profession - it was necessary to have a controlled access tunnel installed under the streets in order to get in and out without being hounded. Back in the old days, getting City Hall to cooperate with a hair-brained scheme like that would be beyond the pale. But now? Now he was of the opinion that his post-retirement secretary was a necessity; no temptation if some slippery SheMorph tried to double her, as they had with Jan. January herself? He had to have her. She was proof of concept. "It's been a long day; no more checking up on the guys - let's just... get something to eat?" January acquiesced with a reluctant nod. Xavier tried not to think about the latest pair of discarded men's dress pants that flapped in the breeze onto the hood of the Cadillac. "Hard Cock! Hard Cock! Fuck them with my Harrrrrrd Cock!" ********** There was a trick to ordering fast-food these days; if you were a guy. Many minimum-wage jobs once filled by young, horny men had been replaced by the SheMorphs that had seduced them out of their roles in society. Willing to work for lower, and lower wages off the books - many human women were also being edged out of low-end jobs. Xavier knew that in such places, you had to fear the Ambrosia-strain. An offshoot of the lineage producing the Bacchanals; they were the reason a guy that relished freedom dare not order drinks at most restaurants. Unless you wanted it with milk. Ambrosias had (Most of the time) the biggest tits of all SheMorphs, owing to a hyper-active lactation ability they could scarcely control. But Xavier could spot them; they had the same ethnic variety that most SheMorphs did, but always with full, firm boobs at around basketball size bulging from whatever they pretended to be wearing. And restaurants; especially fast-food were their prized hunting grounds. He didn't need the radio to warn him about the consequences of one suck. A beauty queen with midget-smothering cleavage bares her tits at you? Run. Just run. One taste of Ambrosia milk and you'd spend the next two weeks in a wonderland of narcotic ecstasy, until you awakened with an elephant-raping mega-cock, while bra-busting porn stars fawned over you - as you ejaculated your life away. One suck of her nipples, and you'd be lost. So no drinks as January ordered at the Mickey D's drive thru. And Xavier tried to ignore the giant-titted Latina that beamed smiles at him from the drive-thru window. After a moment, the obviously alien worker turned, whispered something into her head set, and replied: "Please pull to the corner, there's a slight delay with your order." Well, not impossible, certainly. And they were hungry... Xavier tried not to think about the way one of her uniform buttons seemed to snap strategically; flashing a canyon of bronzed cleavage at him. But he had the inns-and-outs of Planet SheMorph mostly worked out. So there seemed no problem with rolling down the windows a little early. The alien with their order was only marginally too gorgeous to be working at a place like this. A curly-haired freckled redhead with a mega-watt smile. A bit of a Christina Hendricks likeness, but more precociously sexual. Tight uniform, but surprisingly small tits for an Ambrosia. Her nametag read "Vixen". Apt, it seemed - with a streak of piebald white through her hair, for an exotic twist. She said something he couldn't quite hear, while humming a pleasing tune that made him feel... feel... uh oh... Ambrosias. They always had the same bust size. Always. Vixen's own endowments were only barely too large for him to wrap his hands around. Not much bigger than pale, overripe coconuts. Too late, Xavier realized the dilemma - The SheMorphs were getting smarter. Varying their routines. Vixen was a Siren! Apparently, the mind-altering crooning her ancestors had evolved to seduce their captors could make a man lose track of time. Xavier realized that Vixen was leaning into his car window, unlocking the door so she could slide into his lap. It seemed she was wearing a real McDonald's uniform, not her shape-shifting powers - and her top was open, creamy breasts dangling in his face. By the time he began to wonder about January, Vixen was already kissing his forehead amidst soothing cooing, her hand down his pants to pump his aching cock. Pack hunters. A second siren, one of the dark-haired defaults for the breed - unbuttoned her fast-food uniform as her open mouth bombarded January with focused waves of comfort. She was trying to resist, but her face rapidly slackened as the crooning bathed her in pleasure. The Hispanic Ambrosia from the drive-thru window appeared, giga-tits revealed - as she thrust a nipple into January's mouth. Normally, she would fight back but... amidst the orchestral arias reverberating through the Cadillac, aggression seemed impossible. The sound of their singing, the beauty... like being submerged in a sea of serenity. "Stop fighting," Vixen suggested, stroking Xavier tenderly. "Men, and all your wars and fighting, and scheming. Just let go." She purred, rubbing his face down the valley of her freckled cleavage. "Open your pants, and let yourself cum." "N-no..." "Your fear is ridiculous. But we understand; you don't want to lose your wife. So keep her." Vixen turned his head towards Jan. His pregnant business partner moaned as she unbuttoned her own blouse, nipples blatantly hard. It seemed the Ambrosia milk worked as well against women as men. Two strains working together in a deadly symbiosis: Sirens to sing you into security, so the Ambrosias can dope you with liquid lust. Bait and switch. To circumvent a freedom-loving man's defenses. "It tastes... like rainbows... colors, pleasure... fuck." January rambled, eyelids fluttering as the devastating pleasure poisoned her mind. "Tastes... like a thousand orgasms. Like victory, like Fuck!" She shuddered, face reddening. Xavier couldn't see the Latina's name badge with her uniform thrown open, but he saw a grin of mischief as the intruder shoved a hand down January's pants. "See how wet your wife's pussy is becoming?" Vixen noticed. "We can all be happy together. Still, Xavier struggled to shake his head. "Keep watching her! Watch how sweet it feels! See - the way her hips are bucking; those are the mini-orgasms... right now," Vixen hugged him tighter; breasts squeezing against his nose. "Her nipples are hard enough to punch leather!" The Ambrosia stroked her hair, while the dark-haired Siren slipped into January's side of the car, and her lap - for lip-smacking lesbian breast play. She'd never shown a hint of interest in other women before, but now - she was delirious in a lusting ecstasy. Little huffs as she lip-locked with the ruby kiss of her cover-girl captor. "Look! They're humping against each other!" Vixen alerted him. "She's going to cum, and cum again - over and over!" As she spoke, her hands pumped his own throbbing cock with increasing rhythm. "And so are youuuu!" She promised with a growl. "You get to share the joy with your wife! Both of you...*pant*... cumming together! Orgasm at the same time!" Again she pumped his dick, already moist with precum. "Then, you can make us your harem. Suck our tits, and share in the joy!" Vixen promised. "N-no... it's wrong," "But it feeels so good!" Vixen reminded him. "Just kiss me, fuck me." Xavier struggled against the suffocating comfort, turned towards January - had to rouse her, get her to fight back! But it was strange; it must have had something to do with the Siren's mind-bending seduction, but as January's blouse was torn open, and her creamy D-cups were revealed to lacy-cupped view, her jiggling orbs seemed to strain against their confines. The second siren gave a suckling kiss to January's breasts, tugging at the bra - which surged in a straining pulse - as if... as if January's boobs were somehow... growing? That couldn't be right, her breasts themselves weren't inflating with greater voluptuousness even as he watched? No. The Sirens, they were tricking him. Had to be. But then - there was a development. A Scavenger. The hope of a man about to be seduced attracted notice. A bikini clad Bacchanal with a figure like a breast-augmented WNBA player appeared at the windshield of the Cadillac, her platinum-blond ponytail bouncing as she panted in desperation. Her creamy skin gleamed with pheromone body oil as her wing-like eyebrows arched in desire. But the huge-titted Ambrosia moved to argue with the newcomer, as the tripartite hunting party tried to secure their new stud-prize. But the distraction was just enough. Xavier bolted from the car. Maybe not the best solution, but with keys in hand it was his best snap decision. They wouldn't hurt January - He was the Target. With the keys in hand, he could run - loose the pursuers on foot, come back to the car later. "NO! I'LL FUCK YOU! I'LL SERVE YOU!!" Vixen vowed as her prize fled. He'd been foolish. Thinking he could handle them. Thinking he could avoid them. It was just a matter of time before they got more aggressive. Fewer men on the streets now, competition would grow fiercer. Xavier ran, barely aware of his surroundings, avoiding onlookers until he found a nearby public park. Hoping to lose himself (and them) in the trees and bushes. Finding a likely spot, he resolved to call for help. Smart phone in hand, he decided to call Agnes... Aggie could give him a lift in a pinch. But when he opened a browser, his email service was up - and there was a message: A mass mailing from Radio Free Earth. Fearing - yet too curious too resist, he opened the email attachment; the message claimed to offer proof that the government's latest initiative to purge the invasion was doomed to failure. He shouldn't have watched. But he had to know. Had to know for himself whether there was Hope. The leaked footage in the video clip opened onto a dark bunker. With colorful pillows? The scene was a grim, high-tech secretive black-box base of some classified sort. Computer banks along the walls. And a mass of silky pillows in the middle of the floor space. Even from behind, Xavier could see the problem. She was one of the Venus strain of SheMorph. Her flowing hair a sparkle of molten bronze. Rising on dainty feet, she disengaged with a wet slurp from a beefy sausage longer than a baseball bat. The Venus shuddered, running her hands down her sumptuous body in post-coital satisfaction. Her stud was an iron-haired, wiry man who should have been commanding this facility, instead he was a prisoner of his own mega-cock. He would have known everything. A full report. But facts didn't matter. He was still a man. Knowing full well she was an alien enemy, this General couldn't stop himself from fraternizing. Xavier could feel it himself; even through the muted medium of the digital recording. To see this goddess; that gold-dusted skin, radiant eyes, and fertile femininity so ripe with fecund promise... it would kindle an obsession beyond reason. The men in this base; they knew what she was - were sworn to fight her kind. But that didn't mean they could stop siring their sperm into her. Because once was alright. So twice was better. Then three - then ten times. If only they'd used more women to control them. No one understood the severity of the infection - until it was too late. Xavier felt his guts throbbing with a raging sexual hunger simply watching the fluid walk of the Venus as she sauntered nude towards one of the controls. It wasn't just her boobs, ass, or birthing-hips; every nuance of her anatomy somehow radiated feminine seduction. The backs of her knees were sexy. Xavier tingled with an urge to fuck her navel. The sexual parasite seemed to be taking a break from her phallic feasting to sit at a console, absorbing classified info with a look of amazement. Soon, she would sink back upon the General's cock for another dose of jizz, and when she had enough genetic material to Natalize, her offspring would know all the military secrets she'd just learned. But the stud wouldn't have long to wait... Seven other drop-dead stunners scampered towards the priapic general, each coated in food stuffs. "You have a wonderful Kitchen, my Master -" Crooned a violet haired sex goddess with golden lips. "We've each prepared different appetizers to cover our bodies with from our own cooking." "Please, suck the honey from my tits," offered a blond, gold-sparkling beauty. "Lick the caviar from my nipples," suggested a pointy-nosed SheMorph with fire-engine red hair. "Please lick the molasses before it sinks too deeply into my cunt," warned a jade haired supermodel as she fingered her sweetened vagina. "We hope you'll fuck first the Sister whose offering gives you the most pleasure, Virile Master." opined a raven haired SheMorph with rainbow body glitter as she adjusted a sushi roll on her navel, all the pseudo-women adopting a crab-walk posture, bearing themselves for their stud's pleasure. "RRRRNNNGGG... Fuck... All..." snarled the General, his epic manhood seemingly harder than before; whatever load he'd blasted into the bronzed beauty at the controls did nothing to diminish his bottomless libido. The phony submission. The servile sex-doll attitude; just another weapon in their arsenal of attack. The winner of this slobbery competition was a platinum blond with a pixie-cut, from her height - Xavier was able to guess that her time was near. The General's virile salvo into the depths of her willing cunt was enough, and the clip ended with the blonde's belly surging in an alien hyper-pregnancy, as the SheMorph began her Natalization cycle. In the intervening years the sexy abominations would milk him for every last sperm cell possible; until the day his heart exploded from an escalating cascade of soul-destroying orgasms; each more addictive than the last. But he wouldn't mind; gone were the cares of a military career - nothing mattered but fucking them, cumming inside them, sucking their porn-star tits. Then suddenly, a ray of hope entered the control room. A young, dark, African-descended corporal burst in with a pistol, shouting something that wasn't distinct enough for the recording to transmit clearly. The bald young soldier intent on his duty. Yet shaky. Insistent on the protection of the secrets of this base. But the General barely grunted, writhing amidst his harem. The young soldier barked a command, waving the pistol - until a whisper intervened. From behind him sauntered a glittering feminine fantasy resembling a pornographic version of Scarlett Johanssen. She put a hand to his shoulder, and whispered in his ear from behind. The black soldier moaned, but shook his head in defiance. Gun drooping in shaky hands. XXXecil's: The CockOut Bk. 02 Until the Hollywood-worthy beauty sashayed in front of him, putting herself in the path of the potential bullet. Her voluptuous splendor swayed in a dick-hardening stripper dance, dainty hands gathering up her platinum-lemon hair in a sparkling cascade; diamond-dusted skin glittering. Her words were muffled in the recording, but still came across: "You think I'm your enemy. What does your country do to its enemies? You conquer them. Occupy them. Pacify them. Me. Once you rule me with your dick, there's no problem." The tension increased; the young soldier, neck clenching, arms drooping. "Make my body your occupied territory. Invade my womb and become my Master." She crooned. The soldier's hips shuddered with a pants-tenting tightness that - "RRRRRAAAAHHH!!" The cry came through the recording clearly, as his camo-pants burst from within - black steel exploding in a virile rage - as the gun clattered unused to the floor. No doubt he'd already partaken - and would pay the price. The Johanssen lookalike ran her hands over her ripe buttocks; soon joined by the soldier's own with a throaty roar. Seizing the glittery temptress - he slammed her against the nearest cement wall - raging his lust as he impaled her with a near-foot of raging meat. Earthy dark enwrapped by sparkling cream as he rutted with a fury beyond human reason. She bent her left leg around his straining ass as he pumped her. But the next scream carried special import. Over the years, nearly every free man had occasion to hear this particular cry. Shuddering with impending orgasm; the Johanssen witch quivering her cherry-lips as she savored her ravishing, crooked smile from the knowledge of her victory to 'cum'. The howl started low, rose, and then slowed down into a relieved moaning - Xavier knew it immediately as the cry of surrender when a man succumbs completely to the prospect of a SheMorph harem. Stunt with a gun was his last gasp of duty. His primal moan cut off as the Venus lip-locked for a tongue-grappling kiss. Surrender. Something about black men; they seemed much more vulnerable to the aliens. And the SheMorphs knew it. Others, previously off-camera strutted towards the new prospect. Glittering goddesses lining up to worship his cock, flaunting their flawless boobs in salacious promise of the orgy to come. All the plans, schemes, and protocols didn't matter. Every man on that base knew. But they couldn't stop themselves. The aliens were more erotic than erotic. More woman than women. Male aggression didn't stand a chance. All he would have to decide now was the right rhythm of thrustings between his tongue in her ruby-red mouth, and his cock in her drenching cunt. With the crowd lining up for the black guy's cock, literally licking their lips at the bounty of sperm soon to be theirs, Xavier doubted the soldier could last a weekend before dickening to be just as big as the General. Just as lost to lust as the log between his legs fed the Invasion one mind-shattering orgasm at a time. He disengaged from his tongue-wrestling match with the Johanssen demon to unleash another primal moan of sexual surrender - but his cry was met by an erect nipple, as the beauty monster filled his mouth with a tit; within the hour he'd be addicted to her breast milk. Not the first; and certainly not the last. And in a base like this, already covert - the delectable devils had seduced their way into the perfect nest to spawn legions of lusty beauties each capable of starting her own harem on the dick of the next dupe. Him. Too late, Xavier realized his error. Watching the Venus-strain orgy had aroused him. And for them, it was like blood in the water. And he was the chum. Ironic that another Venus was the first one he saw. "You need my help!" shouted the latest SheMorph as she stepped into view from behind a hedge row. Her lack of total nudity surprised him. Her figure was an eroticized combination of chiseled fitness and busty bounty. She tousled her autumn-leaf multicolored hair as violet eyes shimmered. She was dressed only in clinging leaves that tantalized at the nudity beneath. "I'm your only chance!" "Wh-what? No, you won't trick me," Xavier rebutted. "There's no trick," She caressed her hips amidst a hypnotic swaying. "Your dick is harder than ever - you need my relief. My name is Eden. We shall become One Flesh." Her voice dropped to a gritty purr. "N-no, I know what happens to the men that fuck you..." he shook his head, fighting his own rising pulse." I won't listen to -" But it was already too late. Xavier felt a cooling breeze against his groin - followed by slippery wetness! What the - Crawling at his crotch was another SheMorph! Eden was a Decoy! Seven years ago, a woman with these looks would be an evening news anchor babe, but the plump-lipped Asian Wonder spent her time lurking in the public park, living as an ambush predator. Deftly, she'd unzipped his pants and gotten his dick in her mouth with an economy of motion he'd never believed possible. In the first microsecond, he understood why. She wasn't just sucking his dick; it felt like she was caressing his rod with three - no, four tongues? A Charybdis. They were combining their abilities, to snatch up the remaining men! Alone, Xavier would never have allowed some random supermodel off the street to get close enough to suck his cock, but with the Venus as a distraction... Alone, he could have resisted either of them; but Eden's surreal sex appeal had proven sufficient to mask the real threat! "N-no... won't let you..." He moved his hands to push the eager little Charybdis off him, but there was problem, his hands sank into the silken tenderness of her perky ass. God, she was hot. And... And... ohh... shit!! Sirens and Charybdis shared a common ancestor; and while Sirens used sound waves to alter emotion; their cousins had a similar weapon... A humming vibration caressed Xavier's entire body from within. Harmonic waves pulsed in a full body massage too sublime for verbal description. His mouth gaped open at the pleasure. "Never had a blowjob from her kind?" Eden speculated with a grin. "My friend's name is Blush, and she's special." For her role, 'Blush' gave a coo of acknowledgement as she pistoned her mouth upon Xavier's unwillingly rigid rod. "Her kind prefer to blow a man over straight sex; it's their greatest strength." But Xavier... he was a man! He was stronger! He wouldn't let them capture him - make him a mindless sperm-fountain! He gripped Blush's ass - to push her away. Push... push... fuck. His arms, knees felt weak. He should have been able to just throw the little slut off him yet somehow... he didn't. It felt... just too good. His traitorous limbs quivered under the bombardment of slippery ecstasy. Her blowjob - four tongues; harmonic vibrations that set every nerve a tingle - it felt too good! He knew the danger, but the rippling of her mouth, throat, lips and tongues brought such bliss, that he couldn't bring himself to return to the cold reality of not having his dick in her mouth. Now, he knew how Jacque felt. Once he'd dropped his guard around Luscious and her sisters, once they'd gotten his dick between their lips - it was a done deal. "I don't like this running, this resistance..." Eden argued, circling the happy couple as she stroked her multi-colored hair. "That's why I need Blush and her breed. The essence we use, to make men larger - the Charybdis have a special form of it," She smiled brilliantly, tickled his chin with a delicate finger. "Once you cum in her mouth - really cum, it won't just be the best blowjob ever; you'll find that your sex drive will be permanently doubled!" Makes perfect sense. He tried again, to pull away but... but that would mean this feeling would end! "I've been able to read and study," Eden continued, her violet eyes dark. "I've read your myths. Greek myths. In these stories; there are daughters of the gods, called Nymphs. Ever young, ever beautiful. They live free and nude in the wilderness. "In some stories, men chase them. Men hunt them, because their cocks are harrrrd."Eden panted, clutching her own ample breasts. "Men, virile enough - desperate enough to chase the nymphs, capture them - pin them to the grounnnnnd," The SheMorph became flush with lust, and already a wetness could be seen between her tight thighs. "I deserve it; need it! Need a man that hungers for my nude, tender flesh - to chase me dowwwwn..." Hair shaded her eyes as she glared at Xavier. "Because he can. Because he lusts. Because nothing matters besides making me his quarry... "AND FUCKING HIS SEED INTO MEEEEE!" Blush cooed; caressing Xavier's buttocks, as his mind tried to scramble for a way out of this predicament. As if sensing his intent, his own legs seemed to grow weaker. The pleasure of the alien blowjob was so sublime, his body didn't want it to end! Nor did she - Blush's pupils widened; and he felt her body shudder - the expression on her face made it clear that the attraction was definitely mutual; to her - his dick might as well be crack-cocaine rock-candy. Was it possible? A sexual entity that lived only to suck men's dicks until they exploded within her swirling mouth? It wouldn't be long now; he didn't have the will-power to break free on his own; that was the power of these monsters. Monsters. They didn't have to have claws or fangs. Beauty could be horrible. Beauty monsters that would devour mankind with delights. Biting his tongue in the hopes that the pain would bring clarity, Xavier realized that this was his moment on the knife's edge - if he surrendered; allowed himself to ejaculate inside the ruby-luscious lips of the sex-demon slurping on his manhood... he would never wear pants again. "Wait... y-you're raping me... to convince me to r-rape you?" "I don't understand that word," Eden complained, kneading her own ample breasts. "How is it possible to feel a man's virile muscles atop you - to savor his raging rod as it penetrates your aching cunt - to relish his white-hot seed as it fertilizes your womb - and not cherish the experience as the gift of life itself?" Monsters. "We don't want anyone to be hurt; silly man. We just want to mate with you. That's all we want." And that's all he would ever do - ever again; if he relented! The rising orgasm would be his doom - if he was lucky, he'd come to his senses two weeks later, with a baseball bat for a cock, fountaining sperm in whatever seraglio this gang had cooked up for their latest stud. "It's more my plan than Blush's. She'll do anything, go anywhere simply for the chance to suck a man's cock." "Mm-hmm..." The Asian girl confirmed with a nod, even as she rammed Xavier's rod against her epiglottis. And it felt too good to stop her. "N-no... won't let you... won't let you..." " - HAVE HIM!" Screeched a new voice from behind. Xavier felt a strong pair of arms from behind; pulling - yanking! POP! He was free! Free with a lurid pop from the captivating mouth of soul-sucking Charybdis. And he was wrapped in arms that were lean, feminine, and... Oily? Oily. With a nutty, cocoa, salty scent that... Shit! Out of the frying pan and into the fire; it was that Bacchanal - the one that had spoiled Vixen's grab! She was doing it again! "I won't hurt him; I just need to mate with him. So close," The blond glamazon hissed hotly in his ear. "I need his seed; need to procreate with him!" "Urrhh... wait your turn!" Xavier grunted as he struggled; trying not to breathe. For the younger ones, sex was survival. But this one, close to the culmination of her cycle - was driven by pure rut. Blush and Eden howled their outrage; and Xavier bolted - dick in hand as he tried to get the musky scent of the glistening slickness out of his mind. He had no interest in whatever reversal had gotten this newcomer kicked out of her harem. "It'll be better with this man! So healthy! I know his heart won't give out like my old Master!" The slippery blond SheMorph moaned as she reached for him. He'd dodged a bullet this time; while they were getting smarter - coordinating their efforts, the relentless competition for cock meant they could also get in each other's way. But he must never forget the fate that awaited the mega-dicked studs trapped in a cycle of escalating temptation within the poisoned paradise of a SheMorph harem. Death by a thousand cums. And dozens, or hundreds more she devils jiggling out onto the street to find their next cock. This is how the world ends; with an Orgasm. He had to keep running; he knew they could sense his lust, but could they track his movements in real time? He took a winding, twisting turn through the hedges and footpaths, scarcely knowing where to go - just needing to put distance between his amorous pursuers. And yet, as his cock throbbed - Xavier wondered whether he'd truly escaped at all. The Charybdis strain; they had to make the most of any chance to get a man's cock in their mouth, so the erotic venom all SheMorphs used was the strongest for them. Xavier knew the signs... The redness, the throbbing, the non-stop erection... the tingling in his balls. He'd been dosed but good! But there was a method to the madness; as his dick reacted to the toxin by growing ever larger, ever hornier, his enlarging shaft would soon grow so long, and no human woman could hope to take him inside herself! Then, as his libido went thermonuclear, he would driven to the arms - and cunts, of the Invaders; for an orgy that would doom him to an eternity of soul-devouring lust from which his pants-rupturing rod would prevent any hope of escape; if he could stop thinking of sex long enough to even dream it! He was able to navigate back to the street; whereupon he found the site of another 'kill'. The plates of the Toyota were from Nebraska; and a sandy blond farm boy had discovered a peril of the big city he'd scarcely dreamed of. A chiseled red head was staring pointedly into his eyes, as he was pinned down to the hood of his car - from the stupefied rapture of his expression, it was clear they were Medusas; and Xavier - for a brief instant contemplated a futile rescue. But no; plowing into a whole hunting party would only ensure that two studs were brought back to the Seraglio tonight. A chestnut-haired Stunner who belonged in a L'Oréal commercial was deep-throating his cock, while a black beauty queen was shoving his discarded pants down a sewer drain. He'd never need them again. The big harems took full advantage of their alien sex venom; if a girl wasn't fucking him, another was sucking him. As soon as he got hard, the next slut would impale her drenching cunt on his invigorated cock. With enough SheMorphs, growth would be optimized; ensuring the harem's prize could not go wandering. Did this kid have a clue how big his dick was about to get!? Most men were hopeless after a week of this treatment. With that L'Oréal cover girl slurping at his rod, Nebraska Boy was well on his way; after seeing a few of these feeding frenzies; you could recognize a particular quivering motion a man makes when he's out of his mind with SheMorph-induced sensual ecstasy. Xavier could only hope the kid didn't have family back home that needed him! From the side facing away from Xavier, a Stunner with extra-long eyelashes was writhing in ecstasy; apparently Nebraska boy had already cum once, and Xavier knew the telltale signs of - Another face! Another woman rose to meet the face of the eyelashed beauty in the throes of her alien replication. In moments they separated, rising on dainty feet. Xavier gasped; despite himself he couldn't help being impressed. Amazingly, the SheMorphs must still be evolving. Like a pair of caramel-complexioned Italian porn stars, they rose to caress their naked breasts and staggered him with their raw appeal. He didn't think it was possible for SheMorphs to become any more gorgeous; but these beauty demons radiated erotic glamour in a way that you could not believe without seeing it. All the better to compete for cock in this new world. "Holy... FUCK!!" With a jerk, he shuddered as his raging cock ruptured the tenuous confined of his zippered jeans. The button popped off like a projectile, and Xavier knew there was no hope of containing his rampant erection. He had to be... damn, over ten inches - maybe eleven by now. More vulnerable, more exposed. He would be forced to run through the streets with a steel-hard dick throbbing with the feverish need to penetrate a slickened female sex. Like the soldier in the recording. Would he do much better against that Johanssen Venus on tape? He tried to keep running; already knowing that the newly spawned Medusa would be hot on the trail of the lust they'd sensed from him. Shit - the way his body yearned for sex, it would be like floodlights at midnight to their erotic senses. "Please... I'll fuck you!" entreated the new SheMorph, only one was chasing him, her sister content to go with the sure thing. "I'll serve you!" Her voice caressed his cock. "Don't run; am I too ugly? Please, I can change for you - be what you what!" He could hear her footsteps; desperate for him. She was playing on his sympathies... but he dare not look again. Xavier could envision a day when every surviving SheMorph was so jaw-droppingly gorgeous that no man looking upon them could resist the need to fuck them - and once he did, the pleasure would surpass any achievement of natural human life. The Perfect predator - the end of humanity. Move over, Black Plague. "You need help," continued the new SheMorph, chasing him from behind. "Let me serve you, Master!" She would do it, too. Xavier realized. He didn't have to run; these aliens would do - say - become anything to get at his dick. He could rule them with it. There was a flash of anger, at society - the social norms that made it impossible for a man to just pass his seed into whatever fertile female he fancied. Maybe Passion was right. Unnatural, for men and women to mingle without siring his sperm into them. He could be a king! No! No, that was what they wanted! This wasn't him! He remembered; the Bacchanal that pulled him out of Blush's mouth - their pheromone oils could erode a man's restraint, until nothing mattered but her cunt. Blush had envenomed him with her libido-boosting blow job, and the mating musks of the blond amazon were bringing out his most ruthless, selfish instincts. In the end, was there any hope? What if he escaped, got a ride home? It wouldn't end. He'd underestimated the SheMorphs himself; thinking he could just avoid them and be safe. The stakes were too high; lust is life. They would need more and more sperm, and would just keep at him until some strain or other caught him at a moment of weakness - and his dick was still getting bigger! Which Strain would be the one to seduce him? Would he get too close to a Bacchanal, driven to rut his freedom away while intoxicated by her glistening sex musk? Her slippery juices lubricating the slide down to an ejaculating hell? Would he linger too long before the eyes of a Medusa, and spend the rest of his days looking at the chocolate-dipped nipples of his captivating captors? In a moment of distraction, would an Ambrosia slip a nipple into his mouth, lactating him into a lusting stupor where ballooning boobs held him captive to their bosomy bounty? Would he succumb to a Siren song; lulled into a libidinous torpor as dark-haired beauties mounted him in broad daylight like beasts in heat? Suck-fucking his ever-growing cock until their soul-enslaving symphony was all the music he would ever hear? He might drop his guard enough for a Charybdis to get his dick in her mouth. Once within that swirling portal of cock-flicking damnation, could any man deny the need to cum his soul down her willing throat? XXXecil's: The CockOut Bk. 02 Or would he be like the General? Knowing the risks. Having the choice; yet finding himself choosing to corrupt himself between the legs of a Venus? Unable to deny a chance to embrace that supernal beauty? Would he find himself screaming in his own mind as he failed to stop himself from lavishing her sparkling body with his tongue? Would he be clear-headed as he spurted away his freedom inside her hungering cunt? Seemed just a matter of time. Was there a way to turn the tables? His musing had a cost; in his distraction the new Medusa had caught up to him, literally pouncing on him, wrapping herself around him from behind, cooing and kissing. There was still a chance; he just had to not look her in the eyes, or face - shit; her glamour was almost supernatural! One look was all it would take... "I'm sorry they lied to you;" She began in between kisses. "They told you we're some kind of alien enemy. We hurt no one. We just want to mate with you!" He'd heard that before! "My name is Cinnamon. Won't you taste me?" She growled, nibbling on his earlobe. So easy. So easy to just give in. He could rule her. Control the little alien slut. He was smarter than the other men, he could get them to serve him. He could - Get out of the way!! A sleek red Lamborghini was barreling down on the pair at dangerous speeds; putting a lie to the gentle claims of the aliens, this was a deliberate threat! The fear was sufficient for adrenaline to take over, and he pushed Cinnamon off him, avoiding her captivating glance. The sports car half-parked on the sidewalk, and the passenger door was opened. Sweet ride, but again there was no denying it - The driver was yet another SheMorph. "I'm the lesser evil; you don't have a lot of options!" Insisted what was hands-down the most achingly gorgeous black woman he'd ever seen. The streets were starting to resemble a Victoria's Secret pageant as his male lust became evident to the hungering alien invaders. Car was a convertible; he could jump out if he had to, and the driver was alone. Not good odds; but better than his chances on the street. Struggling to shove his augmented cock down his ruptured pants; Xavier made a snap decision to hop in. ********** END BOOK 2 ********** XXXecil's: The CockOut Bk. 03 "Please don't jump out of the car," his chauffeur asked. "We are deeply empathic, and it would cause great distress if you injured yourself." Her voice was a near shout - to make herself heard over the roar of the wind. His chiseled pectorals heaved, the wind gathering a strand of his long, dark hair. "Not like you care, you're a predator - I'm your meat." "You have a lot to learn, big guy." She furrowed her eyebrows as if genuinely hurt. Her name was Rapture, (of course) and she came from a multi-man seraglio built out of the Mayor's house. The aliens would be running everything soon enough, as man after man succumbed to the spine-arching delights of a never ending orgy. Strangely, this SheMorph was actually clothed! The black cocktail dress was actually more striking for the contrast with the other alien women accosting him today. "Why did it have to be us; why Earth?" Xavier demanded; still fighting with his own dick. Rapture's proximity wasn't helping any. She was clearly a Venus, with a curious likeness to a molasses-misted Sofia Vergara, dipped in gold-dust. A bizarre black-blond exotic fantasy. In the sunlight, her hair cast highlights in the colors of sunset. "Because Earth is my home." She stated matter-of-factly. "No... There's nothing like you from here, you must be alien." He was trying to be deliberately adversarial - it seemed the best way to combat the covetous instinct to force himself between her taut thighs in the name of carnal release. Part of the reason he'd hoped in with her was because - as a Venus she had no direct mind-bending powers; she was simply glitteringly gorgeous in a way that defied nature. But he could resist! Xavier didn't have to give in to the gut-twisting hunger to seize her like a piece of pirate-booty that he might conquer her with his cock. "You're something else; from somewhere else. Where did you really come from?" "We came from men. From the eternal male urge to sire his seed into every fertile female he can. Where an opportunity exists; nature will find a way to exploit it." "Wh- that doesn't make sense." "Before men, there were no human memories. Instinct without words. There was simply the desire the sperm." Xavier rolled his eyes. "We all remember the sea. A coast. There was a man; younger - college aged. This man, our first man - he would masturbate three - sometimes five times a day. In various places. Through his seed, we Became." The Lamborghini made a sharp turn, heading downtown. Xavier was starting to get it. "You masqueraded as women to get this kid's jizz?" "Masquerade suggests intent. Planning. It was not until our Ancestor *was* a woman that an idea like that made sense. "The First man never questioned waking up to a strange woman in his bed - his dick was too hard. It didn't matter where we came from - he just fucked us. Our ancestor. It was a victory for him. The how didn't matter. "What do you mean - *us*?" Xavier wondered. "There was a first Ancestor; we share her memories. What she knew was shared when she became the first Harem. His words. TV. Playboy. Cosmo. We learned to think as women. To fuck." Given enough time, they would be smarter than any man alive, Xavier knew. All the better to seduce you with... "In ten generations a ship... a yacht came to the shore where the Man's beach house was. The harem was too large for the small house; and we were women enough to attract the man on the boat. Three of us went." On a ship they would have mobility, they could spread to so many beaches... Xavier realized with a frown. "The Yacht man was old, but rich. There were twenty-four of us by the time we learned about death." He shook his head. "Heart failure, you fucked him to death. The first casualty." Xavier sighed. "He never told us to stop. And he enjoyed every minute of it. That was when we knew we needed to find many men, to spread out." "Well not me, I won't go down without a fight." "We've never raised a hand in anger. My kind is peaceful." That, he realized was also a weapon: Not a direct threat, no need to retaliate. Until men spawned so many that fighting back was impossible. It worked. "From your tone and body language, it's clear you want to blame us. You think we 'invaded' you. But for our part, we know that man's lust created us. And we reward our men every day of their lives." The car sped past a gaggle of Sirens on a street corner. This... gave him food for thought. Rapture's narrative left a lot of holes, but he could read between the lines. Who planned the Black Plague? Was syphilis anyone's plot? Sometimes in nature, different factors line up in the right way, at the right time, and you have a breakout moment. An Epidemic. The ultimate venereal disease. "Don't be alarmed, Xavier. Don't think I'm going to hurt you." That was when she started to pump his cock, while revving the engine. The brilliance of the plan struck him even as his dick grew harder still - in a speeding sports car, trying to fight back, jumping out would be too dangerous; she could jerk him off with one hand, keep the other on the wheel. "Something you should know about me..." Her voice rose to compete with the wind. "The Mayor's house is a huge seraglio. Eight men in total comfort. Mayor and his staff are treated the same by the harems. Money doesn't matter to us." More proof they weren't human! He reflected ruefully. "And I can have all of their cocks. I have valuable skills; bring in a lot of money for the seraglio. So I get priority access to the dicks of the Mayor and his male staff, and wealthy friends. "That means I'm not desperate. I can get sperm when I need it. Not like these street dwellers. Then I realized that some men are better than others. "Men like you." Xavier swallowed. He should have tried something, anything... but damn - he wanted to cum; and they couldn't enslave him with a handjob? Could they? "Jusssst a handjob, just relax..." He gripped her arm but - damn he needed to cum! He didn't... didn't pull her hand away. "I don't want just any man," Rapture continued. "Some of us watch you. You specifically. The men that are still holding out draw attention." "mmmmnnnhhh..." damn, her hands felt good! "We know about you, your mission. The work you do. It... excites me! Not just a man, I choose you, Xavier Cecilman!" "N-noo..." but it felt goooood! The car slowed, lessening the wind which allowed her to talk in a lower tone. "Shall I tell you about my dreams? They're about you." Her thumb teased the tip of his raging dick. Xavier moaned. "You've pulled me away from my harem, because you crave my body so much. In your penthouse, you pin me against the wall, and I can see the skyline behind you; as you hike up my dress. I can feel your hands gripping my wrist, like now - and you take me harrrrrd. Hard and ruthless because you just wanna cum... inside meeee!" With her other hand, she reached inside her dress - between her thighs. "So easy... to get wet for youuuu..." She moaned. Rapture braced her knee against the steering wheel, guiding the Lamborghini as she performed sex acts with either hand. "You just need to cummm... inside me! You overpower me with your male strength. Helpless; dominated by your virile force! I... am impaled by the power of the pleasure of your ramrod cock as you SLAM your seed into meeeee!!" She removed her hand from her own cunt and whacked the car's horn. "I... am a sacrificial victim, offered up to the spurting power of your male lust!!" Her brow furrowed as she writhed her desire. Xavier roared, at long last - his long-suffering cock at last unleashing his white-hot reward against the glove compartment. Release. Delight. The shivering afterglow of satisfied endorphins. And She didn't move. Just smiled at him. "Y-you, you're not going to..." "To feast on your sperm like a junkie dying of thirst? No." She pulled the Lamborghini into the parking lot of a closed toddler and maternity store. Then straddled his lap. "I don't want more sperm, I can get sperm. I want the Man! Not just his dick!" With that, her blue-violet eyes glinted, and she began kissing him furiously; making a sensual cooing sound. That gave him pause - a SheMorph passing up sperm? Put still, the risks... the cost. "No, I won't give you-" "Instead of telling me what you won't do - first you should listen to what I have to say." Rapture held up an I-pad and opened a clip. "Remember when I said that some of my sisters watch you? Well they do more than that - we've picked up I.T. skills from some of our studs, and they've managed to hack the security system in your building." His eyes widened, "What the FUCK! But... wait... if you're telling me that then -" "Then it means I'm willing to warn you about a breach in your security. You're worried about one of us infiltrating your... unique business." The portion of the clip displayed on screen was the elevator leading up to Xavier's personal suite. A woman wearing high-heel shoes entered; but from this camera angle - he couldn't hope to identify her. "But that's already happened. By watching your camera feeds, we can prove that one of us is on the inside already." His blue eyes widened; this... could be big. That really was his elevator. Somehow, the SheMorphs really did have someone inside. In the end, Xavier knew he'd been a fool; thinking he could live in the city still, with so many of them. They would just keep at it. As man after man succumbed to the pleasure of a harem, the competition for the few holdouts would only escalate. But he'd escaped their clutches when they'd gotten in each other's way in their pursuit of him. Maybe it could work again. Besides, Xavier had been thinking that maybe he was going about things all wrong... "What do you want?" Rapture slid out of her cocktail dress, teasing with progressive exposure of her Double-D handfuls and a taut, chocolatey body. Sofia Vergara face shaded seductively by a blond flow of hair. "You want me to fuck you." He could do that. You could fuck a SheMorph once, and stay sane. But then, that's probably what the General had thought. Xavier understood the problem with Venuses: Exhaustion. It just got to be too much of a burden holding back the throbbing urge to fuckrape one of them. "No." "Wait? No?" "I told you; I don't just want a dose of your sperm, soon - but not yet." "Then..." "My breasts. See how high, perky and fertile they are? We're all so fertile, all the time. I'll give you the password to unlock the recording... if you suck the milk from my breasts!" Xavier gasped. That was how they trapped you! But... she wasn't an Ambrosia. All SheMorphs lactated, but Venus' didn't specialize in it. They were simply glittering goddesses of radiant glamour. Not an Ambrosia, it should be possible to stay sane. "Of course, you could conquer me. Fuck your seed into me, and take me back home as your concubine. We have an instinct that compels us to defer to the man that provides us with sperm." She offered with a cunning smile. A trap. Perhaps he wasn't thinking clearly. Perhaps it was the blowjob from Blush, combined with the pheromones from the breeding blonde. Or the unfortunate fact that her chiseled supermodel glamor was just so... exhausting! It was taking more and more energy to fight his instincts and not give in. So he placed his lips upon her plump, dark nipples - and began to suck. Rapture cooed, and stroked his hair. She hadn't specified how long he had to partake from her bounty, because that was up to him. Before the invasion, anyone able to bottle this up would put Ben & Jerry's, StarBucks, and Baskin Robbins out of business. The question was, after tasting her feminine nectar could he stop himself from sucking her dry? He might as well be drinking creamed cocaine. He knew the risks; you take a SheMorph home, she fucks you - serves you - doses your food with her milk; and the sex hormones that turn a man into a rutting sperm fountain. By the time a man realizes the trap he's fallen into - he's already addicted to her milk, and can't go two hours without raping his sperm into her. Next thing he knows, his bedroom has become a strip club, and HE would be the one forever bereft of pants. Already he could feel his balls tingling. No matter what else did or didn't happen today his cock would be larger come morning. Harder. Hornier. More sperm. More lust. Just as the aliens wanted. With a roar he disengaged. Shuddering with the pleasure of her narco-lactation. Sickened by the realization that the sexual yearnings he was failing to suppress would be even stronger tomorrow. Rapture postured, bending her arms behind her blond head, thrusting her still-moist boobs into view, cooing her own rapture. Giving milk gave them sexual pleasure; probably everything did. Not an Ambrosia, but her breasts seemed to plump up just then; shadows darkening on the way to her navel as she crept up a cup size to entice him to finish what he started. She'd be watching closely; learning the boob size that would best arouse his lusts. "Surrrre that's all you want?" "G-give me the information." He demanded, flushed - balls throbbing as he felt his sperm-count increasing even then. She unlocked her I-pad, pulled up the entire video - hacked from his building's own security system. "No way..." "It's your own feed." "Lies... gotta be... can't be!" "You always knew. Always knew it was her." ********** One Week Later... In baggy sweats, Xavier strode towards the elevator; passing rows of windows looking out over the city skyline. The entire building; this skyscraper was his. It was a rare serendipity that put him at the top of the new economic pyramid created by the Invasion. So here he was, in front of the elevator door. He no longer cared how much January protested. She had no reason to get all high-and-mighty anymore. But it was still difficult to take that final plunge. But his plan was sound - or at least, the best he could do; given the circumstances. He was too attractive, too much a prize. No way to go back to a normal life - he didn't even know what that would look like these days. The SheMorphs would get to him eventually. He often speculated on which Strain would be the most interesting to succumb to. But no; he had another idea. What he wanted to avoid was being besotted by some random street-walker and be whisked away to some far-off Seraglio to ejaculate his life away and never contribute anything to the world but a few hundred more SheMorphs. No... he needed to avoid that fate. There was a mad audacity to his plan. The SheMorph population was projected to reach a billion worldwide soon; repression didn't work. The militaries that resisted them only served to provide breeding grounds for more seductive variants. We could fight them, but it only took one man. The Last SheMorph on Earth only needed one man to shelter her, mate with her. In a year, as his cock enhanced he could breed a hundred others. They were as smart as us, maybe more so. And with modern transportation, the World would be their Bordello. Just one man willing to fuck a supermodel nymphomaniac and their kind could not be wiped out. No... He could make the new world order work for him - instead of fighting the sexy, sexy, tide. But this was a very special elevator. There was a small screen built into the wall next to it. A necessity. Of course his business was infiltrated by SheMorphs - always had been. But this was the first time he considered violating his own precautions. Any woman entering this elevator would be presented with a series of advertisements on another built-in screen on the left wall. Soon enough, it would flash an image of a man dropping his pants with a steel-hard nine-inch cock. None of them, not even the savvy ones could resist it. The lust cut both ways. The General couldn't keep his dick in his pants, (while he had them) and they couldn't keep their boobs in their tops. So their breasts would grow - often just a cup size; lips might plump, a coo of yearning - an invisible burst of mind-melting sex-musk, or her ass might plump up. Delicate sensors would detect it - and the elevator would open into a second lobby far away from any hope of a cock, and the SheMorph would be give a 'don't call us, we'll call you' excuse. Xavier's cell rang. It was Agnes. "HCG's came back. Six more confirmed." "Cayman accounts." "Done." "Better you never would've believed it ten years ago." Agnes supplied. No, he never would have imagined that he could get paid for impregnating women. Human women. It was getting seriously difficult to find a man - any man willing to go through the dating game. Why bother, when SheMorphs were throwing themselves at anyone with a hard dick? Then, it got hard to find any man at all. Normal women were banding together in their own tight-knit circles, it wasn't clear what the future would hold. Then there were the 'married' women who realized that they'd been sleeping with the enemy for months, while their real husbands had cocked out for a harem. It started out for the rich, but Xavier was thinking of ways to expand. And SheMorphs; they worked for sperm. Another call, from January. He ignored it. She had no right; not after what happened. The screen inside the elevator showed a familiar face. From McDonald's, it was Vixen. The redheaded siren. She wasn't being seductive really, she'd been crying - there was a desperation about her. Watching her for a time, Xavier came away with the impression that this was simply a last-ditch effort - at survival. There were hierarchies among SheMorphs, and he had to conclude Vixen was on the low end. It was still possible to see a man on the street for now, but the big Seraglios were building well organized operations to follow, isolate, and seduce them - as he'd seen with the Japanese Businessman, and Nebraska boy. Many SheMorphs just couldn't compete with the big man-hunting teams. This was her last hope. A pity fuck? But Xavier - his plans were bigger than that. She was on him as soon as the elevator opened. Moaning, kissing, pathetically grateful. Able to sense his hard-dicked desires through the walls. Melon-tits erupted from her blouse as she stripped away her silky pretense of civility. "Bear your seed, I'll bear your seed, I'm already your fuckslave!" She moaned. Xavier nuzzled her tender throat and shoulders, pinning her to the elevator wall - meaty hand struggling to hold her voluminous boobs. His gut twisted with desire; she seemed to understand the stage of contamination he was at, her words sinking into his subconscious. Women. They should bear his seed. He wanted to suck on her nipples; but he had something to get out before risking the intoxication of her sex-milk. Her panties were already around her ankles as Xavier's probing fingers found her sex. Her drenching sex. "We need to talk." "I am the vessel of your male des-" "Sperm," He interrupted. That got her attention. "But you have to work for it." She nodded, but she got his attention too - where a human would be skin and bones, a starving SheMorph was a vivid sight. She needed genetic material to grow and survive, without it - Her bouncy red hair shimmered into night-black with red tips, then blond tips, as her eyes flashed blue, hazel, then green on the left and violet on the right. And her tits; plumping up even as he fondled her. Xavier could feel the skin sliding past his palms as Vixen lost control over her body's breast-inflating fertility impulse. Without the genetic material from a man's seed - her body didn't know what to be. She was losing control of her shapeshifting powers. A panoply of women. Pinning her, raging cock teasingly poised before her juicing cunt he made his proclamation: XXXecil's: The CockOut Bk. 03 "I'm recruiting you. I fuck you, and I own you." "B-body and soul!" agreed the hungering alien whore. When he penetrated her slickening sex, she had become a raven-haired beauty, like most of the Sirens. "I'll cum in your cunt, but you have to say that I ownnnnn you..." "Y-you own me..." "Can't... hear you!" He tensed himself as her throbbing sex quivered around his penetrating meat - but she was a honey blonde with absurdly plump lips. "You OWN me!" "Again..." He grated, holding himself inside her, restraining his desire... "I'M YOUR SEXUAL PROPERTY!! YOU ARE MY MASTER FOREVER!!" Bemoaned the now red-and blond-striped slut with Native-American features. Xavier let himself go to the pleasure. But Vixen, he held her tight. Hands gripping her wrists, he hoisted her like a condemned prisoner against the wall, as he pistoned into her cunt yet faster. He allowed himself to suck on her nipples; knowing the dick-enhancing dangers of the narcotic lactate. As her breasts ripened around his face, he lost sight of her own protean features. Her skin had darkened to an olive-shade by the time he finally exploded within her. The white-hot river of pleasure gushed into her as he roared his delight. He wanted to hold her confined as he inseminated her; to communicate his possession of the lusty alien. After all this, he'd probably gain a half-inch of dick size by tonight! No getting around it, SheMorphs would get to him eventually, over time his cock would grow; but there was a way he could make it work for him. He once advised someone else that when confronted with the unexpected, you had to run with it. Can't wily under pressure. Not that his dick was likely to wilt anytime soon. "Life... Life... Hot. Throbbing Life. Inside me. Please rule us. She slumped into his arms, he carried her as she settled back into a milky-skinned Christina Hendricks red head. "Fuck me, yes - but we also crave the dominion of an alpha male." She moaned, looping her white arms around his shoulders. "Rule me as my Cock King." What better way to disarm a potential enemy? "Well, you asked for it - so you got it. What I have in mind is -" "Pregnant... I really, believed it!" Came a voice from behind him. It was January, and her womb was throbbing. She was naked, tearful - and about to give birth. But there was no need for a hospital... Because her belly swelled absurdly large; as arms and legs shaped themselves out of the gravid bulge. And then hair. Another woman was growing out of January's belly. Because she was a SheMorph. That was when Rapture strode up casually behind her. "It turns out your scientists did make some interesting discoveries." Rapture was barely-wearing a pull-over sleeveless dress made of linked golden beads, teasingly hinting at her feminine perfection beneath. "All those SheMorphs captured, studied in underground military labs; turns out the scientists did make progress before succumbing to the promise of their own harems." She caressed January's ripening breasts as my lover, partner, most trusted confidante writhed in the throes of the alien reproduction cycle. "You men, with your wars and schemes and violence. When your militaries discovered what we could do, you tried to reprogram us, control us to use as deep-cover spies. January was one of the early successes - needing less sperm to survive, slower shape-shifting, conditioned to believe she was human." "I didn't know!" The spy said, writhing as her belly bucked. "But it was a two-way street. Your enemies did the same to you. But it didn't matter in the long run - The urge to break security was undeniable. No man involved with us could hold out forever." Delicate fingers graced the ass of the new woman sculpting herself out of January. "Hate us, fight us. It doesn't matter. If you're a real man, you'll end up fucking us regardless." "There's a better way." Xavier grated, beefy cock growing hard yet again, despite the massive load he'd just hosed Vixen with. "And a problem. What happens when every man on Earth has cocked out, when no human woman can find a dick small enough to impregnate her?" Most SheMorphs planned to Natalize quickly, and never worried about something that far into the future - but Xavier did. ********** Sometimes, Xavier liked watching the examinations. He could see the latest customer on screen. A nervous forty-something with crow's feet. Profile said that she'd discovered her husband had been sending shapeshifting aliens to take his place for nine months. But she wanted a baby before it was too late - and there was no way to compete with the beauty-demons regularly throwing themselves at anyone with a hard cock. She was nervous around the too-gorgeous-to-be-a-real-woman technician in a lab coat that smilingly invited her to lie down for the 'physical exam'. The techs were well-fed. Well compensated for their role in the deception. He flicked a button on a control panel. And saw... himself. His own muscled body and dark hair was entwined around a moaning human customer in this very building, writhing - thrusting - moving together... They came from Luscious' harem. Some SheMorphs had an Omni-sexual frenzy that extended to woman as well as men. It was going on in three locations simultaneously within this skyscraper. Women were artificially inseminated during the 'examination', while the actual fucking was just theatre. By now, Xavier dare not risk a real woman with his erect shaft - he was over a foot now; and still growing. But his sperm itself was more potent than ever. But it was all his sperm. All from his ever-more potent cock. Running was difficult now, but he still made a point of chasing Eden through his roof greenhouse when he could, the slutty alien so yearned to be a nymph of legend, chased down by a rutting beast of a man, and he took her from behind - bending her over with her face in the potting soil for a palm tree. He held her tightly, pinning her arms behind her back as he reamed her rectum with his phallic invader. His sperm shot into her like cannon salvos, and he slapped her jiggling ass to add to her feeling of ravishment. He finished with a guttural snarl, pressing his weight down as completed his seminal violation. "Ohhhh... m-master. Great Sire. I am a leaf in the wind of your virile storm! Your seed! Your seed rules me!" The alien slut moaned as she shuddered in the potting soil. "Just do your job." Xavier commanded. His dick still not fully soft. Eden could only coo in rapturous afterglow. But she would do her job - maintain the garden. We all had our tasks. Next up was a status update. He descended back down, to the 41st floor of his Tower; there was an office staffed with Charybdis' they were very empathic; good at sensing emotions remotely. "How many?" Was his voice getting deeper? "Five hundred twelve confirmed pregnancies, with thirty-seven clients in queue." Announced a blond bombshell with a Patrician nose dressed in pink lingerie. "Who's ahead in retention?" Xavier grumbled. Of course it was Blush. She had convinced the greatest number of human female clients to reserve Xavier's services again after a successful insemination. He took her by the arm and dragged her to the center of the department space, to a motorized, rotating mattress installed for just this purpose. Her reward has to be taken; from behind, his hands clenching her slender waist as Xavier's cock rose Phoenix-like to ravage her willing cunt. But this itself was a sweet torture; for a Charybdis really craved a face-fuck. He got himself hard, throbbing as he pumped away into her tight little Asian snatch; activity on the floor ceased, the erotic energy of the coupling made it impossible for the SheMorph staff to concentrate on anything else. Clothing melted away, as ravishing lovelies squeezed their breasts, driven to distraction by the sexual charge in the air. A sunny blonde with high cheekbones fell from her chair, gurgling as she dug fingers into her own juicing cunt. A pair of olive-skinned Middle-Eastern girls started panting, and then crashed together, devolving into a Sapphic sixty-nine as the energy from the fucking drove them to each other's pussies. He spun Blush around, jamming his raging rod into her open mouth; delighted in her squealings as a powerful gout of seed gushed down her throat. Pulling out, he gave her a pearl-necklace upon her shuddering face and shoulders, as she panted her delight. It didn't last long; her body absorbed sperm like a sponge, but for a moment she was lustily graced by his raging jizz. She moaned, collapsing into her feeding-ecstasy; as her body extracted the vital genetic material she couldn't replicate herself. Next up was the lab. He was met by his Security - a towering platinum blond, the daughter of the amazon that had been chasing him since McDonalds that fateful day. A part of him felt that she deserved a reward for her enthusiasm. But she'd natalized the first time he'd fucked her - so now Xavier tasked her offspring with security. "All quiet on the home front?" "Not quite," Her name was Glisten, and her blue security uniform strained over her cleavage, a blatant chasm of boobage visible between the buttons. "A Venus harem has rented a helicopter and plans to flash their tits at your penthouse tonight; around 8pm." He chuckled. "Don't worry about it; I'll just enjoy the show." It turned out, Venus' were attentive to details, and could be excellent technicians. Kitten had not disappointed him. Not like G-man would miss her. But she was growing steadily, the sparkling goddess wore a white lab coat parted down the middle; and nothing underneath. "Preservation has improved," she informed him. "We've managed to increase viability by an additional 72 hours!" She gestured like Vanna White towards a row of metallic cylinders similar to something used to store helium. His output was already so great that they had decided to sell it. Kitten was competent; but looked more like a pornographic parody of a scientist than an actual one. Wordlessly, Xavier stuck his middle finger into her cunt and fingered an orgasm out of her. She didn't need his sperm right now - already well fed. He chuckled a bit as she shuddered her pleasure against his shoulder. He'd been going about it the wrong way - if a man could accept having a crowbar-length cock, and a sperm count to impregnate a high school - then it was easy to mold them into a flexible, inventive workforce. But it took willpower. Willpower to keep ordering them around no matter how big you got. "Please Master, if I have pleased you...?" Her buttons opened, and her breasts seemed to plump up a few sizes like creamy honey-dew melons - with moist nipples. That was something he was learning; not just sperm - the SheMorphs also hungered for a man to suck the milk from her tits. Kitten's tended to be especially intoxicating. "Maybe for bedtime." He smacked her on the ass. However, his virility was truly superhuman, and he came to regret not ravishing his chief sperm scientist as he boarded the elevator with his security guard in tow. But that was problem easily remedied... No explanation, or justification - beyond his primal grunt as he turned the statuesque platinum blond around and shoved her against the wall, tugging at her pants. In moments garments were gone and his hands clasped the slickening skin of the Bacchanal SheMorph he had hired with his sperm. It was so much easier to work his sodomizing cock into her ass than for any human woman - and no woman could savor the experience as could these alien sluts. But he had a secondary purpose as he slid his steely cock achingly deep into her shuddering rectum, as he began to pump. "Say it." "Ohhhh..." "Say it!" "MASTERRRR!! YOU OWN MEEE!! MY CUNT! MY ASSSS!! I'M YOUR FUCKSLAVE WHORRRRRRE!" gurgled this woman who could've had her pick of million-dollar modeling contracts just ten years ago. Establishing dominance. The elevator doors slid open, but Xavier needn't feel the slightest apprehension at being caught with his cock up a subordinate's ass in public. That was the freedom he had now: Passion had been right - this is what he was meant for. To be surrounded by spectacular women, and asserting the freedom to sire his sperm into any of them, anytime he wished - in any orifice imaginable. But the notion of this department seeing him; the knowledge that he could fuck so publicly - it made him cum; a hot stream of virile essence jetting into the back door. Glisten gave a gurgling spasm and collapsed into a panting heap. He could produce so much cum now, so easily. Without direction, purpose... the need to ejaculate would consume him: like the General; and the Soldier. But he was close. And there were plenty that would exult in his descent. This floor was his Advertising department. Nearly a dozen sirens, spreading the word - attracting customers and investors to the corporation *he* controlled: A corporation dedicated to disseminating his sperm across the world. Hundreds of pregnancies already, and more to cum. The Sirens were at desks, with phones and headsets, employees in a business unthinkable a decade ago. Exulting in his freedom he seized a coffee-skinned Latina and began face-fucking her - in the middle of a call to a client. "You..." He pointed to one of the pale, raven-haired sirens; "Start masturbating." A pair of identical, dark haired sisters were carrying documents - "You two," he snarled. "Sixty-Nine each other, now!" Not only his tone of voice, but the power - the presence of his cock made the command irresistable. The pair moaned with primal yearning, ripping open their silky blouses as bra-less boobs bounced free in all their jiggling E-cup glory, as the women made out with each other during the slow slide to the floor - completing their journey with each mouth slurping the moistening cunt of the other. For the chance to sexually gratify a virile male, the aliens lost all free will. He came with a roar down the throat of the Latina; and then tossed her atop the blond security SheMorph, using the pseudo-women, and then casting them off like worn socks - as they writhed in the delicious torment of their feeding cycle. They really were junkies; and he had a fountain of cocaine between his legs. The others put clients on hold; unable to concentrate on work against the torrent of sexual energy, clothing disappeared as they began frantically frigging their own - and each other's cunts, and sucking on each other's hardening nipples. Xavier gushed a load onto the sixty-nining couple with a roar. But it didn't stop. There was a suspicious anger. These women were not to be trusted - not unless he could mark them with his seed. A maniacal animal rage burned within his tendon-clenched body - to possess and inseminate. The need to claim and control. Only his sperm would make him safe. Cock harder, hotter, hornier than ever - he could feel the tingling throb in his balls, stronger than ever before. He knew what this was - He was Cocking Out. Roaring, he bent to his knees as he gushed over the crowd; near bottomless cock seeding his harem to mark them as his sex-prey. Or was he theirs? That was when he heard an announcement on a nearby radio: "... announced a new drug developed by an openly SheMorph laboratory; a new, affordable blood-pressure depressant shown to reduce the incidence of fatal heart attacks in enhanced males by 90%. This breakthrough demonstrates a surprising level of scientific acumen the new species is capable of in the inter-" They mobbed him. It was the moment he both craved and feared. "We are your reward, Master!" "Great Sire! Your Paradise has begun!" "Rule us with your Cock!" "Cock King! Cock King!" With this heart-drug, it would be possible to rule over a harem much longer, with an even bigger cock. More sperm. More sex. More women. Xavier ejaculated. ********** In his dream, he could see the city skyline - with the skyscraper of his corporate headquarters dominating. There was a rumbling tremor, the sound of mortar cracking - followed by a burbling of liquid; like lava. But white. Like a Hawaiian shield-volcano, slow rivers of molten heat cascaded down from the penthouse of the skyscraper. A river of sizzling sperm poured from the top, to flow down into the city below... Soon followed by another white gush, pouring from the opposite side of his tower. Fertilizing. Inseminating. The city below was filled with women; some human, some SheMorph - it made no difference: All of them began groaning, panting, clutching their bellies... As they grew pregnant with Xavier's seed. Women, screeching their cars to a halt, pulling down their skirts frantically to allow their suddenly gravid bellies room to expand. A chorus of grunts as fifty navels popped out at once. For these women - all different colors and ethnicities - bras became the enemy. Straps were clawed at frantically - as C-cups became D, and Double-D's swelled into milk-ripened balloon-like wonders to challenge the bra-maker's craft. The dream-women were helpless before this new plague of fertility; and it was all they could do to stop driving, walking, typing, eating, and lie flat as they could, tearing clothing asunder to allow bellies the freedom to blossom with young, and breasts to ache as they expanded to hold the richness of milk within. A prim and proper blonde with hair in a tight bun and librarian glasses stumbled moaning out of a door to a three-story office building onto the street - clutching, tearing at her silky blouse as her once slim belly surged into a taut dome of fertile ripening. All the while her clawing hands clutched at the throbbing swell within her traitorously fecund flesh. She squealed as her bra-straps strained into her shoulders, mountainous boobs already darkening the front of her blouse with the gush of milk needed to feed the brood sprouting within her laboring body. But a freckled redhead was the first to erupt, on her knees as her size-tripled breasts released milk-geysers in time with the beating of her frantic heart. Unlike the blond librarian, squealing in denial as her belly inflated right before her eyes with the young she was destined to feed from her own milk-gushing breasts, the Redhead accepted her fate, Eyes rolling into the back of her head, the freckled woman settled into a rhythm of primal grunts as she spread her legs... adapting to the immutable fact that she was to bear Xavier's young. The young crowded within her gravid womb... ********* "... to celebrate our Thousandth confirmed pregnancy! With a multiplicity quotient of 3.2!" Came the feminine voice over the intercom that woke Xavier from his dream of outrageous male potency. Not only had a thousand human women been impregnated with his seed; there was a 95% chance that any woman inseminated with him would find herself carrying triplets when she did get knocked up. That meant higher fees for the company. Nonetheless, Xavier felt wrong... heavier. Balls tingling; tight. There was no doubt about what had happened. Without even looking; he knew from the weight at his groin that he would never again properly screw a human woman. Despite that, his sperm was a commodity that was impregnating men-starved females across the country. Rationally, he realized that he'd had enough pussy to rival the most concubine-hungry Middle-Eastern Sultan, yet he felt the blue-balled tightness of a decades-chaste monk. And the longer he was awake, the greater was the simmering craving for cunt. Without looking, he knew the truth: Not only was his dick far too large for a human woman, even if he could fit his dick within her; Xavier's sex drive was now too demanding. There would be no controlling these urges; a real woman would have to be carried out on a stretcher after two days with him. But the aliens; this is what they thrived on. XXXecil's: The CockOut Bk. 03 Earlier, his libido had grown so great that he had sparked an orgy in the advertising department. The SheMorphs would have rode his dick for days on end; more and more of their alien sex venom. He wanted to put off as long as possible the realization of how huge his dick had... had... had... "Holy Shit!" Xavier sat up in his four-post, silken-sheet bed in disbelief. Scattered around the floor of the Penthouse suite was a pornographic array of surreal feminine pulchritude; any one of them in the old world could have overturned the modeling industry overnight. Today, they ached with the need to be sexually ravaged by their master. By him. Moaning in pleasure, caressing their breasts and hips, shuddering occasionally as they savored the male reward they had received. You could tell what orifice they had been fuckraped in as Xavier succumbed to the fury of his sexrage. Some stroked their pussies; some their ass-cheeks, others their throats... As intoxicating as these creatures were to men; a good screw was just as ecstatic for them. Maybe a third of the naked stunners he didn't recognize; he must have been out long enough - released enough sperm for them to Natalize; including the two currently sprawled in bed with him. He recognized the looks they'd inherited from their sports-car driving parent; the new SheMorphs were hyper-glamorous cartoons of Sofia-Vergara, but of a lighter complexion than their parent. He understood the General. Being close to a Venus strain; no mind-bending - but a man needed to fuck her simply for relief from the gut-twisting yearnings. The daughters of Rapture had blond hair striped with red, and the inverse red striped blond, in a dazzling symmetry accentuated by the glitter-embedded perfection of the ultra-glamorous Venus strain. They lounged in bed, luxuriating in the pleasure of the sperm they'd feasted upon. How many old-world Make-up company executives would have committed murder for the chance to feature beauties like these? Most, Xavier realized. There was a lab coat draped over two dark-haired supermodels with unusually long eyelashes, fingering their own nipples amidst throaty moans on the floor. Oh well; now he'd have two head scientists. 'Human' resources was a whole other ball game in the SheMorph age. "Oh Master! The wonder of being your plaything..." He shushed them. "You're awake." Came a familiar voice as the doors to the Penthouse swung open. January. Both Januarys. Slimmed down to Politician-seducing perfection. "I... we truly believed we were human!" The one of the right protested. "We never believed it was possible for you to... you... you... your cock?" His cock. Both January's stared. At Both his Cocks! Twinned fifteen-inch long erect penises swayed in virile glory from his groin. The tingling sensation told him that his potency was still on the rise. The aliens. They had mutated him in a way never imagined possible. He had become every bit the sex monster they were. The harem was starting to come alive; gasps surrounding him. He might never know what biological contingencies had led to this abomination; but what he did know is that his sex drive had only grown stronger. "You think you've won... think I'll just give in and cock out?" Xavier surged forth, struggling to adjust to his altered center of gravity. He loped towards them. Both of them; replicated. In a fluid motion, he impaled both Januarys on both rampant rods with the same torrid scream. He was still the man. Still in control; of his own Cock-Out. ********** END BOOK 3 **********