1 comments/ 35251 views/ 10 favorites XXXecil's: Silverfox By: xxxecil They had warned her about the dreams; prolonged, frightening, and erotic. Like ten-thousand hands caressing her at once forever. And the moans, cries and ululations that were at the cusp between fear and ecstasy. Yes, they warned her about the dreams. In the end, she slept for nearly three days; but that was not unexpected. When she did awake, she almost tripped. Her muscles responded so smoothly, so quickly! Her old equilibrium was out of balance. Old...old everything....or was it? Mabel's heart thudded in her chest; could it be true -- really true? For months, countless news stories had trumpeted that the cocktail really was all it was supposed to be -- but the risks... Damn the risks. What else did Mabel have to live for? What did the rest of her life matter at this point. Maybe a lot. Maybe it had all changed. Fearing even to look down at herself, she stumbled to the wide mirror above her mahogany Vanity and dresser. And she almost gagged. They had warned her. She really should not be surprised. Just once, just this once, the hype was real! A face smooth as powdered porcelain stared back at Mabel as her green eyes widened in shock. Her ripe, full lips opened wide -- the face of a goddess-in-flesh, the sculpted beauty to provoke the envy of a supermodel, framed by a frolicsome cascade of loosely curled hair the color of a rusty sunset. No... no this...this was more; she -- Mabel had NEVER looked this good! The only factor that might detract from her beauty was the stripe of silvery gray from her temple all the way down in a distinctive stripe. Incongruous with the rest of her color, but perhaps it added a touch of uniqueness, excitement. And....they said that would happen. She giggled, and then laughed in a voice more vigorous than any she'd been capable of in decades. She twirled herself, catching a glimpse of the bed behind her and -- ah yes... there on the pillow were the shed leftovers; silver-white strands all in a tangle, detached from the rest. They also said that would happen. She didn't think her eyes could grow any wider as her graceful hands explored her flesh. Trim and taut and lithe -- but more robust than willowy; and her breasts... she cupped her perky, plump mounds like a farmer caressing his blue-ribbon cantaloupe -- and they were not far off in size. She flicked her taut nipples, fascinated by the jiggling grandeur of her proud, youthful mammaries. Her hands swept lower, past toned valleys of soft, nude womanflesh -- so tight and firm. It was almost....eerie how there was not a trace of wrinkle or blemish in the least. And her feet, her legs and feet were sleek, statuesque and powerful in a way that she'd forgotten was possible. On a sudden, giggling whim she lashed out with a raucous kick to a wheelchair positioned near the bed, overturning the vehicle to test her strength symbolically. "Young...young... I'm young again... It was all true!" ********** Mabel was almost suspicious when she first heard the voice that spoke to her over the phone -- did she know anyone on intimate terms who sounded that young? She did now! "I called you before, but you didn't answer; still sleeping it off I suppose." said a youngish female voice that seemed tingling with excitement. "Yes I... I've been asleep... for days." Mabel answered into the receiver. "It depends, It can take up to 96 hours for some gals. Took me almost that long." "And...and I doubted you, Ethel. For awhile it just seemed too fantastic." "And we're both living proof! As soon as I can get a hold of Bertha, the three of us will have the Girl's Night Out we never thought was possible!" Ethel insisted. "But... how long has it been so far for Bertha?" Mabel asked. "Two days for her; give her time. The drug is firing up every cell in her body like the Old South during Sherman's March. Just like it was with us two." "I...I dunno I feel like I...should have made plans - " Mabel began, mind awhirl. " A whole new shot at life! My youth back after all these years. I.... we had all resigned ourselves to growing old gracefully but now..." "Now that this little miracle cocktail has hit the streets, we ain't old biddies playing Bingo anymore! We can go anywhere! Do anything! We can have it all! The three of us; like old times again!" Ethel's voice over the phone was practically quivering with excitement. "I almost...don't want to get too anxious; it seems like a dream -- the kind of thing that has to have a catch..." Ethel seemed almost to hiss over the phone. "Now don't be getting all antsy over the talk about the side-effects and symptoms! That sort of thing is just too incredible! Don't spoil what we've got now by worrying yourself sick!" "Ethel, I've just survived a mutagenic compound that forced my body to grow fifty years younger! I don't think anything is too incredible after this!" And again, her hand began to explore buoyant, glorious tits and the athletic curvature of her belly and thighs down to her sleek, perfect legs. "Well, nothin' is going to spoil this for me. And there's no backing out now! Think about it sweetie, if you hadn't taken the SilverFox what would you really have to look forward to? "Maybe three months spendin' every day in your wheelchair watching Oprah, waitin' on the CandyStripers to get around to driving you to Bingo night at the Senior Home. And after that; probably six more months of Chemo -- and we all know what the docs said about how likely you'd be to survive another round!" "And that's why SilverFox will keep spreading," Mabel reasoned. "It's supposed to have a greater effect on those with the poorest health -- women like us, getting to be our age. Women at the age where -- where risks just don't have any meaning." ********** "....legacy of the exiled Korean Scientist discredited by persistent, illegal human cloning and stem-cell experiments." came the perky, yet professional voice of the announcer as Mabel lounged, nude in her easy chair -- still taking it in, still absorbing the magnitude of the potential before her. Ethel wanted to wait until Bertha was finished with her own transformation, so Mabel would give her old friends that, for a little while. Their was something else familiar about the announcing Anchorette that was narrating an evening news documentary about the ongoing phenomenon-crisis that had so many curious, so many fearful, and so many joyous. What was it about the anonymous newscaster that Mabel recognized? Smooth, shoulder-length auburn hair, clear and flawless face doused in makeup, plump red lips..nothing unusual about the newscaster, was there? "But it is now known that this scientist was forced to become a doctor for a wealthy, Columbian drug-lord after all other professional doors were closed to him." The T.V. Showed an aerial view of the dense jungles of South America where presumably drug lords and the dangerous men who served them were concealed. "Yet this exile gave him even more freedom; with a billionaire patron and no ethical restraints; dangerous experiments that would be illegal in a dozen countries led to a discovery that would rock the foundations of society and capture the human imagination." Next, the slim young Anchorette was walking in a clinical laboratory apparently about to interview a scientist. Mabel chuckled, as if the penultimate dream of eons of women would be forestalled by cold feet at the F.D.A. Her own feet, slim and youthful, caressed each other and slid up her own nude legs luxuriously as the T.V. Interview continued. " ...and no one should regard this as some kind of -- 'Fountain of Youth' answer to prayer. The fact remains that Cis-sulphonamide Xanoxylate has a number of extreme side effects that have doctors all over the world deeply concerned." Insisted an erudite-looking, white-haired doctor with a stethescope around his neck. "It was created by manipulating mutant stem-cells using toxic processes that have never been approved by the F.D.A." "But surely, the alleged promise of regaining her youth would entice many women to take on the risks. Do you seriously expect most women to ignore the potential?" The doctor raised his hands in a pleading gesture. "No one's denying that this is the greatest breakthrough in a century -- maybe more, but it will take many, many years of development before this drug can be made safe. And I'm sure there are women out there that will take the risk, but they're risking a lot more than they were told by the drug-pushers that gave them access." His white-browed eyes widened for emphasis "And so for now, Cis-sulphonamide Xanoxylate is a controlled substance, and you support that doctor?" "Yes; for those women contemplating dumping their retirement savings on a vial of this stuff, The best course of action is simply to wait. Give us time to develop the drug's potential safely!" "Alright. So give us some real facts; help us to dispel some of the myths surrounding SilverFox." The newscaster asked the doctor. "Certainly." "First, why does it seem not to affect younger women?" "The cascade reactions that the Xanoxylate sets up in the body are disrupted by....what you might call growth and repair resources. The healthier and younger you are, the more growth and healing potential you have, the less effective the drug is." "And so the reverse would be true?" asked anchorbabe. "Yes, those who have aged significantly, or those whose bodies have degraded in health for other reasons are more susceptible. A thirty-something housewife might lose some lines around her eyes, but for someone much older, maybe grandma in a nursing home, the Xanoxylate sets off a chain reaction of regeneration the final results of which.... we're not really sure of." "It doesn't sound so bad, Doctor." "Maybe not, but the greater effect the drug has, the greater the potential for side-effects. Just looking at the data I've seen will curl your hair! And if you've had the occasion to witness the full chain-reaction -- when the process continues non-stop, the consequences are..." At this, the doctor seemed truly worried, he shook his white-haired head in dismay. "Tell us more, Doctor." Anchorbabe prompted. Mabel snarled, in displeasure. Grasped up the remote, and flicked it off. Ethel was right; what's done is done and there was no room for regrets. She wouldn't let fear and hype diminish the possibilities now before her. Listening to their pessimism would only spoil the joy that was now hers. In a flash, Mabel realized the truth. She understood why the anchor-woman seemed familiar. No, she hadn't seen the person before; but after looking at herself in the mirror -- studying the news-woman; she knew the truth. "Hahah! Miss Objective-Investigator has used it herself!" Mabel was sure. "That face; when I studied mine, I recognized the same pattern in hers. In almost anyone alive, even a young women, there should be some wear and tear, but her..." Mabel again checked herself in the mirror. Her complexion was like silk-woven porcelain, so soft and perfect that it was almost unreal -- something like the results you might achieve after five hours in a world-class salon. And...her hair....the newsbabe had a thin, barely noticeable patch of gray roots near her ears. Oh yes; she too had joined the sisterhood; probably changed all the dates on her resume -- and now she can be the fresh, attractive face of the news hour again. It was a new world, and Mabel was sure that almost no one was going to 'wait'. She wouldn't. She couldn't. She stood near her thinly curtained windows as the sun went down, aware that her fresh, glorious body was still naked. And she had a thought -- an insight that had not troubled her in decades. Her new body was like that of a cheerleader-pornstar at the Double-D maximum of her natural fertility. "If a man saw me now, completely naked -- he would be overwhelmed with desire." She hissed to herself, eyes closing as she began to revel in the knowledge. "Just the sight of me, my tits my face, my abs, my hips -- almost any red-blooded American male would become hard as a rock." She began to caress her ample chest. "To see me, his instincts would take over and he'd risk anything to possess me, to take me up in his strong arms and ravish me!" Mabel sank to the floor, a hand cupping her hot pussy, lips already engorging. "I would...uhhhh..... feel the crush of his strength against my soft, sweet breasts -- his animal need would overpower me, and I would feel it -- feel him spear me with his meat! His desire! A passion that neither of us could control...." she gurgled, flesh beginning to sweat as she thrashed nude upon the floor. Her breasts were warm, taut, and she felt a subtle pulsing, a quivering in her cunt, like an abortive orgasm. In her rational mind, she knew that was one of the warning signs. But she thrust that thought aside and felt her heart swell with pleasure at the thought of being a leaf in the wind of unrestrained male lust. "So easy... all I have to do..." she stood again, pussy plastering her firm inner thighs with hot, female wetness. "Is open the door; let them see me. The men....ooooh.... will see me.....naked..... and the pleasure....haven't had in decades....will be mine again!" Her hands closed around the doorknob... "Do it!" came a sly, whispering voice. Mabel looked around, confused. What? Who said that? There was no one else around. No family, no friends, no pets in her lonely house. But she'd heard something...she thought. But there was no one there. No one she could see. "What...what am I doing? I'm about to...expose myself to the whole neighborhood? That's...that's just crazy. I've got to get a hold of myself! They did say.... that increased libido was a symptom but... wow... "I've never felt so...so dirty! So wild and randy! Gotta be more careful!" But it felt good. It felt great! Having a burning core of such fiery passion inside her was a pleasure in itself. There was a tingling need in her pussy, and dwelling on it, trying to satisfy it even in part brought profound pleasure! It was fun to lust! But... not fun to get busted for indecent exposure. She'd be more cautious; but nothing would stop her. This new life would be lived to the fullest! No one now to judge her, gainsay her, and she had no personal responsibilities to impede her. It would be glorious. But she had nothing to wear.... ********** The passersby on the Strip could have been forgiven for believing that the three women were a little crazy, or tipsy. Some of them, of course would have recognized that all three of the women parading themselves through Kansas city's most elite shopping thoroughfare were Silverfoxes reveling in their neo-youth, and all that went with it. It was business and pleasure both for Mabel and her life-long friends. She really didn't have anything to wear that would suit her new lifestyle. They had all had to start off wearing shapeless, long floral-print dresses that pleasantly concealed withering bodies -- but now those bodies were ripe, young, and smooth. Mabel had been especially impressed with Bertha; who'd once been a dumpy, sixty-ish butterball of a woman. But the Xanoxylate cascade that had torn through her body was apparently very hostile to fat. Bertha's form was now pinched-in voluptuous. She had lost everywhere except her chest. Shorter than the rest of them, but with bulging, jutting curves of hip and breast that would trigger a man's most primal urges. Her dark hair was lustrous and smooth, with her silver-white stripe above her left ear -- marking what she once was. And she was laughing, they all were -- at the indescribable joy of this new existence. Starting from the old-lady floral print dresses, credit cards and retirement savings were being consumed in favor of mini-skirts, an unnecessary profusion of high-heeled shoes, and ever-flashier ear-rings. But as the reality of their new beauty sunk in, Mabel and friends began to feel that it.....it wasn't enough. She wanted more glamor, more sex-appeal. So they continued, refilling wardrobes that had gone by the wayside decades ago. Mabel was equally impressed with the changes in her old friend Ethel. The old Southern Belle had youthened into a statuesque, almost regal figure. Lean and tall with a runway-model willowy build, and smaller but proudly jutting breasts that accentuated her sleek bearing. The Xanoxylate reactions had whipped her cells into shape, remaking her into the spitting-image of the shapely, professional urban-socialite woman of beauty and dignity that so many of the new generation aspired to become. Mabel thought that the touch of white near the center of Ethel's coppery coif of stylish, shoulder-length hair added a touch of distinction -- making it less likely that she, and the rest of the them would be perceived as bimbos. And she felt it. Mabel felt male eyes on her -- not in pity or revulsion as before, but surreptitiously. A forty-something guy in a blue suit and tie glared at her chest for a brief, electrifying moment before dropping his gaze to prevent his young date from noticing. A bearded man in a Ford Chevy deliberately slowed down as he drove past, and she knew he was staring at her. At her! Her tits seemed to tingle at the thought. Desire. Power. Pleasure. They were hers again. And Mabel felt an awakening within her. She felt like a great, old oak that had lost its leaves and grayed during the winter months. But now, she was blooming, blossoming -- not just her body; but her soul as well. Emotions and opinions began to rise up inside her -- not really new sensations -- but rather forgotten ones. A powerful urge to travel, see, feel, and love swept over her suddenly. Desires that had been decades buried. But overlaid over everything was a sense of urgency. What if the hype was true? What if the Silverfox effect wasn't a fountain of youth; what if there were consequences that would come back to bite her? She felt a potent need to cram her time with pleasure and living. A young girl or boy might have a bright-eyed, youthful curiosity to see it all and do it all, giving little thought to the future -- thinking they have all the time in the world. Yes, Mabel was young, but would she pay a price? She needed to live faster! The excesses of Jim Morrison wedded to the zany irresponsibility of Britney Spears. And she liked it. Desire was a blessing for the gratification of its fulfillment. Her eyes widened and her smile brightened at the thought of all the love and adventure that was in her reach! On it went, Ethel at first picked out a neat, beige business-like dress, until she realized her towering long legs were the best feature of her Silverfox-enhanced body, and began purchasing an ever skimpier series of miniskirts. Mabel herself was trying a series of freakishly-colored cocktail dresses that she never would have dreamed of wearing in her old life. From neon-pink lycra, to a microdress in lavender, to a hip-hugging silver-metallic vinyl ultrashort miniskirt. Her card was swiped and swiped and swiped again. "Wow, spending more tonight than in a whole year most of the time." Bertha remarked, arching her back so that the spaghetti-strap bright red top she wore would pump up her creamy, full boobs to best effect. "We don't need retirement accounts anymore. I could have a...a...sugar-daddy!" Never had Mabel imagined that those words would cross her lips, nor that it was anything remotely possible. Until now. "I could work again..." Ethel remarked, eyes wistful. " I have -- we all have so much experience..." "I plan to enjoy myself...REALLY enjoy myself!" shorter Bertha replied, eyes scanning the passersby. There was a hunger in the voluptuous woman's eyes, a hunger for attention, a hunger to-be-hungered-for. She and Bertha had purchased and now wore neon-pink mesh-tops that both covered and displayed bikini-clad tits that jutted forth with callimastian curvaceousness. Bertha's endowments were slightly larger, closer to cantaloupe girth, but Mabel's feminine orbs were soft, jiggly perfect handfuls. They both wore cut-off half-skirts deliberately tight around the ass, Mabel's a wild, spicy pink, Bertha's a glossy black. XXXecil's: Silverfox Ch. 02 It was getting easier for Bertha. Yes, in the beginning she had been shocked by her own desires, the terrible and lusty things she did with that handsome, young Jason person. And... that was the last name she could remember from the evening. That was one of the side-effects of getting her youth back with the new Silverfox drug; the craving for men - for sex it had built up inside her like a volcanic flow of feminine wetness that erupted in explosive, fiery orgasms. She didn't really remember how she got here - or where here was. It seemed to be some sort of...eh...frat house? Apparently. Greek symbols on the walls, dirty laundry and crooked furniture littered a communal living room, and four naked young men lay sprawled in exhaustion upon the floor, their penises painfully erect even though they were unconscious. Young college kids - far younger than her - these boys would be flabbergasted had they guessed the truth. That this lusty little nymph they had so eagerly mated with was already old enough to collect social security. Yet they could have been forgiven for not imagining such a thing - the healthiest, most gorgeous co-ed could not have had a more perfect, silk-smooth complexion, nor a firmness of skin and muscle to rival a teenager's. Bertha was living the impossible dream that woman had craved age unto age. What women would have given a Queen's ransom to possess - and indeed, the silvery vial of Cis-sulphonamide Xanoxylate had not come cheap, but no price was too high to pay. The miracle drug had been kind to her; giving her jutting hips and a wide bosom that pronounced her own voluptuousness even without the jiggles she made to entice the boys to gaze upon her tremulous, female charms. And her face was smooth, young, and perfect. A round and pleasant face, comforting without being shockingly exotic. Hers was the sort of form that made men snarl with lust and lay claim to her, thrusting into her womanly depths with raging, vigorous thrusts. And there was a time when her shame would have stymied even the thought of the excesses she had just indulged herself in. Yet sex too, was far better for a woman with Silverfox in her veins, orgasms were almost instantaneous; and just the proximity of a man sent jolts of pleasure searing her nerves that she knew she would no longer be able to do without. It was with greed that she slipped her well-used, but still aching pussy over the rigid shaft of a nameless frat-boy whom she had already exhausted hours ago. What amazed her was the fact that men no longer went limp inside her after ejaculating. Must be a side-effect of the Silverfox chemical reactions, she mused. She placed his hands upon her hard-nippled breasts as she ground herself upon his paralyzed member. "Slut..." she spoke, testing the word. She knew that she would not give up the explosive pleasure that came from exploiting her new beauty to fuck young men, she knew that this is what she would become. And it was becoming alright now. Alright to be a slut, and she rutted and thrashed atop the nameless college-kids perpetually hard cock. "Slut...." ********** It was a form of revenge, in a way. It began as her own idea, but that strange, hallucination that her plaqued her lately had also contributed to the idea. She was like the distillation of every hedonistic and lusty thought Mabel had ever had, and the ghostly presence was covered in legions of salacious tattoos that almost resembled clothing. That was just one more side-effect of the Silverfox drug; it had changed her mind as well, giving her hallucinations of this she-devil that represented all of Mabel's most venal urges. And so Mabel knew what she had to do; it was sort of like - revenge on Mother Nature for making her ever grow old in the first place. "I'm sorry miss, but the details of that investment account can only be given out to the title holder herself -" explained a portly, but strongly-built man with a bushy, brown moustache and a cleanly shaven head. He was the advisor assigned to manage all of Mabel's retirement accounts - but that was in the past - when she'd needed to worry about retirement. Now, anyone who saw the sleek, busty redhead would have been amazed if she'd claimed to be close to fifty - much less past that. The only real clue was a thin streak of grey-white hair near her temple - in contrast with the rest of her fiery red mane. "Yes...the account holder... you see there's been... a special circumstance in that regard that I... I need to discuss with you in private, in your office." She was playing well the role of the bereaved younger daughter, intimating that there was some sensitive, family matter to discuss. The banker shrugged, nodded and escorted her into his corner office. "Alright Miss, what's this all about?" She responded by tearing open the subdued, black funeral-appropriate dress-suit that she wore, releasing into the light her spectacular pair of perky-nippled Triple-D's. Despite the girth of her endowments, they remained remarkably firm and upright, like sexually aroused grape-fruits that gleamed with pink aureoled magnificence in the florescent office light. "Wh- you..." "This... is about... my tits...and your cock..." she hissed wickedly as she sauntered towards him, the rest of her outfit peeling away; she wore neither bra nor panties. "This... you can't...seduce me into...b-betraying... account information.." The bald banker stammered. "You're not betraying anything;" Mabel replied, jiggling her chest at him. "Y'see, I really am Mabel Hayworth." She began stroking the pale, grey streak through her sunset-red hair. "But what're you... that's not possible it's..."then Banker's eyes widened. He would have remembered all the news reports... they would have discussed symptoms of the Silverfox contamination. Recognition would be dawning. "It's... you really are....her?" He was expecting a senior citizen, what was now almost naked before him was a nymphomaniac with a body as firm and smooth as a high-school senior. "That's right; and you're hornier for me right now than you ever were for your wife." She sneered, as she swept the papers, books, ledgers, and keyboard of his desk with a wave of her youthfully strong arm. With the dexterity of a much younger woman, Mabel swung her hips up onto the desk; pussy thrusting towards him. "And I'm not here to check my account status...." The reddening of his face, the tenting of his pants, the stammering in his throat; they were music to Mabel's ears. As he scrambled atop her, and began to slide eagerly, earnestly into her cunt - she gasped with a delight that was not so much the achievement of pleasure, but more the relief of a pressing, pussy-moistening need. She pressed her lips to his own moustached ones to stifle her scream of pleasure as the pulsing fire of xanoxylate-enhanced sexual excitement coursed through her. ********** But there was more; Mabel was a woman on a mission. She wore a spicy, brilliant red dress that pumped up her ample breasts, draped around her legs and opened to allow the creamy curves of her toned thighs and calves to reach the gaze of admirers. As she strode into the sleazy, singles bar her heart skipped a beat in delight as she felt so many eyes on her. It was milk to her soul to be so craved again - after so many decades. She could not suppress a brilliant, teeth-flashing smile as she approached the nearest bar-stool. "Don't you just hate it..." Mabel began in a voice that dripped with sultry appeal. "When women dress in super-skimpy outfits that expose everything... and then get angry when men are attracted?" She angled her chest so that the red dress allowed a deep view into valleys of bouncy cleavage. He didn't even pretend not to stare. "Errh... yeah....I...know what you mean." He was a thick-browed man with a broad shoulders and a hawk-like nose, with salt-and-pepper iron-gray hair in a crew-cut. And it was no coincidence. She was here, at this stool, talking to this man for a very particular reason. "Just burns me up..." she cooed, flicking her hair and arching her back. "You wouldn't do that to a woman, would you?" She asked flirtatiously, a hand rubbing his thick shoulder. "I'm not sure if I..." "It's obvious what a handsome, attractive man you are. You wouldn't get angry... if a woman were to...admire you?" The blushing. How sweet. She grinned inwardly and outwardly. "I....I've got a hotel room... if you're...interested? ********** She had to restrain him and herself, she didn't want him to throw her down onto the bed and begin the main event - before he knew. He had to be told who she was. And her had to want her anyway. "Pretty snazzy suite," Mabel remarked. "With Susan changing all the locks with the divorce and all, I thought you'd be strapped for cash." She appraised the lavish, beige-carpeted room with a jacuzzi and four-post bed. "Say wha..?" His mouth opened in an abortive query. "I admit," Mabel said, kicking off her panties while still wearing her dress. "It was exciting hearing all the gritty details of the marriage. Me being your next-door neighbor, I guess it was natural that you ask me for impartial advice." "What the Hell - the only person I ever talked to my marriage about..." His brow darkened, his hands pausing in the midst of unknotting his tie. "only.... Mabel Hayworth." She giggled and nodded. His eyes darkened - then widened. "No only...but you...wait...that silver-streak in your hair...the news...they said that was one of the signs to look for... is it... are you?" He wasn't sure he wanted to form the question. "Yes, yes, and yes." And the dress had fallen. "Young... gloriously young again..." She was ecstatic! "And you want...?" "It's what you want, stud. You're a man, and even though you knew me when I was old; you...are so turned on.... that you can't resist fucking me!" Brazenly, with a wicked gleam she began to play with her naked breasts, kneading them right in front of him. "But I'm not...you aren't..." "Oh c'mon Bruce; I've seen your wife. And you've seen the new me. And I want you even more than you want me...Are you going to pass up a shot at this?" Arching her back fully, voluptuous spheres to make a god blush bounced free in the air. Lusciously round mammaries as plump as honey-dew melons yet softer than a pillow. Her endowments screamed out for a man's lusting touch. She was so brazen! Bruce had never met any one so wanton as this crazed she-devil that had once been his modestly polite, elderly neighbor. Moaning with awesome longing, his hand closed around a full, fertile breast. ********** It was all a question of time. Not that she didn't enjoy the savage reaming that Bruce gave her wet, hot xanoxylate-laden pussy; but as the pair savagely mated all through the night and past the dawn, Mabel knew that she had to leave to reach her next.... appointment. It was an erotic thrill far in excess of natural coitus. The man's inability to go limp after plastering her womb with his jetting seed allowed his arousal to amplify into a feral madness. The bed-springs had creaked and the walls had shook as the burly neighbor jack-hammered her inviting pussy like lightning driven insane. And his own empowered thrusting only magnified her own pleasure. Mabel drifted in and out of conscious awareness, and an animal craving that knew nothing but the thrill of the rut. As before, the man exhausted far too easily. And Bruce lay there moaning in a helpless heap after a mere five hours of toe-curling, sheet-moistening, pelvis-slamming fucking. But oh! The benefits of the Silverfox chemistry! Now, whenever male endurance failed, Mabel could climb atop her spent lover and use his hyper-erect rod as a living dildo for hours more! It was disappointing that she only got two full loads of cum before she needed to leave. But convenient in other ways. If any one man got too possessive, she just had to fuck him to exhaustion for a few hours, and he would collapse in helpless bliss and allow her to go on about her business. ********** "And I just need the recipient's signature here..." said Brad, the UPS deliveryman that had made innumerable deliveries to Mabel's house over the years. As an old woman, she was delighted to have visitors for any reason, or not at all. Anything to break the lonely monotony of the geriatric exile imposed by time. As a busty Silverfox clad in a terricloth bathrobe, she was glad to see him for a much different reason. MAbel took the clunky digital manifest device with the smart pen and signed her full name. "Oh no, I apologize for the misunderstanding ma'am." Brad began, adjusting his brown hat. "This package can only be received by the named recipient, it's been labeled sensitive." "That's right. And I'm the named recipient." Behind his sunglasses, she could see Brad's eyebrows lifting. "I'm afraid not ma'am. I've made many deliveries to this address and I'm quite sure you aren't Mabel Hayworth." "Not without a fantastic little chemical cocktail known on the street as...Silverfox." She purred. He started. "Oh my... I didn't think that the hype was..." He took off his sunglasses, flinty-blue eyes appraised her; she parted her bathroom, inwardly exulting when she sensed that Brad was plundering her with his eyes. "You're... Our p-procedures don't cover...this type of situation..." "But you know what to do..." She grasped him by his brown uniform shirt and pulled him to her clutches. "Your cock, my asshole! NOW!" She handed him a jar of Vaseline. It was something she'd always been intensely curious about, but was too afraid to even admit it too herself before. But now... Now her female assets were so great that scarcely a man alive could resist her. Brad was a fit, firm, clean-shaven, square-chinned working man. With his physique at least, he should have had no trouble impressing the ladies. Yet his male opportunism could not pass up a chance at those tits, that round ass, those legs, those lips... Grunting as he frantically sodomized her, Mabel emitted a cry that was half squeal, and half moan. It was her pussy that craved the penetration - taking it up the ass was both stimulating and frustrating all at once. She exulted in the pleasure of his vaseline-slicked member gliding through her insides rhythmically, yet the cravings inside her pussy throbbed ever stronger, the gratification combined with tantalization drove her into a drooling frenzy! But all good things must come to an end - it hadn't even been an hour before Brad had fearfully departed, in fear of his job. But it was enough. Mabel lay sprawled, body pulsing, sweat dribbling down her sumptuous curves. All of them. Every man that had had contact with her in her everyday life when she was old, had been seduced. Oh yes, her vagina burned with a manic craving for male penetration, but her mind....her ego hungered to... avenge herself on the ravages of age. All of the men had known who she was. And her sex appeal had been so great that any unease or trepidation had just been pushed aside. They had to have her! They HAD to have HER! It was a conquest, a victory of the sort she'd never dreamed possible. The power of desire and to be desired made her soul sing and her lips laugh as she sprawled nude on her living room carpet before the window - almost daring a peeping tom to gaze upon her female splendour. ********** "A handful of deaths reported has been blamed on the side-effects of Cis-sulphonamide Xanoxylate; if you have young children listening, you may wish to briefly change the channel." But there was something suspicious about perky sweet young anchorwoman, the same one that Mabel remembered from the newscast days before. Strange how....disheveled she looked. Her auburn hair had numerous misplaced strands, and looked mashed near the side. And...was her lipstick slightly smeared? How odd. "Five incidents in New York, Kansas City, and San Diego have prompted the F.D.A. to issue renewed warnings on the dangers of the so-called Silverfox illegal narcotic that has begun to spread through our communities." Anchorbabe reported in her news-neutral tone. Next to her, as the camera angle switched, was a prim and preppy young man with brownish-blond hair, a prominent brow, and a commanding voice. "There are unfortunate side-effects for the male partners that engage in unprotected sexual activity with women contaminated with the drug." Strange, why was his tie crooked? What was going on in the news room these days? Why would these two be allowed on the air looking so ruffled? "Men are reported to... I quote, Enter a persistent frenzy of sexual stimulation, - unquote. Apparently, there are cases of death by exhaustion. In a New York story, a forty-five year old man was discovered dead in his Lower Manhattan apartment after what doctors estimate to be thirty-six hours of non-stop sexual activity. The young brownish-blond guy took a deep breath, looked as if he wanted to say something, then changed his mind. "The suspect in the death is eighty-six year old Gertrude Fritz, formerly of Sunnyside Nursing Home." The screen showed a side-by-side before and after picture of a pleasant, elderly old woman with skin the consistency of smashed tin-foil. The after-portrait displayed someone with the looks of a runway model with gold-flecked dark hair. Something like a fuller-lipped version of Cindy Crawford with a wild gleam in her sparkling, green eyes. "Authorities are charging her with 2nd degree Manslaughter and possession of a controlled substance. Gertrude met her victim at the Nursing Home, where he was a staff member." "Idiots," thought Mabel. "Showing comparisons like that is going to ensure that every woman over fifty will sell her soul to get a dose!" Mabel was no exception. The Female Anchorbabe took up the reporting as the camera switched to her. "Medical Experts have issued a statement explaining that Cis-sulphonamide Xanoxylate is not simply an 'anti-aging' drug, it triggers a transformation both physical and psychological, it will not 'turn you back' to what you were as a younger woman, the alterations will remake their victims into something that has never been before." "Never before..." Mabel whispered, mind racing. "In local news, Police have made a series of arrests for public indecency; the latest occured at 3:30 pm on Troost street. The rates of these disturbances have been noticeably increasing lately. The Kansas City Police Department has no comment." That was strange, there was a brief scene of a wide range of people, male and female alike, some young, some middle-aged. None of those shown had the ravishing sex-goddess glamor of a Silverfox, yet they were struggling with police, and pixelation was used to blot out their crotches. How strange. "It is not known whether there is any connection between these indecent public displays and the increased use of Xanoxylate in our community." Anchorette brushed a loose strand out of her eye. And then it was obvious. The pieces fit together, and Mabel laughed uproariously. "They did it, the two of them." She had already become convinced that the anchorwoman herself must have used the drug, and now the effects were becoming apparent. Right before the show, that was why they both seemed so crumpled and sloppy. No time for makeup to fix things. Too late by the time they went live. She had probably attacked him in the hallway, with boobs and body exposed, arousing his manhood above and beyond his professionalism. Yes, the reports about the increases in female libido were undeniable. There was that price to pay for the youth. And Mabel was convinced that it was no longer possible to consider any abstinent course. She'd been warned that the Xanoxylate doesn't pass through the body, it stays and sets up sustained chemical cycles that only grow stronger. Mabel began to rub her own pussy as it throbbed sympathetically with Gertrude in New York. It was more than lust; an alchemical nymphomania that would grow ever stronger unless the demand for cock was fed. A woman's sexual madness would grow ever greater, and her need would simply keep growing until it outweighed morality, decency, and shame. The need would increase, until the woman became a sexual predator. And if the guy couldn't stand up to three days of constant sex - well, at least they died happy. Mabel had surprisingly little pity for the men in the reports. XXXecil's: Silverfox Ch. 02 Why wasn't she worried about the inevitable consequences? How long could she live this mad, lusty life? It didn't matter. She just wanted more. More sex, more beauty, more men going crazy over her. Even now, after the newshour, she suspected that the 'happy couple' were on their way back to the woman's apartment. She'd probably thought she could handle the youth, the beauty, the hormonal firestorm that now burned in her blood. She take him home, and probably fuck her co-host until just thirty minutes before tomorrow's broadcast. He would go along, fearlessly - despite what they'd just reported. Men were reluctant to believe that women could threaten them, and his ego would force him to believe that he could handle the supernova sex-drive of a Silverfox. Certainly, there were no shortage of men willing to try it! Well, she couldn't run around naked all day - (Or could she?) No, she would check up on Ethel again. But Mabel soon discovered a growing problem. Her clothes.... none of them were fitting! None of the new outfits she'd bought during their first shopping spree... was she getting fatter. No...not fat... it was..bone... her hips! She'd felt them, felt the growing pains, and she knew that it was true about the ongoing effects; the drug was continuing to change her, the youthening, beautifying effects building upon themselves. Her hips were widening, growing at a rate no adolescent ever had to contend with! "More fertile, more sexual." And more lovers. But fewer clothes! She finally had to dig up a pair of her long-dead hubby's blue-jeans, and she enjoyed cutting away with a thick knife until they had become a pair of hip-hugging, scandalous short-shorts! But there was more to come, she would only grow sexier, more feminine in the days to come! ********** "Well anyhow, you remember how I used to work for the newsroom all them years ago?" Ethel asked enthusiastically. "Hmm...oh yes, you were pretty happy then." Mabel answered from the passenger seat of the car. "Well, WSLT just got some openings! Apparently, they want to replace one of their anchors, and I get to interview for the spot! Gotta practice my....Newsroom professional tone...." She shifted briefly from her comfortable, Dixie accent. "And that means... more clothes!" She kissed her Debit card as she drove. "That's great Ethel. Have you heard from Bertha?" "Hmm? Oh yeah...got a garbled-soundin' call from her on my cell. She was sounding just as tipsy as can be. I couldn't really get out of her where she was, but she sure sounded happy; happier than she's been in....well, maybe ever. A lot of guys voices in the background." They both snickered. "I'm not ever sure why she was calling; she was as happy as the kitty what fell into the Moonshine still. Well, couldn't make much sense out of her - but she sure was enjoyin' herself!" Ethel turned and glared at Mabel. "Why're you readin' that trash anyway? I thought we agreed that we weren't gonna let the pessimists spoil our new lives?" "Hmm... nah, this isn't from the government. It's from a group of doctors that have studied Silverfox from the beginning." Mabel was reading from a silver pamphlet. SILVERFOX, IS THERE A SILVER LINING? "I just want to learn what to expect. All these docs have gotta know something." But Ethel just frowned. And looked uncomfortable. She seemed to sink from her jovial hopefulness into a darkened funk. Though mostly absorbed in the strange and frightening claims of the silver booklet, Mabel still took note. "Oh, what now? What's wrong?" "Nothing it's just...no...it's...it's my granddaughter. Thinking about the side-effects...reminded me...she's really sore with me." "What? Kelsey? Why? Aren't your kids glad about your new lease on life?" "Well sure, at first. It was awkward but, the kids were almost as happy as I was! They all visited me! And we made all kinds of plans about where we'd go, vacations we could take... I can walk and run with the rest of the youngins now, we could all go off wherever and do anything! And Kelsey brought her cute young beau. Bobby's his name. He couldn't buh-leeve that I was anyone's grandmother!" "Not looking like you do now!" Mabel confirmed with a smile. "Well. Bobby was a quarterback on the highschool team, and Kelsey brought him by when the family came to check up on me last. And that boy could not keep his eyes off me! He was a bit young but... but then I started thinkin', youth is wasted on the young. Look at me now; why can't I have some of that? "I don't have to fade away, disappear. Not anymore! I don't have to be shelved in the old-folk's home waitin' on the Grim Reaper! I have new value, and a new life to live. I thought about what it would feel like; that fiery youth, that powerful virility - the body of that hot young stud... and he wanted me! The kid was plain about that!" "What did you do?" Mabel was visibly concerned. "Well, nothin'. The whole family was there. But the kid came back! He made some flimsy excuse about wantin' to thank me for fixin' them all dinner. But I could see it in his eyes; you know that puppy-dog look when a guy is totally smitten?" Mabel saw it more and more every day. "And it was late, like after 1A.M. I was in my bathrobe, and along comes Bobby. I could tell, he couldn't sleep. That hot young quarterback was havin' dreams about me! It was plain as day." "So you invited him in?" "Sure, it was late, and I liked the kid. And I liked even more the eyes he was givin' me! These days, when I start getting that kind of attention from a guy; there's that aching feeling - that hot twisting in my nethers. It wasn't long before my pussy was on fire!" Mabel knew. They had all felt the maddening, predatory cravings. "I just told the boy to relax, sat him down for some hot tea. I put my hands on his shoulders, and he put his hands on mine, And I guess my robe fell open a bit too far. Bobby's hands went lower...too low. And it felt so good! It was like I was feelin' waves of...manhood pouring of him! It sounds crazy, but it got me hotter'n Fort Sumpter!" Mabel knew, it was a shared sensation by women changed by the drug. "It felt good, and I told him so. And I just let it all hang out. I let that boy bring his hot little hands down my chest, all over my tits, to my belly, but when he started gettin' close to my home turf, I just snapped. When his hands got down to my pussy, well I just had to have it all. I tackled the kid with more desire than any of them linemen he tries to get away from. "We was rolling on the floor, tongues all over each others mouths, and the kid starts moanin' and shaking. His eyes got glassy. His eyes had in 'em the kind of reverence you're supposed to save for Sunday service. But it was for me. The kid was mutterin' something about a body like an angel. He just couldn't decide where and how to touch me next. Hands...arms feelin' touching, petting everywhere. Screwin' me was like the high-point of his whole teenage years. "And that did something to me. It felt so good - so indescribable - to be treasured again! To have beauty that could be so admired! To have such value that this hot young stud - who probably had his pick of the cheerleaders would go hog-wild over me! ME!! I felt so sexy, so free and powerful, that I just lost myself. "We was thrashing and humping against each other all over the Living Room, so hot to trot that we totally lost track o' time. "We became like animals; I was a bitch in heat, and he was like a hungry, young lion - blastin' me with his male power, his raw, pumping virility - into my pussy, again and again. And I couldn't get enough; every time he sunk his way to the hilt inside me, I just wanted more and more." Uh-oh...Mabel saw where this was going. "Well, before I knew it, it must've been morning - and then mid-morning. And we just kept on doing it like they do on the Discovery Channel. And then who should show up but Kelsey; She was about to say somethin' about buying me a present before she saw what we were doing. "Honestly, that was a situation I never imagined. I was totally tongue-tied, couldn't argue against her own eyes. Well, Bobby tried , he stood up naked and apologized; he said he never meant to hurt her - and that he didn't mean for us to be fuckin' like rabbits for ten hours straight. But Kelsey just screamed about how her grandma had stolen her boyfriend, how she'd never be able to live it down, and just ran off screaming. "That almost killed the mood. Almost. I tried to comfort Bobby. I said that I knew that Kelsey was a special girl, but that he was such a handsome young man, that there were sure to be others for him. And we was both naked as a jaybird, and I was pressin' my nipples up into his back, my arms around him. Tryin' to make him feel a little better. Then a lot better. My hands ran down his belly; that boy is ripped let me tell you! Down to his cock... I'm sure you've figured out that a man who shoots off inside one o' us can't go limp? Well, if anything Bobby was even harder! There really was no helpin' it. No way to salvage anything with Kelsey. "So he grabbed me by the hips, and tossed me on the couch, and the boy was on me like the white on rice! I could see it in his eyes; he would not have taken no for an answer. He was too hard, too horny. He would have done anything to get his dick in me again. Luckily, I wanted it as much as he did. So I just laid back and enjoyed it. I betcha there ain't a mechanical bull in any town in this state that got ridden as hard as me! If Bobby was an animal before, now he was a machine, pumpin' himself inside my twat deeper, harder, faster than before, like a sweaty piston determined to blow its load! "I'm not sure how much manjuice he got up inside me. At least three loads...stayin' hard, kept on screwin' even after he'd already cum once. Couldn't help it, like his dick was possessed. "Must've been.... 6pm before he finally petered out. Not his dick, lucky for me. He just collapsed, but still couldn't go limp. So it was my turn to show him what it's like on top! Must've been.... maybe ten hours later than I had to end it. Boy was so pale, seemed skinnier too. So I just put his clothes back on him, bundled him up in his car to sleep it off." "Wow...stole your granddaughter's boyfriend..." Mabel's mind sifted through the implications. "Well, it's a new world! These young little teeny-boppers are gonna have to work harder if they wanna compete with the big girls!" ********** But there was something else. Something more was bothering Ethel. Mabel wasn't sure it was limited only to the awkwardness of stealing her granddaughter's boyfriend. She was sweating, panting... she seemed... distracted and... "Wow, hey Ethel, you've gotta be at least a D-cup now. Her breasts were no longer of the size were they merely pointed outwards, now her female endowments bulged with fertile girth. "Tits..." Came Ethel's simple reply as she steered the car towards a parking spot. What did she mean by that? What was wrong? Ethel strode through the parking lot of the lavish mall they had stopped at after crossing the state line. She strode not only with youthful vigor, but with an eerie determination. "Wait! You forgot your purse!" How could she go shopping without it? Maybe her priorities had changed? Yes, something else strange was happening. Ethel seemed to be sweating, and as she strode determinedly into the Mall, her eyes took on a glazed cast. From behind her, there was almost a strange whiff of something...sweet? There was something eerie...something aggressive about her. And Mabel.... wait, she was feeling something too. Yes, the quivering ache in her pussy, that was nothing new, but it was stronger now. And then her breasts, they were warmer, very warm. Almost hot - as though there was a heating element in her bra. And the tingling, suspicious tingling. It must be connected to the drug, but was something similar happening to Ethel. Once inside, Mabel's lifelong friend stood in the hub near a rest-bench at one of the central spokes of the Mall with thoroughfares projecting off in three directions. It was a setting something like an indoor park, with wooden benches, fake plants, elevator music, even some cushy chairs with a change box attached that were supposed to vibrate when quarters where put in. Here Ethel stood, panting, sweating... moaning in some secret urge known only to her. I walked faster to catch up to her, if she was horny, I was sure that we could rustle up some fraternity studs for a quick roll in the hay. But it was far worse than that. "Need...to be touched... Need more...Bobby...not enough...need...to feel..." She began rubbing her ample chest through her red blouse. "Breasts...so warm...so hot. Must feel! Must... RELEASE!!" And with a wail to do a banshee proud, she tore open her blouse, bra, everything! She yanked her clothing free as though it had suddenly become like acid! Her breasts jiggled in the air, and Mabel could see that they had indeed enlarged into comfortable handfuls of tit. She began rubbing, massaging and squeezing her own nipples as if to relieve some inner burden. She slowed in her approach, flabbergasted and uncertain. Passersby were slowing down to watch, more the pity for them. The first victim was a pot-bellied, bearded man with round glasses, with the look of a movie-producer or slovenly scholar. Approaching him was a ditzy, twenty-something blond valley-girl admiring her fresh manicure while chit-chatting on her Sprint phone. The man glared at the topless spectacle Ethel presented as she pulled at her own sweaty nipples while moaning in secret ecstasy. Suddenly, the random stranger began to stiffen, eyes widening in surprise, and he began to make a sort of choking sound. His every muscle began to clench as if he was struggling with his own body. Valley-girl looked on the portly man and topless Ethel with open-jawed disgust... until she began to feel the same thing. Twitching, shivering, the blonde girl too began to make a strangling choking sound as both people jerked like marionettes with their strings cut. A fortyish housewife stared with hostility at the lurid display, but she too - soon began to choke, and twitch, and quiver. Unable to stand it, the man tore off his clothes and jumped for he valley girl. She too, yanked off her hot-pink tank-top and while squealing with unthinkable emotions, ran to embrace him. The two began to savagely kiss, humping their bodies together until they were finally able to rip off enough clothing to expose each other's genitalia - when they began to thrust. And the woman being penetrated ground her hips with just as much zeal as the man penetrating. It was apparent to Mabel that this nightmare was fast spreading. Every other random civilian suffered the same symptoms upon drawing close to Ethel. Spasms, then choking, then a furious, erotic madness. A young, newly married dark-haired wife pushing a stroller sneered in disgust, before the reaction struck her as well. Her baby-stroller rolling off unattended, the young mother tore off her long, floral dress, exposing milk-laden breasts with a tortured scream of impenetrable nymphomania. She tackled a fifty-ish Asian man scribbling on a legal pad, quite surprising the stranger with kisses, scratches, humping of her hips, and breasts thrust in his face. In seconds he too succumbed, and began to thrust back against the young mother with equal enthusiasm. The sinking feeling in Mabel's stomach soon grew strong enough to outweigh the heat in her tits and the ache in her groin. This was madness, this was incredible... some kind of contagious sexual madness? A black youth in his twenties with a bandana around his hair charged brazenly at Ethel, grasping and groping as the Frenzy seized his mind. His big hands groped at her tits as his lips fastened to her nipples... "hhrrrnnhh...sweet..." he gurgled. Ethel let out a keening wail of desire and wrapped her legs around the youth, as the pair tumbled over each other and the other mating couples. Slack-jawed, amazed, Mabel was stunned into inaction. Until she remembered her pamphlet! She'd been reading it in the car. It had actually arrived in the mail, a public health campaign apparently. Some of the claims it had made seemed patently ridiculous; until now. She flipped through the booklet. "...Most noteworthy of the side-effects is the buildup in the glands and skin of the affected women of a class of molecules that have been tentatively dubbed Estrusines. They are similar in structure to the pheromones used for sexual signalling in the animal kingdom, but are hundreds of times more potent. The Victim will be compelled to allow for the release of these molecules, and may indecently expose herself. The consequences are an almost immediate psychotropic alteration of the conscious state of any conscious human adult within an indeterminate range..." It was a mass-orgy, soon a tangle of bodies, young and old, attractive and otherwise were mingling, clutching and thrusting. The women equally affected, no less eager than the men. But for Ethel, it would not be another marathon mating for 2 days; it her present state, she provoked rapid-fire almost continuous orgasms from her partner. Yes, he had spurted into her hot cunt in less than a minute, but could not go limp, and his arousal had risen so far, so fast that after being forced into four more orgasms in less than five minutes, his central nervous system protested, and the youth collapsed in a giggling, insensate heap. But Ethel wanted more lovers, more men. There did not seem to be a particular demand for Ethel as a partner, each person was possessed by a screaming frenzy to copulate with the nearest person of opposite sex in reach, regardless of marital status or social consequences. But she walked among her victims, eyes crazed, exulting in the chaos she'd caused. Now entirely naked, she seemed to... preside over the chemical orgy like some sweaty incarnation of Aphrodite herself, come to rouse dormant mortal passions. Her breasts were moist, that must be where her Estrusines were concentrated, she would rub this moisture on the exposed cock of a thrashing male, or stick her fingers into the pussy of a crazed female, and the ecstatic thrashing grew greater as she did so. She laughed, these people were her pawns. Several prior bits of information began to click together in Mabel's mind. The News report... the second one...about the outbursts of - as they put it, public indecency. It was a Silverfox behind it, naturally. These waste-products from Xanoxylate chemistry would build up, and trigger uncontrollable public orgies! That was the problem, that was what had the authorities so concerned! And speaking of authorities; it appeared that Ethel was still thinking, still scheming even amidst her delirium. She was posturing her naked, glistening, impossibly young and tight body right in front of a security camera, mocking whoever was watching with brazen, deliberate, public nudity. Mabel understood; she had known her friend for years, and knew that Ethel had always maintained a passionate craving for men in uniform... and this would certainly draw them! It also made sense now, why the government was going to such lengths to keep this under control. Mabel thought about those women on the late-night, F.D.A. public service piece. Why was it so important that these women be locked up? Now she understood. She thought of that second woman, the one with the brown hair that had been so desperate to entice the host of the show. The Xanoxylate had progressed much farther in her than Mabel or her friends. And as appealing as her image might have been to any guys watching, Mabel realized that most likely, if that second woman was ever released, she would trigger irresistible mass-orgies everywhere she went. Shattering families, causing unwanted pregnancies, weakening marriages. And she probably wouldn't care as long as a beefy stud knocked her up. XXXecil's: Silverfox Ch. 02 Yes... and the third patient, the pregnant one.... that explains why the nurses were wearing gas-masks, to block out Estrusines! Why not tell? Why hadn't the public been warned about the real danger? It would seem unbelievable... maybe the Feds were afraid of causing a mass-panic? Maybe. And then... well, why wasn't Mabel affected? She still felt like she was in control of herself. Yes, her pussy ached for sex, and her breasts were unusually hot and tingly, but she felt in control. Why was she not also crazy? Hmmm.... well, she had the same original dosage as Ethel; that meant that if not already, her body would be overflowing with Estrusines too; maybe she had some partial resistance? The molecules would have affected her by now if they could have. Ethel got her wish soon thereafter. Several rent-a-cops showed up to break up the indecent crowd. But, not guessing the true cause of the disturbance, also plunged into Ethel's trap. He was a stern and experienced officer, that approached Ethel, he'd seen his share of violence and weird stuff, but he wouldn't be prepared for Ethel. "Alright lady, I'm afraid you... and all yer friends are gonna have to come...w...uh..ahhh... *GGGHHHLLL*" The choking, spasming stole over him. And he roared as the cravings crowded out all reason and logic, and Ethel exulted as her beefy, police-fantasy became real as the crazed officer plundered her female treasures with wide-eyes, groping hands, and iron-hard cock. It seemed Mabel was the only one thinking clearly, and knew that this situation would only escalate further, and it was important to remove herself from it. Eyes searching, she saw a hefty, muscular black janitor about middle-aged. He was just leaving his supply closet in the office-hallway of the Mall, and might not be aware of all the excitement. Mabel tackled the man, pulled him back into his janitorial supply closet, and rubbed her naked breasts in his face while clutching her arms and legs around him. Sure enough; either some of Ethel's had rubbed off on her, or Mabel was making her own, but the man began to shake and thrash from Estrusine poisoning, and he sucked fiercely on Mabel's tits. She opened herself completely, glad to get some relief for her hot pussy. She would remain locked up here, and fuck only this one man as the madness played itself out beyond the door. ********** Four hours later, a team of men in HAZ-MAT suits finally arrived, and began hosing down the amorous crowd with some foamy, white irritating substance that distracted them from their indecent couplings. As before, the men could not go limp, so the orgy rolled on and on. Probably would have kept expanding for days if left unchecked. Mabel, peering from a crack in the door saw many civilians carried out on stretchers. Resisting all the way. Men with chronically hard penises still humping the air for something female to penetrate. Women thrashed hopelessly, wailing their desire, bucking their hips in their crazed desperation to thrust something male into themselves. Finally, came Ethel herself. Struggling between two suited-up men. She was naked, dripping with sweat, and unrepentant. She tried to seduce her captors, when they grabbed her arms, she tried to caress their crotches with her bare, slim feet. Even with all limbs secured, the thrust her chest up against the plastic-suited man, hoping that he could feel the press of her hard, erect nipples through the HAZ-MAT suit. Mabel couldn't hear, but she saw Ethel pressing her face to the encased head of one of her captors, whispering indecent promises of forbidden sensual delights. But whenever any hand or foot was free, she would grasp at their crotches whenever possible. Only the completely sealed HAZ-MAT suits guarded these men against her toxic sexuality. ********** Mabel had a lot of thinking to do; the side-effects of Silverfox were real, powerful and it seems that the government wasn't going to lay off the pressure. How could she - oh.... her latest lover, his rough, calloused hands closed around her ass, and with a moan he pulled her to him. His stamina was better than she expected, so she would revel in the pleasure as he fucked her doggie-style until he finally passed out. - But half-an-hour later, the problem remained, even though she had escaped the clean-up crew. But she was still able to slip to the car unnoticed. For the first time she wondered, should she have waited? Should she have held off on buying a dose until the respectable doctors had found a way to harness the anti-aging effects without turning women into lusty goddesses of contagious hedonism? No... there was no guarantee that any safer drug could make her so gorgeous, so desireable as now...besides; she'd been an old woman - would she have lived long enough for ten years of FDA testing? She cruised down the highway back to Kansas City, mind stewing with prospects, and consequences. No... a girl just had to find a middle road. She had to find a way to enjoy her new beauty, without going so crazy with lust that she had to be locked up. Hmm.... basically she had to not get caught. It was several minutes of lonely, morose driving before she passed through a commercial district and saw a shop with a street-side view of numerous televisions. They were playing the news. And... HEY! That was Bertha!! The tagline at the bottom reported yet another arrest for public indecency. And then Mabel saw something that almost made her hit the curb. That bleached blonde woman, the one she'd seen during the first girl's night out! Both her and Betha were being hauled away by men in HAZMAT suits, just as Ethel had been. The platinum blond had been the stranger that had exhorted the trio to practice absolute abstinence, to deny their new desires, or be consumed by them. But now, here she was, trying to kiss a man in full protective gear who was sealing her up in the back of a Paddy-wagon. Mabel understood, the urges would only grow stronger, in days the raging hunger to be feel a man cumming in her pussy would have far outweighed any fear or moral trepidation. Resistance wasn't the answer, you'd suffer the fate of the steam-kettle, heating up constantly until you'd have to blow off steam with noise and commotion. And...and Bertha as well! Bertha had embraced the urges; she eagerly approached men and no doubt allowed any and all cummers a chance in her pussy. Now, the lust had consumed her - consumed them both! Mabel drove on, faster than before. So... you probably couldn't resist the urges, but you were doomed if you completely gave in? What to do? Was it inevitable that Mabel would end up as a lactating sex-fiend seducing any man in sight, forcing the government to lock her away to protect the public from her psychotropic sex-appeal? Mabel decided to lie low for awhile, drive a little ways out of town, rent a hotel, just stay out of the way of - "OOHHH!!" She almost jumped in her seat - there was a sudden stab of pressure in her pelvis. Not to mention the tingly heat in her nipples, which was only worsening. Mabel fidgeted as she kept driving, checking herself and feeling around. It became a deep, aching throb - it was her hips again, her husband's old pants were too tight! And.. and her ass! Her cheeks were filling out too! Thicker and riper than ever; she felt herself, down into her pants... it was like a basketball cut in half! Wider, broader hips, the ass of a girl in one of those rap videos that used to disgust her, but now merely aroused her. "It's not finished; the drug is continuing.... still changing me!" But she kept going. But the heat, the tingly heat just grew! Only a lonely highway heading West, the tension became unbearable... She released the zipper, removing some of the pressure from her burgeoning birthing-hips, but her tits they...they... "TOO HOT!" And she tore upon the buttons on her blouse, yanking until her plump, agitated mammaries burst into the air with a hot spurt of creamy, mother's milk. And her pussy, again it throbbed with abortive, half-orgasms, twitching and squeezing within. It was more than just the urge for sex. "Out of control.... the drug's reactions... will continue to make me...sexier... more fertile..." sweating, panting she almost swerved the car from her passions. She put her middle finger in her pussy, and almost reflexively it squeezed down with a predatory intent. Curious, she tasted herself... sweet... that meant something... the pamphlet - Ethel's behavior... and she knew in a flash that, she too was full of a truckload of Estrusines. Mabel had become toxic! An orgy waiting to happen. She moaned, only one hand on the wheel, plump and jiggling breasts easily as long as footballs, widening out just far enough that her outstretched hand was entirely concealed beneath them. She arched her back as her hips ached again, and hard brown nipples again let loose with sharp sprays of breastmilk as her pussy-moistening torment continued. There was no doubt that if a man was in the car with her, he would be driven by an uncontrollable impulse to rape her - except that it wouldn't be rape because she craved it so badly. "Feels like.... my body is ... punishing me... for not being pregnant... for not having life in my womb..." Suddenly, the birth-control pills in her pocket seemed uncomfortable. She whipped out the round package of pink pills; knowing that with this brand, to remain effective, she'd have to take another within the hour. She held the pills in hand, a mental struggle burning inside her. The tattoed, hallucinatory woman appeared in the passenger seat, the one who seemed to represent her Freudian Id. "You know what to do! You know what you need!" Id exhorted her. It wasn't logical, and she wasn't crazy. She was fully aware of the consequences; yet she chucked the package of birth-control out the window with a howl. Id tapped her on the shoulder - or seemed to - and then pointed at something in her peripheral vision. "There!" A bright, neon sign off the highway that flashed the words: Titopia Triple-XXX!!! The white message board below the neon at the top read: "Amateur night". But there was more. As Mabel drove closer, she noticed two cars in the parking lot (among others) that had a series of Greek symbols that she recognized; the symbols of a well-known fraternity; a Black fraternity. Her pussy nearly drenched. ********** There was a sign-in sheet, and Mabel gave herself the unlikely name of Foxxy Juggs; another fantasy of hers, long buried and forgotten. She had wrapped herself in an old, long trenchcoat she'd found in the truck - both to surprise the boys with her assets, and to contain any Estrusines she was probably emitting until the right moment. The Bouncer just nodded and smiled. He probably noticed her white streak, and knew what was up. But she really didn't know what she was doing. If she was too awkward, she might provoke only laughter! But then, from the behind the backstage curtain where she could see the full stage - there amidst the horny, howling men was her Id. The illusory woman was chugging a Tequila straight from the bottle, and actually masturbating her own naked pussy with a 10-inch, black dildo. The very picture of depraved, slutty decadence gone wild. Strange, that this apparition visible only to her would give her such comfort and confidence! Sooner than she expected, but later than she'd hoped - there came the announcement. "FOXXY JUUUUUUGGS!!!" The Pole descended, a puff of mist from smoke generators obscured the stage, and Mabel stepped forward. Partially driven by an exhibitionist madness fueled by excess Estrusines, as well as the rising tide of long-dormant female fantasies that were suppressed no longer. She started out with the trench coat, and that kept most of her mind-altering toxins away from the crowd, but the opening of the top few buttons, the display of the creamy slopes of her cleavage brought all eyes on her. "THE WAY I FEEL IS SEXUAL...pumpa pumpa ...THE WAY I FEEL IS SEXUAL... AHHHHHOWW!!" sung the stereos near the stage as she rought yet more of her tempting slopes into view. "WHEN YOU'RE NEXT TO ME..." But then, beside her she saw the tattooed image of her Id; Somehow wearing the exact same trench-coat, invisible to all but her. The Id was shaking and posturing too. "Let me guide you..." Id said. And Mabel understood; she would follow the dance moves of this inner spirit of rampant lust that the Xanoxylate had released from the depths of her own instincts. She had no fears of being an amateur, thus guided by the manifestation of her own rampant nymphomania. Her sleek legs emerged from behind the coat, wrapping her left around the pole as she undulated her hips. Following her invisible partner, Mabel then began to sway and shake while undoing all he buttons, yet not removing the coat entirely, allowing a tempting corridor of naked girlflesh to be partially visible to the caterwauling audience. Yes, there was a large presence of well-muscled, beefy black studs, the sort she'd been secretely curious about when younger, and now had the freedom to indulge. When she slid the pole between her vast, swollen mammaries as she squatted up and down, she began to see the first signs that her Estrusines were reaching the crowd. The patrons weren't supposed to put tips directly on the bodies of the performers, but rather there was a jar off to the side that was filling with tens and twenties. (House would get it's cut, of course) A stocky, white guy with the demeanor of a constructions worker and the physique of a cement pylon was depositing his tribute when he began to twitch, eyes widening in surprise...neck clenching...Mabel could recognize the warning signs. The Bouncers, seemingly unaffected made sure to interpose themselves between the audience and dancers. Mabel's Id had her arms raised over her head, grasping the pole from behind, using her legs from below to also wrap around the pole for support as she arched her entire body to raise her breasts forward and outwards, allowing the coat to fall away. And Mabel followed suit, not worrying about tripping over the other womman - since she didn't really exist. But that meant that her dangerous, traitorous nipples were out in the open, and that seemed to be the largest source of Estrusines; her pussy shook with anticipation at the gratification to come. Her breasts. They thrust forward above the crowd. She was so near equal to that second woman in the F.D.A. warning, her breasts by now could have obscured her entire face should she plunge her head into a cushy mass of equal size. Her vast, perfect breasts hung over the crowd with more mesmerizing power than any deer ever felt when confronted with headlights. "LI ...DI DA DI...DI DA DI... DI DA DI... BABY TALK TO ME AAANNND LET ME KISS YOU...LI DI DA DI... LET ME SHOW YOU THE THINGS I CAN DO FOR YOU." And suddenly, the men began to be affected in waves, chocking - spasming reactions were occuring throughout the dimly lit room, and the bouncers suddenly had their hands full containing the frat boys fully intending to rush the stage! At least...until the Bouncers too began to succumb, one of them rose up - a bald powerhouse of thick muscle - eyes widening in shock as his brain was electrified by unnatural sexual urges. "Stop fighting..." She ordered, as a free-for-all began to develop, with arms and fists flailing. But it made her pant all the harder, despite herself. Being so gorgeous, so intoxicatingly desireable that these beefy men where coming to blows over her! "More... you can do more..." whispered Id in her ear. "Exert your will! Order them!" Mabel wasn't sure what she was expecting,but acting on instinct... "STOP FIGHTING!" She yelled to be heard over the music. Though still tense, the violence began to die down, and the men stared at her - eyes wide with the chemical madness of the Estrusines, as they began to form a tight circle. "I wanna see three big, black cocks masturbating in front of me!" She howled. She was on all fours, pussy outward, legs spread, rolling her hips to blatantly, luridly display her female core in glistening detail as she gave orders. The men twitched, made the choking sound again. Shivered; and then two of them unzipped themselves, a third followed, and their hard, black dicks were being stroked and pumped by their own hands. Mabel hissed in delight as she waved her pussy at them. "NO ONE IS TO FUCK ME UNLESS I SAY SO!" That commaned was more painful, and many of the men were struggling against their own bodies, it seemed. But the lusty mob seemed to relent. Her Id whispered to her: "It feels good...so good to have Estrusines on the brain; pure pleasure, and they can make the connection with you as the source of pleasure..." Id said. "And it feels even better to do what I say..." She let out a whoop of glee at the pleasures that were before her! "You, with the Knicks hat on backwards, I want you to suck my left tit!" She bellowed. A lanky, atheltic NBA wanabe moaned in pleasure as the chemicals warping his brain made the task sound irresistably pleasurable. His lips fastened around her teat where he began to dutifully suckle. "You! With the heavy beard! I want to feel you eating out my pussy!" That would be exciting. Eyelids fluttering, body twitching, his mind surrendered dominion to the chemical allure, and he crawled like a horse to the water trough and began to lap vigorously at her cunt. A jolt of searing pleasure boiled her brain! "YOU'LL SEE HOW MUCH YOOUUUU.. VALUE MY FRIENDSHIP...pumpa pumpa...BUT I WANT YOU ADDICTED....TO MY PERFUUUUUME! AHHHH!" "All of you... strip down.. I want to see all your cocks!" Moaning, grunting, choking sounds as their minds were overwhelmed. And sure enough, twenty two meaty cocks soon waved into view before her! Five white, Seventeen black. "Jack yourselves hard!" She commanded, but by now, one of the trio she'd ordered to masturbate was reaching his climax - and she caught it in her mouth! The taste sent shivers of delight pumping through her body; she felt more sensitive to the male auras that so aroused her, the taste should have been awful - yet she found herself craving it with a reckless abandon. She slip up against the pole, breasts perky and high, sweat dribbling down her pale, firm flesh - gleaming with a surreal, chartreuse aurora in the half-light of the strip-club. Most were seven-inches, a few nine, and one behemoth was eleven inches of manmeat! She noticed the smallest one, a white guy barely six inches - "You..." she indicated with her foot. "Worship my leg; see how smooth, slim and toned it is! Kiss it, lick it... kiss my toes... kiss your way up my calves, my thighs, and I want you to feel up my ass when you get there!" Gurgling with delight, the wiry, spiky-haired college kid bent to his amorous task. "And you... she pointed a finger at the eleven-incher. He was a burly, bear of a man. Nearly seven-feet tall, and easily over three-hundred pounds. And none of it seemed to be fat. He was like a solid tree trunk of hot ebony with dreadlocks and a scar on his firm chin. She panted, preparing herself for what she knew must happen, what her body told her must happen. Groaning, lips quivering, she looked the huge stud right in the cock and commanded: "FUCK ME PREGNAANNNT!!!" She felt like a deer running through the woods, and he a powerful hunter - who stabbed her again and again - with a mighty shaft that brought pleasure as well as fear. With each potent thrust, her knees went weak under the pussy-tingling onslaught of his male power. Her body was stretched to the limit by his mammoth pole, yet the painful delight only accelerated her desire. Thrusting her breasts in his face, she keened as he embraced her torso, crushing her to his barrel-chest as the thrusting-mighty thrusting continued to bottom-out her womanhood. Of its own accord, her pussy clenched greedily around the full, thick hilt of this phallic prize that battered away, again and again into her hot, dripping depths. XXXecil's: Silverfox Ch. 02 Her oversensitized pussy forced upon her many rapid-fire orgasms of such choking intensity that Mabel was barely conscious when her chosen stud at last blasted away with many potent jets of his creamy, male essence into the center of her clenching, female core. "Not enough..." Id said. "You know...you know what must come next." Mabel moaned as she thrashed on the stage floor, willing her black stud's swimmers to their fertile destination amidst toe-curling bliss. "Think how much greater the pleasure will be!" Id insisted. And Mabel laughed, she laughed at the wonder, the absurdity that she should do what she was about to do. How wild and impossible it would have been even to dream of such a thing in her old life. And yet... she would do it. She rose up on all fours, eyes gleaming like a hungry tigress as she presented her well-stretched womb and bulging ass to the crowd. Moaning...she ordered: "GANGBANG MY PUSSYYYYYYYY!!!!!!" ********** THREE DAYS LATER... The Titopia Triple XXX was in ruins. The HAZ-MAT teams that burst the door open had to kick out of the way broken tables and muggs that had been cast aside and broken by the numerous, rutting couples. Broken glass covered the floor in many spots, yet this did not deter the thrashing, humping individuals still alive and conscious after so long. During the gang-bang that occured on Amateur night, some of the other strippers got caught in the Estrusine and fell fully into the power of the noxious, airborne toxin. The HAZ-MAT teams hosed down three squealing strippers who, though pale and half-starved, were still bouncing vigorously on the cock of a moaning, barely alive college stud, his ashen face delirious with pleasure and exhaustion. The lusts that seized their minds made them no less aggressive in the prosecution of their gratification than the horniest male. The foamy compound was an irritant that had interfered with the sexual desire of the Silverfox victims in the past. The strippers wailed, but were too weak to resist as they were dosed, then strapped into stretchers to be sent to the nearest Emergency room. One of the suited men waved a squarish electronic device with a blue-glowing display screen over a quivering pile of naked black men, all their penises still chronically erect. The device began to emit a series of alarming beeps. "Over here," The man called to the rest of his unit. ********** Mabel was happy. Too happy. She'd experienced a unique pulsing pleasure whenever she was around men since her transformation, sex only intensified the feeling. And orgasms themselves were ten times easier now! Mabel had spent several days locked in a delirium of sheer delight that she was unaware of the passage of time. Even when the bodies where hauled off of her, and she saw the HAZ-MAT suits, her rational brain knew she was in deep, deep trouble. Yet she laughed. The way her brain was wired after her Silverfoxification was such that so many sex acts, so close together had flung into a narcotic wonderland of bliss that she could not easily come down from. Her nude, wet body was pulled free, and she laughed and giggled. She found she couldn't get angry, or frightened. No telling how long it would take for her nympho-euphoria to wear off. "Why don't you take off that mask and plant a wet one on me, big boy?" she asked. "Remain calm, you will receive medical attention." It sounded like he was speaking with a rubber ball in his mouth. "Ohhh... don't want sloppy seconds, huh? Well how about the blowjob of your dreams?" She licked his plastic face-plate. Another man sprayed her with a cold blast of their irritant foam. Even that didn't upset her. She just hugged the man who had captured her and tried to fondle his groin. Laughing. She knew she should be worried, but it was sooo sweet.... so much sex and desire....eventually, she too succumbed to exhaustion. ********** "It should be obvious to anyone that this situation is unsustainable." Said the older, salt-and-pepper haired lab tech wearing a gas-mask that held a medical printout while studying Mabel. "WHERE DO YOU GET OFF YOU BASTARD! YOU GOT NO RIGHT TO DO THIS TO ME!!" She angrily insisted with fingers waving. "That's where you're wrong, I'm afraid. Cis-sulfonamide Xanoxylate is a controlled substance, and the levels in your bloodstream are off the charts. We have not only the right, but the responsibility." After eight more hours, the nympho-euphoria had diminished enough to allow her to become angry. She stood in a padded cell that seemed like a cross between an insane asylum and a doctor's examination room. She wore a scanty, light green surgical gown, and she was glad that it showed her smooth legs, but heartsick at the implications of her imprisonment. "Then I DEMAND to talk to a lawyer." The man glanced at his charts, then frowned. "Not in cases like these; at least - not yet. The new laws require us to prohibit human contact until such time as we are certain beyond reasonable doubt that you will not intoxicate individuals against their will." "Wha- but I didn't mean it- it's just something that happens! You can't just shut me up here without a lawyer!" "Well, for now - yes. The Courts have passed a series of injunctions that are very specific. In any event, it has been ruled that Xanoxylate poisoning renders you legally incompentent." Suddenly Mabel was more fearful than angry. "What... what are going to do to me?" "It's already been done, in part at least. The first step is to inject you with a synthetic antibody that attacks the sulfonamide granules necessary for the drug to travel in your blood. It's putting your cells in lockdown, stopping any further increases in your sexual characteristics." The man drew a bit closer. "And once the levels in your blood have dropped enough, we'll be able to insert an experimental, therapeutic phage that will implant new RNA that will crash the Xanoxylate cycles occurring in your cells." "Phage?" "Virus, very new and experimental technique. The CDC wasn't wild about the short-cuts that had to be taken to produce an effective therapy so soon, but with the pressure they're under from Washington, the technology was approved outside of the normal channels and red tape." "You're gonna infect me with a VIRUS!?" Mabel backed off, in a near panic to the paper-covered examination bed in the rear of the padded room. "It's therapeutic. Very well engineered; programmed for one specific purpose; nothing else." "You're INSANE! I'll find some way to fight you...." "No, no none of that. All your hormone levels are out of control; but we'll soon fix that. This life you've been living is madness; you must realize that it's not suitable to raise a child in conditions like this. Oh yes, you are indeed very pregnant. Identifying the father may take time, but yes, no doubt about it; you'll be a mother soon. You have to consider that." "You've already told me I'm mentally incompetant! I don't have to agree to anything you say! It sounds like you've already decided for me!" "Not to worry, after the antibody has taken effect, and after the phage has shut down the Xanoxylate cycle, this will all seem like a bad dream." "A Nightmare..." Mabel whispered. ********** Old. They were going to make her old again! Probably doing the same things to Bertha and Ethel! She'd had everything she could have imagined, and it was being stripped away! All she could think about now was all the things she still wanted to do - travel the world, fall in love, (and get fucked in every country) But no, she would be trapped in her aging prison of a leukemia-ridden body, take her baby away, to sure, and she'd be warehoused and forgotten as yesteryear's garbage to be brushed aside. "NOOOhh....." She wailed.... fists clenching. This....this CAN'T be the end of the pleasure and beauty and health she'd savored!! Near her paper-covered exam-bed there was a desk with stray papers and a soft marker. Noticing the security cameras, she threw herself into a last-ditch effort of the hopeless whore. She ran to the cameras - hoping they had audio - and yelling out her indecent promises; blow-jobs, doggy-style anything and everything! "ANYTHING! I'll BE YOUR PERSONAL WHORE!! JUST GET ME OUT OF HERE!!! YOU CAN STICK IN ANY HOLE! ANYTIME!!!" Maybe the camera could only see. So she drew obscene images on the paper, herself sucking cocks, herself bending over - taking it in the ass, drawing pictures of herself titty-fucking, and of course, she wrote and drew promises that she would willingly participate in gangbangs. Anything to escape! To keep her vitality and beauty!!! But it was no good. If there was anyone watching, they must be women, or Gay. She crumpled her indecent drawings and sank into tearful despair. She knew she would have to suppress herself, close off the parts of her new personality that had blossomed. She would have to sink back into a gloomy, passionless pit where her desires were shameful and unwanted, and she was but a burden to those around her. Soon, she flashed her ample tits for the security camera, not in hopes of exchanging sex for freedom, but just for one more moment of feeling desired and beautiful as she did when men went wild with passion for her. To feel, just once more, the heat and ecstasy of the invigorating sexual act that made her so alive, so vital! Just once more; before being imprisoned in a living death with wheelchair and oxygen tanks her jailers. But no one responded. No one. ********** It was time. The thick, sealed door to her padded cell opened, and she saw the same lab tech as before, but this time in full bio-hazard gear, his body enclosed like a deep-sea diver. It would be time now. Their antibody-thingy would have swept the Silverfox drug from her blood, and now they were going to inject her with some strange, horrible engineered virus that would put a stop to her passion, desire, and beauty. And there would be no lawyers to take her side of it. The politicians had panicked, the courts had passed sweeping emergency powers over this fear of mass orgies. The tech walked closer. His steps seemed slower - less certain than before. She detected the rising and falling of his shoulders, as if her were tired. His face - beneath the plastic face-plate seemed, strained...exhausted. As he edged closer, he glared at Mabel as if his passions were at war with his reason. Yes! Maybe he was having second thoughts! Maybe he was starting to take pity on her! Maybe her was worried about her unborn baby, and wanted to hold off! Maybe... But no... she could see a change coming over his face - he had reached some sort of inner resolve, and had made a firm, non-negotiable decision. "You bastard...You'll be stopped; the American people won't put up with these Gestapo tactics for long! You think - " "Need..." "I don't care what you need, you - " "TOUCH!!" he howled, as he tore off his bio-hazard mask, and lunged towards Mabel's bosom. "Must....touch...you! Must...FEEL!!" He began to maul her vast tits, eyes wide in madness, slavering in maniacal hunger! Howling in tortured desire, his scratchy beard began wallowing in her bosom, his hands wandered under her skirt, and he began to fondle her pussy, but he grunted in dismay; he could feel nothing through his heavy gloves, withdrawing - he began to tear off his bio-hazard suit. Mabel was flabbergasted, but also saw an opportunity. She had no inkling what kind of twisted game was going on - he had been wearing protection from her the whole time! Her Estrusines couldn't have gotten to him! Yet now he was consumed with sexual madness - a lot like the orgy victims...but...how? She would consider that later. Her captor had left the door open! Mabel bolted to freedom as her crazed captor tore off his clothing! And Mabel ran. She ran away out the door through this secret medical-prison-hospital, or whatever. She would work out some place to hide until she could figure out a way to slip out forever. Her legs carried her swiftly with youthful strength that she had not - and would never take for granted. The layout was a maze-like labyrinth of sterile-white cells, and she couldn't tell what the overall construct- wha... Mabel came running to an intersection with a young woman in labcoat bending over while two security guards pumped her both in her naked ass and in her mouth. They were crazed, moaning in ecstasy as they thrashed in pleasure. The Guards; they should have been on guard for escapees like Mabel, but these could think only of the warm, female body between them, as they thrust their shafts amid her squeals of delight. Turning right, her progress was halted by a churning mass of naked bodies. Nurse-uniforms, and identification badges were strewn in a loose pile, but it was difficult to determine who went with what clothing, as the mob writhed in passionate nudity. The men, even after exhausting themselves remained hard, and a howling red-head slammed into a writhing male, turned him over and forced his member into her frantically wet pussy with a shrill cry of mindless glee. There must have been nearly twenty of them - not having sex because they desired it - they had sex to quench the flaming urge for coitus that boiled in their groins. In one corner, there was a thirty-something brunette with her body pressed tight against a slightly-balding blond guy A naked girl with cinnamon-brown hair began fighting over this same man, and the brunette tightened her legs around his pelvis and let out a threatening, feral snarl. The newcomer grabbed the man's hand and forced his fingers into her own frantic pussy, eyes searching like a hawk for any available cock. How? HOW?? They were all protected from Estrusines, all those gas-masks and suits. Mabel studied the rutting mobs closely. No...no.. the woman all showed some signs of aging, to greater or lesser degrees - none had the smooth, eerily perfect faces and bodies of a Silverfox. No... all the Silverfoxes were in their cells. This wasn't like the other mass-orgies. And then it hit her; the Virus. They said they were using an engineered virus - something that had worried the CDC, but they'd been under political pressure to come up with a biological solution fast! So they did...sort of. Mabel wasn't a scientist, but she'd watched enough of the Discovery Channel to know that viruses can breed, mutate and change far faster than anything else. Maybe one of the viruses didn't want to do what they intended, maybe they injected a Silverfox, and maybe one of the viruses did more than it was supposed to - could have been a lucky mutation. Mabel saw a discarded bio-hazard bag laying in the corridor, she bent down... "Estrusine-Xanoxylate Vaccine - live virus - 10 doses." Ahhh... that was the problem...all he first-responders, the doctors had been vaccinated to avoid mass-orgies; but something went wrong. A rare, rebel virus could have spread rapidly between the lab-workers, the guards... the police? No Silverfoxes around, yet there was a sexual madness beyond control! Finally, came the impact from behind. It was the first lab tech, the one who had told her the fate that had been laid out. Now, he could think only of how he must touch her. And as horny as Mabel was, it was strange that SHE was now the sane one! Still, his cock was hard, and her pussy had begun to throb with need. Smiling, laughing, gloating, she did not resist as her captor wailed his lust as he rutted into her pussy while pressing her into the wall. ********** Six-Months Later A gorgeous, red-headed woman with a wide brimmed, stylish pink hat sat at an outdoor cafe, sipping a cappucino as she adjusted her newspaper so that it would not be obscured by her massive, Double-E-cup breasts. The KC Orgy Virus was continuing to spread. The last containment campaign was working, until one of the workers broke containment. Usually, it was a horny young tough who wanted an easy shot at all the free pussy he could handle - but the vaccines were only effective 50% of the time, and the virus was airborne. Government workers, police, and the military had been hardest hit because of the emergency vaccination campaign. But the stockpiles were faulty, and several mutant strains arose that combined their genes to create a pathogen that inflicted irresistable sexual urges in any human host. The red-head read an article describing how many doctors had given up trying to cure the plague. Hospitals were stretched to the limit - containing the infected in large, underground rumpus-rooms were the infected could fuck endlessly. The doctors and nurses, (and many strong orderlies) had to forcibly separate each couple every 10 hours to sedate them, hydrate them, and feed them intravenously. The problem wasn't that the virus killed, the problem was that the virus made everyone so horny that they simply forgot to eat, drink, or sleep. The infected would gleefully rut themselves to death by exhaustion, starvation, and dehydration, wanting only more cock. Another article described Chinese aggression in the Pacific, and how they were about to make a major push on American holdings. But then the virus exploded into Shanghai, Beijing, and three other major coastal cities, and was rapidly spreading inland. Their economic growth began to nose-dive as hundreds of millions could think only of thrusting themselves into a warm pussy - no matter the cost. World Commerce was slowing, and several wars ground to a halt as soldiers began to lose interest in war. But luckily, around here most of the people were sane. So life could go on, for now. The red-head began to chuckle. "They told me to wait; wait until they could develop the drug safely; but they're the ones who panicked - and in their hysteria they created something that bumped the Silverfoxes off of page 1!" She laughed. Then dialed her cell-phone. Her daughter liked to chat with mommy from daycare around this time of day. She smiled at how easy, how unnaturally fast the pregnancy was; and her daughter grew far faster than any normal child could hope to. Really no one knew what to expect from children of Silverfoxes. But really, the red-head knew that she should be grateful for what the government tried to do for her - the antibody they'd injected her with had slowed down dramatically her transformation into a total bimbo. Her breasts had barely grown at all last month, and her milk-output had stopped increasing. It seems that she was locked into a youthful, abundantly fertile body where sex was infinitely more pleasurable! She was able to think, reason, and work, finally mastering the raging nymphomania that seethed in her pussy. She would never become a moaning, sweat-drenched animal that had to be caged, with breasts that spewed milk uncontrollably as she flashed her pussy, begging for a man to impregnate her. Not her! No cage! She could move about freely, having sex when she wished, yet able to be civil when necessary. Across from her, a tall and muscular dignified black man with a flashy business suit put down his briefcase and began reading the same paper she was. With a jolt her breasts started to tingle and her pussy moistened as she studied the strong, wealthy, clean-shaven man. Sure, she could control her desires...most of the time. She stared at his groin as she rose and walked towards him - not at all afraid to make the first move, for months she'd had ample practice in thrusting up her fabulous bosom to display cleavage to best effect. It was time for her daughter to have a sister... XXXecil's: Silverfox Mabel let out a wild whoop of delight as she reflected how unthinkable all this was back when she'd been a married housewife so many decades ago. What would her old, dead husband think if he could see her now? She used to be so modest. She paused a moment to ponder how much she had changed in just a few short days. There was a delicious thrill in so flagrantly defying her old propriety. New, fresh....everything felt so new. Ethel for her part, was now wearing a scandalously short, sleeveless rhinestone miniskirt pulled up so high it was almost crotch level, both to display her spectacular legs to best effect, while at the same time riveting attention to her sex. Mabel and Ethel shared a glance and a smile, and there was an unspoken mutual desire. The thought of men staring into her cleavage or hoping to catch a peak up her skirt would now fill both of them with an empowered thrill of electrifying joy. Let them stare; they both wanted it -- craved that irresistible attention that the beautiful could not help but attract. "You girls worked out a strategy, yet?" came a purring voice to Bertha's left. Sitting on a sidewalk bench reading a paper was a bosomy, gorgeous woman who seemed to have the exotic elegance of an Asian beauty wedded to the robust hips and plump breasts of mixed black or possibly Hispanic ancestry, a rare and exotic beauty, and all three could tell by the air-brushed suppleness of her complexion and the gray streak draping over her eyes that she too, had taken the shot. "You can't just run around, showing off cleavage forever. There's a price to pay for what we've gained; and each of us has to work out a long-term strategy to avoid the side-effects." The newcomer herself was dressed in a more subdued, navy blue business dress, parted in the front where she salaciously wore a bra as a top over her bare skin. "Do we know you?" Ethel asked. "We've never met; but....I think we all know each other very well." She flicked a finger through Ethel's white streak. Point taken. I frowned, and folded my arms. "I'm not listening to the F.D.A.'s propaganda; they're just upset that the underworld controls Silverfox, and they can't find a way to tax it." The exotic beauty turned to me. "That all may be, but the stories you've heard -- are true. You'll soon find that the urges will become.... beyond overwhelming. You need a plan." "Well, what's it to you?" Ethel asked pointedly. "There's still a lot of controversy... fears and misinformation. There are some of us who appreciate the value of solidarity." Speaking of solidarity.... "Where's Bertha?" Mabel wondered, eyes scanning. The guy was putting his hands down her cleavage! Not only was she allowing it -- Bertha had taken hold of a horny young yuppie and was actually guiding his touch! "You ever spend the night alone -- just you and your left hand?" She indecently asked the young, blond professional. "I...I..you..." "What would you do...." she purred. "Where would your hand go if it could go anywhere...?" The man gulped. "Show me..." Bertha commanded, thrusting her jutting chest up again his palms, her eyes smoldering, a craving inside that was manic in intensity. This was unthinkable! "We don't need guys for a Girl's Night Out! It was supposed to be just us, out by ourselves, proving we didn't need men to have a good time; and now this?" Back in the old days...literally....even back when men had desired them no one would have ditched her girlfriends to throw herself at a man, especially one she didn't know. And yet... Mabel's breath quickened as she thought about what Bertha was about to allow. It could be her. Why not her? She could pick up a guy just as young and hot. To be desired, lusted, craved again... She felt her pussy throbbing in a series of mini-orgasms.... breasts warm, almost hot. "Here." The newcomer handed Mabel an oval-shaped plastic case of pink pills. Mabel dimly recognized them as some kind of popular birth control pill. "You my friend, can already feel what I'm talking about, and it gets worse." "Feels.... so good." Mabel caressed her own bikini and mesh-clad chest as burning desires flared within. "Fight it," said a new voice. She approached the Asian beauty and stood next to her with a posture that spoke of a close familiarity. "The nymphomania is part of the package; but indulging it only strengthens it." She was a sleek, platinum blond beauty with an impressive bosom that was still pronounced even inside of her dark, buttoned up jacket. She was salon-caliber beautiful, but wore long, dark pants to hide her figure. In the dim light, her white streak near the crown of her head was hard to see with such a bright natural color. "You can only remain young and free so long as you resist the cravings." But the Asian woman rolled her amber eyes. "Total abstinence? Be realistic Jane. That's just not going to happen." "It had better Jade, if they want to prevent the side-effects." This was a little weird. "Uhh... thanks for the birth control uh.... I gotta go; you two sort it out between yourselves, bye!" Mabel had to get out of there! ********** "Pull over! Now!" she sounded urgent, so Jason slowed down. "I can't wait to get back to your place...I gotta have you now!!" Her face was a pleasing oval, and smooth, it almost made Jason wonder if she was on that new super-youth drug they mentioned on the radio. The woman he...he never really caught her name, tore at his tie with her teeth in her desperation. Jason was generally thought of as a handsome man, nice square-chin, strong and prominent nose and clear, blue eyes, young enough for a bright future and ambitious enough for a good shot at it -- but....no woman had ever reacted to him like this! Maybe it really was true that this new, anti-aging magic bullet turned women into mega-nymphos, well he'd find out soon en - "WHOAAAAA!!" The gorgeous, buxom woman thrust her hand down his pants, moaning in delight as she felt his hard cock rising to life. She put his hands on her chest again, and began pressing herself against him. And he knew that she was expecting him to rip off her bikini-top himself! In moments, vast orbs filled his grip, breasts plump enough that he could cover both tits with both hands, with still an inch of cleavage separating his two thumbs, he teased her nipples as she wailed in yearning. Strange, her nipples were almost....moist? And so hot! Almost feverishly hot. But soon, Jason's attention was distracted by her naked pussy, quivering and dripping as it enveloped his meaty rod as his paramour flipped a switch and pushed the front seat backwards, allowing a make-shift bed for the frenzied mating to begin in earnest. They were in public! On a crowded street! Grunting and moaning and thrusting into each other, and at any moment a cop could stop by...heh! This slut would probably seduce him! But then, the Kansas City police were never around when you needed them. And Jason knew this would be no ordinary lay; if he could satisfy her enough to actually drive back to his place, he sensed that he and this curvaceous mad-woman would be rutting like animals for days! ********** "This is fer all you girls about Forty-Twooo.... tossin' pennies into the Fountain of Youth... Every laugh, line on your face... Made you who you are today...." Her eyes shot open, then she laughed at the singing voice on the radio. And laughed. And then clutched her head. Ohhhhh.... and waited for the room to stop spinning. Apparently, Ethel and Mabel had gone out drinking after satisfying (temporarily) their wardrobe needs. Apparently, because Mabel found it difficult to remember much after those strangers had told her to control the desires of her new, gloriously young body. There had been a bar.... there had been Martinis, and Tequilas.... and fruity Margaritas with salt on the rim... ohhh... and neither she nor Ethel had had to buy any of them! Men were such dupes sometimes! She promised them nothing, yet the old ploy of buying her a drink was a constant. Of course, just a week ago, it never would have happened. Her whole world had turned upside down and... "What was that?" She could see in the mirror on her dresser a strange mark on the small of her back. A tattoo. During the small hours of the morning, fueled by cheap liquor, overconfidence, and cash burning a whole in her purse, she'd gone out and gotten a tattoo. It was an image of a cute, cherubic cupid seemingly raising his middle finger defiantly towards the viewer, with a 'you can all go to hell' sneer on his plump face. How deliciously wicked. "That was my idea." Came a sibilant, yet familiar voice. Who else would be in the house with her? But standing near the bedroom door was a fiery, gorgeous woman that reminded Mabel of her new self. Red hair, but straighter than Mabel's own, that swept down in sharp bangs to cover her left eye for a sultry/mysterious air. It took a moment before she realized that the mystery woman was completely naked. Her flesh was covered in a vast spread of interlinked tattoos, showing symbols of freedom and defiance, and lovers intertwining. She had a pattern like rose-vines that obscured her full, jutting breasts and nipples, but there was no actual clothing. There were images of a volcano above a flooding ocean that obscured the stranger's crotch. Trails of naked women in flight twined around her slim, shapely legs. "How did - " "Think about it, Mabel...do you believe that anything that could so totally transform your body wouldn't change your mind too?" "You mean - " "Yeah, yeah, honestly I'm a hallucination -- a figment of your own imagination, and I'm everything you were always afraid to become!" The ghost-woman hissed as she glared at Mabel like a piece of meat. "But I didn't - " "Yes, you did...because I'm something that you need. The deep, boiling desires you've tried to sweep under the rug during your marriage, and your entire widow-hood. You always wanted me, to be me. I wouldn't be here otherwise. I am what you crave; what you want to become." And she turned and walked through the solid door. Curious, shocked, and worried, Mabel followed, not sure what she hoped to find. Out in her living room, it was mid-day already -- she must have slept for....who knows how long! She could hear a lawn-mower in the front. Ah, it was Jamal. He was a good kid; he had hired on with a landscaping service to try and same up enough cash to put himself through college. As an elderly widow, she had admired his reliable work-ethic, as he tended to the hedges and did the work to keep the place presentable that an older woman could never do. But now.... as a Silverfox she admired his corded muscles, the raw, earthy sheen of his black skin, the powerful muscles in his bare back as he pushed the mower. And a seething heat began to throb in her groin. "Don't you remember?" whispered her tattooed ghost. "When you were...so much younger.... before you were married, you were always curious about black men. Remember the feelings that came to you when you watched them?" "I...I it was... at that time...where we lived it was just....unthinkable -- even to acknowledge feelings like that... for a white girl like me.... at that time, I couldn't even consider it, not where I grew up." "And so you denied yourself. Suppressed the urges that boiled in your blood to fit in with the silly proprieties of the day. But the urges that you resisted are a part of you, a true and natural part. Now! Now is the time to release your desires! Your old life, your old family is long gone!" But it was all too strange for Mabel. "What are you supposed to be, my Id?" Freud would have a field day with her, she was sure. "I am the Truth. The Truth of your own nature." responded the crazy, tattooed fantasy woman. And Mabel grunted, pressing her hands against the glass as her gut twisted. "The hormones burning inside you are sexual.... the others you met last night... they lie... the more your suppress your urges, the stronger they will become. You are a hyper-feminine goddess with needs that cannot be restrained by petty morality!" Mabel groaned and arched her back as obscene urges tingled their way from groin to gullet, as her brain was being pickled in sex-hormones. Her Id put her lips to Mabel's ear as she continued her enticement. "He knew you...when you were old. What might happen if he saw you now?" ********** She beckoned to him. But the sight of a porn-worthy redhead dressed in a skimpy white T-shirt and lacy panties (And with a tall, cool glass of lemonade) certainly attracted Jamal's attention. But he would need a little bit of a push. The lawnmower slowed to a stop as he came to see what she wanted. "Uh... hey.. is Mrs. Hayworth doing alright?" He asked. "She's resting. I'm her daughter.... Maven. Stopped by for a visit." Jamal's dark, sweaty brow furrowed. "That's strange; she's mentioned her sons to me before; shown me a lot of photo albums.... but never once mentioned a daughter." His ebony muscles tensed. "Yeah, see that's because she's a little bit ashamed of me. You see, I'm a total nymphomaniac!" At that, she poured the tall, cool glass of lemonade down the front of her white T-shirt, plastering the flimsy garment to the buxom curves of her overflowing breasts. "Whoopsie...." she said insincerely. "Look what you made me do.... I'm afraid it's up to you to clean me up..." She laced her arms around his neck. "Every...inch... of my body..." she growled, glaring at him with open-mouthed, panting hunger. He didn't need much more prompting after that, they stumbled backwards into her house, kissing and fondling each other in passion. Her hands roved between cupping his massive cock, to squeezing his beefy ass. He was mainly content with caressing her breasts. They made it as far as her living room couch. It wasn't clear which of them had finally succeeded in tearing off her wet T-shirt, both of them attacked the garment. She assaulted him with her breasts, giggling as her nipples swelled even harder than she thought possible. Jamal quivered in delight as his face was buried in mountainous tits that easily obscured his face. "Maven" reached down and with a smooth hand began to jack him off. His great, dark, bull-cock flared to life; larger and more powerful by far than anything she'd felt between the legs of her long-dead husband. She openly drooled as her breasts were suckled. She swayed and moaned, tickling his sensitive manhood, then vigorously pumping his meaty shaft to prepare it. Jamal was gurgling all over, quivering and growling as his urges were stoked to a fever pitch. "I...can't!" she moaned as she pushed him away from her, backing off. The two of them nude, sweaty aroused. She could see the frustration in his eyes, the disappointment and most of all.... the aggression. "You forgot to trim around the bush... Jay-Jay." He was puzzled. Then his eyes widened. "That was what.... Mrs. Hayworth... always reminded me of... and it..that name...nick-name... when I was growing up... only she called me - " And then his eyes, already dilating, widened again. He would be remembering news reports about some strange new, illegal, super-youth drug that so far only worked on women. And how the government was afraid of it. "Mrs...Hayworth?" he was stunned, but his penis was still ram-rod rigid. She laughed triumphantly and grinned sharkishly. "It must feel awful, Jay-Jay... to be teased like this -- for a naked woman to get you so hot and bothered, and then to tell you no..." She paced in a circle around him, nude....wet....dripping; but not from the lemonade. "A man can go crazy when a woman does that to him! So frustrating....makes you so angry...so aggressive." Her green eyes stared pointedly into his. " A lot of men wouldn't tolerate what I just did to you. What about you? Are you going to let me treat you like that? Are you just gonna walk away with your tail between your legs?" It was working, she had stoked the fires of his lust, and now provoked his aggression. Jamal roared and grasped up his shapely tormentor by her hips and pressed her firm, young body against his own. She felt the full press of his virile strength against her, and there was no escape for her. Mabel's voluptuous assets were now captive to his hard, black, relentless manhood. Here in his grip, she was helpless before his feverish lusts, and the thought made her gurgle with ecstasy. Pressed into the couch, he pinned her beneath him, her pussy quivered beneath his pelvis, and he paused as if to make certain he had her secured beneath his manly strength. Though caught in his grip, she arched her back and postured her nude, massive breasts towards him, instinctively hoping to inflame his urges even further. "Your lips... on my nipples... I want to feel your strength upon me.... want you inside me... I need to feel you force yourself into my pussy.... I want to feel you explode inside me! I want it, I need it. Your male power... Thrust! Thrust inside me and penetrate me with your seed!" Face contorting in lusting disbelief, Jamal could only murmur: "Mrs. Hayworth...?" "Call me Mabel." ********** The sex was better than sex. The unearthly changes wrought upon Mabel by the Xanoxylate chemistry enhanced the experience in ways she did not imagine possible. As her dark lover pressed her into the cushions, there was an eerie, odd pulsing sensation. It was as if she was feeling, sensing his energy...his maleness. Strange pulses of raw sensation seemed to emanate from him, electrifying her erogenous zones. It was as if her new body had a primal awareness of his masculine essence, and it was reacting with increasingly feverish passion. And when the moment of truth at last arrived, when his beefy rod of dark meat at last speared into her wet, white sanctum -- she discovered that her sensitivity had been effectively multiplied. Grunting, straining Jamal had barely managed two stroked through her slippery cunt before a hot knot of seething passion burned deep in her groin, and waves of euphoric delight radiated outwards from her sexual core. She wrapped her legs and feet tightly around his pumping hips, snarling as she forced his sausage-thick eight-inches into her quivering womb yet deeper. Jamal emitted a wail of delight as he slid into her to the hilt, their bushes merging in heat and wetness. With her hands, she tried to push up and manhandle her own tits, in a belated attempt to incite even greater lust in him. Years ago, she would have been fearful and suspicious of the male libido, but now the lusts of men seemed to Mabel precious and fleeting, a commodity that must be nurtured. Jamal took the cue and roughly sunk his calloused grip into her pillows of bobbing, jiggling titflesh. He teased her engorged nipples with the right amount of pain and pleasure to send shivers of delight arching through her. The first orgasm did not subside. As her body was pummeled with searing waves of sensual delight, the deep ache in her groin only grew stronger. It was as if each climax reverberated through her being, sending continuous echoes of sublime pleasure that had her scratching Jamal's back and cackling like a madwoman. Soon, he bent her over the arm of the couch, and slammed into her doggie-style. She undulated, shrieking her delight and wiggling her ass back towards his mighty meat for encouragement. As he reamed her from behind, his hands continued their sensual onslaught upon her tremulous breasts, and while she tried her best to support herself with her arms, the pleasure of the building, cascading orgasms made her every joint weak. But she discovered a new joy of sex under the influence of Cis-sulphonamide Xanoxylate. After several glorious minutes of white-knuckled thrusting, at last Jamal orgasmed, jetting his manseed deep into her womb, this intensified the pulsing stimulation she felt at his maleness, but as she relaxed and prepared for him to disengage, the two of them made a new discovery. XXXecil's: Silverfox Jamal slowed, gripping the naked ass of his lover, who was still quivering in reverberating orgasm, he moaned, sweat pouring down his black, lean face -- but he would not release Mabel's hips -- his cock still buried deep. Instead, he continued to thrust. His cock just as hard and horny as before. His dark, corded ebony muscles seemed to strain, and his face was contorted under extreme stress and greater pleasure -- but the mating did not end merely because he had cum. There was no change in his potency, he just continued to pound away, just a few minutes more of savage pumping into a cunt even hotter and wetter than before produced another climax, yet it was more of a dry-heave, her Xanoxylate-laden pussy had a side-effect that thwarted the natural tendency of a man to go limp after blowing his load. "C-can't s-s-stop..fucking... " "Harder; deeper..." Mabel ordered. Jamal hoisted her back up clutching her ass as he stood away from the couch. She wrapped her slim, pale arms and legs around her ebon-skinned mate, still grinding her pelvis against his. "C-can't get enough of you...Mrs. Hayworth." With a rattling moan, his lips began plastering her breasts, throat and belly with licks, kisses, and love-bites. He could not consummate his lust in the way that men were used to; the chemical reactions in her pussy locked him into constant arousal, and his continued spearing of her womanly slit, as he fondled her breasts served only to amplify his desire. Soon, his sexual craving for her had flown far past any sane limit. Not being able to go limp meant that he could drive himself to unwholesome extremes of libido not possible under normal sex. And now, his arousal had been multiplied far beyond the level that caused him to first climax, so much so that he didn't have the willpower to stop wallowing in her soft, naked flesh. And Mabel howled in delight. The pair of them stumbled through the house, thudding into walls as Jamal tried to find a better place to copulate. "Can't....stop..." his lip quivered as their bodies locked together. "It's fair this way..." Mabel whispered, her lips to his ear as she wrapped herself around him. "You're quite the fit young stud, Jay-Jay. How many girls have you gotten all hot and bothered, only to cum too soon? Happens a lot with young men. You get us all excited, blow your load, and then you're useless the rest of the night. Not anymore." Deliberately, she squeezed his thick, black cock with her inner pussy muscles as if to lock him into her tighter. "You, young man are going to fuck me for hours...and then hours more... you're so hot for my pussy that your body won't let you walk away! Harder...and deeper.... " she nibbled on his earlobe. Somehow; they made it to her bedroom. ********** But hours was not enough. When Jamal became too exhausted, Mabel simply took over and climbed on top of her ebony lover. Most of the time she preferred to provoke the man into making the first move, but the sex itself was so sweet, that she found a delicious thrill in being the aggressor. As Jamal moaned in her bed, penis still erect (was it bigger?) She pushed his meaty rod into her still-wet womanhood. She was on the verge of another of her super-sensitivity orgasms by the time his full nine-inches of dark manhood bottomed out to the hilt inside her deep, hot womb. Again, there was that pulsating sense of his innate male energy, the sense that his body was radiating something that her own over-sexed flesh was reacting to. Just his nearness sent her nipples to tingling and her cunt to contracting. And so she reveled in the sensation as she thrashed atop his member, amidst his exhausted moans. Mabel ignored the sun as it slipped from the sky into darkness. But she received a pleasant gift as Jamal's long-suffering penis delighted her with another creamy blast of manly cum to bathe her cervix. His body was still producing sperm, but the effects of Silverfox forced him to remain hard even when his body had no more sperm to give. This time, his manly gush was even greater, and having sperm inside her intensified the her body's reaction to his maleness -- throwing her into yet another ass-clenching orgasm that seemed to repeat itself. But when the sun re-emerged with the coming of the dawn, and she still thrust her sopping pussy atop him, Jamal wakened. Eyes bleary, speech slurred. He grasped her around her waspish waist, and tossed her to the side, his male aggression and some of his endurance returned as he arose. Mabel moaned in delight with the knowledge that his libido had strengthened to the point that he was going to forcibly ravish her again, and she caressed herself while groaning sensuously to encourage him. He was slower and sluggish; probably had no idea how much time had passed; but if anything his penis was only larger, harder -- as he battered into her throbbing sex yet again. "Yoouuu're...such a slut...Mrs. Hayworth..." he slurred in his aroused delirium. "And you love it. Call me Mabel." His thrusts were slower, deeper, but more deliberate. Her pussy squeezed tightly, and she savored each manly grind more thoroughly as he ravished her on his own schedule. It was good that she genuinely liked this young man. Her affection combined with her fiery new passions for an experience of electrifying bliss. In time, as the mating couple writhed against each other, their haphazard tumblings took them from the bed, to the carpet, and soon dangerously close to the still-open door where they might be seen in their nude bliss. She thrust her tongue down his throat as she reveled in his wiry male strength, arms encircling him as she sought to get the most out of their coupling. Jamal's hands roved over the toned sleekness of her back and buttocks, and sometimes inside her thighs. It was as if he was concerned that he'd spent too much time fondling her spectacular, jiggling breasts and wanted to enjoy the rest of her as well. In their days-long copulation, they had worked out an intimate sub-language of grunts and quivers that allowed either of them to tell when the other was close to orgasm. Mabel, after the second day of non-stop sex, was able to tell when his next burst would be one of his many dry-heaves, or whether he had real cum to give. And this one was real. It was...maybe the six...seventh true orgasm? And it heightened her own pleasure beyond all reason as he spurted into her yet again. But then Mabel made a mistake. More than three days of sex later, she was finally driven to grab a bit of food -- followed by a shower as Jamal lay sprawled and insensate on her living room floor, damp with sweat and their combined sexual juices. The meal and the shower gave time for his mind-boggling libido to diminish, enough so that when she presented her wet, dripping body before him, all gleaming and slick and ready, his willpower was stronger at last, than his lust. "-n-no more...Mrs. Hayworth..." He looked ashen and pale, with dark circles under his eyes. And afraid. "You're more beautiful than Ms. July; but I just...can't take it anymore...."He scrambled naked towards the door as if to save his own life. Yet his cock was still hard. "CALL ME MABEL!" But she decided to let him go; even though his parting comment about her looks brought a smile to her face and a tingle to her pussy, she had proven her point. A young stud that had known her when she was old could now be driven insane with lust for her. As he hobbled weakly outside, to her porch and freedom, she followed him to the door, opened it wide, exposing her slick, dripping, gorgeous nudity to the neighborhood with a chuckle. "TELL YOUR FRIENDS!" ********** But Jamal wasn't the only one who needed rest. Mabel had collapsed into her recliner soon after, too tired to masturbate, and lacking the drive or emotional energy to berate herself for her slutty behavior. Yes, a part of her was still shocked at what she'd done, but she was unsure if she could.... muster up enough shame to deny herself the narcotic pleasure of such a coupling in he future. So she watched T.V., not for any reason, but because there was nothing else to do at the moment. Just rest, eat, recover. Soon it was late night. And the public-service announcements appeared. It used to be that these sorts of things would be on primetime, but now; with this one particular issue concerning the government, there was a new campaign. Ad campaigns that had to be shown very late, when the kids would be asleep. THE FOLLOWING IS A PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT FROM THE F.D.A. Her screen told her. A nondescript, thirty-something man with traces of male-pattern baldness in a simple black suit was looking towards the camera as he walked through some sort of sterile hallway that one might find in a hospital. "Thinking about wasting your life-savings and buying an illegal dose of Silverfox? Then you need to see what I'm about to show you." Mabel's face perked up. She was curious.... "This controlled substance made from illegal stem-cell lines has not been safely tested or approved for human use; and you're about to see why." He came upon a cell built into the sterile, white wall guarded by a clear, plexiglass wall. Inside was an Asian woman of slender build wearing a skimpy blue surgery gown that covered almost nothing. She was dark-haired and exotically gorgeous, with that ageless, porcelain-perfect complexion that Mabel had come to recognize. She was heavily pregnant, posture adjusting to support her gravid womb, at least nine-months if she was a day. Her dark eyes widened as she pressed herself to the glass at the sight of a man. "This woman is eighty-six years old; looks good for her age, doesn't she? But there's a price to pay for her good looks." The balding man did nothing but stand there with a blank expression, and the Asian woman thrashed where she stood, then turned and pulled up her gown to expose her pale ass-cheeks and engorged pussy. She waved her naked assets towards the man, heedless of the camera. Finally humping the glass wall, pressing -- squeezing her ass and drooling sex against the barrier as her plump womb shook slightly. "Lucky for us the plexiglass is sound-proof or we'd hear an earful of inappropriate proposals. But I think you do need to hear what these women have to say; to truly understand the danger to yourself." The man pointed at the viewer as he walked to the next cell. The next woman wasn't pregnant, obvious because she tore off her hospital gown the moment a man came into sight and began to strut and posture for his benefit. And everyone could see her perfect curves and taut physique. She was a coppery-haired sex-goddess with a white streak near her left ear that immediately began stripper-like movements to seduce the male announcer. "This woman is 102 years old. Looks good for her age, doesn't she?" A high-school cheerleader could not have had smoother, softer skin or a more toned physique. Her face was a hauntingly elegant picture of aquiline beauty with kissable lips, a perky, upturned nose and thin, arching eyebrows for a sultry cast to her crazed expression. Taking in the entirety of her body, Mabel was reminded of one of those ancient fetish-idols that primitive cultures used to encourage fertility magic. Her breasts were trembling mountains of hard-nippled over-endowments that pressed against each other with natural cleavage even when nude. The full length and girth of her melons would have stretched the distance from the woman's shoulders to elbow, wide enough that Mabel could have covered her entire face in either of them should she be pressed up against so prodigious a bosom. From her brown aureoles, white trails of what must be breast-milk left marks down her more than ample teats. Her hips jutted impossibly, widening into a pelvis that would have rivaled a car-tire for girth. Hips that seemed to scream out for childbirth. By her appearance alone, her true age could not be placed; no woman young enough to have such supple, perfect skin could have been able to grow such impossibly fertile sexual features. Her blue eyes narrowed with cunning when the captive sex-goddess realized that the mere appearance of her charms would not be enough to secure what she craved. She stood tall and began to sway and thrust her pelvis in a good approximation of a Middle-Eastern belly-dance, moving with a sensuous, agile grace that would have been difficult even for a middle-aged woman. The man swallowed as she thrust her groin at him. Pixellation effects on the screen were almost, but not quite enough to conceal her flagrant indecency. The captive switched to a more submissive posture, she hunched down backwards in sort of a crab-walk, bent knees spread and wide hips moving in a hypnotic circle that drew attention to her wet and ready cunt. Her face was contorted in pleasure as she began to speak. The Narrator pressed an intercom button on the side of the cell, to allow her words to be heard. "...look at me! These tits! This body! I swear to you; you will LOVE my pussy! All men do! Just open the door; I'm not teasing you! It's all yours...I'm all yours! I just need to feel your big, beefy, virile cock blasting off inside my hot, wet pussy! You'll love my pussy! You'll love me! I'm the best lay you've EVER had!" her insistence became almost angry as the man made no move to release her. It wasn't working. Mabel could see in the woman's face, that her mind was calculating, scheming to get at this man's cock. "Ohhh... I see how it is..." sex-goddess began. "You want a relationship.... a man your age...probably looking to settle down...that's good! Look no further! I just need you to f@$k me." There was BEEP as her indecencies were censored. "I just need your manly rod inside me. I just want to bear your seed in my fertile belly. "I Swear! I Swear I will marry you this instant if you whip out that cock and f@&k your baby into me! Knock me up and I'm yours!" She began panting heavily, continuing to wave her engorged sex before the camera. "Think about it; a wife who never gets a headache! You can give it to me in any hole! Anytime! And...and I'll cook and clean for you!" She stood on her knees now, thrusting her vast bosom against the glass as she masturbated her own throbbing pussy with her middle finger. "These young girls today, they don't know domestic duties like me! I'm better! So much better!" The glass was starting to fog up with her incessant panting. "I know...I know I've been a bad girl, but... I just need a man like you to keep me in line! I need a man with a hard cock to straighten me out! Just cum in my pussy! Once you've f@$ked me pregnant with your baby, I'll be good! That's all I need! I'll do.... I'll be anything you want me to be, just knock me up! And I'm yours! I'm YOURS!" she howled. The balding man, now more red-faced than before, clicked off the intercom button. "I would remind you that these women are not actors. That patient has been on Silverfox for a long time, but that's what's so insidious about the drug. "It only takes one dose; and instead of passing through your system over time, it sets up a self-sustaining cascade in every cell of your body, so the effects will only grow stronger over time. Ask yourself how much of your sanity, your dignity are you willing to give up? Think about the price of losing a few stretch marks." He continued, until he reached a larger cell, this one had a full bed with room for medical equipment and nurses. "If the previous patient had been granted her wish, she might have ended up a lot like.... this patient." There upon the bed was a writhing mountain of womanhood. Her skin had the glossy suppleness that was expected in Silverfox women, but this strawberry-blond creature had them all beat. To say she was pregnant was an understatement. Her gravid mound must have contained at least quadruplets, and that was probably a low estimate. Her womb rippled and throbbed with her own contractions and the kicks from her innumerable brood. She was tended by three nurses all wearing gas-masks, one of them was reaching between her outspread legs to help deliver yet another infant. The Silverfox's naked breasts wobbled and pulsed, easily the size of school-yard dodge-balls, another nurse was securing plastic caps onto her thumb-like nipples that secured through suction. And every few seconds, the clear tubes whitened with gushes of hot, white mother's milk that spewed off into containers somewhere. A third nurse was cleaning off two more infants that she had already delivered. No sound could be heard, but the woman's deceptively young face was almost...exultant? There did not seem to be any pain associated with her hyper-fertility, she seemed to be drenched in sensual ecstasy despite her travails. Then, she noticed the announcer watching impassively as she thrashed, birthed, and lactated. Her hazel eyes widened and she tried to smile flirtatiously, her perfect, naked leg slid towards the glass and tried to beckon him towards her. It was absurd the way she tried to blow him a kiss. "This woman is in the midst of giving birth; yet her unnatural sex-drive has been so heightened that she still attempts to seduce any male that happens by." He smirked. "The moment when she should be hating all men, yet she can't control her baser urges even here, even now." He glanced back at the over-ripe Silverfox as a stronger gush of breastmilk filled the tubes. "Thirty children before her ninety-fifth birthday; at it would have been more had she not been given into our custody. Sex and pregnancy only accelerate the Cis-sulphonamide Xanoxylate chemical cascade. After this patient finishes giving birth, if anything her reproductive system will only become stronger and more fertile, and she'll be consumed with a desire to repeat the process yet again. "Left to her own devices, she would go out and seduce new fathers to breed yet another litter of children. No, these women you see here will not die of old-age, they'll die from increasingly difficult births each time they entice a man to impregnate them. There's no rhyme or reason to it, no higher purpose. They've become pure sexual animals, living only for their primal instincts." The slim, graceful foot of the pregnant woman could be seen caressing the glass near the announcer's groin, as if to punctuate his statement. No doubt she hoped to make him the father of her next brood. "Worse, we don't really know what the long-term consequences will be for children born to Silverfox-contaminated mothers. Who would want the risk for their own children? I'm Todd Glasscox, and I hope this message has been as informative as it was troubling." But the follow-up and contact information displayed at the end was lost to Mabel as a jolt of painful pleasure shot through her lower body. She thrashed naked on her recliner. The sensation was coming from her hips. Her skin was reddening, and she could feel an aching.... a pressure from inside -- much like....long, long ago...decades ago when she'd been young...she remembered the growing pains of adolescence...it was like that...just like that. But centered around her hips. "You know what that feeling means..." Her Id whispered in her ear, materializing behind the recliner with a chessire-cat grin. "G-growing pains... in my hips... they're getting wider, stronger... so I can better give birth to more and more babies." "Sexier too....more power over men..." her Id hissed. "I should be....scared, at the public service message. The thought of becoming like those captive women.... should frighten me... instead, it just makes me hot! It just makes me feel more sexual, and beautiful. It makes me wish I could get Jamal back here.." "He's just one man; you can have many!" her Id reminded her. "Yes....many men...." Mabel groaned, flicking her clit. "But....one thing... that does bother me.. I've heard a lot of rumors about the side-effects. And I know that what they've shown us here isn't the real danger. There's a good reason, a very good reason why those women are locked up. XXXecil's: Silverfox "Their nymphomania is embarrassing, but if the rumors are true, there's a much more powerful reason why those women have to be contained...They haven't told us the full truth; there's a lot more than meets the eye..." "And nipple..." the hallucinatory woman leaned over and began to suck on Mabel's nipple; it felt real enough, and she moaned in ecstasy, putting out of her mind the risk, the danger, and the real story that she knew the government wanted to hide.... What will happen to Mabel's other girlfriends? What terrible truth is the government afraid of? to be continued....