The Adventures of Eggy.
BOOK 1, Meet the Egg.
9. ROSE AND MARC—BOUNTIFUL
“OK, let’s get started with Rose. After all she’s half the reason we’re here,” I pointed out, again. “Stand here dear, everyone else take your seats.”
“You may have noticed she’s filled out some in the last week. Not that she was undeveloped, before, but her new tits are special. Magical even. Rose, give Marc your robe.”
The chairs from the dining room and kitchen were arranged in a quarter-circle, with the couch behind. A double-sized mattress had been placed on a small bed stand from Carl’s furniture and appliance store, which had been wrapped with a rubber bed-wetters liner. A fresh white cotton sheet was then added, with a stack of many more sheets visible off to the side, where all could see. I had sent Stella and Gail shopping together for the fresh bedding and then to get the special items. Both had never been in that kind of store, and were embarrassed to be with mother or daughter, but both developed plans to return here without the other at a later time, like maybe tomorrow. I wondered briefly if I should make it so they ran into each other then, but made the strategic decision that fun as that may be, in the long run it’d serve my purposes better to let them max out their credit cards with sex toys, kinky clothing, and a stop at the salon—both decided if they had to parade around naked, they’d do it looking their best.
There was a strong feeling of nervousness in the air. Good. I could turn that into anticipation. It’s easier for me to manipulate emotion than generate it. But nerves is what I wanted then, and it was time to amp these up, even for Troy, who in the back of his mind was thinking that this was the best thing ever, better than his wildest fantasies. He’s been tuned into watching Rose’s bust grow all week, and now he was actually going to get to see it, and most likely to feel it. Today. Soon. Tits!
Marc was sitting up front, leaning forward with a big, tentative grin on his face. He goes to Rose and takes her robe, folding it gently and placing it on his lap as he sits down. From rehearsal he thought he knew what was coming, and looked forward to it, and was also looking forward to being done his part in today’s show and tell, and more than a little curious what will happen to Stella, and what was happening now—she’s been squirming on her seat and he’s noticed her ass twitching beguilingly. There was something about it that drew the eye, when not transfixed by Rose’s bosom.
I was floating over the mattress and Rose stood beside me when she removed her robe. There were gasps from all as they surveyed her new bodyscape. She wore a new cherry-red peignoir, which would have been fairly sexy but modest, save that it was unbuttoned at the front showing her once big now substantial chest. It wasn’t grotesquely huge, just noticeably big, like Adrienne Barbeau on Maude, not like those Russ Meyers starlets—I consider cultural research an important part of survival and had been absorbing all the popular entertainment I could stand. Plus I’d scoured their sexual daydreams to find places that could be pushed and acts that would be resisted strongly. I hadn’t the power yet to break resistance, and besides I didn’t want to break any my toys so close to this erotic Christmas day. So no matter what I was going to have them do, there was always a seed within them that started to flower under my not-so-green not-really-a-thumb.
I’d say they had doubled in mass, approximately. Plumper and rounder, maybe a quarter again as big. And I’d strengthened her back and belly muscles to better handle the added heft and keep her trim. They were perky too, bigger dark brown nipples reminded Annette of dials on a miniature radio she had as a kid, poked upwards. Like a faded tattoo the purple sparkle pattern from the brazier’s outpour drifted over about a quarter of each breast—didn’t have to but I was marking my territory. She’s a big girl, well proportioned but tall like her father—almost six foot, broad shouldered, meaty muscular thighs and skin that freckled in the summer sun. An ass that shelves into a pair of distinctive globes when she wears heels. She dyes her hair slightly to bring out the red highlights, which I’m thinking about making perminant. Heaven forbid she should dye blonde.
“You may wonder where this growth came from. I’m going to reveal something of myself to you, I can’t create mass, it has to come from somewhere. All I can do is manipulate existing time, form and substance. Carl, stand up and open your robe.”
Carl did so, revealing his barrel chest, still hairy, thick and bear-like up top but his once huge beer belly gone. His medallions still hung from a gold chain around his neck, though there was one new one with a star on a field of purple etched on one side, the other side blank.
“I borrowed some mass from Carl—I don’t think he’ll miss it.”
Sheila looked at Carl’s chest and her jaw dropped, “I could never get him to lose any weight at all.”
“I told you when we started you would be getting gifts you couldn’t imagine. Besides Rose’s tits and Carl’s gut, here’s one for you all. You will all find it easier to find the will-power to exercise and eat healthily from now on.” I knew what kind of exercise they would favor.
“But that’s not really magic, it’s more like hypnotic suggestion. For real magic we need to return to Rose’s tits, where lucky Marc is going to help us demonstrate. I want all the men to congratulate Marc on his being chosen first by shaking his hand. But first I want Marc to open one of the jars sitting on the side table.” Fourteen clear sealed medium mason jars filled with what looked like moisturizing cream were stacked off to the side among the props.
“Are those my canning jars?” Betty asked.
“Yes. I’ll replace them when needed with ones that never break the seal or let the content spoil. But not now, the power isn’t enough yet, I need it for other things.”
“Ok Marc, put a dab on your palm and shake each hand. Remember what to say. Regrease your palm before each shake.”
“Seven as one,” Marc says as he shakes Carl’s hand.
Carl replies, “Don’t hurt my girl” as he gives Marc a very firm grip.
“No sir,” is the wincing reply. “I think she’ll enjoy this as much as when we rehearsed.”
“Carl—Everybody, let me say this again, pain is not part of our agenda. Pleasure is. I promise”. If I had fingers I’d have crossed them behind my back at this. But to be fair, any pain that came would be in the service of pleasure, and for the most part involved sexual embarrassment, one of the most potent sources of manna available with this group. They had to be compliant to my requests, but I also didn’t want to turn them blasé either, that would produce mediocre results. They had to remain engaged with the process. Robots wouldn’t do at all. But controlling them was at times like herding cats.
“Today I’m going to explain some stuff, talk about some rules, pass out some gifts and bestow some special super-human powers to some of you. Super-human sex powers that is. I’ll even answer some questions.”
Marc regreases and proceeds to grasp each hand in turn, repeating the phrase as I taught him. Going well so far.
“OK, now Rose,” I say.“You better also remove your nightie to keep it from getting dirty. Rose, stand in front of the mattress here.” She’s left standing awkwardly in a tiny thong and heels. Marc pulls the thong down her legs revealing that the carpet does indeed match the drapes. She steps out, and he stands close in front of her, eye to eye. Marc smiles gently and nods, she nods back.
Marc was naked except for a new leather vest that opens on his lightly-haired chest, his stiff prick rampant. He scoops some more cream out of the jar and starts to smear it across Rose’s chest. A series of expressions show on her face, worry, acceptance, relaxation and then a flush of arousal.
“Not only are Rose’s boobs magic, so is the cream. There is a jar here for each of you.”
As Marc rubs, Rose lays her hands on top of his and starts to moan. “You don’t know how good this feeeels!”
The group gawks as Marc dips another glob of cream out of the open jar and starts to slowly circle a greasy finger around each nipple. Rose’s head throws back and moans. Moisture drips from her cunt down her leg. Marc helps her lay back on the mattress and gets down, straddling on top of her. He starts thrusting his dick between her tits, holding them with spread fingers pressing her close around his tool.
I guess I have become distracted in control the group, for the always first to be contrary Sam blurts out “Incest is wrong.”
It’s obviously been on his mind, and he’s noticed Carl watching Rose moan in ecstasy has given him the impetus to give voice to these thoughts.
I had up to then avoided family fun—the constituent parts of me taken from the Cosmo and Playboy disapproved, and thus there was no real wealth of manna to be gathered from any of that type of acts. I’d kept mum about this though.
“Is it wrong wrong, or is it wrong in a naughty sexy way?” I ask.
Troy blurts, “Naughty sexy” which earns him a scorching glare from all others in the room except for Rose, who’s breathing hard and approaching another orgasm.
“Wrong wrong” says Sam, and Betty nods agreement.
“OK, I can live with that, as long as you all who have kin among us agree. And you realize that this will make the time needed before you are permanently shielded longer, other acts will have to be done to fill in.” Nods all around.
“Sam, your vote is obvious. Betty too. Carl?”
Carl seems regretful, takes a peek at Rose’s heaving chest, and then at Sheila who’s glaring at him, “Wrong,” he says with a touch of sorrow in his voice. The others who have votes say so to.
“OK. Can do. No incestuous acts. Promise. Yet you’re still going to see your children, parents, siblings engaged in various sex acts” I dip towards Will and Annette, “But that’s all. Like Carl and Sheila are now. Carl, Sheila, feel comfort in the pleasure Rose is now feeling, look close and see that it is making her very, very happy. Powers and gifts won’t work across kin either, but will for married couples. Carl, wait ‘till you see what Sheila can do. And vice versa. Woo woo, hubba hubba, and toot toot!”
Just then Marc came all over Roses chest, neck and face. Still hard he pumped again, and squirted a second time. She began to leak fluid, and on the third thrust and third cum she actually squirted from her cunt into the air. Three more times this happened as Marc squirted and then she did, before Marc rolled off her onto the mattress, spent.
As Marc came the first time, Will felt a lightheaded rush of pleasure, his cock jerked reflexively. On the second squirt the same happened to Aram, and then once for each of the other men, except for Carl.
As Marc and Rose recovered their breath, I explained, “OK, time to explain Marc’s gift. It’s actually all the guy’s gift, if you think about it. Every time he cums, he shares a spurt with one of you guys. He gets half the pleasure, you get the other half. No matter where you are. The last cum is his one hundred percent though. If he was a superhero he’d be named Mr. Bountiful. This comes with a warning though. Remember I can’t create mass, so I have to borrow the jism. That comes from you, so to speak. From the past, wet dreams that were not wet, orgasms where no spunk came out. It’s more than luck that Stella and Rose haven’t yet got pregnant, the unprotected fucking they’ve done with some of you.”
“This means that once we are done, and I promise that this day will happen, whenever Marc leaves a load up a snatch there is a one in seven chance that any child conceived will have your paternity. But I intend to talk more about reproduction—birth control and health later. For the short term I’ve slowed the aging process of the ladies cycles to a crawl, they cannot get pregnant until I return them to normal.” I didn’t mention that “normal” was never going to happen. It was going to be more fun than that.
“We’re not done with these two yet. Rose sit up; Marc, no cream needed this time. Remember what to say?”
“Yes”
“OK, so far nothing much more than a good plastic surgeon and implants has been shown vis-a-vis Rose’s charms. Now for the magic. You may have noticed however how much she enjoyed it. That’s for two reasons. The magic cream increases nerve sensitivity while making the skin both tougher and more elastic, yet soft and smooth. Valuable stuff that. Good thing I’m giving you a source. The other reason is magic—her tits are now each wired to the same place in her brain as her clit, but only gradually switched on when they are being used for sex. So it’s like she has two big clits being rubbed when anyone tit fucks her long enough. Don’t worry, every guy here but Carl will get a chance. Don’t looks so hangdog Carl. Oh, and the same goes for her nipples. Like clits on top of clits. So she has up to five clits now instead of one, though only after an extended tit-job. Lucky girl. Ok, next step, Marc.”
“Can I get that?” Gail asks. Looking into their minds the other women I see they are all wishing they’d thought to ask this first.
“No duplications, sorry. But I haven’t told you yet what you will experience, and you may like that even better. Though as our instigators Rose and Stella are getting the greatest number of modifications. Some Stella doesn’t know of yet. Won’t that be fun?” If I could be seen looking I would have turned with the others to scan Stella’, who’s turned an embarrassed crimson, involuntarily giving her bum a wiggle.
They turn back to the main action when, as we rehearsed, Marc says, “Milky Rose,” while gently squeezing her right tit with one hand. It lactates, squirting white milk into his other cupped palm, which he licks clean. She moans slightly. “Milky Rose Orange Juice,” Marc says and squeezes again, harder, pulling her breast outward slightly. This time from the nipple a spurt of OJ shoots out. Marc has caught it again. She moans a little louder, one hand slyly sneaking towards her pussy.
“Annette, come taste this,” I command. Annette doesn’t look thrilled, but comes over and slurps it out of Marc’s hand. “Well?”
“It’s orange juice alright.”
“Hand Marc a glass”. She does, and then goes back and sits down.
“Milky Rose Old Waukegan.” This time Marc gives her a much firmer squeeze and tug, and a stream of clear tan liquid flows into the glass Marc holds up to catch it. Rose takes a big gulp of air. She is now openly masturbating with her left hand. Marc squeezes again, and another stream shoots from her tit into the glass.
“Sam.”
Sam gets up and takes the glass from Marc. “It is. Cold too.”
“Yes, I’m afraid your beer cans in the fridge are all slightly less full now. I can’t create mass, I can only move it. ”
“Any potable liquid can be summoned out of her milk factory. You can’t say ‘Milky Rose Sulfuric Acid” for example. And it has a side effect on her, she gets hornier and hornier every time you do it until she cums. And she can’t orgasm like this by rubbing herself, no matter how hard she tries. And each time you milk her udders they grow just a bit, and don’t return to the “normal” size until she cums, then they take a half hour or so to shrink, leaking anything left in them out slowly.”
“How many times did you make her cum when we filled the Magic Cream jars, Marc?”
“14—one for each”
“And what did it take?”
“Me coming in her or on her—that brought her off.”
An image flashed through Rose’s mind of the future. her in the Will’s basement, on the couch, topless as one guy after the other sucked beer from her boobies, then fucked them all evening long as she came and came. Her breasts enormously swollen and leaking, her begging for an orgasm again and again, cunt on fire. Then she almost-but-not-quite wet herself, again.
Sam interjected, “That seems cruel.”
“Maybe a little, but that’s the price of the magic. You don’t have to milk her. There is a way she can bring herself off to go back to normal if there isn’t a willing male around. Do you want to see it?”
“Yesssssss” Rose moans in sexed-up frustration. “Now, Nowwwww! ”
“OK, in a second. Keep your boiler stoked for a bit longer. By the way, Carl, Sheila, because it’s transported from elsewhere you can use the cream and drink any liquid from the Rose soda fountain, but by the incest rule you can’t milk her yourselves. But ask her nice and she’ll allow anyone else here to refill any of these cream jars. And you really should all experiment with the cream. Did I mention it’s magic? And it’s safe to consume, with a mild vanilla taste.”
“OK, Vicky, open the big wrapped box in the corner and place what’s inside it on the mattress in front of Rose and plug it in. Bring the black felt marker as well and give it to Marc”
Vicky gets up. Her eyes are wide, she’s not really part of these people’s lives, but has found herself surrounded by perverts, aliens and suburbanites. She undoes the gift wrap to show a loosely closed plain cardboard box. Inside the box is what looks like a white leather saddle with a flat solid bottom and some obvious heft from a motor inside with a rubber dildo sticking up from the center. An electrical cord comes from the base. When Vicky plugs it in it starts to hum and move imperceptibly. Rose goes up on her knees, pushes it under her and sits squarely on the artificial dick and slides up and down causing a wet slurping sound over the vibrator’s hum. Still, she doesn’t cum, though the guys are all transfixed as her now extra-sized boobs swing wildly as she works herself into a frenzy.
“She can bring herself off with any dildo, cucumber, electric tooth brush, whatever, but it has to be prepared properly. To use it needs to have her first name on it, written, etched, or carved permanently and prominently. Marc, help Rose out and write her name on the front of that .”
Marc uncaps the marker, “Permanent”, and using one hand to steady the base—Rose’s bush grazing the back of his hand on each downward motion—he prints in large block letters “R O S E”, and as the “E” is completed she cums, loudly, with another flush of fluid all over Marc’s fingertips.
“Will. Sheila. Grab some of those paper towels and tissues and help them clean up then change the sheet, Don’t forget to wipe the liner. Betty, Annette, get a round of beverage for all. I think there are some fluids that need replacing.”
For maybe half a minute of stunned silence all is quiet except for some quietly whispered drink orders.
Will approached Rose with a roll of paper towels and for a second it looked like he was going to wipe her down, but she grabbed the roll out of his hands and started sopping up the now cooling sticky fluids from her body. Her tits are contracting, and there is a slow stream of cold beer flowing from her teats down her chest and stomach, no longer able to fit in the shrinking fun bags. Marc’s cum has started to dry and coats most of the upper body. She gets it off her face, but there is a white rim in her hair hardening around the edges framing her mug in jizz.
Rose had tried to show indifference since the end of her and Marc’s exhibition, though all the guys—and a few of the gals—eyes were glued to her hot bod as it wiggled and jiggled through the cleaning. At one point she caught Andy staring at her and turned cherry bright in embarrassment, but kept on going. She wasn’t enjoying this at all, but she was excited by it, and felt relieved that her part was over.
After Rose wiped herself down—Bounty, the quicker picker-upper paper towels for the wettest bits and then a blue terry bathroom washcloth to finish, she put the peignoir back on, and reached to button the front, though in shrinking back to “normal” she continued to empty her milk glands of the Old Waukegan—some was being absorbed too, and she was getting a little drunk. “Rose, leave it open. Spread your robe over Troy’s lap and sit on it. Troy, you’d better hold on to her in in case she should fall off. Don’t let that beer go to waste.”
Rose started to say something again, but thought about it and kept her lips sealed, and as she sat on Troy’s lap, one of his arms wrapped around her waist, the other tentatively and then more boldly cupped her exposed breast. There! Troy rewarded. There was a look on pure, unbelieving joy on his face as he said, “Wow, these are great! Bodatious!” Then he licked a drop of beer off each tip. A gentle squeeze helped empty them faster, and his sucking lips were sure to catch it all, wrapped around the nipples with each milking tug.
I could see that Rose was still very frightened of me—and had some idea of who I was and what I could do. But there was also some relief there as well, I hadn’t asked anything from them that went beyond sex—ritual sacrifice, self-mutilation, murder or shopping at K-Mart. And if the price she had to pay was to have bigger tits and lots of sex, well that wasn’t too bad, really. I should say that by this point I was guiding her thoughts somewhat, and Troy fondling her was starting to heat her up again. Hence the robe on Troy’s lap, to absorb any new moisture.