"Please don't jump out of the car," his chauffeur asked. "We are deeply empathic, and it would cause great distress if you injured yourself." Her voice was a near shout - to make herself heard over the roar of the wind. His chiseled pectorals heaved, the wind gathering a strand of his long, dark hair.

"Not like you care, you're a predator - I'm your meat."

"You have a lot to learn, big guy." She furrowed her eyebrows as if genuinely hurt. Her name was Rapture, (of course) and she came from a multi-man seraglio built out of the Mayor's house. The aliens would be running everything soon enough, as man after man succumbed to the spine-arching delights of a never ending orgy. Strangely, this SheMorph was actually clothed! The black cocktail dress was actually more striking for the contrast with the other alien women accosting him today.

"Why did it have to be us; why Earth?" Xavier demanded; still fighting with his own dick. Rapture's proximity wasn't helping any. She was clearly a Venus, with a curious likeness to a molasses-misted Sofia Vergara, dipped in gold-dust. A bizarre black-blond exotic fantasy. In the sunlight, her hair cast highlights in the colors of sunset. 

"Because Earth is my home." She stated matter-of-factly.

"No... There’s nothing like you from here, you must be alien." He was trying to be deliberately adversarial - it seemed the best way to combat the covetous instinct to force himself between her taut thighs in the name of carnal release. Part of the reason he'd hoped in with her was because - as a Venus she had no direct mind-bending powers; she was simply glitteringly gorgeous in a way that defied nature. But he could resist! Xavier didn't have to give in to the gut-twisting hunger to seize her like a piece of pirate-booty that he might conquer her with his cock. "You're something else; from somewhere else. Where did you really come from?"

"We came from men. From the eternal male urge to sire his seed into every fertile female he can. Where an opportunity exists; nature will find a way to exploit it."

"Wh- that doesn't make sense."

"Before men, there were no human memories. Instinct without words. There was simply the desire the sperm."

Xavier rolled his eyes.

"We all remember the sea. A coast. There was a man; younger - college aged. This man, our first man - he would masturbate three - sometimes five times a day. In various places. Through his seed, we Became."

The Lamborghini made a sharp turn, heading downtown.

Xavier was starting to get it.

"You masqueraded as women to get this kid's jizz?"

"Masquerade suggests intent. Planning. It was not until our Ancestor *was* a woman that an idea like that made sense.

"The First man never questioned waking up to a strange woman in his bed - his dick was too hard. It didn't matter where we came from - he just fucked us. Our ancestor. It was a victory for him. The how didn't matter.

"What do you mean - *us*?" Xavier wondered.

"There was a first Ancestor; we share her memories. What she knew was shared when she became the first Harem. His words. TV. Playboy. Cosmo. We learned to think as women. To fuck."

Given enough time, they would be smarter than any man alive, Xavier knew. All the better to seduce you with... 

"In ten generations a ship... a yacht came to the shore where the Man's beach house was. The harem was too large for the small house; and we were women enough to attract the man on the boat. Three of us went."

On a ship they would have mobility, they could spread to so many beaches... Xavier realized with a frown.

"The Yacht man was old, but rich. There were twenty-four of us by the time we learned about death."

He shook his head.

"Heart failure, you fucked him to death. The first casualty." Xavier sighed.

"He never told us to stop. And he enjoyed every minute of it. That was when we knew we needed to find many men, to spread out."

"Well not me, I won't go down without a fight."

"We've never raised a hand in anger. My kind is peaceful."

That, he realized was also a weapon: Not a direct threat, no need to retaliate. Until men spawned so many that fighting back was impossible. It worked.

"From your tone and body language, it's clear you want to blame us. You think we 'invaded' you. But for our part, we know that man's lust created us. And we reward our men every day of their lives."

The car sped past a gaggle of Sirens on a street corner.

This... gave him food for thought. Rapture's narrative left a lot of holes, but he could read between the lines. Who planned the Black Plague? Was syphilis anyone's plot? Sometimes in nature, different factors line up in the right way, at the right time, and you have a breakout moment. An Epidemic. The ultimate venereal disease.

"Don't be alarmed, Xavier. Don't think I'm going to hurt you." That was when she started to pump his cock, while revving the engine. The brilliance of the plan struck him even as his dick grew harder still - in a speeding sports car, trying to fight back, jumping out would be too dangerous; she could jerk him off with one hand, keep the other on the wheel.

"Something you should know about me..." Her voice rose to compete with the wind. "The Mayor's house is a huge seraglio. Eight men in total comfort. Mayor and his staff are treated the same by the harems. Money doesn't matter to us."

More proof they weren't human! He reflected ruefully.

"And I can have all of their cocks. I have valuable skills; bring in a lot of money for the seraglio. So I get priority access to the dicks of the Mayor and his male staff, and wealthy friends.

"That means I'm not desperate. I can get sperm when I need it. Not like these street dwellers. Then I realized that some men are better than others.

"Men like you."

Xavier swallowed. He should have tried something, anything... but damn - he wanted to cum; and they couldn't enslave him with a handjob? Could they? 

"Jusssst a handjob, just relax..." He gripped her arm but - damn he needed to cum! He didn't... didn't pull her hand away.

"I don't want just any man," Rapture continued. "Some of us watch you. You specifically. The men that are still holding out draw attention."

"mmmmnnnhhh...." damn, her hands felt good!

"We know about you, your mission. The work you do. It... excites me! Not just a man, I choose you, Xavier Cecilman!"

"N-noo..." but it felt goooood! The car slowed, lessening the wind which allowed her to talk in a lower tone.

"Shall I tell you about my dreams? They're about you." Her thumb teased the tip of his raging dick. Xavier moaned.

"You've pulled me away from my harem, because you crave my body so much. In your penthouse, you pin me against the wall, and I can see the skyline behind you; as you hike up my dress. I can feel your hands gripping my wrist, like now - and you take me harrrrrd. Hard and ruthless because you just wanna cum... inside meeee!" With her other hand, she reached inside her dress - between her thighs.

"So easy... to get wet for youuuu...." She moaned. Rapture braced her knee against the steering wheel, guiding the Lamborghini as she performed sex acts with either hand. "You just need to cummm... inside me! You overpower me with your male strength. Helpless; dominated by your virile force! I... am impaled by the power of the pleasure of your ramrod cock as you SLAM your seed into meeeee!!!" She removed her hand from her own cunt and whacked the car's horn. "I... am a sacrificial victim, offered up to the spurting power of your male lust!!!" Her brow furrowed as she writhed her desire.

Xavier roared, at long last - his long-suffering cock at last unleashing his white-hot reward against the glove compartment. Release. Delight. The shivering afterglow of satisfied endorphins.

And She didn't move. Just smiled at him.

"Y-you, you're not going to..."

"To feast on your sperm like a junkie dying of thirst? No." She pulled the Lamborghini into the parking lot of a closed toddler and maternity store. Then straddled his lap.

"I don't want more sperm, I can get sperm. I want the Man! Not just his dick!" With that, her blue-violet eyes glinted, and she began kissing him furiously; making a sensual cooing sound. That gave him pause - a SheMorph passing up sperm?

Put still, the risks... the cost.

"No, I won't give you-”

"Instead of telling me what you won't do - first you should listen to what I have to say."

Rapture held up an I-pad and opened a clip.

"Remember when I said that some of my sisters watch you? Well they do more than that - we've picked up I.T. skills from some of our studs, and they've managed to hack the security system in your building."

His eyes widened, "What the FUCK! But... wait... if you're telling me that then -”

"Then it means I'm willing to warn you about a breach in your security. You're worried about one of us infiltrating your... unique business." The portion of the clip displayed on screen was the elevator leading up to Xavier's personal suite. A woman wearing high-heel shoes entered; but from this camera angle - he couldn't hope to identify her.

"But that's already happened. By watching your camera feeds, we can prove that one of us is on the inside already." 

His blue eyes widened; this... could be big. That really was his elevator. Somehow, the SheMorphs really did have someone inside. In the end, Xavier knew he'd been a fool; thinking he could live in the city still, with so many of them. They would just keep at it. As man after man succumbed to the pleasure of a harem, the competition for the few holdouts would only escalate. 

But he'd escaped their clutches when they'd gotten in each other's way in their pursuit of him. Maybe it could work again. Besides, Xavier had been thinking that maybe he was going about things all wrong...

"What do you want?"

Rapture slid out of her cocktail dress, teasing with progressive exposure of her Double-D handfuls and a taut, chocolatey body. Sofia Vergara face shaded seductively by a blond flow of hair.

"You want me to fuck you." He could do that. You could fuck a SheMorph once, and stay sane. But then, that's probably what the General had thought. Xavier understood the problem with Venuses: Exhaustion. It just got to be too much of a burden holding back the throbbing urge to fuckrape one of them.  

"No."

"Wait? No?"

"I told you; I don't just want a dose of your sperm, soon - but not yet."

"Then..."

"My breasts. See how high, perky and fertile they are? We're all so fertile, all the time. I'll give you the password to unlock the recording... if you suck the milk from my breasts!"

Xavier gasped. That was how they trapped you! But... she wasn't an Ambrosia. All SheMorphs lactated, but Venus' didn't specialize in it. They were simply glittering goddesses of radiant glamour. Not an Ambrosia, it should be possible to stay sane.

"Of course, you could conquer me. Fuck your seed into me, and take me back home as your concubine. We have an instinct that compels us to defer to the man that provides us with sperm." She offered with a cunning smile.

A trap. 

Perhaps he wasn't thinking clearly. Perhaps it was the blowjob from Blush, combined with the pheromones from the breeding blonde. Or the unfortunate fact that her chiseled supermodel glamor was just so... exhausting! It was taking more and more energy to fight his instincts and not give in. 

So he placed his lips upon her plump, dark nipples - and began to suck. Rapture cooed, and stroked his hair. She hadn't specified how long he had to partake from her bounty, because that was up to him.

Before the invasion, anyone able to bottle this up would put Ben & Jerry's, StarBucks, and Baskin Robbins out of business. The question was, after tasting her feminine nectar could he stop himself from sucking her dry? He might as well be drinking creamed cocaine.

He knew the risks; you take a SheMorph home, she fucks you - serves you - doses your food with her milk; and the sex hormones that turn a man into a rutting sperm fountain. By the time a man realizes the trap he's fallen into - he's already addicted to her milk, and can't go two hours without raping his sperm into her. Next thing he knows, his bedroom has become a strip club, and HE would be the one forever bereft of pants.

Already he could feel his balls tingling. No matter what else did or didn't happen today his cock would be larger come morning. Harder. Hornier. More sperm. More lust.

Just as the aliens wanted.

With a roar he disengaged. Shuddering with the pleasure of her narco-lactation. Sickened by the realization that the sexual yearnings he was failing to suppress would be even stronger tomorrow.

Rapture postured, bending her arms behind her blond head, thrusting her still-moist boobs into view, cooing her own rapture. Giving milk gave them sexual pleasure; probably everything did. Not an Ambrosia, but her breasts seemed to plump up just then; shadows darkening on the way to her navel as she crept up a cup size to entice him to finish what he started. She'd be watching closely; learning the boob size that would best arouse his lusts.

"Surrrre that's all you want?"

"G-give me the information." He demanded, flushed - balls throbbing as he felt his sperm-count increasing even then.

She unlocked her I-pad, pulled up the entire video - hacked from his building's own security system.

"No way....."

"It's your own feed."

"Lies... gotta be... can't be!"

"You always knew. Always knew it was her."


**********

One Week Later...


In baggy sweats, Xavier strode towards the elevator; passing rows of windows looking out over the city skyline. The entire building; this skyscraper was his. It was a rare serendipity that put him at the top of the new economic pyramid created by the Invasion.

So here he was, in front of the elevator door. He no longer cared how much January protested. She had no reason to get all high-and-mighty anymore.

But it was still difficult to take that final plunge. But his plan was sound - or at least, the best he could do; given the circumstances. He was too attractive, too much a prize. No way to go back to a normal life - he didn't even know what that would look like these days.

The SheMorphs would get to him eventually. He often speculated on which Strain would be the most interesting to succumb to. But no; he had another idea. What he wanted to avoid was being besotted by some random street-walker and be whisked away to some far-off Seraglio to ejaculate his life away and never contribute anything to the world but a few hundred more SheMorphs. No... he needed to avoid that fate.

There was a mad audacity to his plan. The SheMorph population was projected to reach a billion worldwide soon; repression didn't work. The militaries that resisted them only served to provide breeding grounds for more seductive variants. We could fight them, but it only took one man. The Last SheMorph on Earth only needed one man to shelter her, mate with her. In a year, as his cock enhanced he could breed a hundred others. They were as smart as us, maybe more so. And with modern transportation, the World would be their Bordello. Just one man willing to fuck a supermodel nymphomaniac and their kind could not be wiped out.

 No... He could make the new world order work for him - instead of fighting the sexy, sexy, tide. 

But this was a very special elevator. There was a small screen built into the wall next to it. A necessity. Of course his business was infiltrated by SheMorphs - always had been. 

But this was the first time he considered violating his own precautions. Any woman entering this elevator would be presented with a series of advertisements on another built-in screen on the left wall. Soon enough, it would flash an image of a man dropping his pants with a steel-hard nine-inch cock. 

None of them, not even the savvy ones could resist it. The lust cut both ways. The General couldn't keep his dick in his pants, (while he had them) and they couldn't keep their boobs in their tops. So their breasts would grow - often just a cup size; lips might plump, a coo of yearning - an invisible burst of mind-melting sex-musk, or her ass might plump up. Delicate sensors would detect it - and the elevator would open into a second lobby far away from any hope of a cock, and the SheMorph would be give a 'don't call us, we'll call you' excuse.

Xavier's cell rang. It was Agnes. 

"HCG's came back. Six more confirmed."

"Cayman accounts."

"Done."

"Better you never would've believed it ten years ago." Agnes supplied. 

No, he never would have imagined that he could get paid for impregnating women.

Human women. It was getting seriously difficult to find a man - any man willing to go through the dating game. Why bother, when SheMorphs were throwing themselves at anyone with a hard dick? Then, it got hard to find any man at all. Normal women were banding together in their own tight-knit circles, it wasn't clear what the future would hold. Then there were the 'married' women who realized that they'd been sleeping with the enemy for months, while their real husbands had cocked out for a harem. It started out for the rich, but Xavier was thinking of ways to expand.

And SheMorphs; they worked for sperm.

Another call, from January. He ignored it. She had no right; not after what happened.

The screen inside the elevator showed a familiar face. From McDonald's, it was Vixen. The redheaded siren. She wasn't being seductive really, she'd been crying - there was a desperation about her. Watching her for a time, Xavier came away with the impression that this was simply a last-ditch effort - at survival.

There were hierarchies among SheMorphs, and he had to conclude Vixen was on the low end. It was still possible to see a man on the street for now, but the big Seraglios were building well organized operations to follow, isolate, and seduce them - as he'd seen with the Japanese Businessman, and Nebraska boy. Many SheMorphs just couldn't compete with the big man-hunting teams.

This was her last hope. A pity fuck?

But Xavier - his plans were bigger than that.

She was on him as soon as the elevator opened. Moaning, kissing, pathetically grateful. Able to sense his hard-dicked desires through the walls. Melon-tits erupted from her blouse as she stripped away her silky pretense of civility.

"Bear your seed, I'll bear your seed, I'm already your fuckslave!" She moaned.
Xavier nuzzled her tender throat and shoulders, pinning her to the elevator wall - meaty hand struggling to hold her voluminous boobs. His gut twisted with desire; she seemed to understand the stage of contamination he was at, her words sinking into his subconscious. 

Women. They should bear his seed. 

He wanted to suck on her nipples; but he had something to get out before risking the intoxication of her sex-milk.

Her panties were already around her ankles as Xavier's probing fingers found her sex. Her drenching sex.

"We need to talk."

"I am the vessel of your male des-"

"Sperm," He interrupted. That got her attention. "But you have to work for it." She nodded, but she got his attention too - where a human would be skin and bones, a starving SheMorph was a vivid sight. She needed genetic material to grow and survive, without it - 

Her bouncy red hair shimmered into night-black with red tips, then blond tips, as her eyes flashed blue, hazel, then green on the left and violet on the right. And her tits; plumping up even as he fondled her. Xavier could feel the skin sliding past his palms as Vixen lost control over her body's breast-inflating fertility impulse.

Without the genetic material from a man's seed - her body didn't know what to be. She was losing control of her shapeshifting powers. A panoply of women. Pinning her, raging cock teasingly poised before her juicing cunt he made his proclamation:

"I'm recruiting you. I fuck you, and I own you."

"B-body and soul!" agreed the hungering alien whore. When he penetrated her slickening sex, she had become a raven-haired beauty, like most of the Sirens.

"I'll cum in your cunt, but you have to say that I ownnnnn you..."

"Y-you own me..."

"Can't... hear you!" He tensed himself as her throbbing sex quivered around his penetrating meat - but she was a honey blonde with absurdly plump lips.

"You OWN me!"

"Again..." He grated, holding himself inside her, restraining his desire...

"I'M YOUR SEXUAL PROPERTY!!! YOU ARE MY MASTER FOREVER!!!" Bemoaned the now red-and blond-striped slut with Native-American features.

Xavier let himself go to the pleasure.

But Vixen, he held her tight. Hands gripping her wrists, he hoisted her like a condemned prisoner against the wall, as he pistoned into her cunt yet faster. He allowed himself to suck on her nipples; knowing the dick-enhancing dangers of the narcotic lactate. As her breasts ripened around his face, he lost sight of her own protean features. Her skin had darkened to an olive-shade by the time he finally exploded within her.

The white-hot river of pleasure gushed into her as he roared his delight. He wanted to hold her confined as he inseminated her; to communicate his possession of the lusty alien. After all this, he'd probably gain a half-inch of dick size by tonight! No getting around it, SheMorphs would get to him eventually, over time his cock would grow; but there was a way he could make it work for him. 

He once advised someone else that when confronted with the unexpected, you had to run with it. Can't wily under pressure. Not that his dick was likely to wilt anytime soon.

"Life... Life... Hot. Throbbing Life. Inside me.  Please rule us. She slumped into his arms, he carried her as she settled back into a milky-skinned Christina Hendricks red head. "Fuck me, yes - but we also crave the dominion of an alpha male." She moaned, looping her white arms around his shoulders. "Rule me as my Cock King."

What better way to disarm a potential enemy?

"Well, you asked for it - so you got it. What I have in mind is -"

"Pregnant... I really, believed it!" Came a voice from behind him.

It was January, and her womb was throbbing. She was naked, tearful - and about to give birth. But there was no need for a hospital...

Because her belly swelled absurdly large; as arms and legs shaped themselves out of the gravid bulge. And then hair. Another woman was growing out of January's belly.

Because she was a SheMorph.

That was when Rapture strode up casually behind her.

"It turns out your scientists did make some interesting discoveries." Rapture was barely-wearing a pull-over sleeveless dress made of linked golden beads, teasingly hinting at her feminine perfection beneath.

"All those SheMorphs captured, studied in underground military labs; turns out the scientists did make progress before succumbing to the promise of their own harems." She caressed January's ripening breasts as my lover, partner, most trusted confidante writhed in the throes of the alien reproduction cycle.

"You men, with your wars and schemes and violence. When your militaries discovered what we could do, you tried to reprogram us, control us to use as deep-cover spies. January was one of the early successes - needing less sperm to survive, slower shape-shifting, conditioned to believe she was human."

"I didn't know!" The spy said, writhing as her belly bucked.

"But it was a two-way street. Your enemies did the same to you. But it didn't matter in the long run - The urge to break security was undeniable. No man involved with us could hold out forever." Delicate fingers graced the ass of the new woman sculpting herself out of January.

"Hate us, fight us. It doesn't matter. If you're a real man, you'll end up fucking us regardless."

"There's a better way." Xavier grated, beefy cock growing hard yet again, despite the massive load he'd just hosed Vixen with.

"And a problem. What happens when every man on Earth has cocked out, when no human woman can find a dick small enough to impregnate her?" Most SheMorphs planned to Natalize quickly, and never worried about something that far into the future - but Xavier did.


**********

Sometimes, Xavier liked watching the examinations. He could see the latest customer on screen. A nervous forty-something with crow’s feet. Profile said that she'd discovered her husband had been sending shapeshifting aliens to take his place for nine months. But she wanted a baby before it was too late - and there was no way to compete with the beauty-demons regularly throwing themselves at anyone with a hard cock. 

She was nervous around the too-gorgeous-to-be-a-real-woman technician in a lab coat that smilingly invited her to lie down for the 'physical exam'. The techs were well-fed. Well compensated for their role in the deception.

He flicked a button on a control panel.

And saw... himself. His own muscled body and dark hair was entwined around a moaning human customer in this very building, writhing - thrusting - moving together...

They came from Luscious' harem. Some SheMorphs had an Omni-sexual frenzy that extended to woman as well as men. It was going on in three locations simultaneously within this skyscraper. Women were artificially inseminated during the 'examination', while the actual fucking was just theatre.

By now, Xavier dare not risk a real woman with his erect shaft - he was over a foot now; and still growing. But his sperm itself was more potent than ever.

But it was all his sperm. All from his ever-more potent cock.

Running was difficult now, but he still made a point of chasing Eden through his roof greenhouse when he could, the slutty alien so yearned to be a nymph of legend, chased down by a rutting beast of a man, and he took her from behind - bending her over with her face in the potting soil for a palm tree. He held her tightly, pinning her arms behind her back as he reamed her rectum with his phallic invader. His sperm shot into her like cannon salvos, and he slapped her jiggling ass to add to her feeling of ravishment. He finished with a guttural snarl, pressing his weight down as completed his seminal violation.

"Ohhhh.... m-master. Great Sire. I am a leaf in the wind of your virile storm! Your seed! Your seed rules me!" The alien slut moaned as she shuddered in the potting soil.

"Just do your job." Xavier commanded. His dick still not fully soft. Eden could only coo in rapturous afterglow. But she would do her job - maintain the garden. We all had our tasks.

Next up was a status update. He descended back down, to the 41st floor of his Tower; there was an office staffed with Charybdis' they were very empathic; good at sensing emotions remotely.

"How many?" Was his voice getting deeper?

"Five hundred twelve confirmed pregnancies, with thirty-seven clients in queue." Announced a blond bombshell with a Patrician nose dressed in pink lingerie.

"Who's ahead in retention?" Xavier grumbled. Of course it was Blush. She had convinced the greatest number of human female clients to reserve Xavier's services again after a successful insemination. He took her by the arm and dragged her to the center of the department space, to a motorized, rotating mattress installed for just this purpose.

Her reward has to be taken; from behind, his hands clenching her slender waist as Xavier's cock rose Phoenix-like to ravage her willing cunt. But this itself was a sweet torture; for a Charybdis really craved a face-fuck. He got himself hard, throbbing as he pumped away into her tight little Asian snatch; activity on the floor ceased, the erotic energy of the coupling made it impossible for the SheMorph staff to concentrate on anything else.

Clothing melted away, as ravishing lovelies squeezed their breasts, driven to distraction by the sexual charge in the air. A sunny blonde with high cheekbones fell from her chair, gurgling as she dug fingers into her own juicing cunt. A pair of olive-skinned Middle-Eastern girls started panting, and then crashed together, devolving into a Sapphic sixty-nine as the energy from the fucking drove them to each other's pussies.

He spun Blush around, jamming his raging rod into her open mouth; delighted in her squealings as a powerful gout of seed gushed down her throat. Pulling out, he gave her a pearl-necklace upon her shuddering face and shoulders, as she panted her delight. It didn't last long; her body absorbed sperm like a sponge, but for a moment she was lustily graced by his raging jizz. She moaned, collapsing into her feeding-ecstasy; as her body extracted the vital genetic material she couldn't replicate herself.

Next up was the lab. He was met by his Security - a towering platinum blond, the daughter of the amazon that had been chasing him since McDonalds that fateful day. A part of him felt that she deserved a reward for her enthusiasm. But she'd natalized the first time he'd fucked her - so now Xavier tasked her offspring with security.

"All quiet on the home front?"

"Not quite," Her name was Glisten, and her blue security uniform strained over her cleavage, a blatant chasm of boobage visible between the buttons. "A Venus harem has rented a helicopter and plans to flash their tits at your penthouse tonight; around 8pm."

He chuckled.

"Don't worry about it; I'll just enjoy the show."

It turned out, Venus' were attentive to details, and could be excellent technicians.

Kitten had not disappointed him. Not like G-man would miss her. But she was growing steadily, the sparkling goddess wore a white lab coat parted down the middle; and nothing underneath. 

"Preservation has improved," she informed him. "We've managed to increase viability by an additional 72 hours!" She gestured like Vanna White towards a row of metallic cylinders similar to something used to store helium. His output was already so great that they had decided to sell it. Kitten was competent; but looked more like a pornographic parody of a scientist than an actual one.

Wordlessly, Xavier stuck his middle finger into her cunt and fingered an orgasm out of her. She didn't need his sperm right now - already well fed. He chuckled a bit as she shuddered her pleasure against his shoulder.

He'd been going about it the wrong way - if a man could accept having a crowbar-length cock, and a sperm count to impregnate a high school - then it was easy to mold them into a flexible, inventive workforce. But it took willpower. Willpower to keep ordering them around no matter how big you got.

"Please Master, if I have pleased you...?" Her buttons opened, and her breasts seemed to plump up a few sizes like creamy honey-dew melons - with moist nipples. That was something he was learning; not just sperm - the SheMorphs also hungered for a man to suck the milk from her tits. Kitten's tended to be especially intoxicating.

"Maybe for bedtime." He smacked her on the ass.

However, his virility was truly superhuman, and he came to regret not ravishing his chief sperm scientist as he boarded the elevator with his security guard in tow. But that was problem easily remedied...

No explanation, or justification - beyond his primal grunt as he turned the statuesque platinum blond around and shoved her against the wall, tugging at her pants. In moments garments were gone and his hands clasped the slickening skin of the Bacchanal SheMorph he had hired with his sperm. It was so much easier to work his sodomizing cock into her ass than for any human woman - and no woman could savor the experience as could these alien sluts.

But he had a secondary purpose as he slid his steely cock achingly deep into her shuddering rectum, as he began to pump.

"Say it."

"Ohhhh..."

"Say it!"

"MASTERRRR!!! YOU OWN MEEE!!! MY CUNT! MY ASSSS!! I'M YOUR FUCKSLAVE WHORRRRRRE!" gurgled this woman who could've had her pick of million-dollar modeling contracts just ten years ago.

Establishing dominance.

The elevator doors slid open, but Xavier needn't feel the slightest apprehension at being caught with his cock up a subordinate's ass in public. That was the freedom he had now: Passion had been right - this is what he was meant for.

To be surrounded by spectacular women, and asserting the freedom to sire his sperm into any of them, anytime he wished - in any orifice imaginable.

But the notion of this department seeing him; the knowledge that he could fuck so publicly - it made him cum; a hot stream of virile essence jetting into the back door. Glisten gave a gurgling spasm and collapsed into a panting heap. He could produce so much cum now, so easily. Without direction, purpose... the need to ejaculate would consume him: like the General; and the Soldier.

But he was close. And there were plenty that would exult in his descent. This floor was his Advertising department. Nearly a dozen sirens, spreading the word - attracting customers and investors to the corporation *he* controlled:

A corporation dedicated to disseminating his sperm across the world.

Hundreds of pregnancies already, and more to cum.

The Sirens were at desks, with phones and headsets, employees in a business unthinkable a decade ago. Exulting in his freedom he seized a coffee-skinned Latina and began face-fucking her - in the middle of a call to a client.

"You..." He pointed to one of the pale, raven-haired sirens; "Start masturbating."

A pair of identical, dark haired sisters were carrying documents - "You two," he snarled. "Sixty-Nine each other, now!" Not only his tone of voice, but the power - the presence of his cock made the command irresistable. The pair moaned with primal yearning, ripping open their silky blouses as bra-less boobs bounced free in all their jiggling E-cup glory, as the women made out with each other during the slow slide to the floor - completing their journey with each mouth slurping the moistening cunt of the other. For the chance to sexually gratify a virile male, the aliens lost all free will.

He came with a roar down the throat of the Latina; and then tossed her atop the blond security SheMorph, using the pseudo-women, and then casting them off like worn socks - as they writhed in the delicious torment of their feeding cycle. They really were junkies; and he had a fountain of cocaine between his legs.

 The others put clients on hold; unable to concentrate on work against the torrent of sexual energy, clothing disappeared as they began frantically frigging their own - and each other's cunts, and sucking on each other's hardening nipples. Xavier gushed a load onto the sixty-nining couple with a roar.

But it didn't stop.

There was a suspicious anger. These women were not to be trusted - not unless he could mark them with his seed. A maniacal animal rage burned within his tendon-clenched body - to possess and inseminate. The need to claim and control. Only his sperm would make him safe. Cock harder, hotter, hornier than ever - he could feel the tingling throb in his balls, stronger than ever before. He knew what this was - 

He was Cocking Out.

Roaring, he bent to his knees as he gushed over the crowd; near bottomless cock seeding his harem to mark them as his sex-prey.

Or was he theirs? That was when he heard an announcement on a nearby radio:

"... announced a new drug developed by an openly SheMorph laboratory; a new, affordable blood-pressure depressant shown to reduce the incidence of fatal heart attacks in enhanced males by 90%. This breakthrough demonstrates a surprising level of scientific acumen the new species is capable of in the inter-"

They mobbed him. It was the moment he both craved and feared.

"We are your reward, Master!"

"Great Sire! Your Paradise has begun!"

"Rule us with your Cock!"

"Cock King! Cock King!"

With this heart-drug, it would be possible to rule over a harem much longer, with an even bigger cock. More sperm. More sex. More women.

Xavier ejaculated.


**********


In his dream, he could see the city skyline - with the skyscraper of his corporate headquarters dominating. There was a rumbling tremor, the sound of mortar cracking - followed by a burbling of liquid; like lava.

But white.

Like a Hawaiian shield-volcano, slow rivers of molten heat cascaded down from the penthouse of the skyscraper. A river of sizzling sperm poured from the top, to flow down into the city below... 

Soon followed by another white gush, pouring from the opposite side of his tower. Fertilizing. Inseminating.

The city below was filled with women; some human, some SheMorph - it made no difference: All of them began groaning, panting, clutching their bellies...

As they grew pregnant with Xavier's seed. Women, screeching their cars to a halt, pulling down their skirts frantically to allow their suddenly gravid bellies room to expand. A chorus of grunts as fifty navels popped out at once. For these women - all different colors and ethnicities - bras became the enemy.

Straps were clawed at frantically - as C-cups became D, and Double-D's swelled into milk-ripened balloon-like wonders to challenge the bra-maker's craft. The dream-women were helpless before this new plague of fertility; and it was all they could do to stop driving, walking, typing, eating, and lie flat as they could, tearing clothing asunder to allow bellies the freedom to blossom with young, and breasts to ache as they expanded to hold the richness of milk within.

A prim and proper blonde with hair in a tight bun and librarian glasses stumbled moaning out of a door to a three-story office building onto the street - clutching, tearing at her silky blouse as her once slim belly surged into a taut dome of fertile ripening. All the while her clawing hands clutched at the throbbing swell within her traitorously fecund flesh. She squealed as her bra-straps strained into her shoulders, mountainous boobs already darkening the front of her blouse with the gush of milk needed to feed the brood sprouting within her laboring body.

But a freckled redhead was the first to erupt, on her knees as her size-tripled breasts released milk-geysers in time with the beating of her frantic heart. Unlike the blond librarian, squealing in denial as her belly inflated right before her eyes with the young she was destined to feed from her own milk-gushing breasts, the Redhead accepted her fate, Eyes rolling into the back of her head, the freckled woman settled into a rhythm of primal grunts as she spread her legs... adapting to the immutable fact that she was to bear Xavier's young. The young crowded within her gravid womb...


*********

"... to celebrate our Thousandth confirmed pregnancy! With a multiplicity quotient of 3.2!" Came the feminine voice over the intercom that woke Xavier from his dream of outrageous male potency. Not only had a thousand human women been impregnated with his seed; there was a 95% chance that any woman inseminated with him would find herself carrying triplets when she did get knocked up. That meant higher fees for the company.

Nonetheless, Xavier felt wrong... heavier. Balls tingling; tight. There was no doubt about what had happened. Without even looking; he knew from the weight at his groin that he would never again properly screw a human woman. Despite that, his sperm was a commodity that was impregnating men-starved females across the country. Rationally, he realized that he’d had enough pussy to rival the most concubine-hungry Middle-Eastern Sultan, yet he felt the blue-balled tightness of a decades-chaste monk. And the longer he was awake, the greater was the simmering craving for cunt.

Without looking, he knew the truth: Not only was his dick far too large for a human woman, even if he could fit his dick within her; Xavier’s sex drive was now too demanding. There would be no controlling these urges; a real woman would have to be carried out on a stretcher after two days with him. But the aliens; this is what they thrived on.

Earlier, his libido had grown so great that he had sparked an orgy in the advertising department. The SheMorphs would have rode his dick for days on end; more and more of their alien sex venom. He wanted to put off as long as possible the realization of how huge his dick had... had... had...

"Holy Shit!"

Xavier sat up in his four-post, silken-sheet bed in disbelief. Scattered around the floor of the Penthouse suite was a pornographic array of surreal feminine pulchritude; any one of them in the old world could have overturned the modeling industry overnight. Today, they ached with the need to be sexually ravaged by their master. By him. Moaning in pleasure, caressing their breasts and hips, shuddering occasionally as they savored the male reward they had received. You could tell what orifice they had been fuckraped in as Xavier succumbed to the fury of his sexrage. Some stroked their pussies; some their ass-cheeks, others their throats... As intoxicating as these creatures were to men; a good screw was just as ecstatic for them.

Maybe a third of the naked stunners he didn't recognize; he must have been out long enough - released enough sperm for them to Natalize; including the two currently sprawled in bed with him. He recognized the looks they'd inherited from their sports-car driving parent; the new SheMorphs were hyper-glamorous cartoons of Sofia-Vergara, but of a lighter complexion than their parent. He understood the General. Being close to a Venus strain; no mind-bending – but a man needed to fuck her simply for relief from the gut-twisting yearnings. The daughters of Rapture had blond hair striped with red, and the inverse red striped blond, in a dazzling symmetry accentuated by the glitter-embedded perfection of the ultra-glamorous Venus strain. They lounged in bed, luxuriating in the pleasure of the sperm they'd feasted upon. How many old-world Make-up company executives would have committed murder for the chance to feature beauties like these? Most, Xavier realized.

There was a lab coat draped over two dark-haired supermodels with unusually long eyelashes, fingering their own nipples amidst throaty moans on the floor. Oh well; now he'd have two head scientists. 'Human' resources was a whole other ball game in the SheMorph age.


"Oh Master! The wonder of being your plaything....."

He shushed them.

"You're awake." Came a familiar voice as the doors to the Penthouse swung open.

January.

Both Januarys. Slimmed down to Politician-seducing perfection.

"I... we truly believed we were human!" The one of the right protested. "We never believed it was possible for you to... you... you... your cock?"


His cock.

Both January's stared.

At Both his Cocks!

Twinned fifteen-inch long erect penises swayed in virile glory from his groin. The tingling sensation told him that his potency was still on the rise.

The aliens.


They had mutated him in a way never imagined possible. He had become every bit the sex monster they were. The harem was starting to come alive; gasps surrounding him.

He might never know what biological contingencies had led to this abomination; but what he did know is that his sex drive had only grown stronger.

"You think you've won... think I'll just give in and cock out?" Xavier surged forth, struggling to adjust to his altered center of gravity. He loped towards them.

Both of them; replicated. In a fluid motion, he impaled both Januarys on both rampant rods with the same torrid scream.

He was still the man.

Still in control; of his own Cock-Out.





**********

END BOOK 3

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