Gender: Male Age: 29 Location: San Francisco.
|Introduction: Teenage runaways go looking for help at the wrong house...|
Paul was running out of places to put the bodies.
Not the women of course, each of them was nestled in the basement, slumbering peacefully and protecting his precious progeny. He had more than enough room for them. But the men were another matter. Cygax insisted on absorbing the DNA of as many other males as possible so as to enrich the genetic pool . Paul was fine with that in theory, but in practice it was causing him no end of trouble.
Last Monday he had only just barely convinced the alien not to kill the mailman. When a repairman from the power company came by later the same day to fix the meter he too nearly ended up on the menu. Paul explained to the alien, as best he could, that if those men disappeared it would attract unwanted attention. They had to make sure that no one who went missing could be connected to the house in any way. "The nest is the most important thing," he said, trying to put it into terms the creature could relate to, "We can't let it be compromised."
Having two neighboring households vanish over the course of a weekend was bad enough. Paul wished now he had exercised a little more foresight with Lisa and with Jerry's family. There was nothing to connect him directly to the disappearances of course. The police had talked to him, but only as a formality, and they did the same with everyone in the neighborhood, asking when was the last time they saw each of the missing persons and if they had noticed anything unusual in the last few days. By the time they turned up anything that would make them remotely suspicious, it would be much too late, of that he was certain.
But now the neighborhood had attracted their attention and that meant he couldn't afford to draw any more stock from the locals. He certainly couldn't have anyone whose job included a scheduled stop at his house disappearing. But at the same time the alien's imperative to breed as much as possible was hard to ignore. So Paul was going to have to get creative.
Finding women was easy enough. Each night he made the trek to another nearby town, one far enough away that he was unlikely to run into anyone he knew, and there he'd cruise the singles bars until he found someone willing and fertile. Often he'd spend his days in one town, head back home with company for the afternoon, and then be out on the prowl again that night. It wasn't long before he started to have fun with it. He felt young again, almost like being back in college, except of course in college he hadn't had the advantage of being able to read women's minds. Now the basement was filled with incubating females, and the number of his children waiting to enter the world numbered in the tens of thousands.
Males were another issue. There were only a handful of gay bars in driving distance and he wasn't sure he wanted to risk drawing from such a small community where he would be more likely to attract suspicion. Instead he got the idea to put out ads on Craigslists and swingers websites. He advertised having a "Houseful of women," which he supposed was technically true, and soon strangers were coming out of the woodwork hoping to get in on a burgeoning new scene. Paul advised them to be discreet and tell no one where they were going. He had them park as far away as possible so as not to make the neighbors suspicious (he head read in the paper that police thought the rash of abandoned cars and subsequent missing person's reports on the drivers were indicative of some sort of kidnapping ring preying on passing motorists). Sometimes the men brought their wives along. An added bonus.
Cygax soon had all of the genetic samples it could hope for, and each new generation of young was blessed with a stronger and stronger set of human genes. If only there wasn't so much of a mess to clean up each time. Paul wasn't normally in the business of hiding dead bodies, and after disposing of five or six corpses his options started to become limited. There was no more room in the compost heap and anymore digging up the backyard in the middle of the night might attract prying eyes.
It was nine o'clock at night on a Tuesday, four days before Kim was set to return home and four days before the world as everyone knew it was set to end, and just as Paul Greenstreet was debating the best available tool to dismember the remains of one of his guests for easier transport in the trunk of his car he was startled by a knock on the door. He cursed his own carelessness; he had gotten so wrapped up in what he was doing that had failed to sense the approaching creatures.
Paul left the body where it was, dressing quickly and checking to make sure there were no bloodstains on his clothes. The knocking came again, heavier and more insistent. It was pouring down rain, and through the distorted sheet of water on the window he spied only three vague shapes huddled in the narrow shelter of his front porch. He opened the door to find a group of wet, bedraggled teenage girls huddled together and shivering in the freezing rain, each clutching a backpack.
"Mr. Greenstreet?" said one, a slim, pale redhead standing in the center of the trio. "We're sorry to bother you. Is your wife home?"
It took a second for Paul to connect a name to the face. "Stacy! What are you doing here? It's late, do your parents know where you are?" Stacy was the daughter of one of Kim's coworkers. One day a year ago the two had bonded over their mutual loves of gardening and photography and Kim had taken the girl under her wing. Paul was used to finding her on the doorstep at unexpected times looking for his wife, but never at this time of night, and never with company.
To Stacy's right was a girl Paul had never seen before, a tall, svelte thing with long dark hair and a dark brown complexion. Despite her wet and muddled condition and the awkwardness of the situation, she appeared placid and unflappable, barely paying Paul any attention, as though nothing about what was going on was out of the ordinary to her at all.
The third girl, huddled against Stacy's left side, was so obscured by the shapeless mass of a hooded sweater that at first Paul couldn't make out her face. It wasn't until she looked up that Paul realized who it was; Tara, Stacy's identical twin sister. The two could be differentiated by Stacy's eyebrow ring and more provocative wardrobe, and by their respective postures, Stacy always erect and confident, Tara slouching and passive.
"Mr. Greenstreet," Stacy said again, "I really am sorry to bother you, but it's late and we didn't have anywhere else to go. Is your wife home? Can we come in? It's really raining out here."
Paul snapped out his contemplative trance. "Of course! My God, all three of you get in here, you must be soaked to the bone. Stay right here, I'll go get towels for all of you."
The twins stripped off their wet outer layers and hung their garments carefully. The third girl simply stood and let the streaming trails of water roll off of her. Paul let the girls dry off and then lead them to the living room, where he seated them all on one couch and adjourned to the kitchen both to make tea and to take stock of the situation.
The sudden arrival of three young, fertile females was a boon that Paul and Cygax couldn't even have imagined, but Paul cautioned that they should be careful. He had no idea why the girls were here but he had to make sure that nobody was following them or knew where they had gone before he let his other half off the leash. The impatient creature considered asserting its dominance over the host personality, but decided to bide its time. Maintaining the security of the lair was of utmost importance, and this, after all, was the reason the host personality existed in the first place.
Paul returned to the living room, pushing hot mugs into each of the girls' hands. Tara was shivering and staring at the carpet with a sour expression on her face. She sat apart from the other two, who were so close they were practically in each other's laps.
"There now," he said, smiling "That should help. What were you girls doing out in that weather anyway?"
"We're sorry Mr. Greenstreet. We-"
"Didn't have anywhere else to go, yes Stacy, I know. I'm afraid Kim is out of town on business, she won't be back until Saturday, but if you're all in some kind of trouble or need help you know you can come to me just as easily as her. Why don't you tell me what's going on? By the way, who is your friend?"
Stacy looked confused for a moment, then nearly jumped as she realized what he meant. Paul thought he caught the flicker of a smirk on Tara's face before she buried it in her mug.
"Oh, how rude of me! Mr. Greenstreet, this is my friend Evelyn."
"Evelyn? Pleasure to meet you, always nice to meet a friend of Stacy's." She shook his proffered hand without speaking, still giving him the same level, unchanging expression. Paul was starting to find it a little bit annoying. Even her aura was muted and difficult to read.
"Now, first things first, Stacy, Tara, does your mother know you're out at this time of night?"
The three were quiet for a second, and a glance went between all of them almost faster than Paul could detect. Their psychic auras were a roiling mass of conflicting emotions, but most prominent of all was anxiety.
It was Tara who broke the silence. "No," she said, staring into her tea. "She doesn't know."
"Evelyn was supposed to stay the night at our place tonight Mr. Greenstreet," Stacy volunteered. "But we, I mean I, got into a big fight with Mom, and, well, we sort of, um, left. Unexpectedly."
"I see." Paul gave each of them his best stern look. Stacy blanched, Tara didn't even look up, and Evelyn might as well have been waiting in line at the DMV. "So...no one knows you're here?"
Stacy gave him her best puppy dog look. "Please don't call my mother Mr. Greenstreet! I know it's asking a lot, but I just can't let her know that I'm here. It's-it's-well, it's very complicated."
"I'll bet it is. How did you even get here? You didn't drive?"
"No, we caught a ride most of the way, but the last six blocks we had to run. I really thought Kim would be here. I thought she could, well, you know, fix things. Help us. I don't know." Paul could see tears at the corners of Stacy's eyes. Evelyn reached over and squeezed her hand, but Tara said nothing, not even gracing her sister with a look.
"Well, she's not here, but you girls came to the right place. I'm glad you're not out wandering the streets or getting lost in this storm. I should call your mother because I'm sure she's worried sick but I'm sure if I do that that you'll all just leave, so if you want to you can stay here for tonight and in the morning we'll see if we can work all of this out. I won't even ask why you ran away. For tonight, no questions, no lectures, no judgments, I just want all three of you safe and sound."
Paul was startled when Stacy jumped up off the couch and threw her arms around him. Her thin, lithe body was still wet and cold, water streaming from her bright red hair. "Oh, thank you thank you thank you!"
He chuckled and did his best to look embarrassed. Patience, he counseled Cygax. Tara looked at him with a sad expression, but she too gave him what sounded like a sincere thank you. Only Evelyn was, as always stoic, responding to his words only with a barely perceptible nod.
"I'm afraid one of you will have to sleep out here on the couch."
"I' will," said Tara, and Paul thought he detected a tone of reproach when she said it.
"Then I'll fix up the guest bedroom for you two. There's, um, only one bed, so you'll have to share. I hope you don't mind."
Stacy was about to answer, but Tara cut her off. "They won't mind. They won't mind at all." Now her tone was unmistakable; dripping with bitterness and scorn. Stacy looked away, visibly shaken. Paul pretended not to notice.
"Great then. Wait right here and I'll take care of everything. By the way girls, you are all eighteen right?" The three looked startled, unsure of what to say. Even Evelyn broke her glacial poise. Paul let the awkward silence hang for another second or two before following up: "It's illegal to harbor runaway minors. I could get in serious trouble if you're too young."
Stacy began to laugh, relieved. Even Tara cracked a smile. "Yes, we are," she said.
"Whew. What a relief." Paul smiled. As he left the room he felt the tension, sharp and thick between all of them. He had more questions than he knew what to do with, but there was an easier way to get the answers than just asking.
Half an hour later Paul sat on the edge of his bed, eyes closed, concentrating. Analyzing the girls' minds had been difficult earlier, each of the three of them was in a state of anxiety and their thoughts were jumbled and overlapping. Now, having gotten all of them separately settled in, he let his mind expand and his consciousness drift, examining each of them one at a time.
Tara was lying on the living room couch and making a pretense of sleeping but was in fact debating whether she should call her mother. Paul intruded on her thoughts just enough to deter him that course of action. The rest of her mind was a jumble of feelings, most of them centered on her sister: anger, disgust, resentment, bitterness, fear, but also deep and abiding love and loyalty. She hadn't wanted to run away, she had followed the other two so that she could look after Stacy for their mother. She had initially believed that this tantrum would only last through the night, but now she was less certain.
Toward Evelyn Tara had only one feeling: anger.
Paul let his mind drift again, lighting off of Tara and toward her sister. Experimentally, he tried to synchronize his thoughts with hers, to experience her consciousness directly. He eased in a little bit at a time, picking up base sensations and background thoughts first before fully becoming her. Stacy was on her back on the guest bed just ten feet down the hall from where Paul was now. She was naked and through her mind he could feel the coolness of the sheets and the bottled up heat of the small room. And he could feel...
Stacy reached up and wrapped her fingers around the headboard, gripping it tight as she felt Evelyn's lips trail their way down her throat and across her collarbone. The feeling of the other girl's long hair sweeping over her naked skin thrilled her. She stretched out as much as he could, luxuriating, enjoying the intimate feeling of their bodies cradled against each other. Rain was softly pattering at the window and she timed her breathing to the rhythm of it. Heat was churning inside of her, and desire blossomed wet between her legs.
Stacy's firm breasts were crowned with perky rosebud nipples that stood out hard and swollen as Evelyn's lips kissed their way to them. Her soft, wet tongue darted out, tracing the outline of one nipple, teasing, dappling Stacy's skin with wetness. Tiny soft whimpers caught in her throat as the lips closed, sucking at her breast first softly, then harder, more intense, drawing the tip in and nibbling. The sharp edge of Evelyn's teeth grazed the sensitive flesh and Stacy had to bite her lip to keep from crying out.
She writhed and moaned as the other girl licked and sucked her breasts one at a time. In the dark she could see just the outline of Evelyn's naked body, long hair trailing down her bare back and, further below, the round inviting curve of her bottom. She gripped the headboard tighter and spread her legs wide, bucking her hips in encouragement. Her body was quivering with barely suppressed want, every touch, caress, and kiss sending a jolt up and down her spine. She felt like all the energy in her body was collecting, pooling and culminating in her hot, wet pussy, now literally dripping with desire.
In the dark, she gasped out one word: "Lower!"
There was a pause. Evelyn's voice, equally weighted with the strain of pent-up lust, answered: "Are you sure?"
Stacy nodded vigorously until she realized Evelyn couldn't see her. "Yes," she whispered. "I'm ready. Really. Just, please. Lower..."
Stacy cupped and massaged her own breasts as she felt Evelyn's mouth trail down the smooth, flat plain of her abdomen, stopping briefly to trace the curve of her hips before straying to the exposed flanks of her thighs. Evelyn's tongue lapped at her naked flesh, licking away the wetness she found there, searching after each and every stray drop. Those precious lips were now just inches away from her aching sex. She was shaking all over. The anticipation was too much. Another minute and she was sure she would burst.
When that sweet kiss finally found its mark a long, ragged moan clawed its way up from inside of her. She had been waiting, half in fear and half in want for this moment for so long. The licking tongue slid inside of her, spreading her open like a flower, and she felt herself begin to melt away at the edges, being submerged in a deep ocean of bliss. In that moment she felt loved, truly and completely, and in the dark she mouthed the word over and over again as she twisted and writhed, giving herself away but accepting in return as well, as two very briefly became one, and found that they really had been waiting for each other all this time, even before they knew it.
Afterwards they lay naked in each other's arms, talking, listening to the rain. Evelyn stroked Stacy's cheek with one finger.
"Baby, I'm sorry. This is all my fault. You told me your mom would react this way and I insisted we tell her anyway."
Stacy shook her head. "She would have had to find out sooner or later. It's better this way. Now she can't come between us. It's Tara I'm worried about."
"She's not coming with us."
"Not a chance. I wouldn't let her even if she wanted to. Tomorrow I'm going to send her back. She won't like it, but she'll listen to me. It'll be better with just the two of us."
"The two of us is all I want. Now. Forever." In the dark they kissed again.
"What about your parents?" Stacy said. "How will they react when they realize you're gone?"
"I doubt they'll even notice. Baby, where are we going to go?"
"I told you, I figured we'd head toward Washington and-"
"No, I mean tomorrow. We can't stay here if we send your sister home."
"That's right. I don't know. There are people who will put us up, at least for a night or two. If Kim is back on Saturday we can hold out until then."
"You really think she'll help us? With the money and everything?"
"I know she will. You've never met her, but she's really incredible. She's like the mother I always wished I had. She'll help. We just have to keep our heads above water until then. We're lucky Paul is letting us stay here tonight."
Evelyn shuddered and huddled closer to Stacy. "That guy gives me the creeps."
"Yeah. He's weird. I don't like him."
"Are you kidding? He's harmless!"
"I caught him staring at me."
"Well he's a guy!"
"Not like that. The way he looked at us was scary. I've seen guys look at me like they want to fuck me, but that wasn't this look. This was...I don't know what this was. But I don't feel safe here."
"Stop it. He's fine. I mean, I don't know him like I know Kim, but I know there's nothing to be afraid of. He wouldn't hurt a fly."
"If you say so. But I'll be glad when we leave."
They continued to talk, but Paul untethered his consciousness from Stacy’s and drifted back into himself. He knew everything he needed to know now. No one knew the girls were here, and if they didn’t return home their parents and the authorities would assume it was exactly what it was-a runaways case.
Paul dressed, then sent a mental command compelling Tara to wake up and go to the kitchen. He waited until he heard her footsteps on the linoleum, then slipped out of the bedroom as quietly as possible.
He found her peering bleary-eyed into the harsh fluorescent light of the refrigerator. He stood in the kitchen doorway, watching her until she noticed him out the corner of her eye and jumped back in surprise.
“Whoa, sorry!” he said, smiling. “Didn’t mean to scare you. You couldn't sleep either, huh?”
Tara nodded, unable to speak for a moment. Her heart was hammering in her chest. There was something about Mr. Greenstreet that seemed different than the other times she had met him. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but it made her nervous.
He peered into the fridge. The inside was bare, nothing but a carton of expired milk and some leftover casserole that was now teaming with fungus. He blinked. He had meant to go grocery shopping last week, but all of a sudden he realized that since the day Kim left he’d neither eaten a bite nor even felt hungry.
“Well,” he said, closing the door. “Guess we’re not going to find anything to help us in there. You know how it goes, the missus leaves town for a few says and I go right back to bachelor mode. How about some more tea at least? I hear chamomile helps you sleep.”
Tara was edging away, trying to back towards the door without looking like she was backing towards the door. “No, it’s alright. I don’t want to be a bother. I’ll just go back to bed.”
“But it’s no bother at all.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine.”
“Suit yourself. I’m glad you girls made it here tonight. It’s dangerous wandering around the streets like you did.”
“Yeah, I remember Mom talking about all the missing persons in the county lately. Lots of people just gone without a trace.”
“Thirty six. Twenty nine females, seven males.”
"It's good you're safe. You know, I don’t want to pry, but since it’s just the two of us and since I’m sticking my neck out for you girls, why don’t you explain to me what happened between your sister and your mom? I know it must have been her and not you who started all this.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I can just tell. She’s the type. You’re not. You get to recognize these things as you get older. Do you want to talk about it? You must be upset by all this.”
“I’m not. Just, there’s a lot to deal with lately.”
“It might make you feel better if you got it off your chest. I promise I won’t tell anyone.”
Tara sighed. She was going to object again, but as soon as she opened her mouth words started pouring out in a tumble. “You know, ever since Evelyn showed up I was afraid of this. I mean, I could see right away what was going on, and I was okay with it, really. But I didn’t tell Mom. I knew she couldn’t handle it. And I thought Stacy knew that too. And when she did what she did tonight, just coming right out like that, I couldn’t believe it. Didn’t she know what would happen? Didn’t she know how Mom would feel? How could she be that selfish?”
“Sometimes it’s better to let the world see everything. Strip it all away.”
“But this wasn’t the time! She was only thinking about herself. Next year we’ll both be away at college and she can, you know, live that way if she wants to. She would only have had to keep it secret a little longer.”
“Maybe keeping secrets wasn’t what she wanted. Maybe she felt like she had to bare it all.”
Tara smirked. She felt a chill but ignored it. “Yeah, well, Stacy has never had a problem with that. She’s always been open about everything, even when she shouldn’t be. It's going to get her into trouble.”
“You worry she’s exposed herself?”
“That’s one way of putting it.” Tara felt lighter the more she talked, like weight was slowly being subtracted from her. “I guess maybe that’s one good thing about all this. No secrets left. Nothing to spring on us.”
“So she’s completely uncovered?”
Tara cocked her head. “You know you have a really funny way of saying things. Why did-?” She stopped. Why was it so cold in here all of a sudden? She looked down and realized that she was stark naked! Her clothes were in a neat pile on the kitchen floor next to her. The entire time they had been talking she had been stripping away her garments without even realizing it. In fact, even now she was in the midst of stepping out of her panties.
She looked up at Paul, mute shock and confusion mingling on her face. He gripped her mind with his and commanded her to remain still and be silent. She stood perfectly frozen, jaw clenched with the scream that was welling inside of her but lacked an outlet. He kicked her clothes to one side and walked a circle around her, observing from all angles. Her skin was pale, creamy white, her body thin and angular, small-breasted with pink nipples standing at attention in the cold air.
He compared her dimensions with those of her sister. There were some superficial differences, but nothing the naked eye could detect. For practical purposes, there was no discernable differentiation between the body of either girl. Satisfied, he commanded her to follow him to the living room.
At his instruction she sat on the couch, leaning back against the armrest, legs splayed, one hand cupping her left breast and the other covering her pubic hair, one finger poised just above her tiny clit. He analyzed the pose for a moment, then he took a seat on the opposite couch so that he could observe.
At his mental command, Evelyn got out of bed and sleepwalked to the living room, leaving Stacy slumbering unawares. The living room was dark but the kitchen light was still on, and in the peripheral illumination Paul admired her perfect figure, her curvy hips and ample breasts dotted with dark brown nipples. Her face was blank and emotionless, her conscious mind still asleep as her body moved of its own accord to the couch, laying out next to Tara’s naked body.
At his command Evelyn kissed her way from Tara’s neck down the front of her body, pausing to lap her tongue around the other girl’s nipple before taking it in her sucking mouth. Tara, both fully conscious and completely unwilling but also helpless to resist, leaned her head back and moaned, parting her hips wider, squeezing her breast with one hand and massaging her clit with the other. Paul did his best to match Evelyn's behavior now with what he remembered from her tryst with Stacy less than an hour before. In turn, he directed Tara to mirror Stacy’s demeanor and body language. She stretched her arms above her head and gripped the back of the couch as her sister had done the headboard. She gasped, moaned, and trembled, panting out the word “Lower!” in the same heated tone.
Unaware and completely dominated, Evelyn dutifully obeyed and moved her mouth down between Tara’s thighs, kissing her way up to the center of them and then taking the other girl's sex into her mouth, soft pink tongue penetrating. Tara squirmed and writhed in a bizarre parody of lust, bucking her hips the very same way her sister had.
Paul waited until both girls were deep in the midst of the act, and then he released Evelyn from her mental torpor, returning the girl to the waking world and relinquishing command of her body. Tara he kept firmly under his dominion and she continued to mimic the evening’s earlier rendezvous according to his recollection.
Paul watched, fascinated, as Evelyn, now completely in control of herself, continued eagerly lapping up the other girl’s pussy. The wet sound of sucking lips against a moist cunt continued as her tongue slid up and down Tara’s wet, tight slit, and Evelyn moaned deep in her throat as she pressed her lips to the spot where swollen clit waited for her. She bathed it with her tongue, going slow, swirling around and around it with luxurious licks before drawing it against her lips and sucking hard. Tara moaned the other girl’s name, her body jerking wildly, fingers gripping the couch so tight she nearly tore the upholstery. Inside she was screaming, and her eyes begged for escape, but her body continued to obey a will not her own.
It was hard to tell how long this went on, but just as Paul was getting ready to intervene a change came over the scene. Evelyn ceased her insistent lapping and sat up, looking down at the other girl’s naked body with a puzzled expression. Tara continued to pant and moan, but an expression of aimless distress flitted over Evelyn’s face. Her aura changed, reflecting confusion, alarm, and for some reason disgust. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, brow furrowed, mind working furiously to decode what was out of place. Where was she? How had she gotten here? And who was-
“Tara? Holy shit! Tara, what are you-?” She turned and saw Paul sitting on the other couch, eyes unblinking. “What the fuck! You bastard, what are you-?!”
Paul reached out and seized her mind again, silencing her. She stopped screaming and settled back on the couch, staring without blinking, limbs limp like a doll. Paul sighed. He had worked so hard, but Evelyn had only gone along with what was happening when she hadn’t realized who she was really with. As soon as she became aware of what was going on, she rejected the entire scenario.
Cygax pushed the host personality aside and took full control. It was confused. The sibling females were nearly identical physically, and their few genetic differences weren’t something a human being could detect. For practical purposes, they should be interchangeable, and yet clearly they were considered distinct entities. The mated female had rejected the one in place of the other. Why? In what significant way did they differ? It understood the concept of individuality only in the academic sense, a quaint, abstract notion found among the natives of backwards planets, probably nothing more than a widespread delusion. Surely such foolishness couldn't take precedence over the all-important mating urge?
The alien had hoped that this close study of the twins’ nature and the other female's relationship to them would help it better understand how to utilize their unique genetics, but it had failed, for reasons beyond its comprehension. What curious beings these were. The creature shed its human guise and uncoiled its tendrils. Well, the experiment might have failed, but there was no reason not to put the girls to their more obvious use. Tara let out a tiny, shrieking gasp as thick, ridged tentacles slid into her pussy and ass and smaller appendages attached to her still-erect nipples, all immediately gushing fluids into the empty receptacle of her body.
Best to get right down to business. Otherwise this could take all night.
Stacy awoke to find she was alone.
It was still raining, and through the streamers of water running down the windowpane the night outside looked distorted and otherworldly. She ran her hand over the empty space next to her on the bed. The sheets were cold. The door had been left open a tiny crack.
She dressed and tiptoed out. The house was dark and quiet, but she couldn't shake the feeling that there was something going on all around her, like someone was following her and watching over her shoulder. She glanced backward, but there was nothing there.
Harsh light from the streetlamps outside washed the living room in shades of dingy yellow. The shadow of the rain on the window ran across the walls, making distorted, wriggling shapes, as though the house were alive. Other than these phantoms, she was alone. There were pillows and disheveled blankets on the couch, but no sign of Tara.
Stacy looked at the clock. It was past one in the morning. Where had Evelyn and Tara gone to? There was no light coming from the bathroom or the kitchen. She felt her bare feet sink into the carpet with each step, like the house was sucking her down and swallowing her up. When she felt a hand touch her shoulder she nearly screamed. She was surprised to find Evelyn standing right behind her, a coy smile on her lips.
"Jesus! You scared the shit out of me! Where were you? Have you seen Tara? It's late and it doesn't look like she's anywhere in the house."
"She's alright. I just saw her. She went out for some air." Evelyn's smile was placid and still, like a painting. Something sounded strange about her voice too, but Stacy couldn't quite put her finger on it.
"Out for some air? That's insane, it's dumping rain. Evelyn what's going on? Where did you go? And-" she stopped, looking Evelyn up and down. "Where the hell are your clothes? If Mr. Greenstreet wakes up and finds you like this-"
"He won't. You should relax. Everything's going to be okay now." She took Stacy's hand and pulled her toward the couch. Stacy followed along, confused, sitting when directed. Evelyn crouched on her knees next to her. Stacy was sure that her girlfriend hadn't blinked once the whole time they'd been talking. Was she high on something? Drunk? Had she fallen and gotten a concussion?
Stacy fidgeted. "Baby, what's going on? Go get dressed and help me find Tara. If she's out there she's probably trying to go home and she'll catch her death before she gets five blocks."
"She's not going home. She's...much better now. Happier. Than she was. You'll see. Everything's okay now. Everything."
"You keep saying that, but you're acting really weird, and something about this...hon, I think you were right about what you said before, that we weren't safe here. I don't know why, but I just have the worst feeling right now."
"I was being silly before. You're being silly now. Everything's okay. You're safe with me. You trust me, don't you?"
Stacy looked into Evelyn's brown eyes and read the affection there, the love. There was something off-kilter about it, something strange, but it was unmistakable even so. "Of course I do."
"Then just listen to me. We're safe. Tara's safe. We've go the whole place to ourselves right now. Shhh, no questions. You said when we decided to run away that you'd always trust me, that you'd do anything I asked you to. So just let me take care of you now. Let me make you feel good. You want to feel good, don't you?" Evelyn pushed her body against Stacy's, their mouths meeting. The kiss was warm and deep, but it felt off-center, like her lips had somehow been made for something else and were being misused now.
Stacy tried to quiet her fluttering heart as she let Evelyn lay her down on the couch and remove her clothes one by one. She still didn't understand what was going on, what had gotten into Evelyn or how they could possibly be alone in the house like she said. But Evelyn's voice was soft and soothing, and she felt herself falling into it. Somehow her body acted on its own, becoming pliant and cooperative at the other girl's touch.
Evelyn's smile turned mischievous as she took Stacy's shirt and twisted it into a blindfold, wrapping it around Stacy' eyes. "No peeking," she whispered. Robbed of her sight, the world became a sea of anonymous sensations; the softness of the blankets and pillows underneath her, the sharp chill of the air, and the burning hot touch of Evelyn's bare skin all floated around her, enveloping her, caressing her, submerging her in their depths.
She felt her legs spread apart, though she wasn't sure if she had opened them or if Evelyn had spread them for her. There as a tickling feeling that run up the inside of her thighs, a creeping touch that slid across her bare flesh. She gasped as she felt something enter her, something thick and warm, firm but pliant, gliding easily inside, joining with her body. Her lower lips fit tightly around the mysterious penetrating shape.
"What the fuck is that?" she said.
"Shhh. Just trust me."
"Seriously Ev, what is that? Is that a dildo, did you go snooping in Kim's naughty drawer or something?"
"No peeking!" Something smoothed her blindfold down. "It's nothing you need to worry about. Just relax. Have fun. It feels good, doesn't it?"
Stacy had to admit that it did. The hardness of it, the smoothness, the gentle force of the penetration. It didn't quite feel like a sex toy, but it didn't quite feel real either. Whatever it was, it seemed tailored to her, meant to fit into her, meant to fill her and gratify her. Somewhere there was a rational part of her brain that was telling her that what was happening shouldn't be happening, that it didn't make sense, that something was wrong and had been wrong ever since they'd stepped foot in this house, but the sweet drone of Evelyn's voice drowned that warning out, burying it deeper and deeper.
The invading member began to thrust, and her body ached with want as it spread her open, exposing her, filling her. At the same time she could feel Evelyn's caressing lips on her, reassured by that familiar kiss. In spite of herself she began to relax, to let the ebb and flow of events carry her away, her senses asserting authority over her mind.
She was surprised to find herself panting and moaning, but she didn't stop. She had become wet with desire, and her pussy lips quivered and contracted as the thrusting increased in speed, gliding in and out of her with the easy lubrication, the muscles inside of her tightening and clutching, her body twitching and writhing, manipulated by the deep throbbing pleasure that filled her.
Her lips curled into a smile as she felt Evelyn's hands cup her breasts, squeezing them, massaging them, kneading the warm loose flesh. In the private, comfortable, enclosed darkness behind the blindfold, she could imagine that nothing existed in the entire universe except for that touch and the increasingly powerful thrusting in and out of her cunt.
A thought breached the confines of her private bliss: If Evelyn's hands were there, then how was she working whatever it was that was between her legs? She became aware of a sound she had been hearing for some time without acknowledging, a wet squishing noise like someone jumping up and down in the mud. It came from nearby. Each time she felt movement inside of her she heard it, and as the thrusting increased in speed and pressure it grew louder and louder. She felt something touching her all over, something that reminded her of the slimy feel of seaweed brushing against her leg when she swam in the ocean as a child. And there was a feeling inside, something that felt strange and exposed, as though she had opened herself too completely and now wouldn't be able to close...
Stacy was on her feet and running before she even realized it. She pushed past Evelyn, vaulted over the back of the couch, and streaked across the living room in a blur. Whatever it was that had been inside of her slid out, trailing wetness on her bare thighs. She ripped the blindfold away with one hand and out the corner of her eye she saw Evelyn staring blankly, still smiling like a doll, and she saw something else too, something only barely perceived, something she didn't even want to think about.
Instead she ran. She was out of the room in two seconds flat and she sprinted into the hall, grabbing the knob of the first door she came to and yanking it open. She took the stairs two at a time, wincing a little as her bare feet slid across the rough grain of the wood. She felt the cold concrete floor underfoot, and the solid sensation helped her get her bearings. Where was she? The basement? Why had she come here? It was pitch black and she fumbled around for a light, hoping that there was another exit nearby, hoping that she could escape from this house and from whatever it was that had just happened upstairs.
In the darkness she bumped into something, her feet and shins brushing against it, nearly tripping. It was soft and wet to the touch, leaving a sheen on her skin. She felt cold all over as the shape made a noise, like a tiny sigh. She became aware of sounds all around her, deep breathing and low grunting, occasional whispers and muted exclamations. It was hot down here, and damp, the feeling of too many warm bodies sharing the same space for too long.
A flash of lighting in the windows brought an instant of bright blue clarity. Only an instant, but enough to see the thing at her feet. Stacy put her hands to her mouth to stifle her scream. Tears welled up in the corners of her eyes.
"Tara!" she sobbed.
Meanwhile, back upstairs, Cygax's affection for the human race was beginning to wane. It had been certain that approaching this female through her mate would make her passive enough for the fertilization to be performed without a struggle. It had gone to great lengths to imitate the mating rituals it had observed between the two already, to make their interaction as familiar and natural as possible. And what was its reward? More resistance. The inhabitants of this planet were trying its patience. Shifting back to human form, it commanded Evelyn to follow it to the basement.
Stacy tried to fight off panic. She had to find some way to get out. She would get help, call the police, come back and save Tara and Evelyn, but first she needed to escape. Wasn't there another door down here, somewhere? Maybe the windows would open. There were dozens of shapes in the dark between her and opposite wall, and she tried not to think about what they might be.
Behind her, the stairs creaked under the weight of descending footsteps. A light came on in the hallway above, spilling yellow illumination on her. Squinting, she saw Evelyn coming down, her movements halting and jerky. Evelyn gave no acknowledgement of Stacy, moving past her in a daze, sitting on the bare concrete floor as if waiting for something.
"Stacy," came Mr. Greenstreet's voice, his form silhouetted against the light as he came to the basement steps, "What are you doing down here? You shouldn't go sneaking around the house after everyone else has gone to bed. You could hurt yourself." His voice was filled with what sounded like concern, but his face was as blank and passive as Evelyn's, his eyes cold and unfeeling. Stacy flinched under that hard gaze, starting to shake all over, naked and alone and defenseless with nowhere to run.
"Please," she said, but her mouth was suddenly dry and it only came out as a whisper. She swallowed and tried again. "Please, Paul, I don't know what's going on, I don't know what's happening, I don't know what any of this is, but please don't hurt me." Tears flowed freely from her eyes now, dampening her cheeks.
"It won't hurt. I promise."
He was almost to the bottom of the stairs. She tried to back away but if she took one more step she would trip over Tara's still form on the floor.
"Paul, I'm scared. I'm scared. Please don't do whatever it is that you're going to do."
"It won't hurt. You'll enjoy it. It'll be the best thing that ever happened to you if you just let it."
"You don't have to do this. I'll just go. I'll go and I won't tell anyone. Nobody has to know. Just let me go, please please please let me go!"
He was less than two feet away from her. His face showed no emotion, no thought, nothing human at all. She wondered now how she could ever have trusted him after looking into those cold, hungry, empty eyes.
"It'll be quick," he said.
Her legs gave way beneath her, but something propped her up, an unseen force that grabbed her and held her fast. She opened her mouth, trying to make words come, but her body did not want to obey. She managed only a few words in a hoarse croak:
"I want to go home, please, home-"
"No" Paul said. "This is where you belong now."
There was just enough time to scream before he was on her.
Hours later, everything was quiet.
There had been both screams and moans, but not now.
There had been begging and pleading to stop and begging and pleading to continue, but they were both past.
The only sound was deep, steady breathing, the occasional whisper of voices lost in a dream, and the inaudible hum of biology at work, of life forging on, of the future of the human race creeping closer and closer.
There were three new shapes laid out on the basement floor, resting on their backs, swollen breasts and bloated bellies visible in silhouette. Occasionally one of them twitched or shuddered in its sleep, but other than that they were still.
Cygax examined the specimens on the other side of the room, the ones that had been there the longest, and discovered that their swollen abdomens were now literally pulsing and throbbing. This meant that the young inside were now fully grown and had detached from the uterine walls, much earlier than expected. Hungry, they would begin to feed on the nutrient solution filling the body cavity, and if left to their own devices they would eventually devour the incubator from the inside, hollowing it out, leaving only an empty shell. If the final birth wasn't initiated by the time they finished, they would then starve.
A throbbing impatience took root in the alien creature. Four more days. Four days until it was time to give birth to a new human race. Four days until its destiny was fulfilled. It could wait that long. Just that long.
In the meantime, it knew, there was still work to be done. The urge to mate was still there. It must find more. More and more and more. As many as it could. By the end, it would have them all.
To be concluded!
Read 24441 times | Rated 90.8 (76 votes)
Vote list (Close) :
BlackRonin : POSITIVE
Please rate this text: