Copyright© 2006 by XXXecil
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1 - For decades, the ultra-secret agency based in 'Area-69' has shielded the human race from the salacious depradations of an overwhelming legion of lusty, busty, voluptuaries hot to smother the human race between womanly thighs. But not all those within these cold halls can resist the gorgeous temptations sealed within that give a new meaning to the word 'Nymphomaniac'. But there is a shocking, bra-busting price to be paid for those that cannot resist.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Mind Control Magic Lesbian Heterosexual Science Fiction Vampires Light Bond Orgy Interracial Lactation Transformation
"Good, good. You're awake. The memory loss should be temporary." Assured an aurburn-haired beauty with vivid green eyes that stood over Dick's bedside. She wore a rather comical looking black beret made of slick vinyl; which seemed to match the black, studded dog-collar around her throat. As Dick came around, the throbbing of pulse-pounding drums and saxophone music made for an indecently seductive atmosphere.
It sounded a bit like the prelude to a sex-scene in a cheap, porno video. Which was by design, of course.
"I... I don't know..." Began Dick, rubbing his aching skull; not even daring to wonder about the dull throb in his crotch.
"Yes, but in time your memory should come back; we had a minor breach with a Mnemovore; they have mind-altering powers and can consume memories." The collared woman, who seemed to be nearing her mid-thirties, explained. What the F@$#!?...
"As for the rest of it, it would be better if I showed you, rather than try to explain it all now. It will help your memory if you can see what I mean for yourself." Dick found himself dressed in one of those flimsy, gauzy, hospital gowns, with briefs underneath to cover his manhood. He stood on tall, unsteady feet. He was over six-feet, with just enough height and stature to mollify the overall nerdiness of his thick glasses and lanky appearance.
His hostess, on the other hand was a statuesque amazon clad in a leather-fetish riot of dominatrix gear. Belts and straps adorned her lean legs and torso, with black cups capping her breasts complete with steely nipple-spikes. She opened a smooth, metal door as Dick stepped away from the simple, fold-out single-person bed he had slept on. He tried not to dwell on the mysterious stains on the sheets.
The open door blasted his senses with a rush of multi-colored lights, cigar-smoke, and the increased volume of the seduction sound-track as a vast panorama of sex-toys, and stripper-poles spread out before him. With morbid fascination, he entered the aisles of what seemed like a sex-fetish super-store. Whips, chains, blow-up dolls, and a veritable forest of dildoes. Near the walls further back were lighted stages, complete with poles in the center, where the men seated on plush chairs could watch as many as three strip-teases at once, from stages positioned at various corners of the vast chamber. In the corner behind Dick stood what appeared to be a bar and cash-register.
"Okay..." Dick began. "Mmm... not ringing any bells so far... Do I... eh... work here miss... ?" He almost feared the answer.
"That's Mistress Talia, and that's a good guess, we do work here, and yet we don't; you'll see what I mean in a moment. It shouldn't be long before it all returns to you."
For several moments, Dick seemed about to say something, then stopped and studied the lurid environment before him. He passed the Dildo aisle and nearly gaped at the largest array of pornographic magazines he had ever imagined. There were at least a dozen titles he'd never seen in all his salacious college days. He almost wondered if this... establishment was producing some of them in-house, with an operation this large it seemed not unlikely.
A brazen, mascara-painted stripper strutted onto the stage to his left. She wore a red, sequined bikini, and was barely wrapped in a gauzy shawl meant to tease the audience with her curvaceous form and jutting breasts. Her gorgeous face seemed to be a mixture of Hispanic and Eastern European features as pleasing as it was exotic. His attention was torn between her, and another red-headed sex-worker further back, already pantomiming the removal of her panties before an eager audience. Everywhere Dick looked there was bold, audacious tittilation to shock the sensibilities of even the most libertine of folk.
As he followed Talia between aisles of body-paint in a variety of flavors, he noticed on an upper floor what looked like a row of... hotel rooms? Men cackling with glee held luscious strippers on either arm as they entered the plain, small chambers; much like the enclosure Dick had awoken in. The employees included men dressed in leather suspenders with black hoods, and exposed chests, and other females dressed as Talia was; reminding him of dominatrix prostitutes from a Mad-Max rip-off.
"What you see before you is important, but our true jobs are far more... complicated than what you see here." Talia noted, as her ripe ass switched temptingly in a vinyl bikini-bottom meant to exaggerate the bulge of her butt. She led him behind the north stage, where the red-headed stripper with jiggling mountains of breastflesh larger than her own head was humping the well-greased pole in the center of the stage.
Behind the curtain was a plain, locked door. Behind that was an entire hallway of plain, locked doors. Talia chose the third on the left side, and after passing through another nondescript, metal door, the pair came to an elevator. Dick was shocked; yet there was a certain... rightness about the situation that set his nerves at ease. Perhaps Talia was telling the truth; he really did work here, and his subconscious mind was remembering impressions. Upon entering the elevator, Talia did not press any of the four buttons, but rather grasped Dick's hand, and her own, and pressed them against a blank, metal panel off to the left side.
"Just wait patiently." Presently, there was a pleasant beep, and a computerized voice replied:
"WELCOME; AGENT TALIA; WELCOME AGENT BIGSWALLOW."
"Ooo, I bet we're not C.I.A., are we?" Dick asked impishly, the flourescent lighting of the elevator gleaming off his slick-backed, raven-colored hair.
"Not quite," Mistress Talia answered, as the elevator began a descent... then a faster descent... Dick grabbed the support railing as his stomach was unsettled by the rapid motion. He could sense them being conveyed at great speeds; similar to what you'd expect in an elevator for a skyscraper of nealy 50 floors; or for some clandestine, black-budget, government agency buried beneath the Nevada desert.
"The sex-store above us is jokingly named, 'AREA 69' but it is just a necessary facade for our true purpose. Which shall be clear in but a moment." Dick felt far less frightful anticipation one might expect after a series of revelations like this; did he really did belong here? The stomach-churning, controlled plummet through the elevator shaft ended after what felt like somewhere between 40 to 60 stories down before the doors swept open. The pair entered a plain, white, featureless room adorned only with suspicious looking security cameras, and a red, diffused light swept over them.
"More security scans?" Dick suggested helpfully, trying rapidly to adapt to this odd role. Talia nodded. Finally, the second security doors opened into a glass and steel, rectangular control center with an odd mix of sophisticated, lab-coat clad researchers, and attractive women dressed like Streetwalkers.
"Welcome back to the real Area 69."
The many workers turned, regarded Dick and Talia, and began clapping.
"For me?" the lanky, semi-nerdy, 'agent' asked, chagrined.
"Welcome back; we were rather worried." explained Talia. But before further introduction could get underway, red-alert alarms blared with irritating shrillness as emergency sirens in the walls flashed brightly.
"Positive I.D." shouted a balding man in a lab coat who eagerly turned back to his monitors. "It's a Class 2 Supernatural Devourer; same one as last week.
"Now that we've let her enter and leave the place without being accosted, her guard is down. She's come back to feed this time." Remarked a Hispanic woman with an exceptionally wide ass dressed in skin-tight, fish-net stockings over her entire body. Larger monitors lit up above Dick and displayed an intimate scene from one of the private hotel rooms in the sex-center above them.
Immediately, the naked back of a young woman was visible on the screen. The toned muscles of her shoulder blades and lower back where undulating as she writhed on top of a willing man. She had a pleasant nest of coppery-brown hair styled in playful bangs that bobbed as she ground herself downward. Her taut ass and womanly hips wallowed rhythmically into the crotch of her mark, with unmistakable slurping sounds.
The camera angle switched to the front; her face had a coldly elegant perfection to rival that of a supermodel, and her breasts; before Dick's very eyes, the ripe mounds seemed to be... swelling?
"Oh yeah, she's going all out." noted a blond man clad in a leather body-sheath with holes for his arms, and what seemed to be a dog-collar around his throat. "She figures that there's no way for him to escape her, so she thinks she can let down her disguise and feast."
"Remember not to personalize the subjects; that creature isn't a human, isn't a woman; it's just a Class 2 Supernatural." Reminded a middle-aged woman dressed like a cocktail waitress as she attended her own monitor screens.
The de-personalized creature in question let out a throaty squeal as her restraints on her true form slackened. Her nipples were exceptionally pert; mounted high upon her firm, youthful breasts that jiggled like flesh-capped apples. But with each thrust, each grind upon the hardened cock of her intended prey; an unwholesome energy seemed to flow into her mammaries.
With a slow, subtle throb, those apple-sized teats had widened before the onlookers at least two inches in under five seconds, shadowing the center of her chest in the beginnings of cleavage while the outer edge of each boob inched closer to her arms.
Dick checked a monitor that displayed a sideways angle. The supernatural slut had arched her back, eyes squeezed shut in ecstasy while ripe, delicately-tanned boobflesh jutted outwards with smooth, steady growth. For the first three seconds, it was difficult to see more than her erect nipples from this side angle, concealed as they were by her smooth arms that gripped the wrists of her male prey. But mere moments later; high, tight nipples thrust into view, carried by an inexorable tide of growing, multiplying tit. In less time than it took to say it, the jiggling juggs had enlarged forwards and outwards until they extended forward a distance twice as long as the apple-sizes they had started at... no... too big now; they were becoming more like overripe grapefruit with each pounding of her naked, cum-slicked pelvis.
The voluptuosness of the creature's feminine form was increasing at a deceptively calm, yet intense rate. When watching, it was as if your eyes were lying to you; greater extremes of grapefruit-sized titflesh unfolded before the viewer with perfect smoothness, belying the grunting fervor of the demon-slut's lustful rutting. No... they had become three inches larger than any grapefruit... more like four inches.
"Her... er... its prey is in mortal danger now," Talia announced, reminding herself that the lusty beast was not, and had never been human. This is a Class 2; an energy-feeder. During the sex-act, it drains the cells of its partner of all available chemical potential; leaving behind a lifeless husk; unless we stop it."
The sexual monstrosity unleashed an unearthly roar of predatory lust, her eyes glowing an infernal red; as a long, too long, sensuous tongue slithered from her mouth. Her coppery hair, bobbing in pleasant bangs was becoming plastered to her scalp from the pussy-impaling exertion of this furious mating. By now, her boobs were nearly as large as basketballs; her fecund orbs growing outwards, yet hanging lower towards the face of her deliriously happy prey.
"Y-your Tits! Holy Shi-mmph!" A taut nipple pushed past his lips, stifling his exclamations. She had lucked up this time; this was a rugged, calloused man with a heavy, five-o-clock shadow; the sort of man that this preternatural paramour favored above others. This was the best part of the feeding; when she'd sapped enough energy to overpower her larger, male mark. She was totally dominant now, totally in control. Even had he wanted to, at this point the man could not have forced her off, could not have resisted her. This one didn't even realize the danger; it was just the best Lay of his Life. The triumph, the ecstasy thrilled her like nothing else ever had in her centuries of existence like this magical moment; as she spread her naked body over his hairy form, reveling in her power, her lust, the validation of her attractiveness, the raw ecstasy of the feeding itself; as the hapless human's life-force pumped into her pussy, the spraying of white mists from the sprinklers overhead, the way her water-melon sized breasts jiggled when... hey!
Sure enough, a white misty foam blasted her from the sprinkler system, unleashing a toxin that left her disoriented and unsteady, and which put the man into a deep, deep sleep. As she struggled to regain her equilibrium, a red mist followed from the system. This triggered a potent jolt of stimulation to every nerve in her body: sexual stimulation. The intense ecstasy triggered an immediate, irrepressible cycle of orgasms in the sexual predator. She slid off her mark, collapsing to the floor as her joints and muscles turned to jello. Her body was pummeled by rocking orgasms; so strong she could not even stand; so numerous that her mind and thoughts were being buried in raw, animal passion.
A secret door in the back wall slid open. Six women dressed in red lingerie and plastic gas-masks entered the room carrying chains, handcuffs, and what seemed to be strait-jackets. They grasped the thrashing, supernatural whore by her legs, careful to avoid the oozing gush of feminine lubrication that poured from her spasming vagina. The demon-slut fought and kicked, but the orgasms from the erototoxin proved too strong for her to regain use of her full powers. As her pulsing cunt thrust into the air, a flood of girl-cum wetted her toned, inner thighs. But her crotch was covered by the thick cloth and straps of the strait-jacket-like binding, before she could unleash a spurt of cum onto her captors. Plastic suction cups where placed over the nipples of her ponderous breasts. Finally, one of the six, lingerie-clad agents strapped to the demon's belly a medallion with a whorled, swirling symbol of unknown origin.
"And that is..." Dick asked.
"Oh, that's an Evangelon; it's a mystical extrapolation we've invented to improve upon traditional holy symbols. People have been using the crucfix for centuries to ward off vampires and the like; but the Evangelon uses elements from multiple religions, and is proof against any supernatural evil."
"Sooo... you need a crucifix to fend off a European demon, but a Yin-Yang to protect yourself from a Chinese Demon?"
"Well, almost... but the Evangelon serves in any case." Talia said.
The lingerie-squad dragged the now helpless she-demon into the secret passageway, and the camera-feed was cut off.
"So our job is to capture succubi that are hiding amongst the general population; and... SlutWorld above us is... what? Bait?" Dick surmised.
"You're getting it," Interjected the Hispanic woman clad from head to toe in fishnet stockings. "Give it time; your memory should recover fully. I'm Inez; since you've probably forgotten."
"I... uh... I guess you know that I'm Dick; nice to meet you... Inez... again... I think." Both women chuckled before Talia continued.
"What common myth understands as the Succubi is just one of a multitude of parasitic, sexual species that feed upon mankind's lusts. Sex is our greatest weakness; when we let down our guard, both rich and poor, genius and dullurd, the powerful and the helpless are vulnerable. And we're at war, essentially, and have been for centuries. Entire civilizations have been consumed and destroyed by their own lusts in the past; aided by these creatures." Talia adjusted her spiked breast-cups as she led Dick down a bright, metallic hallway.
"Collectively, we call them Nymphoids; after the old Greek word for a young, fertile woman. But they aren't human; there are dozens of Strains that copy the form and behavior of sex-starved, young women of spectacular beauty the way certain insects use mimickry to gain an advantage. It's a full-time job keeping them bottled up and under wraps. And there are most likely thousands more in this country alone we've never come close to capturing; but our tactics so far have helped immensely."
"Do those tactics include dominatrix gear and lingerie?" Dick asked, pulling down his hospital smock to help fend off the cool, air-conditioned breeze of the facility.
"Sure," Inez added. "If we looked like your regular Mulder/Scully federal agent team; with dark glasses, dark suits, flashing badges everywhere, then anyone with someone to hide would be long gone. By creating 'Area-69; Sex-Superstore', no one guesses our true purpose, and Nymphoids by the hundreds have been enticed to come right into our clutches over the years. Since all of us pass through the Store above, and work there to keep up appearances, it's often convenient to wear the same outfits down here." Dick was finding it extremely difficult to remain professional; struggling not to steal glances at Inez's pleasantly plump C-cups suspended in stocking.
"How utilitarian. But... where did they all come from? You say there are dozens of species? Where have they been all this time?"
"They've been all around us, for all of history. You're looking for some simple, pat answer for their origins; There isn't one. We've documented dozens of strains with magical, technological, and alien origins. But there are any number of Myths and Legends that obscure the truth; that's largely their own doing. Many Nymphoids have perpetuated deceits and false histories over the centuries so that mankind would never fully appreciate the nature of the struggle. And now, in this modern, skeptical age, many of them have been able to feed freely and with impunity. Even if the truth were known, almost no one would believe it."
"But... but... someone should at least TRY to spread the word; if there are so many - "
"We can't;" Talia cut him off. "At least not yet. Our own government, and that of the Old Soviet Union are responsible for many of them."
"Lemme guess; Cold-War 'Honey-Trap' sexpionage?" Dick surmised.
"Exactly; while there's no one source for the Nymphoids, while they come from many different locations, and have very different natures, Cold-War genetic experimentation has created many new varieties in recent decades. The Soviets started out by capturing a Class 3 Supernatural; known as a Rusalka in Old Russian Folklore, turning her... er... it into a Communist Agent and sending it to seduce politicians in Washington." Talia said.
"And our side couldn't be left behind," Inez continued; "We found ancient Nymphoid predators that had fed upon Native Americans centuries ago, and we've used them for the same purpose in retaliation."
As Mistress Talia spoke next, she arrived at a sealed, secured, automatic set of double-doors and began typing in a security key-code. "But these beings are untrustworthy, volatile, and always dangerous. Experiment after Experiment went out of control; their lusts were too extreme; their need to feed upon men's sexual energies overwhelmed any other incentive or threat. Now, it's all we can do to seal them away; contain them, try to study their powers for the good of mankind, or at least to keep them bottled up." The secured door slid open into what seemed to be an airlock. The room was smooth, white, and sterile-looking. A panel in the side wall slid open and produced a rack of bluish, translucent, gelatinous material in syringes.
"Libidinex; like a Cold Shower in a test-tube." Inez joked. "For personel of all genders, it's a requirement before contact with a Nymphoid." The reality of the situation and the awesome implications of this facility hadn't quite sunken in until Dick injected the cool, tingly fluid into his arm. In moments, his crotch felt... crowded... like some great weight was blocking his normal, sexual response.
Observation Bay 3 was a circular laboratory with a vast array of screens, knobs, dials and various switches in workstations set up at desk-level. Above them were the ubiquitous monitors that kept the Agents appraised of every salacious incident involving their indecent prisoners. But at the center of the room, there Dick's attention was riveted. A thick tube of reinforced plexiglass that extended from floor to ceiling contained a nude beauty that should have triggered an instant stiffy; if not for the Libidinex innoculation.
"Deed you inject yourself, mi amore? You need de drug eef you want ta reseest Yvette Leroux!" Her perfect, athletic body was a rich, mocha-brown complexion, and her loose cascade of auburn-bronze hair was similar in color. Vivid green eyes stared hungrily from an alluring face of high cheekbones and plump lips. The sweeping, soft curves of her exotic features reminded Dick of a butterfly in flight. The nubile lushness of her healthy, youthful form had the grace of a runway model, but the firmness of a fitness model. Yet the experienced eye would detect an odd imbalance between her toned body, and the outrageous splendour of her breasts. Wide and dark aureolas capped jostling juggs that were easily large enough for the she-devil's own head. Ordinarily, a woman of such athelticism could not maintain breasts so large, so plump and tender, but if everything they'd been saying was correct, this was not a woman at all; but some unwholesome creature trying to capitalize on men's love of boobs. Those breasts pressed luridly into the glass; as the sex-fiend postured her assets for the latest male brought before her.
"... an unprecedented Strain; preliminary analysis indicates it to be a Class 1 Paranatural Infector." droned a man in a labcoat turned away from the cylindrical container in the center of the lab. In fact, all the men here, all in labcoats seemed to be pointedly refusing to look upon the naked vision of femininity strutting and posturing behind them. Many of the men were speaking into recording devices:
"The subject's nervous system emits an invisible radiation field that increases in magnitude upon contact with subjects in a heightened state of arousal;" began one scientist.
"In essence; Subject L-21 literally feeds upon the energy of lust in a manner consistent with prior observations of Class 1 Nymphoids." continued another. Talia leaned over and began to whisper to Dick:
"This is a Class 1, an emotion-feeder. Like they said; it consumes energy from male sexual arousal. But it's not supernatural; its just of an alien biology unfamaliar to us."
"And de mens begged for it! Yvette made dem happier dan dere wives ever could!" Those green, vivid eyes bored into Dick's own icy blues. "You too will be beggin' Yvette soon eenough! De brainy men in de lab coats tink dey kin reseest! Tonight, you each be comin' back ta get some o' dis pussy!" The cajun creature was supremely confident in its powers of seduction; and Dick had little doubt that its feeding was notoriously easy.
"Upon completion of the feeding process; the male victim experiences profound paranoia, possessiveness, enhanced libido, and increased aggression from the alterations in brain chemistry following exposure to Subject L-21's feeding aura. Final outcome of exposure unknown at this point." said another scientist into his recorder. Yvette laughed;
"De outcome will be your leeps suckin' dees teets o' mine! And den your hard cocks be comin' back for dis pussy!" The Predator caressed her inner thighs, with a throaty moan, at the same time trying her best to jiggle her enormous boobs while in the tight confines of the reinforced cylinder.
"This one is a recent acquisition from Louisiana," Inez explained. "The paranoia and pathological lust caused in her victims after her feeding cycle is responsible for many reports of violence from the area. After the Hurricane, this creature and others of its Strain have emerged from hiding and had begun to feed with impunity after the breakdown of Law and Order. One of our advance reconnaissance teams captured this one before it could spread its madness out of the State."
"HAH! Yvette likes it when de men go crazee over her, it be fun to watch dem fightin' over me pussy! But why fight? De mens can take turns wit' me! You! De new boy! Yes you! Do not lie and preetend you don't wanna suck Yvette's ginormous teets! You want your meaty cock eenside de pussy! Your rough hands will be movin' up and down Yvette's nekkid body! You be lyin' eef you say you don't wanta blow your juice eenside Yvette's pussy! All ye needs ta do is touch em'! Touch Yvette's great-big titties! Lick dis pussy dat be wet wit' girly juice! Wet for you an yer meaty cock!"
Her body swayed with tantalizing grace, wide breeding hips bumping against the walls of her glassy prison as she began a slow, sinuous mating dance. Indeed, her glistening thighs were quite moist with her own feminine arousal; arousal directed at Dick? She bent forward, pressing her tempting teats against the glass. Though imprisoned, the creature that called itself Yvette spoke with a bold, mocking condescension as it challenged its audience.
"De young man be wantin' only de sex! But de girls you go after ees confused, wantin' proposals and commeetments. But Yvette ees a total slut! You can stick it een any hole you want! Stick your hard rod into Yvette's ass! You not get an argument! Lick de pussy clean eef you like! Stick your cock between dees great big, warm boobs just waitin' for your touch! You got a total slut een front o' you! Cum! Cum for Yvette! Cum een de pussy! Cum een de ass! Cum een de mouth! Stick your rod wherever you likes!" Those green eyes riveted him with the manic intensity of an inhuman sexual craving beyond all reason or propriety.
"W-well, that's a very generous offer, miss... but... Ive gotta get -"
"You come back. You be comin' back ta stick your meat into Yvette's pussy. And when you shoot your load into de cunt; Yvette will laugh. Laughin' at de mens tryin' ta pretend dey ain't ruled by da penis! Your beefy cock will be welcome when ya shoot off yer cream inside Yvette! Look at de breasts! Look at de pussy! And tell Yvette ye don't want some?" But strangely enough, it was those green, green eyes that concerned Dick the most. Somehow, those brilliant, emerald orbs were more mesmerizing even than the perverse spectacle of the nymphoid slut masturbating her own much-lauded pussy with a few curled fingers. Brazenly, sluttily she stared at him; a grunt of lust on her curled, plump lips, Boobs larger than gallon-jugs twitching with each obscene slurp her hand made as she fondled her own arousal-drenched netherlips. But those eyes... those emerald eyes...
It was a warm, moist day in the Bayou. And Dick wore only a pair of cut-off blue-jean shorts as he strode down to the water's edge to... to... what was he doing here? What was going on? Something didn't feel right... it was her; he was looking for her. Yvette slid out of the swampy waters; her soft, rich, wood-brown skin slick with dripping moisture. She let out a low, throaty growl as she raised herself to the bank. Raising her toned arms, she strutted and paraded the supple curves of her naked splendour before him. He was rushing towards her then... mmm... she knew his secret; Dick liked the really big tits. He craved women with vast armfuls of boob too large to get his hands around. With each step closer, Yvette's bulging bazookas seemed larger yet; as if they were swelling with ripe fecundity in response to his furtive yearnings.
The pair collapsed into a warm, slick patch of slippery mud. Hungrily, the green-eyed monster caressed him. In his younger days, Dick had indeed been a classic nerd. But into his twenties, he'd developed a taller stature that bordered on intimidating; and he had started to get just enough muscle to be taken seriously, in addition to his unusual height. But that mattered little, sprawled in the mud as he was; Yvette's whoppers sandwiching his face in a valley of achingly soft cleavage as dark as her lusty heart.
But he was lost when those hot, lower lips slithered around the rigid length of his man-meat; he felt a tingling jolt that seared his every nerve ending as the inevitable mating began with manic, muddy fervor. Their two bodies entwined, coupling, he was held firm not only by her surprisingly strong arms, but by bonds of mutual lust that could never be released until that perfect climax, until he fulfilled his destiny by jetting his hot seed into her eager womanhood, until the white gas began to spray from the ceiling, as her soft, bulging breasts were...
... pressing against the reinforced glass of her container as the paralytic gas from up above sprayed her; the contact between them broken.
"Level 4 Telepathic Intrusion! She... eh... the... the Subject was imposing an erotic scenario upon her... its intended prey to assist in the feeding cycle with no physical contact!" One of the lab-coats replied to a microphone at his workstation recording the incident.
"That level of power is unprecedented in a Class 1; prepare another round of probes!" another scientist added.
"De only probing Yvette needs ees a hard cock blastin' off in de pussy!" The Nymphoid insisted bitterly. Talia grasped Dick by the arms and hauled him out of the lab, while he tried with panting gasps to catch his breath. It had taken longer, but the erotic attack by the creature that called itself Yvette had indeed raised him to erection; the drug was only of modest help.
The wanton, slutty bitch named Yvette continued to stimulate her own sex with curled fingers, yet there was something that disturbed Talia, a vicious, low cunning was reflected in those green, green eyes; and in their brief contact, Talia feared that the Class 1 had yet more plans for young agent Bigswallow.
"Wow... gasp that was... awesome... Louisiana is doomed..."
Eventually, the other agent/scientists seemed to agree that, if Dick could keep his guard up around the Nymphoids, he should be permitted to tour the complex, while under close scrutiny by Security of course; hoping that an odd sight or sound would jar his memory. And with agents around every corner, breaches and accidents could be quickly contained. The black vinyl chaps he now wore, complete with beret, and cowboy boots made him seem look like... well, either the male lead in a dime-store romance novel, or some sort of gay porn actor. Of course, he wasn't alone in that. At least half of the workers here were dressed in similarly scandalous outfits; and his reluctance faded quickly; perhaps a part of his mind did remember working here. Talia said he looked good in his 'uniform', and it would be expedient, since his shift in the sex-market above would begin in just a few hours.
So far, All Dick could remember was his years of expertise with computers, his time in college earning a degree in Networking, and a brush with the law after he'd spied on some Department of Defense sites; mainly as a gag to impress a hottie Senior chick. Was that how he'd come to work here? The Feds were probably holding a felony conviction over his head, if he screwed this up.
So... Multiple races of sexual predators had been manipulating mankind for millenia, obscuring the truth of their activities with a variety of legends and myths. All the while corrupting civilizations with their irresistable sex-appeal when their numbers grew too powerful: And it was his job to keep them bottled up; and see if their incredible abilities could be adapted to benefit mankind.
But his mind easily accepted this information with little anxiety or trepidation. It felt... right somehow, to spend his days in black vinyl chaps, working the cash-register in a Strip-club/Porn Emporium, when he wasn't baby-sitting captive succubi.
A massive, titanium portal looking like an armored garage door raised open before him; and he strode boldly into his assigned section: The Supernatural Wing.
The actual containment wings were constructed primarily of thick panels of hardened plexiglass; both the cells and the floor. It was a dizzying sight to behold this corridor, and the two others below him at the same time. Such transparency made it all the easier to notice a security breach. Between each cell and floor there were also boxes within the plexiglass that contained obscure machinery of a function not immediately apparent.
Dick raised an eyebrow at a sign he passed proclaiming: SEXUAL CONTACT WITH NYMPHOIDS OF ANY STRAIN IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED. That was the whole point wasn't it? Keeping these randy little sex-fiends from getting laid? Do they need to remind the Staff? But when he passed the first cell, he understood.
At the sight of him, impossibly gorgeous women tore off white, hospital smocks and thrust buoyant boobs of impossible pertness into the light. Shivers went down his spine as he beheld the shockingly refined beauty of the sex demons.
Many seemed of almost indeterminate age; with all the supple ripeness of a jailbait seductress, yet blossoming with the fecund curves of a woman in the summer of her child-bearing potential. He almost leaped at the sight of a tanned, blond nymphoid of especially statuesque legs, her facial features were naturally pronounced as if she'd been given a Salon makeover; but confined as she was that would never happen. These beings naturally assumed shapes as pleasing as possible to their prey.
A collective moan arose through the first corridor; the Nymphoids had enough experience to note when a male was awed by their beauty. They leapt to the plexiglass walls that sealed them away, snarling in triumph at the anticipated victory.
Bright eyes glared from the cells with consuming hunger; their urge to feast upon his manhood was an insane passion that easily crushed any semblance of modesty, as the naked sluts paraded their fabulous juggs in twin rows on either side of him. Did all Supernaturals act this way? Dick wondered what... ah... there; the sign above the cells that ran lengthwise on the upper wall... These were Class 3's, Flesh-feeders - specifically semen-eaters, the sign warned.
He gulped, and tried not to stare too hard; better not to stare at all at them. The Cajun monster that called itself Yvette Leroux merely enjoyed having men cum inside her pussy; (she fed upon the emotional arousal of sexual lust) but these demons would be craving semen with a ferocity beyond reason; they needed cum itself to survive!
"THE BEST... BLOW-JOB... EVER... DAMNIT!" snarled a buxom brunette writhing naked near the level of Dick's pelvis. He had no doubt. As a Class 3, blow-jobs were her meal-ticket; sperm her true sustenance. Under the gentle caress of a creature like her, he'd probably cum before he had a chance to get his underwear off all the way! She licked the glass at his crotch level with palpable hunger.
Dick was far more uncomfortable than aroused; being surrounded by people (well they looked like people) that wanted something from him with such maddening intensity, and being forbidden from providing it.
Perhaps it was fortunate he couldn't see the face of the red-head in cell 6; with her ripe ass-cheeks and moist cunt displayed before him as she hunched doggy-style on hands and knees. She grunted, posturing herself; as if through force of will, and lust, she could compel him to open her cage, ream her pussy, and ejaculate the divine elixir that she craved more fervently than a crack whore wished for her next fix. But then, after the incident with the Class 1, Dick wasn't at all certain that she couldn't!
The cells he passed also had smaller, italicized names above each door: one read 'Lamia', another 'Mara'... a second 'Mara', then, in cell 12, there was a gorgeous, pert-breasted asian woman of pale and haunting elegance who was labeled 'Yuki-Onna'. Dick suspected that these were the legendary names of these beings of pure lust, all grouped together according to their scientific classification as Class 3 Supernaturals.
Some of them began to drop their charades, perhaps losing confidence that they could seduce Dick, and mascara-laden eyes began to glow red, on one raven-haired, eastern-european beauty, small red horns started to sprout. A dark-skinned she-devil sprouted black, feathery wings, roaring in equal parts rage and lust. These bitches would tear him to shreds should they somehow be released! But he wasn't that worried; each cell had an Evangelon on the front, and there were vents that could spray holy water foam that could be activated with a mere switch into each cell, further weakening the supernatural sluts jiggling and masturbating within.
But Dick couldn't help but wonder; since these Class 3's fed exclusively on human, male semen, how did Area 69 sustain them if they were to be prevented from feeding amongst the general public?
As if on cue, a small panel slid open inside of each cell, and a thick, plastic, white dildo slid outwards, angling upwards as the sound of mechanical pumps thrummed from within the walls. With beastial hunger, the sluts attacked the plastic cocks, as a rich, semen-like pudding jetted outwards.
"NOT... THE SAME... MM-SLURP" complained a brown-haired succubi with a spiny tail flickering around her ass. "POOR... IMITATION OF... SLUK REAL SEED..." Yet still she consumed the concoction greedily. The sex-toys were all molded to be as anatomically life-like as possible; shaped to resemble a 9-inch long, circumsized penis.
"COCK! NEED REAL COCK!!!" added the Yuki-Onna.
"REAL-COCK!" came the chant, all eyes still riveted upon the only living manly member that was trying not to harden within a covering of black vinyl. Hmm... so the Agents provided some sort of chemical substitute semen?
"NOT ENOUGH... THE CRAVING... STILL STRONG!!" shrieked a red-eyed little minx with an exceptionally large ass, and blonde-highlighted hair down to her navel. As this demoness turned to regard Dick, the machine jetted the creamy, pearly, semen-substitute upon her ample, coconut-sized, breasts. The pudding leaving streaks down her vast cleavage like the tell-tale tracks of an orgy that never was. It sure looked real enough.
Hurriedly, Dick fled this section of the Class 3 holding chambers; trying to blot out of his mind the images; vast, naked boobs wobbling with fertile vitality as they became speckled with cum. None of the Nymphoids had tits smaller than grapefruits, but no two were alike. And the images... the jutting, jiggling bonanza of boobs in many different shades and shapes with rivulets of mock-semen trailing down upon nipple and cleavage alike was an image that would haunt him. Most of course, wasted not a drop of even this imitation ejaculate, their impassioned fellatio upon the plastic penises reminders of the pleasure that could be his; should he be willing to take the risk.
"NEED... LIVE SEMEN! REAL SEMEN! REAL COCK! NOT... FAKES!!" roared a naked, black-haired succubus with cum-streaked breasts near to bowling-ball size.
"Yeah, sorry girls. I feel the same way about Low-Carb foods."