Chapter 121

0315 hours, local time,
Tuesday, 22 July, 2014
Michaels Residence,
Hinton, West Virginia

I was balls deep inside Penelope Cruz as she recounted how she had a last minute premonition to stop in Mobile, Alabama, instead of flying on to Madrid to have her baby on Doomsday. It saved her life and that of her newborn daughter at the time. Unfortunately, she got separated from her son and her husband, actor Javier Bardem, both of whom perished in the Fireball that struck Spain’s capital. When she was kidnapped, she was also separated from her younger child, who at least ended up with her sister, Monica.

“Is Monica still in Mobile, then?” I asked Penelope as I kept humping her and admiring her lovely buns, such a wonderful complexion.

“No, she fled in a hurry to Puerto Rico, and then boarded a ship to Cadiz. Which is where I would like to go. It’s an ancient city, Cadiz, and I would like to begin my career as an elder or minister in the new religion or whatever there. With my sister and my daughter present. What’s left of my family, if you will. I swear that I will spread both the new faith and ... Schumacher Syndrome in Cadiz, thus giving both even more presence abroad. Advancing your ... our cause,” Penelope swore to me.

“Oh, I don’t doubt that. Once Schumacher Syndrome grabs you, it won’t let go of you. You’ll be under its sway. You will be a great example and teacher to so many Spaniards, I am sure. You will be for our faith what various saints were for Christianity. Wasn’t it Saint James who was credited with that task by legend and tradition?” I observed, even as Jeanette healed any bruises and rimmed the Spanish beauty with abandon.

“I cannot wait to have it transform me, then! I also cannot wait to conceive our love child, the fruit of my lust and ... affection ... and gratitude to you for setting me free! I will have your name, and then ... her name ... tattooed on my bottom! If you ever visit me in Spain, I will gladly fuck you again and again, and the same with ... her!” Penelope moaned as Jeanette’s tongue tickled her tush.

“That sounds wonderful, but you are correct! You would have a powerful pulpit from which to convert so many Spaniards to the true path. You could, in time, almost single-handedly wrest your native country from Christianity in all forms. It is already in decline. It simply needs to be replaced by another faith. Our faith. Our church. Our religion. With the New Schism, the Catholic Church is weaker than ever. This could be the coup de grace, finishing it off, thanks to you,” I encouraged Penelope, even as she shuddered and squirted on my cock.

When I began impulsively to pull her long, dark hair, Penelope screamed, “Don’t you dare stop that! Pull it! Pull my hair! Spank my ass, too!”

I naturally granted her wishes, of course. My cock slid furiously in and out of Penelope’s gash while I fucked her with a vigor that left no question of my prowess and my intentions. She pushed back at me with her wonderful booty, even as I smacked it and Jeanette licked it. She bucked her hips and made a point of intensifying the action while I admired her gorgeous bare back and buttocks.

“Do it ... knock me up ... I don’t care if I have a son or daughter, as long as they’re yours and they remind me of the man who set me free and helped me go home!” Penelope exclaimed as she clenched my prick with her pussy and squeezed out every last drop of my jizz from my balls.

Luckily, with Schumacher Syndrome, I always made more pretty fast, and even more so as a resurrected superhuman. This thought made me wonder again just how superior my DNA must be nowadays. Penelope, like so many other women bred by me, would surely give birth to some kind of Novus Homo or “New Man.” What Communism failed to produce, we Prophets, especially the undead ones, would certainly achieve: a breakthrough in human evolution.

Before I could stand up, Penelope moved her ass away from Jeanette’s tongue and reached behind her to hold her cheeks apart. This was an obvious invitation and I gladly accepted while making out with my cousin and tasting the butt sweat of the sultry Spaniard. I began fucking Penelope’s booty rather aggressively, my cock going deeper until I bottomed out inside her slick and delectable bum. Jeanette winked at me at she left to free the next hostage on the list.

Noah Wyle soon appeared in a half-dead state and had to be revived, having been starved so much by his captors in St. George, Utah, that he lost forty pounds that he couldn’t spare. I left his health in God’s hands ... and Jeanette’s, but it was obvious that he would need to stay in Hinton. Carrie and Mandy Corcoran, quite understandably, volunteered to nurse him back to health. Of course, him being a TV heartthrob couldn’t possibly be their motive for that, right?