Carmen sneered. "Amateurs!" She muttered as she surveyed the competition. She was standing on the doorstep of a cozy, suburban middle-class house that had recently seen massive and expansive renovation to add new rooms. A sure fire clue that the competition would be fierce.

"And what makes YOU so special?" snarled one of her competitors, a midnight-haired, tattooed beauty in a red string bikini. A tattoo of two lovers embracing on her taut abs seemed to move as she spoke, the inked lovers embracing on the canvass of her skin.

"I'll do ANYTHING! ANYTHING for him!" moaned a writhing woman whose hair and skin seemed to constantly shift. As she spoke, her blond hair changed color into a pale near-white platinum blond Her eyes changed from green to blue.

"That's not true," Carmen countered. "You don't even care who HE is!"

"He's a man! A man who craves women! He'll crave my body! I'll make sure!" The woman began massaging her smooth buttocks through the sleazy black-lace garters and lingerie she wore, and her ass cheeks seemed to plump up in seconds - widening from a modestly normal girth to the roundness of twin volleyballs. "Men ... like asses ... fertility - my body will show him my fertility and he will yearn to fill me with his seed!" She moaned, as her lips grew plump and pouty, and her hair darkened towards a mahogany shade.

"You may need to be more creative, Nora." remarked the black-haired woman with the moving tattoos.

"But I'll do ANYTHING Leila! I'll become whatever he wantsssss!" Nora moaned as her hair grew blond highlights as it turned dark brown while her legs stretched taller. "He'll fuck me! I know it! I know it!" Carmen rolled her eyes.

"You've let your hunger take over your thoughts." Carmen accused the shape-shifting Nora. "He won't be impressed just because you're a desperate nymphomaniac! The days when you could just grab some guy and shove his face between your tits are over! At least in this town!"

"And you?" The woman named Leila asked, resting her hands on her hips as she studied Carmen. "Nice bronze-brown cascading hair ... looks salon-styled, but nothing special. Pretty enough face, boobs no bigger than a Double-D ... red cocktail dress and ... are those real high-heeled shoes you're wearing?" Leila scoffed. "You look like nothing more than a human supermodel! You should take your own advice!" Carmen let a hint of a smile play across her red-glistening lips.

"Worry about yourself! I've got this Audition covered!" she replied confidently. Leila and Nora frowned.

"The Ad in the paper only mentioned one position!" Leila remarked. "Making him feel sorry for you won't help any more than just bombarding him with tits."

"If you only knew..." Carmen said in a sibilant whisper. Of course, she wasn't about to reveal her best tricks to her competition! The Position, and the sweet, sweet reward would be hers alone!

"Whatever he wants ... I'll do ... I'll become his desire! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck meeeeeeeee!" Nora gurgled as she caressed her enlarging breasts; sprouting from 5-inch long E-cup melons to party-balloon sized feminine mounds over the course of five seconds. She didn't even seem to hear the conversation; consumed with her dreams of lust and seduction.

It looked as though they were the only three for today, and they waited - planned and schemed on the front porch. Waiting. Studying each other. Leila, skimpy bikini filled to overflowing with ponderous boobs as long as footballs and wide as cantaloupes straining against the spaghetti straps, nipples thrusting prominently, as tattooed images played across her flesh. Silhouettes of gorgeous women, busty fairies, elegant hands and shapely legs. They moved and shifted languidly, as if each and every tattoo was the lover of all the others. Her eyes were shadowed, but her gaze was a brilliant shade of silver-blue. Her ink-black hair cascaded in onyx waves and exuded a hint of jasmine scent.

In this town, just four months ago such a woman could have conjured an army of admirers. She postured, tilted her hips, tossed her hair, jiggled her boobs as the early afternoon sunlight played along her marriage-shattering female curves. A few months ago, if Leila were to merely walk down the street she would leave a chorus of painful slaps in her wake wherever couples might be found. But things had changed; way too much competition these days. But even so, Leila was well suited to the game at hand.

Nora's appearance was hard to succinctly describe, changing constantly the way she did. Some of the time, she had one hair color that was blending slowly into something new, but the rest of the time her hair had patches and streaks of other highlights. But Nora couldn't seem to decide whether her boobs, hips, or legs were more important. Her intentions pathologically nymphomaniacal, it seemed like she couldn't decide what woman to be. A near constant use of her natural shape-shifting powers fed a sort of physical insecurity - To Carmen, there was the sense that Nora feared that a man would pass her by if her beauty was insufficient - but there were so many different flavors of human women! As if Nora thought that all her dreams of pussy-pounding love-making would come true if she could just find the right shape of tits, the right curve of her ass.

Her massive jugs swelled and bounced as she enlarged them, cooing to herself about 'men and their love of boobs'. But moments later, she would mutter something like 'men are excited by wide hips like mine' ... Various parts of her anatomy would grow more or less curvaceous in response to her panicked, desperate mood. Her clothes too, would change. Black-lace lingerie would morph into pink bikini bottoms and white, wet T-shirt ... then into a flowery white bra and underwear. But of course, none of it was real. The clothing was just a disguise. Nora moaned again, she was consumed by a raging hunger that dominated her thoughts, her motivation. It was a hunger that Leila and Carmen felt as well, that all their kind felt.

As they waited, there was a bit of activity. A low rumbling sound was apparent from the south, near the direction of the lawn of a small, white bricked-house across the street from the trio. The rumbling grew into a persistent, thunderous din. Soon a camouflaged, multi-tread armored fighting vehicle barreled into view, crushing a white picket fence as it veered in an uneven course across the residential street. It was a blocky, ponderous vehicle, probably built to withstand fire from heavy assault-rifles, explosives, and low-yield mortar-fire.

But the fighting-vehicle had a weak point - it's crew. The mighty armor could repel high-caliber ammunition, but it could not withstand this new form of attack.

A hatch opened near the top, and a panting young soldier stuck his head up - as if to escape.

"Im ... Impossible..." the young man whispered as he tried to crawl away. He was naked, his muscled flesh decorated with lipstick kisses. A giggling came from within the vehicle, and several smiling, female faces also emerged from the hatch to surround the struggling soldier.

They were redheads, with pillowy breasts as large as their own heads framed by ringlet cascades of orange-red tresses. The soldier made it to the front hood of the moving vehicle, before he was bore to his back and molested by the giggling females.

With a moan of relief as much as lust, a naked redhead thrust herself upon the soldier's rigid cock - breasts rolling as she rode him like a whore in heat. Another, nearly identical woman thrust her quivering breast in his face, with a nipple going into his mouth. The third slut took hold of the man's free hand, and ran it down her bountiful curves down towards the heat between her legs.

"Feel me," The third redhead murmured. "Feel my heat, my lust, the softness of my breasts." The besieged soldier jerked suddenly - with the fury of a relentless orgasm that arched his back as it exploded out of him. The red whore riding his member howled in ecstasy, eyes widening as though she'd just won the lottery. It was not that she shared the climax of the man she ravished, but just having him spurting his seed within her produced a volcanic bliss just as powerful as the mightiest human orgasm.

Of course, that's how it was with all of them. They didn't have sex for an orgasm, sex was simply the means needed to get a human male to release his seed inside them.

In the end, it all came down to sperm.

Carmen didn't begrudge Nora her gurgle of frantic yearning, or the way the shape-shifting slut slid her fingers between her legs in hopeful hunger. Carmen herself was drooling openly at the sight before them in the street.

But it was not to be; the redhead thrusting her breasts in the soldier's mouth noticed them, and gave a warning frown and scowl. No surprise. For a young, healthy man like this, most of her kind would do anything necessary to secure him. And these redheads had laid claim to the soldier, and Carmen had no way to divert them from their moaning, ejaculating prize.

Another soldier tried to emerge from the vehicle, a heavily-muscled black man with a shaved head. But he hadn't even pulled his shoulders out of the hatch before graceful, pale hands bore him back down amidst high-pitched giggling. Soon, the moans from within the vehicle challenged the hoarse-throated shouts of orgy taking place without.

It was Leila who broke the tension from the thwarted longing they all felt.

"That silly Governor must have gone through with his stupid plan to declare a state of emergency." She scoffed. "Just because he's afraid at how fast we've been replicating lately. He just doesn't get it."

"Well, it wouldn't surprise me if he's 'getting it' right now!" Carmen jibed as the trio laughed. Politicians and soldiers were prime targets. It would be just a matter of time before that paranoid governor surrendered his body and sperm just as these soldiers were doing.

"Silly ... to be so afraid ... of us..." Nora hissed as she ran hands across her own thighs and ass. "Men should stop worrying about where we came from, and just start fucking me more!" she moaned. Her skin darkened into a Hindu-Indian complexion as she attempted to grow five inches of jutting breast in less than ten seconds. Nora struggled to heft bowling-ball tits as she groaned her lust at the heavens.

"These guys are taken, Nora. Those reds will do anything to keep them away from competitors, like us!" Carmen informed her, unnecessarily.

"But ... my tits! So big! There will be a Man! A Man with a powerrrrrrrful Libido!!" Nora drawled almost as a plea.

"What, you think that just because your tits are that big, some man is going to just fall out of the sky just to rape you?" Leila scoffed.

"PLEASE?!" Nora bemoaned in hopeless supplication. "I LIKE IT ROUGH!!!!" she shouted to a hypothetical sky-falling man with a high libido. "OR GENTLE!!!" She vacillated. "MAKE LOVE TO MEEEEE!!! Or ... or ... TAKE ME HARD AND DEEP WITH YOUR RAGING PENISSSS!!!!!!" She screeched. That should cover just about all the bases of human sexual performance.

The inquisitive part of Carmen's brain thought that was interesting. Many humans believed her kind WERE aliens. Now Nora was appealing to men from the sky to feed her thermonuclear sexual compulsion. OF course, Carmen suspected most humans would consider the origin of her kind a valid, pressing question.

Though she searched her race memory for an answer, Carmen herself - none of her kind really - had a clear memory that explained their existence. That probably meant they had once been some simple protoplasm with nothing at all like a conscious mind to make memories. But they had always had a biological ability to feed from, and grow off of the DNA from other species. It was just inevitable that somewhere in the past, some lineage hit upon the ability to use all that DNA to copy another creature to allow for mimicry. And that mimicry allowed one of her distant ancestors to provoke sexual behavior in lower organisms. What better way to secure a heavy, persistent dose of the DNA they needed? And naturally, they became a lot like the species they mated with - until the fateful day that one of them made the leap, tried to mimic a human, and succeeded!

Human DNA had changed everything for them. The cunning ancestor that got herself fucked by a man opened up a new world of possibilities. Carmen's ancestors that followed were better able to take the shape of women. And from there, they developed self-awareness and intelligence like a human - which gave them the ability to strategize to get more DNA. But it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what kind of women they needed to become. Now, in cities all over this country a species of shape shifters had fine-tuned their bodies and behavior to become the most erotic seductresses most men could ever imagine.

Was Carmen an alien from some wayward space-rock that crashed on Earth? Was she a government genetic experiment run amok? She didn't know, and didn't really care. She was here now, and willing to do whatever it took to entice her man. Whatever her species had once been, wherever it had originally come from, now Carmen's kind was fully adapted to the role of seducing human men for their sperm. It had been so easy for her ancestors; the first ones to master taking the shape of women got all the cock they could handle! Those days had been a blur of glutted satisfaction!

Not anymore; these days a girl had to be clever - she had to do something special. Carmen smiled to herself. Her pussy began quivering like a hungry mouth in anticipation of the male sperm she was about to feast on. That feast might come sooner rather than later.

An unconscious, heavily-tattooed Hispanic soldier tumbled out of the hatch. He was naked, and glistening, panting heavily. No doubt he'd just had more sex in the past half-hour than in the previous decade. Though rightfully exhausted, Carmen could see his penis - she could see the way his entire male apparatus pulsed rhythmically, and she knew that the Hormones were affecting him. As much sex as he'd just had; after a brief rest he would be awakened by a libido even stronger than before!

The fighting vehicle veered off into a ditch near the side of the road, its crew being ravished by naked, nymphomaniacal shape-shifters that took the forms of the sluttiest, bustiest whores the men had ever seen. But whore wasn't quite the right word to use; none of them would ever determine whether to have sex with a man based on money. For Leila, Nora, and Carmen - as well as the redheads about thirty feet away, the factor that determined whether or not to have sex with a man was whether they could catch him!

One of the soldiers tumbled from the vehicle, encased in a writhing cushion of female flesh. The redheads, unwilling to wait for turns, tried to make love to the man four at a time. Each whispering their lusty desires in his ear as they pressed their flesh against him beneath, on top, and to either side. But one woman sat on the front end of the armored vehicle, glaring daggers at the nearby trio - just in case they planned on joining the orgy themselves. Many harems could be quite restrictive.

Several minutes later, their prospects improved slightly, because there - stumbling out of the bushes behind the row of houses to the east - came what was certainly a man. Hmmm ... he was a drifter - homeless and bedraggled. He had a cardboard sign folded up in a hiker's backpack he struggled under. It seemed as though a feather duster was attached to his face but no ... no that was simply a very unkempt beard. It was rare to see a homeless bum in suburbs like this but with the police so distracted, it was apparently possible. Of course, any human woman would simply throw pennies at him, drive off and try to forget - not so with Carmen and her kin.

Leila and Nora gasped in delight and began to posture themselves, but not Carmen. She had a plan, and was not to be distracted from the purpose that brought her here. Furthermore, it was not to be. A screech of tires from the left drew the girls' attention as a newly-polished Chrysler limousine tore out from around the corner to the south driving with a desperation borne of panic. And it was not alone, following in its wake where two other similar limos.

The first limousine skidded its tires to block the bum's path just as he was crossing from a manicured lawn onto the suburban street. To other black, glistening limos drove around until they all came to a stop, boxing the bum in with a triangular holding pattern.

Months ago, you would have expected to find a billionaire, professional athlete, or Washington politician ferried in cars like this, but not here, not now. The doors and skylight opened and a dazzling parade of bikini-clad centerfold-worthy females emerged.

"Please don't be alarmed!" said a blond bombshell approaching him with hands open, as if he were a stray cat that might bolt at any moment.

"It may look strange, but please let us help you!" moaned a sultry brunette from a limo to the bum's right - emerging from the door and holding up E-cup breasts before him like some kind of bosomy peace offering.

"You must be starving! We will feed and shelter you!" A scintillating beauty in a white bikini with a Hispanic look emerged from the car behind the bum offering him a cellophane wrapped roast-beef submarine sandwich and a bottled water. More emerged with hot, portable cups of instant soup. "You don't have to wander anymore."

"Look at my breasts!" Insisted the sultry brunette. "See how firm and ripe they are? You can touch them!"

"Let us care for you!"

"Touch my breasts first!"

"Don't worry about your problems, let us help you! We can give you food! and pleasure" others insisted. Food and drink were thrust into the bum's hand - whose mind was having trouble processing a mixture of fear, lust, and surprise. But he began drinking the water with a wary look on his face.

"Look at how round and tight my ass is! A mocha-skinned lovely with raven-black hair insisted, swaying her hips before him. "This bikini can barely contain my breasts! Think of how much fun it would be to throw me to the ground and force yourself on my naked body!" She breathed with a throaty, desperate hiss. Soon, he was surrounded, his backpack was removed from his shoulders and placed in a trunk as the lurid pleas continued.

"Please fuck me!" Insisted a green-eyed blond

"Please rape me!" pleaded a red-haired rival.

He was half-dragged, half-carried to the first limousine amidst coos of delight, and passionate kisses to his filthy, beard-choked face. Even before the doors closed, naked breasts could be seen pressed to the windows, and the bum's clothing was removed. The limousines locked themselves and prepared to speed away.

It had all happened so fast.

It was a difficult pill to swallow for the three onlookers.

"No ... no ... no! Why can't he fuck me! I know I can pleasure him! Fuck MEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!" Nora shrieked, as her breasts began to throb. Leila and Carmen were feeling it too; seeing successful couplings so close by was stimulating ferocious sexual instincts. They all began panting; their bodies and minds entering a frenzy of sexual yearning. Nora fell to her knees with a grunt clutching her still-growing boobs. But Leila also slumped back against the brick wall of the house, fingering her crotch and massaging her breasts.

"My body ... on fire ... I need a man ... need to copulate with him." The tattooed shape shifter wailed. "My breasts ... need to entice him ... seduce him... RRRNNNNN feed him! Touch me..." She panted in a voice quavering with lust. "My body ... so soft, so female ... for him!" Not that it mattered who 'HE' was at this point. "He will feed from my breasts!" Leila continued in a delirious diatribe. "Milk will flow from my tits for him. He will force me to the ground, and thrust! Thrust his cock inside meeeee!" At that point Nora squealed as she seized her own pillowy mounds in sympathetic yearning.

Leila's tits began to quiver, her nipples throbbing ... hardening. The tattoos that were a part of her shape shifting ability took on the outline of human women with rapidly inflating breasts growing and exploding out of their bras. The strings on her spaghetti-strap bikini tightened like a bowstring as her breasts began to push - surge forward as if trying to blast off from her chest.

Leila's jugs, already suitably massive began to rise up, growing perkier as nipples pushed forward past two more cup-sizes as though sprouting from within. By watching Leila's skin you knew how it would end. A line-art image of the top-half of a girl across her taut abdomen clutched herself as the lines representing her breasts grew and grew like loaves of bread in an oven. Soon, the line image was of a topless girl with curving lines shooting out from her illustrated nipples. It was a forewarning of what was to come.

It started with Nora first. Her mammalian mountains twitched as they grew from a size scarcely larger than ripe cantaloupes towards the girth of party balloons, bulbous mounds of taut-nippled, tear-drop shaped glory that soon widened even as they lengthened. In less than five seconds her tits would be a challenge for twin watermelons. But even before then, the release!

As Nora wallowed on the cement porch her quivering, mountainous boobs burst forth with tight, high-pressure streams of white, warm milk as she gurgled with lust. Nora's hair changing from brown to a pure bleached white.

"The need ... the instinct ... too strong!" Leila complained as she dispensed entirely with the bikini. The straps simply melted back into her skin. Of course, clothing had little meaning to a shape shifter Anything one of them seemed to be wearing was really just a part of their bodies. Now Leila was nude, and gave a cry something like a lustful surrender as she sank hands into her ballooning mamms while white, sweet milk cascaded from hardening nippled over her wrists.

"Got to ... pull ourselves together." Carmen grunted, brow twitching as she tried to fight the instincts of her body as well. Long before her ancestors had mastered human mimicry, they had been seducing and absorbing the genetic material of many mammals, and their bodies had an acutely developed milk-giving impulse. "G-got to ... focus on the interview..." Carmen continued. "W-we ... haven't been fucked by a man in ... a long time ... that makes us desperate." The others just moaned as they milked.

Nora, as she wallowed naked, busty, and dribbling with her own breast milk began to exude a pungent scent. It was a powerful pheromone weapon that disabled inhibition and discrimination in human males. A few months ago, if there'd been a guy close enough for a whiff of her mind-bending musk, there was little doubt that his mind and body would be so electrified that he would probably jump her bones even with wife in tow! Of course these days, that just wasn't enough.

"I know I ... if I'm sexy enough ... slutty enough ... if my boobs are big enough ... the man will find me..." Nora gurgled, eyes fluttering as she became lost in a delirious vision of mind-bending nymphomania. "He'll find me ... he'll grab me ... by the boobs, he'll force himself onto me ... his cock will be HUGE ... and he'll rape me ... all night long ... screw ... fuck ... rape my pussy!" Not that the term had any real meaning for them. Can't rape the more-than-willing.

Just a moment ... just to relax ... Carmen thought as she let her resolve slip. She exhaled deeply, her red cocktail dress expanded outwards as her breasts bulged forward and up. The tight cutoff created swelling heaps of cleavage that blossomed from apple-sized half-mounds of compressed tit, widening several inches towards a grapefruit shape and size. Dark spots of moisture appeared at the front of the red dress in six seconds, the time it took for the top bulge of cleavage spilling out of the dress to reach honeydew melon size.

But then, Carmen dispensed with the deception. She had never really been wearing a red cocktail dress, just as Leila had not been wearing a bikini, nor Nora black lingerie. Her shape shifting powers adjusted textures and colors until she had the appearance of wearing whatever she thought would interest a man. But the fake dress melted back into her skin, as she allowed herself a moment of release, gratifying her rampant sexual instincts.

Carmen pinched her nipples sharply, eliciting twin streams of hot milk, yearning to feed it to her man.

Because once a human male drank milk from a shape shifter, he would belong to her.

What a scene this was, Carmen realized. A few months ago the sight of three naked women standing here, in broad daylight shooting milk from their breasts while openly caressing themselves would have mobilized the police, at least. But now? No danger of that!

But Leila and Nora were both succumbing to a sperm-starved delirium of lust, worsened by the fact that they'd just seen two eligible men dragged beyond their reach by the competition.

"A man will come." Leila stated, staring down at the writhing, shape-shifting, milk-spurting Nora.

"His penis will be enormous..." Nora added. Leila grabbed Nora's hands. "He will yearn to touch my breasts ... like this." She brought the other female's hand to her own breasts, where they sank into the pillowy flesh.

"The man, he is driven mad by breasts so large; breasts like mine..." Nora contributed, eyelids fluttering as she submitted to the fantasy.

"He will want to suckle you..." Leila noted, as she latched onto one of Nora's nipples, savoring her hot lactate as the two joined together on the ground in a delirious, lesbian congress.

"The man ... will run his hands over the softness of your body - " Nora said, doing just that, hands finding silken landscapes of tattooed delight on the toned belly, and down between the legs of the other alien female, as they sank down together in a sweat-drenched sapphic embrace. Here, in broad daylight. Neither the two of them, nor Carmen had any expectation that the authorities would be able to put a stop to busty lesbians suckling each other's breasts in broad daylight.

And it sure would be fun to see them try!

But Carmen was going to be stronger than that. Though she was ladened with consuming sexual instincts, she also knew the value of delayed gratification. She had a specific reason for this house, at this time. She knew that with so much competition, she needed a plan beyond howling with lust, and she had one! But her resolve wouldn't last forever; if she didn't get a good shot of man seed soon, she would devolve into mindless nymphomania.

And she couldn't allow that.

Her competitors were lezzing out big-time, but only as an outlet of pure frustration over their lasting lack of male attention. Leila grunted as she wallowed atop Nora, embracing her around the neck.

"This ... is what I'll do ... to my man!" She thrust her tongue down the other female's mouth, as hands traveled from hips, to boobs, and back again. Colossal breasts sandwiched together forming a busty quartet of straining bosom that seemed to grow riper even as Carmen watched.

"My man ... his hands ... his tongue ... will ravish me!" Nora insisted, as she began to make use of her shape-shifting traits in the perverse spectacle. As the thrashing couple tongue-wrestled with their mouths, Nora grew a new tongue down below, right out of her own pussy! This allowed for a deep, moist and intense penetration of the other female - who followed suit. Soon, both females were licking each other - tongues locked together - both from their mouths, and new tongues from each pussy - teasing out and caressing each-other's fabled G-spots.

The raw sexuality began to push Carmen's restraint; beyond her normally stoic resolve. Her naked breasts perked up even higher, and with a throaty groan she released from her nipples simultaneous milk jets as her breathing accelerated. She ran her hands down from her own throbbing breasts to the simmering heat that quivered within her groin. Without meaning it, her pussy began to release her most intense pheromone attractant.

Just keep telling yourself how sexy you are ... Carmen thought to herself, as a wave of frenzied nymphomania swept over her. My breasts ... spectacular! Skin ... so perfect ... my mating musk ... intoxicating! Carmen had a mental exercise for those times when the eternal hunt was going poorly, when sperm was in such short supply:

She would picture herself entering a human religious cathedral in an urban area. There would be a confessional booth where a priest would discuss with parishioners their sins. And hers would be a sin of lust! She would sit in the shadowed booth and confess to the priest of the way her breasts would throb at the thought of - almost any man! The intensity of her sexual cravings. Slowly, her mating musk would build up in the confined space.

And in this fantasy, she would confess that her desires were so deep, so pervasive towards the male gender, that if this priest himself were to make a play for her, she would welcome his meaty hands upon her tender, quivering breasts. The priest would pretend to be a devoted servant of chastity and higher powers; but it would be clear from the sweat beading on his brow that his resolve was wavering.