Chapter 1: Penis-Count

"Onions?"

"Check."

"Hymenoptera Braconidae?"

"Check."

The parasitic wasps buzzed angrily in the jar with the perforated top that I kept them in for most missions.

"BT extract?"

"Check."

Yes, the glass vials of bacillus thuringiensis bacterial toxin were fully loaded into cylindrical metal cannisters for easy delivery.

"Spray Gun?"

"Check."

"Jammers?"

"Check."

Probably unnecessary; but I always felt better knowing that my enemy couldn't use cell phones to warn others of what was coming.

"That's everything."

"And you're sure about the guns?"

I nodded.

"They're not as effective as you'd think; and there's too much trouble with the Police. There's just no way I could explain myself if I got caught." I reminded her. "They're not put-together like us; bullets ... ehh ... not the best choice. but that's just one more reminder not to sympathize with them."

"And now it's time." she said to me, looking at the door to 103 Yarborough Terrace; my latest target.

Right at Dusk was the best time for the attack; the odds were best that the entire hive would have returned for feeding, but many of them would be weaker after a full days' activity. If I did it later at night, the orgy would be in full swing, and the enemy would be faster and more cunning after some of them had a chance to feed. Too early in the day, and I'd miss maybe half of the targets, who would go underground, lie low, and just set up a new hive somewhere else.

But as I kicked in the front door with a running charge, I knew that the chances were good I'd find every one of the bitches together under one roof; and the great majority would be weak with hunger still.

At first blush, you would have thought it was a high-end brothel or escort service. The women were sleek and toned, with vivacious figures of voluptuous beauty that belonged in a Hooters restaurant, or perhaps a modeling runway. There were a variety of beauties; several ethnicities and hair-colors.

As I stormed through the door; they seemed to be separated by clothing - three girls in a corner wearing dominatrix leathers. Four more stood near a sofa wearing a selection of string bikinis and chatting in low voices, Two walking away from me down the hallway wearing scandalously-tight cocktail dresses, these were puzzling over why one of their cell phones wasn't working. All of them slim and sultry paragons of flowing-haired femininity; each looking no older than perhaps twenty-five. But that was a lie. All of it was a lie.

I started out with the hymenoptera. The angry wasps buzzed frantically and aggressively around the room once I violently shattered their jar in the midst of the bikini-beauties. That would get them to panic; make it harder to organize a counterattack. But one of the spandex-dominatrixes was ready for me; and I saw the cloud of faint, purple mists blowing towards me. Not that it mattered; I was already wearing a rag strapped to my face loaded with onions. I was barely able to breathe; but her pheromones would be blunted to a tolerable level now that adrenaline was pumping through my system.

My spraying weapon was a modified version of a car-wash water nozzle, modified and adapted for my singular purpose. The BT-toxin doused the dominatrixes, causing them to screech with terror as I moved on to the center of the room. Most of the girls were fleeing from the wasps, but I was able to mist the entire sofa and living room with BT, and the shapely derriers of my fleeing enemies.

The next one to stand against me was a tall blond with sparkling blue eyes clad in a silver-glittering string bikini - but I could see strange folds and strands moving away from her clothing, and her eyes started to shift into a mesmerizing kaleidoscope of colors, meaning that she was about to reveal her true form; but I was ready.

Without hesitation I reached and grabbed a nipple on her bouncy D-cups and gave her sharp, abrupt nipple-twist. That shocked her enough to distract her, and allowed me to bring the nozzle to bear; soaking her from head to foot in the bacterial pesticide. Her screams of fear didn't slow me as I continued into the house.

I heard another BT nozzle blasting, and new it to be Jessie. The Gorgeous brunette was my strong right hand, my trusted partner. She waited outside on guard; a few always tried to slip past me and escape; but Jessie made sure to douse them good; now it wouldn't matter if they escaped.

I found two more in the kitchen, redheads nude except for frilly aprons which exhorted the reader to 'Kiss the Cook' as they carried bowls of stew freshly prepared.

Still eating solid food. That was a good sign.

No doubt the food was contaminated with their aphrodisiac breast milk. They can kiss the barrel of my weapon. Instead they screamed as the wasps attacked them, and my BT spray sprinkled them.

I came to a hallway going in two directions; I'd actually been in this house once ... long ago ... seemed like another lifetime ago. Some changes, but I knew the basic layout.

"Jessie, Bedroom check!" I shouted to my trusted companion. "I've got the basement!" Smooth as clockwork, we both rushed to our tasks. Coming up the stairs I found a bronze-skinned, naked porn-star - or so she looked. If she were human, I might have believed her to be hispanic; maybe Mexican. Someone with her looks probably should have been the pampered concubine of a billionaire drug-lord. But things were changing; unless I stopped them.

Her E-cup melons hung tantalizingly from her chest as she rose languidly to meet me. The juicy orbs bigger than my handspan dripped with sweat and tempting trails of lactation = and damnation, I knew. She tried the mesmerizing eyes trick; you know the one - where swirls of hypnotic color appear in her eyes, begging you to look closer ... closer ... until she had you ... until nothing seemed to matter but the softness of her warm, inviting womanflesh. The silken delight of her tanned skin, the pillowy splendour of her boobs.

Stupid.

"With tits like those; what man is gonna look you in the eye?" I joked to the woman-like creature. I raised my nozzle to attack, but she was faster! A hand clutching a ripe boob squeezed; sending a jet of tempting milk right to my face.

Smart.

Now that Ms. Mexican Pornstar had lactated on me, specifically my onion mask, that gave them the advantage. It was a 'damned if you do, damned if you don't' situation. Of course, any man that drank from her breasts would devolve into a mindless, rutting sex-fiend under her control, but removing my mask would eliminate my protection from her mating musks! Well, it was like choosing between certain death and a maybe-death. I had to act fast, there was really no option but to strip off my wet mask.

In the split second before her next attack, I could already feel the blazing tingle running up my spine, the pounding behind my ears, and the stiffening of my pants. Very soon I would be painfully erect. The pornstar went for my cock. She lunged low, hands reaching for my zipper, mouth open. The pheromones she exuded from her moist cunt were already making me sluggish, overcoming the adrenaline in my blood.

If she got my pants off ... if she got her kissable lips and her wet tongue around my penis ... it would be over.

But I'd been down this road before; and overcome worse odds. I dived; sliding backwards along the carpet as I fired the BT. She thrashed and growled. And I knew I had won.

This time.

But if I didn't end this mission quick, I'D be the one needing rescue! Without my mask, I had no defense against the overwhelming sexual attractant wafting up from between their shapely thighs. That was their real weapon: The fact that my enemies resembled politician-destroying call-girl seductresses only served to lure men close ... close enough for their sexual weapons to take effect.

And I was vulnerable.

End this fast! I prepared myself for the stairs, even as blood pounded in my ears. Kicking open the door to the stairwell, I threw in my back up wasp-cannister. I didn't see a lightswitch, but heard the jar crash distantly. Hmm ... the basement area was larger than I remembered; it might take a moment for the wasps to spread far enough to have the desired effect and...

There!

As I suspected, this was an established; breeding hive. I could tell that the three women ascending the stairs were hatchlings; none of them were over six-feet tall, yet each had breasts larger than her own head. Icy-blond nordic goddesses moaned hungrily at me. Their luscious skin still moist and glistening from the birthing. I could almost compare them to nineteen-year old Swedish supermodels obsessed with breast-enlargement surgery - except that no mere implant could produce such mammalian perfection. Each massive mammary swung and jiggled with bouncing perkiness, yet their size and proximity allowed for a mouth-watering cleavage even when nude. Young as they were, they couldn't yet simulate clothing. All they knew was a psychopathic hunger for sperm.

Newborns like this had to be hidden from public view; they couldn't flirt or seduce yet; only moan, lactate, and fuck. It would take several feedings before they could think and strategize; and I had just delivered up myself as the main course!

Below, at the base of the stairs was a green-eyed brunette with a swimmer's figure and a stripper's boobs. And she was pregnant. She grunted and rubbed her throbbing belly; young pulsing within her gravid body. I HAD to succeed; if a pregnant breeder escaped me; then the hive would bounce back from anything I might inflict.

I refused to let my resolve waver even as the wall of pheromones slammed into me. I sprayed, and sprayed the BT toxin. The enraged, parasitic wasps were circulating now, they should eventually neutralize anything I miss. My aim faltered as my cock surged with erect desire. There was a snapping sound within my pants ... damn! The elastic restraints I'd tied around myself had failed; my throbbing horse-dick was surging past my underwear, creating a massive tent.

Every bone in my body told me to strip naked and let nature take its course. My libido was like a great chain pulling upon me; rampant desire yanked at my will and resolve towards a soft prison of moistening pussies and milk-gorged breasts.

But I dared not let desire rule me!

So easy ... it would be so easy to just slump down the stairs ... down into the frantic embrace of the ice-blond, teenage, supermodel nymphomaniacs ... it would feel so good when they raped me for my sperm for the rest of the night. But it wouldn't end there...

It would never end!

I wouldn't be myself, wouldn't be a man anymore If I gave in! I grunted; bit my lip to allow the pain to blot-out the waves of lusty pheromones wafting from each willing pussy. And sprayed. Always spraying my weapon. I couldn't really aim it; my vision was blurry, my pulse was racing and my mind was consumed by fantastic erotic visions that could easily be more than fantasies! The basement was a concentrated hot-zone of mind-pickling sex-chemicals, but this staircase was the only way out; and I got them all. All of them; even the gravid brunette at the bottom. I roared and blasted them, even as my penis grew yet larger!

Soon, I had plastered my enemies with so much of the clear liquid toxin that I had to reload. I jumped back to close the basement door. Then I propped a nearby broom against the door from the other side, jamming it in such a way between wall and door that they would have to break the door to escape. That should give enough time for wasps and poison to work.

I saw Jessie heading back my way, shaking her spray-weapon.

"I'm out!"

My dick was still throbbing in my pants, and I fought the urge to drag her to the ground and ravish her trim body.

"Penis-count?" I asked instead.

"Three!" She bent her pinkie finger with her thumb.

Only three! That meant there was still hope! I tossed my partner a spare cannister loaded with BT, and headed for the bedroom. "Do a once-over!" I ordered; without really needing to. Jessie and I have been at this long enough that she knew to sweep the house, catching all the fallen with an extra BT dose, just in case some where faking, or had received a less than optimal dose.

But the house had seen some additions since I was last here; as a young kid. A new room had been added to the house, and I could see some architectural differences along the wall in front of me, and also in the new door in this hallway leading to the bedroom. I kicked in the new door.

The marble tiles and frothing jacuzzi were distractions to the room's true purpose. Within the foamy, churning water was a busty brunette with violet eyes jiggling her own cavernous cleavage while tearing through a hot-pink, sheer tank-top that her breasts might seem to burst forwards in the direction of a small, tripod mounted camera. There was additional thrashing as though someone still underwater was caressing or massaging the violet-eyed babealicious wonder. Also, a delicious, nude blond with one blue eye and one green was laying outside the jacuzzi, on the tiled floor, spreading soapy foam over her naked private parts in order to tease and tittilate another camera off to the left. Her legs were remarkably sculpted and toned; a runner's legs with childbearing hips, and a porno-stripper's bountiful breasts each capable of holding a quart of milk. This was the media center. I saw a glass enclosure in the north wall with audio-video equipment. I sneered at the dripping, luscious women.