|« PREV||INDEX||NEXT »|
New World Order, A
|Six months later, Sheila and Paula Martin walked down the beach in Jamaica, arm in arm with Kyle and Jeremy. Paul was all Voluxil Woman now, six foot tall, with fantastic legs and perfect pair 38 D tits. He looked ten years younger. The massive overdose of Voluxil D left him with no memory of his former life as a man and precious few smarts of any kind to work with now in his new life as a woman. For all the miracles of modern science, one thing they couldn't do was regenerate dead brain cells. Too bad. All she knew for sure was that she'd been Sheila's best friend and "associate" for as long as she could remember... and that she shared Sheila's taste in big tits and huge cocks.
Kyle and Jeremy were waylaid one hot morning in their hotel room by Paula.
She had engaged the two of them in another marathon fucking and sucking session. Paula had one cock slithering inside her stretched out pussy and another one in her tight ass. She was getting fucked hard, her tits were burning. She fumbled around on the nightstand and found a disgarded packet of Voluxil D. There was one pill left in the bent foil tray. Usually Sheila measured out Paula's daily doses for her, but Paula would sneak extras whenever Sheila wasn't looking.
"Take it, Paula... you deserve it...", Jeremy urged.
"Come... ONNnn, Paula... go for it. We won't tell Sheila", Kyle grunted as he slammed his cock into Paula's drooling pussy.
The two men thrashed Paula around like a rag doll. Her arms flailed around wildly and her tits rolled and bobbled about on her chest. She managed just barely to get the pill into her mouth along with a handful of her straight bleached-blonde hair. She swallowed the magic little pill down and dreamed of bigger titties. Whoppers like Sheila's.
Down at the pool, Sheila ordered a bloody mary.
She reclined on a lounge chair at poolside, conducting business by phone. A towel boy brought her a towel. Sheila sized up the half-naked muscleman. He was dressed in little else but a leather harness and a sort of thong, with a large silk pouch that held his cock and balls. The hotel's coat of arms were embroidered in gold thread upon a flap of dark velvet material that hung down over his pouch, like a loincloth. The guy was gigantic and covered in shiny black hair from head to toe.
"Towel ma'am?", the thick-headed servant asked in a deep baritone voice.
His eyes were trained respectively on her exposed cleavage.
"Thank you, boy. I will take a towel."
She reached out and brushed his pouch with her arm, taking the thick luxurious towel from his hand. Something about his voice sounded familiar.
She tore her eyes off the cumbersome equipment between his legs and looked up at this towel boy. It was her old boyfriend, John! She barely recognized him. Her heart almost jumped out of her chest. She turned off her phone.
"JOHN CRANE?!?! Is that you??"
The towel boy looked at the woman, confused. Sheila's dark brown skin glowed in the tropical sun. She pulled down her sunglasses and flashed her pearly whites at him. He recognized her in an instant.
Sheila Martin dialed up to her hotel room. Kyle answered the phone.
Her three wives were invited to the bar for drinks with Sheila and an old long lost friend. Kyle and Jeremy and Paula got dressed and hurried down to hotel bar as fast as they could, per Sheila's instructions.
"Paula, you remember me talking about my ex-boyfriend, John? LONG John?", Sheila asked.
Kyle and Jeremy threw each other elbows and tried not to laugh. They knew Sheila's history, knew who Long John was. They knew who Paul had been too... and who he was now. Just a girl with nothing on her mind who couldn't say no to a big fat cock, if it was put to her right. All she needed was an invitation.
Paula laid eyes on John and felt short of breath. He was a vision of raw male sex. Muscles on top of muscles, and a bulge in front of him that was positively huge. Se felt her pussy twitch and moisten. She felt his eyes on her body. Her face went flush.
"Um, of course Sheila. You've told me all about John." She lied.
Her mind was blank. She was terrible with names and stuff anyhow.
Paula offered her outstretched hand to John, who took it and kissed it warmly. Kyle and Jeremy stood on each side of Sheila, like bookends. Sheila entwined her arms with theirs as she looked on with amusement and affection.
She kept quiet while the two former men in her life exchanged an awkward series of nice-to-meet-you's, and you're-even-more-beautiful-than-Sheila-saids. Paula stroked her collarbone enticingly as she chatted with this beautiful stranger at the bar. Quietly Sheila left, sneaking away arm in arm with Kyle and Jeremy. The three left comely Paula Martin at the bar to fend for herself.
"So you and Sheila used to date?", Paula asked.
"Yep. For three years. I really blew it with her. Couldn't handle the stuff in them days..." he said, shooting an eye down at his crotch.
"But I've got it under control now. I could never do this job if I didn't."
"How big is it?", Paula asked brazenly.
Did I just ask him that? My god, girl... control yourself, she thought.
Paula had never been with anyone other than Kyle and Jeremy... and Sheila. This was her first foray into the world of Other Men, as far as she could remember anyhow.
"Ah... why don't you tell me a little bit about YOUR self, ma'am?"
John Crane threw his thick arm around the back of Paula's bar stool.
He breathed on her neck. Her exposed cleavage got gooseflesh and her nipples stiffened.
"And then I'll give you three guesses how big it is."
Paula giggled and took a sip of her Sprite. John put his huge hand on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. She was too nervous to speak!
"Sheila tells me you don't have a boyfriend."
He brushed her long hair with his fingers. Paula shifted in her seat, tugging at her tight dress which was creeping up almost to her crotch.
"No, I don't have a boyfriend... right now...", Paula felt embarrassed and thrilled.
"I can't believe a beautiful woman like you doesn't have a boyfriend somewhere."
Paula put her hand on John's massive leg. He flexed his muscles and made them jump. Paula jerked her hand away in surprise.
"Oooh! Oh, John... you're so strong", she said as she put her hand back on his leg and squeezed. She let her fingers stray, tracing her long red enameled nails along the hem of John's loincloth.
"Well, ma'am... I can honestly say, that's not ALL Promade."
John Crane removed a yellowed photograph from a pocket on his harness and showed it to Paula. She held it down in front of her exposed chest and looked at it. John ogled Paula's heaving bosom and put his hand on her tiny waist.
"That was me three years ago, before all this Promade stuff. And that's Sheila, before Voluxil obviously."
Paula looked at the picture closely. It was John and Sheila standing at somebody's back yard barbeque. Sheila looked tiny, like a young girl. No tits. Paula couldn't believe Sheila ever looked like that. John looked very similar to the way he looked currently, but with less body hair. He was well-developed, handsome, with an... extremely intelligent look in his eyes.
Smart men were so hard to come by, she thought, mimicking the words she'd heard Sheila utter so many times before. In the photoraph John was wearing tight white shorts. Sheila was jamming her hands in his pockets. He and Sheila were both laughing and happy in the picture. It made Paula feel... jealous? She could tell John must've huge to begin with. She noticed John's loincloth moving under the bar. She looked around and realized for the first time that Sheila and the guys had left her along with John. She let her hand slip underneath the flap of fabric and she touched his package tentatively.
He was hard. He was huge. He spread his legs and let his balls plunk down onto the cool vinyl of the barstool. Paula poked them gently. They were bigger than grapefruit.
"Can we go to your room, John?", Paula pleaded, gulping down short little breaths.
Paula's chest heaved, her perfume rose up in heavy wafts and filled John Crane's senses. He wanted to bury his face in her soft inviting cleavage right there at the bar. He didn't dare let his boss see him do THAT. He put his arm around Paula and helped her down from her stool. Paula wobbled on her stilletto heels. Her legs weren't steady. One of her boobs nearly flopped out of her tight sun dress. John held her up and steadied her. She threw her arms around him and pressed her tits against his stomach.
She kissed him on the mouth, probing him with her tongue.
"I wanna fuck you...", she whispered sloppily in his ear.
She acted like she was drunk. She always got this way when she was sexually aroused, it was left over neurological conditioning from all the Promade that had left grooves in Paul's greymatter over the years. Now he was a big-titted bimbo with no self-control. Intoxicated by his own scent, he was a prisoner inside a this hypersensitive woman's body.
Sheila watched over him and took good care of him these days. He could no longer function on his own and was reliant on Sheila completely. And she was protective of him. She felt responsible for his well-being, and part of that was making sure "Paula" got all the Voluxil and all the cock she could handle.
Paula yanked on the hem of her skirt. Damn that thing was short. She pulled it down over her round ass and down in the front. She could feel her pussy was wet. In the elevator she fixed her lipstick in her compact mirror.
She dug around and found a loose Voluxil pill in the bottom of her purse.
She popped it in her mouth. It was her third dose in the last hour. Then she dropped her purse onto the floor and wrapped a shapely leg around John and grinded herself against his knee. She put two hands up to the sides of his bulky package and smoothed her palms over it through the slippery silk fabric. John groaned as blood rushed into his cock. She placed hand partly around his trunk and felt his massive pulse. Ka-thump. Ka-thump. Ka-thump.
She tugged on the drawstring holding John's garment in place. He felt the string loosen and felt his cock surge forth, pulling at it. He grabbed Paula's dainty wrists and stopped her. The doors opened and John hurried Paula to a room down the hall. It was Sheila's suite. She had given John her key and told him to give Paula the fucking of her life. It was the least he could do for being such a total ass to Sheila all those years ago.
Sheila would get her own turn with him after she took him as her fourth wife and moved him back to the states to live in comfort with her and the others. She'd be reunited with his majestic cock and Kyle and Jeremy and Paula would be there to help out with it.
Paula didn't care where she was or who she had been.
She dropped to her knees and yanked on John's silk uniform, untying the drawstring. The fabric loosened up and John's monstrous cock jumped free of it. It glanced off of Paula's shoulder, pushing her aside. She gasped at the sight. It was the biggest thing she'd ever seen.
"THAT'S how big it is, darlin", John said proudly.
"How... how ....long is it?" Paula put her hands on it and caressed it.
She lifted it up and laid it against John's strong chest. It came up almost to his shoulders.
"Eighteen inches long ma'am. Ten pounds, six ounces. One foot in circumference. Stop me if I'm boring ya..." he quipped.
Paula was mesmerized. She traced her fingernail around the huge tip and smiled when a glob of pre-cum oozed forth. She wanted to have this man's baby. Why did she think that? She wanted him inside her, pumping his seed deep into her womb. Strange thoughts perhaps, but Paula's Voluxilized female body had to fill in the blanks in Paul Morton's blanked out mind these days.
Paula in fact was scarcely able to grasp ideas that didn't relate somehow to her body, or Voluxil, or sex. Sheila had to teach Paula many things after that lethal overdose of Voluxil-D, even basic things that any child knows.
She even had to teach her the joys of clothes shopping and putting on makeup and fussing with her hair. By now she'd discovered the connection between these activities and sex and she'd come to enjoy them as much or more so than any teenage girl ever did.
John picked Paula up and laid her out on the bed. Paula wriggled out of her tight dress and kicked her panties off. Her cunt was exposed, her thick bush sopping wet with her own juices. She splayed her fingers and spread open her lips. John Crane moistened his cock with his own fluids and aimed his fist sized head at her opening. Paula gasped as she felt John force the head of his cock into her. It hurt but she wanted him anyhow. Her pussy stretched wide to accommodate him. John grabbed Paula's ankles and lifted her legs up over her shoulders as he clenched his buttocks and drove his member into her pussy. Paula whimpered quietly and fought for her breaths. She'd never been filled up like this... it felt good.
"You LIKE that, honey?" John asked.
He forced as much of his meat into Paula's straining cunt as he could, just as Sheila had told him to.
"OOH, GOD.... OWW..... oh yes.... Yess..... more... I want more..."
She spread her legs and angled her wide hips up to tuck more of John into her body. John leaned into her and forced another inch in. Paula tensed up slightly, her pussy squeezed John's cock. It slipped back out of her in one thick foot long slurp. She felt her pussy close in behind it as it escaped her body, leaving her feeling hollow and empty .
"Oh John. Put it back in. Fuck me, pleeeease..."
That was a word he'd not heard from a woman in a long long time.
|« PREV||INDEX||NEXT »|
This collection was originally created as a compressed archive for personal offline viewing
and is not intended to be hosted online or presented in any commercial context.
Any webmaster choosing to host or mirror this archive online
does so at their sole discretion.
Archive Version 070326