Happy Anniversary 41

"I'm heading off to work! See you later, honey!"

Sarah giggled at her girlfriend. "Bye, hon! I'll have a special surprise waiting for you when you get back!"

She blew a kiss at the departing brunette, clad in pencil skirt and suit jacket, off to a busy day at the office. Today was their anniversary, and true to her word, Sarah had something planned for Hannah's return. Hannah would be back at around 6:00 PM, and it was 8:00 AM right now, so she had plenty of time to get ready. She'd start at 5:00 and be done by 5:30.

Sarah spent all the rest of the day on the couch, watching TV. She was supposed to be looking for a new job, but she wasn't trying very hard. She hadn't had a job since she got fired from 7/11 a few months back. Hannah said that she earned more than enough to keep both of them fed and housed, and she hated her old job anyway, so it wasn't all bad. Hannah didn't mind paying for her beloved girlfriend, and in turn, Sarah didn't mind being a bit of a stay-at-home wife. They say that opposites attract, and at least in this case, that was true; nothing could have been more different than the two women's work ethic. Sarah just felt lucky she was good looking enough to have someone who'd put up with her slobbish behavior.

There was nothing good on TV, but that wasn't ever the point of watching TV. The programming was forgettable dull-as-rocks rerun trite. One of the channels had some kind of cake baking show on it. She half considered baking a cake for her and Hannah to share, once she got back, but she wasn't any good at cooking. No - despite it being abundantly clear who "the man" was in the relationship, Sarah had just never bothered to get very good at making anything more complicated than instant Mac and Cheese, or on very special occasions, cake from pre-mixed cake powder, out of a box. But she didn't have any cake mix lying around right now, and she didn't feel like walking to the store to get some.

She decided to flip over to the news while she was having her lunch - buttered toast.

The whole zombie apocalypse thing had been exciting front page news when it had started, but over time, it was easy to get used to it as "the new normal", and gradually, the novelty faded. Now it was just another news story among others. Important, for sure, but there was only so much of a news story one could possibly take before becoming sick of it. According to the reporter on the screen, there had been some kind of outbreak behind the defensive lines, and several areas were compromised. This happened every other week, so who gave a damn? The news correspondent finished by reiterating that the government was fully in control, and that interim President Harris - who had taken over after the death of the former President - was doing everything she could to prevent further casualties.

Sarah was only half-listening. It was good to be informed, she thought. Something was going on in the world. She was up to date on current events. This was all very, very boring, though - so she changed the channel to some TV drama, the kind they make too many damn episodes of. Some stupid thing set in a hospital, where every week some huge twist would play out where one of the characters was pregnant, or cheating on their girlfriend, or broke up with their girlfriend for cheating on them, or was pregnant with someone else's child, leading them to break up with... well, you get the picture. Thanks to production difficulties arising from the ongoing apocalypse, the quality had noticeably declined, with the writing seeming even more rushed and off-the-cuff than before, and the acting becoming even worse. Production mistakes were simply left in, cuts were a lot cruder and worse-timed, and they mostly spent the runtime talking on a single set. The desperation was clear, and resources were obviously stretched paper-thin - but the show must go on.

Watching the hackneyed scenes play out, her mind began to wander. She thought about the news broadcast she had seen earlier: The zombies, green-skinned and half-nude - many totally naked - shuffling down the streets and alleys, assimilating all in their way. The fact that they had been shown to be practically immortal, being merely stunned by even powerful automatic weaponry, only truly dying to an utterly catastrophic injury, on the level of being blown to shreds. Even a bullet in the head was of little consequence. After only a few hours passed, a "dead" zombie would regenerate its wounds, and go right back to whatever it was doing before, not even a little bit stupider than it was before. Not that they were ever particularly smart, but having a hole shot through their brain didn't seem to affect that one bit. Though the government had nothing but optimism, truth be told, the zombie horde only advanced on formerly "safe" territories more and more by the day. Perhaps before long, they'd be

here.

Sarah paused. The idea didn't scare her as much as she thought it might. Shouldn't it scare her? Well, maybe if the zombies were the type you'd see in movies, where they tore you apart and ate your brains. But the outbreak she was caught up in the midst of was a sex zombie apocalypse. If they got you, you'd become one of them, and you'd be cursed to a lifetime of mindless lesbian sex. It didn't seem like much of a curse to her! Indeed, she'd read online - and perhaps in one or two half-remembered special broadcast documentaries on the news - that some people thought they were better off just offering themselves to the horde on their own terms, wandering deep into infested territory to find someone to turn them. She thought about it for a second. She imagined herself shuffling, naked, down a city street, skin a deathly grey-green. Her body was totally naked, her bare feet treading on the rocks and dirt without a care, her zombified body matted with the remnants of orgies past. Her eyes were blank, and her mouth hung slack and unconcerned, a sliver of drool dripping down its corner. She marched with a million other zombies towards a camp full of humans, ripe for the taking...

A small wet patch appeared between her legs. She was enjoying this fantasy.

...And at the gate of the camp, with a machete in hand, was Hannah, her long brown hair done up into a ponytail, body slick with sweat, wearing shorts and a tank top. She was ready to face the horde, and by the looks of it, this veteran survivor would have no issue defeating any number of vicious undead. For her, for such a strong, capable woman, there could be no amount of zombies that would faze her. She could - and would - take on the entire world, and come out unscathed. But then - oh, the delicious tragedy of it - then she saw Sarah, in the horde. Her girlfriend, who had been infected long ago... As if by coincidence, here again. Oh, how Hannah had missed her all these long months! Any number of survivors would so gladly have her, this prize of a woman, but she remained chaste, for her fidelity was still with Sarah, despite having lost her so long ago. Waiting, perhaps, for a moment like this. And her love was so great and total that she dropped the blade, and threw herself into the crowd - and she let Sarah ravish her, take her body...

Sarah's hands had found themselves inside her pants now, massaging her wet folds.

...And the skin on Hannah's body would change! Greying, to match hers. She'd slowly start to become a zombie, just like Sarah was. And they would kiss, and her eyes with lock with Hannah's, and Hannah would tell her, "I love you" as the change completed in her body and she came her brains out and she became just like her and she was such a good zombie, so obedient and strong, and they were together forever and ever and ever just fucking and sucking-

Sarah came in her pants.

She spent a minute or two just enjoying the afterglow. She took her fingers out from her crotch and sniffed them. An intrusive thought entered her head - what if she did just volunteer? Just stripped off and walked into the horde right now, and became just like the zombie version of herself in her imagination...

No - the fantasy that played out in her head was just a fantasy. If she was going to go, she'd go with Hannah, and that was a whole conversation of its own. Maybe later? Eh - it seemed like the sort of topic that would really upset her. She didn't seem like the type to do it, and if she wasn't the type to do it then neither would Sarah be. She shouldn't even be thinking about something like that - it was like being a traitor to mankind. She shelved this thought, this sinful desire to betray her species, and took a glance at the digital clock on her phone. 4:54; it was about time to start getting ready.

She tossed her soiled panties and pants into the laundry hamper, not bothering to change into anything in a hurry. She would have had to take it off anyway.

The couple kept their "special fun time gear" in a plastic box under the bed. Inside were the tools she'd be using on herself - leather bindings and straps. First, she had to change into more romantic attire - a lacy corset, fishnet stockings, matching crotchless panties, frilly choker, and blindfold - not on her eyes just yet, of course, since there was still work to be done. She looked in the mirror - and the perfect model of a subbe looked back.

With all of these donned, she began the process of strapping herself, spread eagle, on to the bedposts. She began with her feet, slipping on the ankle cuffs and securing them to the posts. Then, she did her left arm, slipped her blindfold onto her eyes so that she could no longer see anything, and did up her right arm. In case anything happened, her phone was within reach, so she could call for someone to come and pick her up - just in case. Once her right arm strap was bound up, she wouldn't be able to escape on her own - that was what made it fun, obviously. Now she just waited in anticipation for Hannah to return - it wouldn't be long now.

The anticipation was all part of the game. Ready to be taken, Sarah lay there in blissful agony, pussy already dripping with an unsatisfiable need. She struggled a little from time to time, playfully testing her binds as if her arousal was too much to allow her to do anything other than desperately try to rub herself. It wouldn't be long now, she was sure. Every minute that went by was like an hour; with her eyesight robbed from her, she felt like she was practically stewing in her own juices, boiling in her body heat as she waited for the clock to tick down.

And eventually, she heard the door burst open, and she knew that her torturous deprivation was coming to an end.

Pussy. That was all the newlydead zombie knew. She needed it. Her own ached with desire - dripped its infection down her thighs and on to the ground, as she walked. She was missing one of her black dress shoes, and the one that was remaining clung to her toes from its strap, dragged behind her foot. Her sheer pantyhose were torn in the crotch, and she had conveniently chosen not to wear panties that day, which made her conversion all that bit easier. Her suit jacket, and the shirt underneath, had been ripped open, revealing a sizable pair of green-grey breasts. Her slack-jawed face was slick with foreign liquids, the cool mucus a souvenir of her enjoyable transformation. Her eyes, once a bright and colorful hazel, were now glazed and white. Finally, her brown hair was loose from her bobble, and spilled down her neck and shoulders crudely.

Very little went through the zombified woman's mind. The cortices of her brain had been degenerated by the infection, broken down to the point of uselessness, literally liquified to serve the needs of the parasitic microorganism which had taken over her body. The vestiges of her intelligence were now situated in her brain stem, which had been reconfigured to crudely manage her body. Her organs had totally shut down, and her heart no longer beat. Each muscle, infested with the parasites, moved according to an inscrutable and scientifically impossible source of energy, which they provided. Inside her body were a trillion microscopic factories, producing more and more of the invisible parasite - to be shared with as many people as possible.

From her vagina dripped copious quantities of arousal, driven to maximum level. Within each drop of the liquid, which had totally soaked the inner thighs of her tights, was enough of the viral parasite to precipitate somebody's total transformation. Each of her bodily fluids - her saliva, her sweat, her breast milk, and as mentioned, her vaginal lubricant - had become a fine-tuned infection delivery system. Every zombie was a walking horde unto itself, quite capable of turning thousands of humans by themselves.

First introduced to zombie cunt at her office, where she had found herself suddenly surrounded by her recently turned coworkers, she was forced to endure a ravishing the likes of which she had never experienced before. She had never felt anything so wonderful and grand, stimulated by a half-dozen other infected as her entire world became a grey, juicy slit, and the pleasure between her legs crescendoed into a permanent, mindless bliss, and her mind faded away to the intoxicating flavor of undead pussy. There, her brain was annihilated, and Hannah ceased to be, replaced by an undead husk. The bodies of her fellow sisters were divine, and she now shared in their divinity. Yet... she craved something different. Something more alive. Uninfected, human pussy. The last squirt of a woman in the process of turning... nothing could be more delicious.

Pussy. She knew where to find one. How, she didn't quite know. But she knew that waiting for her would be a prime cut of meat, the choicest there was. Her instincts pulled her towards a familiar front door. With the muscle memory of a routine repeated daily for years, she turned the door handle and opened it, and she entered.

Pussy. The smell of it entered her nostrils. She was right to have followed the memory of cunt - she would dine on an excellently succulent meal tonight. The heady aroma drew the zombified woman up the stairs, and towards a familiar room, whose door was already wide open. Within, she was presented with the object of her instinctual, guttural urges. A pair of soles clad in tasteful fishnets, a pair of slender legs, between which was a delectable, alluring, beautiful-

Pussy.

"Hannah... I'm all yours, Hannah... I'm your little morsel... come eat me up..."

Hm. Something was off. Hannah would usually say something at this point. Could it be that a burglar had broken in - and she was about to be violated by a stranger...?

A wave of aroma hit Sarah's nose, and she was reassured by the familiar smell of her girlfriend. The familiar musk of her vagina was one she knew

very

well. So it was her after all. Except... she couldn't quite put her finger on it. Something about her was...

"Ahh~!"

She felt a cool tongue enter her slit, dispelling her rogue thoughts. True, she never did a whole lot more thinking than was strictly necessary, but sexy time was the time when she could simply let her mind go blank and enjoy simple, animal pleasures. Her girlfriend was eating her out, just as she was hoping for for the past hour. What more did she need? No - no need to overthink it.

And this time - this time was the best yet! She couldn't pin down the difference, the specific thing that had changed, but receiving head didn't usually feel this good! Hannah definitely seemed... colder? Than usual? She had just been out in the cold for a while, so it wasn't entirely out of the ordinary, right? No, she definitely felt way too cold to be normal. But- the feeling lapping at her cunt was simply out of this world. Lap after lap, probing into her folds, sent sparks flying down into her brain. It was just a better fuck than she had ever had before! The technique she was using was definitely different to normal as well, more animalistic and wild, instinctive. Feral. Whatever was different about Hannah today, it was clearly a good change, and Sarah hoped that it wasn't a fluke. She could really get used to fucking like this!

"I'm so close, honey... keep going... Oh... I love you... You're gonna... You're gonna have to tell me what's gotten into you tonight! Mmm~" she shook against her bindings for effect, pulling as hard as she could, rattling the bed frame, "You need to teach me how to do this... Mmm... Feels so good..."

Suddenly, the cunnilingus stopped. Sarah gave a small whine, wriggling her hips and struggling against the bindings a little. "Wh.. why did you stop? Keep going..."

And then, she realized that Hannah was climbing on top of her, and that the fun was going to continue after all.

"Honey, are you-MMH!"

A cool set of butt cheeks pressed down on Sarah's face, and a wetness began to dribble down on her lips. Clumsy and crude, she stuck out her tongue so as to help please the woman on top of her, probing around a little to find her lower lips.

Hannah had definitely changed, somehow. For one thing, her slit was unusually cold, and for another, the flavor of her girlcum was definitely not what she remembered. Had it been that long since they last had sex? In any case, the familiar notes were still there, so it was definitely her. Actually, it wasn't bad - whatever had happened to Hannah was certainly a positive, at least for their bedroom life! Finding the right spot, Sarah began to lick in earnest, teasing and lapping, getting nice and familiar with her girlfriend's new flavor and eliciting an unusual purr from her, an animal-like growl. Sarah wondered where she had learned to act like this, how she became so much better at sex overnight. She'd have to ask Hannah for the details afterwards, so she could be just like her.

The sensation between Sarah's legs now resumed. The two women, entangled, ate each other out, each pleasuring the other.

Sarah felt like she was going numb. Not in her vagina - if anything, she felt like it was unusually sensitive - but the rest of her body felt a little cold, like she had sat on her leg for too long. Perhaps the bindings were cutting off circulation - still, an hour or so shouldn't be enough to cause permanent damage. What's weird is that it was spreading up her body - her torso - in a way that didn't make total sense, if it really was just her blood circulation. Whatever, there was time for that later. She could feel her orgasm approaching, and she decided to simply focus on this, the pair of pussies each burning with imminent release, merging into one. The cold flesh above her melted into hers, sapping her raging body heat, and all else in the world dissolved into the joyous bliss of sex. All of this pleasure made it hard, so very hard, for Sarah to think straight. Words had trouble coming to the tip of her tongue; thoughts got lost before they could be completed. Despite her best efforts, it was like she was half-asleep, even in the middle of sex.

Hannah thrashed, her hips bucking and pressing into her as hard as they could, wildly rubbing up against her face, and from this animalistic movement, dislodged Sarah's blindfold, allowing her to see again.

Finally, she could see the green ass she had been eating out. It was Hannah, and she was green. A spear of panic plunged through Sarah, and her heart sank, realizing that she had been having sex with a zombie this entire time - Hannah had been turned! Hannah had been a zombie this whole time! That was bad! Right? No... she was pretty sure that it was actually a good thing. Wasn't it? She was having great trouble maintaining a train of thought - zombies were hot. Hannah had only become hotter, now that she had been zombified. Sarah is going to have a beautiful zombie girlfriend! And that's a good thing. So there was really no need to panic. In fact, just keep eating her pussy. You wouldn't want her to think you were disrespecting her new lifestyle choice, would you? Yes. All was well. She should just enjoy herself. She should pay no attention to the creeping feeling in her skull.