Invisible Hands On A Hard Body Ch 01

(Thanks to Jen Lit Girl for the edit.)

In hindsight, like all stupid ideas it seemed like a good one at the time; but then, so did the Tuskegee experiments. "If you could do it to poor niggers, spics, and retards you can do it to anyone," so the head of the Project said. Of course he was the type of person to say those things. He came from a long line of unrepentant, unreconstructed Klansmen. His father hung up the robes but kept the racism and his son sucked it up. Bigotry being no longer culturally approved, the man kept it hidden through West Point, MIT, NSA, and whatever secret project he headed for Uncle Sam at some point or another.

Uncle Sam knew exactly the kind of person they employed. The feds didn't care. He got results and he employed people who got results: doctors and scientists who copied ethics and morals from Nazi prison camp doctors and their Japanese counterparts. Unit 731 morals were ideals looked upon favorably in this project.

Non-consensual experimentation on African-Americans, Hispanics, mentally challenged and poor people was taboo these days. The Project Head, an old school eugenicist, cursed the fates that birthed him in the politically correct age. Even animals were off limits. Then a minion came up with an idea: sex offenders.

Who gave a fuck about sex offenders? Society's bogeymen, Law and Order's favorite villains, people clamor at the polls to get them out of the way. Easily disposable, especially in overcrowded prisons. The Project Head went for it.

The requirements were specific: unrepentant, incurable sociopaths who hadn't graduated to murder, weren't too violent, and weren't exactly bright. Child molesters and serial killers were in the queue as well. Facilities for them hadn't been made yet.

The governors quietly went along. They needed space in their prisons. The subjects were sold the usual bullshit: experimental cures for their disease, extra privileges, shortened prison time, opportunities to pay their debt to society. The prisoners swallowed it down along with the pills. When most of them woke up without the ability to speak, the doctors said it was a side effect. Actually the doctors cut their vocal cords. It wasn't that the doctors had consciences but screaming was distracting.

The experiments went well. Towards the end, a merry prankster mixed Viagra with the other pills. Ultimately, twenty prisoners survived and the Project Head could report invisibility was achievable. A new era of covert warfare was about to dawn but first, take the twenty to their shortened sentences which included fatal doses of morphine.

Infrared goggles were useful for herding. The whole matter was close to closure but hurricane Angie, blinding lightning flashes, power outages, clumsy guards, and mischievous hackers murphied everything up. When the smoke cleared, the twenty were gone...and everyone was in deep shit.

******

Kelli Rhodes smiled in her shower. The high school reunion had gone oh so well. "The looks on their faces...." she remembered savagely. Her ex had been there too and the look on his face was priceless. Kelli knew she'd be the talk of the old crowd for years. "Kilo Kelli no more," she smiled, with the satiation of revenge.

Kelli Rhodes had spent much of her thirty-four years fat. A chubby girl, she became a fat teen. The mean girls dubbed her "Kilo Kelli". Junior high and high school were hell but she had one bright spot: the boy who would become her husband. He was one of the geeks and a fellow outcast. Mutual solidarity brought the pair together and they married right out of college.

A few years into the marriage however, things started to come apart. Her husband turned out to be a late bloomer. A gym membership, a switch from eyeglasses to contacts, and increased confidence from workplace success brought out a handsome look, hidden in adolescence. It also brought forth previously undetected character flaws. Kelli meanwhile, grew fatter, frumpier, blotchier and her hair, lankier. Women started to notice her husband. Men and women ignored her. Worse towards the end, her husband did the same.

The final straw broke when her husband returned from work with divorce papers. He announced he was leaving her for a co-worker, the kind of woman who made their lives miserable as teens. The only good thing from the divorce was she got to keep the house, a grudging grace from her ex.

She stood before the living room mirror, twenty-eight years old, razor in hand, warm water running in the tub, going over the wreckage. A once loving husband who turned into one of them. A non-entity of a life with two hundred fifty pounds of fat and pasty white blotchy skin over a 5'6" frame. Why not just end it? Who would miss her? Not even her mother.

It was at that moment a goddess spoke to her. Oprah Winfrey, goddess of all media, giving one of her improve-your-life spiels on TV and wonder of wonders, it worked. Kelli looked at Oprah, looked at the razor, looked at herself, and threw the razor away in horror. She looked at herself again and just like that, she switched. Kelli the frump vanished and Kelli the pissed-off, betrayed and divorced fat girl was born. "Kilo Kelli, eh?! I'll fucking show 'em! I'll be so fuckable they'll rip their own cocks off to fuck me!"

Kelli got to work almost immediately. She went through the fridge and cupboards. Out went the fats, in came the vegetables. Health became her new religion. The gym, the jogging track, and the YWCA swimming pool, her new church. Spa treatments to remove body hair, skin treatments to get rid of the blotches, nude sunbaths to turn it to a permanent light tan. Visits to the hair salon to chop her locks into a short bobbed cut. Weightlifting, Pilates, stomach and thigh crunches, body sculpting, all embraced with religious devotion.

The change was tough at first but eventually diet and exercise became as routine as going to the bathroom. Her body wasn't the only thing she changed. She changed her sexual attitude as well. Sex manuals, lessons from sex workers, exotic dancers, even nude photo shoots broke her out of a strait jacket of sexual repression. She took a job as an artist's model to continue her transformation.

Six years later, Kelli was one hundred twenty-five pounds lighter, half her original weight with the toned body of a lioness and the predatory instincts of a panther. Her torso sported the sharpest abs put on a woman. With sculpted arms and legs, bubble ass cut and muscled, boobs c-cupped round and firm, she was a walking statue by Rodin. Her tight pussy ate lots of cock and God help the man who didn't perform. When her sixteenth high school reunion came, she was ready.

She bought the tightest form-fitting dress she could find, see through in all the right spots. She wore no underwear or bra, just sandals. She wanted no panty lines or bra straps to detract from her sleek, toned body. It worked better than she hoped.

No one recognized her at first, not even her ex. She got a few "You look familiars," and "Weren't you in such and such's class?" but she always answered with enigmatic smiles and cryptic statements. She made observations about former classmates, knowing their names, what they did in high school, that left them scratching their heads, some bemused, some embarrassed, some angry, "How did she know that? Who is she?"

The class reunion held a lottery draw. Her name was called, there were a few snickers. "Kilo Kelli?" she heard one of the old mean girls say, still mean sixteen years later. "Wonder how she turned out?" When she went to the podium however, the silence in the room was deafening. "Th-th-that's Kilo Kelli?!!" she heard someone whisper. The true prize was the stunned look on her ex's face.

The announcer's face wore the look of a twelve-year-old who's just seen his first nude Playmate. A popular boy back in the day, now a game show host, he looked like a used car salesman, below her new standards. She made sure he got a close look at her breasts, aureola peaking through the fabric, a glimpse of what he would never have, considering how he'd treated her in high school. The announcer made to congratulate her but only managed a faint squeak, "Uh, er..." before nervously grunting "Excuse me." He ran to the bathroom to obviously take care of an, "Impressive," she had to admit, lump in his pants.

She stepped from the podium, prize in hand. The men came running like a pack of slobbering dogs. She played with and discarded them one after the other, pointedly ignoring her ex, who ground his teeth in frustration. When the glass in his hand shattered, she barely suppressed a giggle. She noted with satisfaction that the woman for whom he had left, while pretty, had nothing on her.

Most of the men had ignored or brutally teased her as a teen. She returned the favor with relish, leaving a trail of emasculation in her wake. The poisonous looks she got from the former mean girl clique, a few who actually married well, a few others who let themselves go, was a feast she ate with a vengeance. Kelli left the reunion with a new name, bestowed by a geeky colleague known for practical jokes and a quick tongue, now a famous comedian, "Killer Kelli."

Now "Killer" Kelli was running warm water over the toned body she spent six years creating. She did it, she showed them.

So what happens next?

Going back to the old Kelli was out of the question; she liked what she had too much. She looked great, she felt great and she could have any man she wanted. Kelli didn't mind the maneater label. Her ex taught her an important lesson: cocks were not to be trusted. They were good for pleasure, nothing else. If her critical mother taught her one thing, the only person Kelli could rely on was Kelli.

Still, cock was on her mind at the moment. The memory of the reunion, all those men fawning over her, had left Kelli horny. She ran her hands across her 34C's, down her toned muscular waist, and around her sculpted hips. She took her fingers and plunged inward through her vulva. Her thoughts were of men, all men, faceless men, men she fucked and threw away, as she, herself was tossed aside. Rather than focus on one man, she put them together into a fantasy male.

She closed her eyes and let the warm water run over her body while she slid her fingers over her clit. The man approached behind her. A hand wrapped around her waist. A lip brushed against her neck, pressed down and suctioned. "Mmmm," she purred.

Fingers stroked her belly, circling her innie button. A tongue tickled her ear, she gasped and rippled her abs against his hands. Hands squeezed and massaged her breasts, nipples hardened to spear points. Fingers joined her own in plumbing her petal. She opened her legs, widened her pussy to let in more. She felt the man's groin against her ass, pubes rasped against her bare skin. His swollen shaft rubbed along her crack.

Kelli gasped, moaned, and grunted, lost in the fantasy of hands touching, stroking, pumping, and squeezing. Fingers stroked her to climax. "Aaaagh!" she cried. She squirted her cum into her hand. Her legs went weak. Gasping she reached out to steady herself against the wall. "God! That was good! I'm still feeling it. That's it, after the shower I'm going out to get some." It was several seconds after she came down before she noticed hands still stroked her body. "Huh?!"

First came confusion, then shock. At first Kelli thought she'd gone mad. Her breasts had imprints of fingers. They moved and pumped as a bellows. Fingers still plunged in and out of her pussy. She was wet in spite of her confusion. "Fuck?! I'm not dreaming! What's happening?!"

Kelli began to struggle and things took a left turn into the weird. Her arms were wrenched behind her back. She shrieked and kicked. Arms wrapped around her legs and spread them apart. "Aaaah!" she screamed. The mysterious pelvis ground into her ass. Her back and arms were crushed against a male chest. She felt hair against her shoulder blades, harsh breathing, almost a growl against her ear. She growled in response, outraged.

She felt fear but not the fear she would have felt as fat, frumpy "Kilo" Kelli. She spent the past six years exorcising that fear. She was Kelli Rhodes! How dare they do this to her! Damn it, she was going to fight! But the mysterious invisible bodies held her fast and spread. Much as she squirmed and struggled, in spite of her wet skin, she could not break free. Then the body holding her, bent backward and, with surprising strength, lifted her off the floor. Kelli was bent back with her legs spread and pussy exposed.

The sudden, quick actions of her mysterious assailants had distracted Kelli from noticing details within the shower. Water fell from the nozzles in a light drizzle. Kelli saw the water fall on some sort of shapes, albeit definitions were inexact. The shapes were more a glimmer, like clear glass, slightly distorting the gray-green tiles behind them.

Kelli had no idea how many were in the shower. It was a spacious walk-in, able to accommodate five. The shower door was open but Kelli wasn't thinking of how they got in. The very fact of their invisibility was too much a marvel to process. "Impossible!" she whispered, but couldn't deny the sight of the glimmering form kneeling between her spread legs.

Muscular arms spread her wide open. Unseen hands wrapped around her thighs. Her legs were lifted to invisible shoulders. Her crotch blurred slightly as a glimmering shape knelt over it. A mouth planted on her pussy, a tongue licked her clit. "Aahhrrr!" she howled, outraged. She squirmed and writhed, toned muscles rippling as water and sweat drizzled from her tanned skin. Her arms and legs slid against wet skin but stayed bound.

Kelli's flower opened as the wet tongue slithered inside and out. Her clit sent electric shock waves through her body, in response to the mouth sucking upon its flesh. Kelli's tunnel burst with fluid. "Uuunngh!" she moaned; outrage and arousal battled for control. Through the soft rush of water she heard breathing, some of it brief, regular hitches. "They're laughing," she realized.

Kelli grit her teeth, grunting and moaning as the blurred form slurped her pussy. Shuddering orgasms rocked her body. "Fuck!" she gasped, mortified her body would betray her this way. A squirt of cum leaped out of her cunt and down an invisible throat. Her pelvic and belly muscles flexed. Her toned body stood in far more detail than displayed at the reunion.

Kelli tired as orgasms sapped her energy. Apparently, she was not alone. The assailant holding her arms loosened his grip. It seemed a brief opportunity to attempt escape but her captors abruptly shifted positions.

The captor behind Kelli, lowered her body until her head and shoulders rested on the wet floor. Her upper arms were stretched above her head, wrists held in an iron grip. The result put her body, legs still spread over invisible shoulders, at a forty-five degree angle. Kelli viewed her body rising upward. Her breasts were bunched below her chin. Her belly and pelvis pumped like a bellows. Her body bobbed up and down in an erotic parody of Pilates. "Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!" she grunted with each crunch. Her teeth ground in frustration and outrage. Intrusive orgasms complicated her anger.

Soft noises drifted through the shower. Kelli's grunts were the only edged sounds. The soft hush of water flowing over her body, the heavy breathes of her captors, the faint "slurps!" of the invisible molester between her thighs, and the wet squelches of the others across the damp floor created an atmosphere of soft, moist orgy.

"Uck!...Uck!...Uck!" Kelli grunted. She looked around the shower. The falling water illuminated more shimmering forms, uncountable for their near invisibility, padding around the shower. She saw the bathroom door open and close through the open shower. "How many are there?" she wondered. "What are they? Ghosts? Aliens?" Kelli didn't believe in either. The house, when bought after her marriage, was brand new, built in an area with no known history other than its location near a military base. Ten years later, the area was still under development. That fact made Kelli shudder with horror. "Oh my God! I'm isolated!"

Kelli's house was located in a remote part of the neighborhood. Several families nearby had moved because of the mortgage crisis. Her relations with those remaining were cordial but few visited. Most were her ex's friends and her reputation as a maneater made the wives wary. Her invisible captors could do whatever they wished and no one would know for days, weeks if possible. "They could kill me and my body could be in this shower for months!" she realized. Kelli would move herself if not for the crisis.

Kelli looked up her body to her thighs. Semi-visible lips slurped across her groin, slightly blurring it. Her pussy opened red and pink to an unseen tongue gliding through her tunnel. A shimmer, as of water vapor rising from the ground on a hot day, rippled occasionally from her flower as cum squirted into an invisible mouth. "I'm trapped....and fucked."

Kelli went over her options. She could fight and try to escape. Six years of weight lifting left Kelli considerably stronger than her years as "Kilo Kelli" but her captors' grips were like vises, in spite of the wet bodies of all concerned. Plus she had no idea of their numbers, not just in the shower but the house itself. "Hell! They might be all over the neighborhood." Her struggles would only make them angry even though, other than holding her captive and sucking her cunt, they committed no other violence....so far.

Kelli decided however distasteful the option, letting them do whatever they wanted, short of killing her, was the only choice. "I can't see them, so I can't describe them. Maybe they'll let me live because of it. I can get DNA later....no wait! Fuck! That's why they're doing me in the shower!" she realized. Submission may be the only choice for survival but it galled her that the evidence would run down the drain. Her grunts and growls were as much from frustration as orgasm.

Kelli's boobs, bobbing and weaving with her quaking body, stopped moving. Impressions of fingers dented the soft flesh. Kelli grit her teeth and hissed. She watched invisible hands knead her boobs like Play-Doh. Her breasts changed and morphed from round melons to oval eggs and back again. Rose-colored tits plumped and flattened, alternating between spherical cones and round disks. Kelli's tits blurred as shimmering glass shapes settled over them. Unseen tongues licked and teased, invisible teeth nibbled and bit. "Ugh!...Ugh!...Aaargh!" she growled.

The cunt slurping ceased. A brief interlude occurred as the unseen cunnilinguist left her clit and another took his place. The reduced angle of her body told Kelli the man was shorter but his tongue plunged deep and long. He was not merely interested in her clit but her g-spot, confirmed as new floods of cum erupted from her cunny.

Slurps, smacks, and gulps joined Kelli's grunts as her juices were swallowed. Belly, pelvis, and pussy pumped cum into her new assailants mouth. "Uuuuunnnngh!" she moaned, loud and long. Hitching breaths in the shower confirmed the mirth of her invisible rapists.

The unseen mouths and hands left her boobs. Hands scooped under her waist and shoulder blades. The invisibles lifted her body while the cunt eater slurped away. Kelli struggled but arms wrapped around her body and the grip on her legs tightened. They held her quivering, gyrating body while the other assailant let go of her arms. Others took his place and held her arms outward.

Kelli floated seemingly in midair, held aloft by faintly shimmering forms. Her head was tilted back, water ran off her nude spreadeagled body. Her mouth was open, moaning. The invisible between her legs continued his pussy-eating. His mouth was soon joined by others.