Amanda and the B.o.d.

Author's note:

This could "fit" into almost any category: sci-fi themed, with heavy elements of exhibitionism, attempted humor, some non-consent, and a host of others. Maybe even novella, clocking in at 12,000 words. IF YOU LIKE REALISTIC AND INTIMATE SEX, THIS IS NOT IT. Just warning those who care, before they invest too much time in it.

It's utter nonsense and scrambles all over the place, but I had fun writing it. There's an occasional, unmentioned "narrator" of sorts, and I'm hoping the style works out. Seriously, the world ruleset in this is hilariously stupid, to the point I almost never published it. I guess I might have no shame.

Anyway, It's been sitting around/cooking for a very long time (years), as I kept going back to it, finding it amusing. I hope it pleases some of you.

IMPORTANT WARNING:

This story has elements of physical and sexual assault, but in a John Waters kind of way.

It's meant to be over-the-top, and that extends to the "violence".

*****

Amanda and the Bureau of Orgasmic Defense

"Permission to show you my tits, sir?" shouted Lieutenant Lawson.

"Granted," responded Colonel James P. Till, rather bored from behind his desk.

Colonel Till had been a military man all his life. Born into it, he attended military schools and had years of elite physical and psychological training, as well as three tours of duty. He was recently tapped to head the Bureau of Orgasmic Defense. In his time, James Till had seen it all, and it came as no surprise to anyone that he was assigned this exhaustive task. One he didn't really want.

The B.O.D. was formed to combat the newest threat to human civilization, and only the finest and fittest women would serve in the field. Amanda Lawson was one such hopeful recruit, but she was one among thousands. She was, however, grateful she'd made it this far in the screening process, now presenting herself to Colonel Till, the director of the new agency.

Lieutenant Amanda Lawson had served in the Navy for almost a decade. Unlike Colonel Till, she came from nothing, an orphan at birth. Her journey, from infant to high school graduate, involved more than a dozen moves into various foster homes. At eighteen years of age, Amanda turned to the military for stability. Along the way, she discovered it was more than that. She became driven and motivated, and hoped to achieve the highest ranks in the Navy. Admiral, no less.

Colonel James P. Till, on the other hand, was destined to become a General, if only for his family heritage. He was experienced and capable, no doubt, but he had long lost the flames of motivation and duty. Colonel Till wanted to retire and play golf for the rest of his life, but in order to honor the family name, he had to wait until he achieved the rank of General.

Amanda unsnapped the button from her blouse and opened it wide, pulling her ample breasts over her bra. "For your inspection, sir," she barked.

The Colonel peered over his glasses and took in the view for a brief moment. He sighed and glanced back down at some papers in his hand. "Lieutenant Amanda Lawson, is it? It says here you weigh 128 pounds, at five-foot-seven. We like seeing those numbers. One needs mass, strength and size to do what you'll be doing. But we expect that weight from muscles... not - well, to be blunt - your tits. You are much heavier up top than any recruit I've seen."

Amanda dressed down so others didn't know she possessed such a sexy, curvy figure. Until recently, she was modest by nature, but times were different. Sacrifices had to be made. "With all respect, sir, I'm only a D cup."

"Yeah, that's big. Physically fit women don't typically have breasts so large. Not natural ones, anyway, and yours look quite... amazing." His voice almost drifted off. "It says here you were a Seal?"

"That's correct. One of the few women to make it through the program."

"Again, I must be brash, Lieutenant, but women who go through that program get exceptionally fit. Whatever breasts they once had, were practically gone by the time they finished training. Almost no body fat."

Amanda interrupted. "Colonel, allow me to show you the rest. You think by having a chest this large, that I might be flabby or unfit for service?"

The Colonel hesitantly nodded, as he leaned back in his chair. "That's what I'm getting at," he muttered under his breath. Outside of the file he had on Amanda, he knew nothing of her. She was just another number in the machine.

The B.O.D.'s recruitment program was a selective process that filtered up. Thousands of women were tested on their physical qualifications by instructors, and their beauty was judged by separate panels of six men and women. After grueling testing and observation, if a recruit doesn't get kicked out, she eventually goes to Colonel Till for final approval. Most of the candidates don't get far in the process.

And most would agree, that the ones who do make it to Till's scrutinizing eyes, could be considered elite in both fitness and beauty. He still failed almost half of them for not being "good enough" and those he passed went onto the training program, to become official agents. In short time, they would be out in the field. That's why it was critical to get recruits who were already in peak physical health, at the top of their game.

For the past two months, Till had done nothing but screen candidates in this selective process, interviewing girl after girl. "Aren't auditions over yet?" he often asked his assistant. He was ready to move on to other things. Fortunately, the interviews were nearing the end, and Amanda was one of the last to be screened.

Never had someone with a figure like hers made it to the Colonel's desk. He was extremely skeptical Amanda would pass his assessment, as he had failed most of the C-cup candidates for being too flabby. (There weren't many of them, anyway). Till recognized that most who passed the testing requirements shared similar physical traits. Small and firm up top, but with solid frames, like athletic gymnasts. They were strong, but also pretty, which was the other requirement of the work.

As Amanda peeled off her blouse and bra, followed by her pants and boots, the colonel began to have new considerations. Her outfit hid her hourglass figure, no doubt, but it also hid her sharply defined muscles. As we already established, every woman Till interviewed was attractive, but Amanda was downright hot, with firm abs on a flat stomach, and tight, curvy hips, leading down to a small, yet muscular bum. She was completely shaven, too. The colonel realized Amanda hadn't been short-selling herself. Even her thighs and calves were composed of rock-hard muscle.

"You know, working for the Bureau, you'll be displaying that body a lot, in possibly the most embarrassing of circumstances. Can you do that?"

"Anything for my country," insisted Amanda, not allowing her nakedness to impede her poise, or her mission. "Let me do this, sir, please. I won't disappoint you."

"Okay, it's your funeral."

******

Like I said, the Bureau of Orgasmic Defense was created to combat the world's greatest threat. What hasn't been mentioned, is it came in the form of an alien parasite. Once inside a host, the parasite takes over the victim's brain, controlling the body, and it blends into society, staying in the family homes. They attend work, school and church, just like anyone else, but when opportunities arise, they attack new victims, beating them unconscious, and implanting another seed-parasite into the next host. This is where it gets weird.

Hosts are only female. The alien attacker (often referred to as the "host-parasite") strips its victim and scissors the unconscious victim, until the host-parasite achieves climax. Orgasmic juices are released into the victim and with it, a seed-parasite makes its way to the victim's brain, taking over. This is how they multiply, living among us.

A host-parasite will often attack using blunt force trauma, grabbing a lamp or some such tool in the room to render their victims unconscious. It is crude, but effective. On rare occasions, these attacks accidentally kill the victims, but if a host-parasite acts quickly, they can release their seed and infect the brain, before the body completely dies. The parasite effectively brings the body back to life, reanimating her, until the body naturally heals itself. Scientists said if it weren't such a threat to humanity, the parasite could be a key to immortality.

We think the source of the parasite came from a meteor that fell twenty miles south of Seattle. Within weeks, hundreds of women in the area were afflicted, serving as hosts to this alien creature. It was an 'Invasion of the Body Snatchers,' only more terrifying... because there's even worse news. They make men sterile.

Forever.

Once a man fucks a host-parasite, he can never orgasm again. It doesn't matter how hard he gets, or how horny he is, it will be impossible for him to cum. Our scientists haven't figured it out, but if we don't stop the problem soon, the parasite will kill our species off by attrition. We'll stop making babies.

There are several factors that led to us discovering this parasitic threat, and the spike in sterility in the Washington area was one of them. The confusing thing is, if a woman gets infected and becomes a host-parasite, she doesn't target men in her own home or place of work. Instead, they reserve their infertility seeds for strangers, making it more difficult for us to discover who they are.

Host-parasites tend to only target attractive women to serve as hosts. We believe this is because it is easier for pretty girls to pick up strangers for sex. Parasites will use their hosts to spark conversations, make new friends, and then lead them into a private room or dark alley to attack them. By now, the public has been well informed, and people are to be skeptical of all new acquaintances. Public service messages spread everywhere, on billboards, pamphlets, TV and radio messages, and it is always in the news and online. Still, humans are social animals, and the parasitic problem grows with each passing day.

As mentioned, host-parasites take measures to protect their identities, but they can be revealed. We finally discovered a way. You see, as the parasite problem grew, we discovered - only because it happened often enough - that these alien parasites cannot help but attack an attractive, naked woman when one is near. It appears to be an autonomous action for them, to try to multiply, an element of their nature.

We found it remarkable how host-parasites could live and work amongst us, without us knowing any the better, but if an attractive, nude woman happens to be nearby, they so easily reveal their natural instinct. This knowledge gave us a path to success in this war.

Before the creation of the B.O.D., the National Guard, and then the Army, stepped up to the plate, attempting to exterminate any known host-parasites. Unfortunately, this is where it gets weirder... and gruesome. Host-parasites can't die, not in the practical sense. A parasite spreads itself throughout every membrane of the human brain, so even if there is trauma to the brain, the parts remaining continue to fire off, leaving the subject alive and in agony. Only complete incineration guarantees a complete death. It is messy, and utterly terrible.

Imagine the number of PTSD cases, asking our military men and LEOs to end lives in such ways. Fortunately, we don't have to consider that option any longer. It was by virtue of one strange incident that we discovered a way to kill the parasite, without killing the host. And this is where it gets weirdest. It's almost too ridiculous to believe.

It is entirely possible, when attacked, for a potential victim to overpower a host-parasite. In fact, it occurs in about one percent of attacks now (the B.O.D. intended to increase that percentage considerably, with these recruits). The host-parasite is still human, after all - or rather, in a human body - and she can suffer a concussion and lose consciousness, just like anyone else. One such occurrence happened when a host-parasite attacked a particularly disturbed woman in a gym locker room.

The potential victim happened to be a female bodybuilder. The attacking host-parasite was knocked out, and the bodybuilder's subsequent actions revealed a way how to kill the parasite, a fascinating, accidental discovery.

The bodybuilder played a role reversal on the attacker, sexually assaulting her, instead. She went wild, grinding her pussy into the host-parasite's face, and eventually climaxed. "Take that, you bitch!" she screamed, over and again while cumming. From her testimony, the bodybuilder was angry, in shock, and upset. In her mind, this served as an excuse for her vulgar actions. The point is, those actions saved that woman's life, the woman who had been serving as host to the parasite. She came to, awake and freaking out, just as the bodybuilder finished climaxing all over her face.

The woman could remember everything. Absolutely everything. She recalled the night she was attacked, having her brain taken over by an alien parasite, and simply "watching in the background," as she described it. She witnessed her body attack other women, and fuck strange men, cursing them to never orgasm again.

Somehow, the orgasmic juices of the bodybuilder, when ingested directly her attacker, instantly killed the parasite in the host. At first, we thought it might be some viral thing the bodybuilder had, that was unique to her, but that was not the case. Any female orgasmic juices would do. Unfortunately, we discovered it has to be "fresh" juices - a major inconvenience - and it was the final straw that led to the creation of the Bureau of Orgasmic Defense.

Exposing host-parasites to pre-produced orgasm fluid did nothing. Synthetics did nothing. Male orgasmic juices did nothing. Some of the host-parasites may have coughed or sneezed from such efforts, but they were otherwise unaffected. Only fresh, female orgasmic fluid - applied directly to the mouth and skin of the host-parasite's face - killed the parasite, and reawakened the host. Again, it had scientists stumped, but it was the only thing we knew worked.

Politicians and the public acted swiftly to create an agency to deal with the problem. The Bureau of Orgasmic Defense was no secret organization. Its agents were to root out the problem in a direct way. The mission was to have all agents live and work among the public completely naked, and be sent to where there were suspected pockets of infestation. With their elite physical prowess and training, the B.O.D. agents would play the same reversal on their alien attackers as the bodybuilder had on hers.

It was a war without traditional weapons.

****

Colonel Till looked up from some papers on his desk and handed Amanda a folder. "Report to Sanders Hall tomorrow. You'll be meeting your instructors at 0800."

"Thank you, sir. I'm always glad to pursue more physical training."

"You'll be taking crash courses in jujitsu, boxing, street and cat fighting. I'll be blunt with you, like I have with everyone else, Miss Lawson. You'll also be training how to orgasm within a matter of seconds. We'll be changing your diet, as well, and possibly your medication."

"Seconds?" asked Amanda. 'How the fuck was that possible?' she thought.

"Miss Lawson, from what I understand, by the time you're through with training, you will be able to orgasm, almost at will, whenever you want, wherever you want. Extensive training, as I said."

Amanda hid it in her face, but now she was concerned. She always struggled to achieve orgasms, much less quickly. It was some sort of mental block. Amanda knew the training would desensitize her to being naked in public, and (let's get honest here) face-sitting women, but she had no idea they expected "at-will" orgasms. If she couldn't develop that skill, would they cut her from the program?

Amanda stayed quiet, and got dressed in front of the Colonel. She took her time, enjoying his eyes on her body. Now that he had approved her for training, the colonel seemed to be taking more joy out of her nakedness. She noticed he scanned her body over several times over, smacking his lips.

Just a few weeks ago, Amanda would never have been naked in front of a stranger, much too shy at the time. She broke herself of this modesty by practicing at home, first by staying naked inside, then getting more courageous and going briefly outside to retrieve the mail. She even left the curtains permanently open. A few days ago, she invited guests over for dinner while she remained naked around them. They all knew she had signed up for the B.O.D. program, so it wasn't like anyone was offended. Still, it took Amanda a great deal of effort to drop that shield of modesty.

Once Amanda finished dressing, the Colonel said, "You're dismissed. Congratulations."

"Thank you again, sir. It was a pleasure meeting you."

"You, too," he said. When she turned and left, he shook his head. "I think that poor girl is going to be overworked," he whispered. "Every parasite in a hundred miles of her will be after that woman."

***

Sarah Blankenship had never met such a difficult subject. Phil Heath, one physical instructor (and a CO), and Lilly Renault, the beauty consultant, had Amanda Lawson marked as their best recruit. The jujitsu expert and other fight coaches also had Amanda with top marks, but Sarah was having the opposite experience.

Sarah was the sex therapist, assigned to train all recruits in the art of the orgasm. Specifically, methods that generate orgasms within a matter of seconds. The idea was, when an agent is attacked by a host-parasite in the field, they are to subdue their opponent and orgasm on them (per B.O.D. standards) as quickly as possible.

With almost two weeks of training in, Amanda had yet to achieve an instant orgasm, and only once did she have an official one. That took over fifteen solid minutes of grinding. Sarah looked at the others and spoke. Amanda was at the end of the table, awaiting her fate, staying silent. "If Miss Lawson doesn't get this, it doesn't matter how good she is with anything else. She's fine with her movements and her kegels, but she just isn't getting the rest. I'm sorry, but she won't make an acceptable B.O.D. agent."

"That's too bad," said Phil, who is almost as muscular as Arnold during his peak. "Amanda is hands down the best female grappler I've ever seen. Hell, she gives me a run for my money. In this morning's drills, she had her ass in my face in less than ten seconds." He winked at Amanda, smiling, but she wasn't feeling very happy right now.

"We have one last idea," said Sarah.

"What's that?" asked Lilly Renault, "It would be such a shame for Amanda to not become an agent for the B.O.D. Sarah, she could be the face of this organization. She's that pretty." Lilly genuinely wanted her favorite student to make it.

"We can bring in a modified Hitachi," said Sarah. "It's the best idea I, and the team psychologist, came up with. We're going to force Amanda to experience orgasms... a bunch of them. We'll see if this breaks the mental or physical block she's experiencing."

"Will that work?" asked Phil.

"Nothing else has," sighed Sarah, pausing. "But hear me out, because we'll need Amanda's permission for this. This device is like blunt-force hacking an orgasm. One cannot prevent cumming, even if sex is the last thing on one's mind. It is, by no means, pleasurable in that sense. But if Amanda will allow, we'll see if this tool aids in solving the problem, or we have to consider the possibility of letting her go."

"Does Colonel Till know this?" asked one of the others in the group.