Transformations Return To Sinful Suburbia Ch 02

Comments welcome!

*****

Zoe Carmichael walked into the Ladies Auxiliary meeting and smiled. She'd only been in town two days, and she was already making friends. Her next-door neighbor, Leslie Durham, the minister's wife, had stopped by right after the movers left with an apple pie and an invitation.

Zoe was a single mother and her nineteen-year-old son, Sean, was completely infatuated with the smiling, blue-eyed minister's wife. He had practically fallen all over himself when she had asked if he wanted to make some extra money mowing the lawn at her house.

The meeting hall was filled with women Zoe's age - she hadn't even asked Leslie what the Ladies Auxiliary was. Looking around, she wished she had at least asked what to wear.

She felt horribly underdressed in the auditorium full of women wearing short dresses and skirts, makeup and hair done just so.

In her jeans and blouse, she felt like a frump.

A smiling brunette walked toward her through the crowd. She wore a dress made from what looked like red leather. She held out her hand. "Margaret Cox," she said.

"I'm Zoe..."

"Yes, I know. Leslie told me all about you," the woman said. Her lips were exactly the same shade of deep red as her dress.

Margaret Cox's eyes were a brilliant blue.

They almost glowed.

Zoe felt lightheaded. She squeezed her eyes shut. "Where is Leslie?"

"Oh, she's at home. She couldn't make it today." Margaret took her hand and led her to a seat near the front.

"This group? The Ladies Auxiliary? What is it the Auxiliary of exactly?" Zoe asked as she sat down beside the leggy brunette.

Margaret smiled. "Oh, we're a religious organization."

"Really? You mean Baptists like Leslie."

"Umm, not exactly."

Zoe realized she was staring at the woman's very full breasts. She looked up quickly and found herself staring into the blue eyes.

Something wasn't quite right. Zoe tore her eyes away from Margaret Cox and looked around the room.

Everybody seemed to be staring at her.

Staring at her with blue eyes.

"Wait..."

All of the women had the same piercing blue eyes as Margaret.

And, they were all tall with long legs and full breasts.

Zoe jumped when Margaret put her hand on the side of her face. She stared directly into Margaret's eyes.

"You're not afraid. Everything is fine. Just relax," Margaret said.

Zoe felt warm. She relaxed in the seat and smiled.

The women in the seats around her were all leaning closer to her.

Margaret whispered, "We're all friends here, Zoe."

Zoe nodded slowly.

The crowd began to clap.

The sound broke Zoe's stupor.

Margaret winked and turned toward the podium.

A woman stepped up to the microphone. "Good morning, ladies, for those of you who are new, I am Mistress Stacie Fuchs, MILF Whore, Whore Caste, and this is the weekly meeting of the Ladies Auxiliary of the Church of Morpheus."

"What?!" Zoe whispered.

"Shh," Margaret soothed and stared into her eyes. "Everything is just fine. Nothing to worry about. You're safe and warm, Zoe."

Zoe felt herself growing drowsy. "Safe... warm..."

"Today, we have two new MILFs to welcome to the Church. Mistress Zoe Carmichael, and Mistress Justine Reynolds," Stacie Fuchs said. Her eyes narrowed as she looked out over the crowd.

Margaret stood up. "I have Zoe right here, but it looks like Justine missed the meeting."

Stacie frowned. "Well, no matter. We'll just check on Mistress Reynolds later. "She stepped away from the podium and knelt in front of Zoe.

Zoe stared into Stacie Fuchs's mesmerizing blue eyes.

"Hello, Zoe. Are you afraid?"

"Huh? No," Zoe whispered. She felt like she was floating.

"Good. We don't want you to be frightened. Are you lonely?"

Lonely? Why was this woman asking her that? "I... no."

Stacie stared into her eyes. "Zoe. You can tell me the truth. Everyone here is your friend. We all want to be your best friends. You're single, aren't you?"

Zoe felt like she was melting into the auditorium chair. "Yes."

"Were you married?"

"Yes."

"Where is your husband?"

"Left me... years ago when my son was young."

Stacie stroked her hair. "Has there been anyone else since he left you?"

"Hmm? No. Nobody else."

"Then I ask you again: are you lonely?"

Zoe teared up. "Yes."

Stacie nodded. She spoke louder. "This is the trap of society. Here is a beautiful, vibrant woman, who gives everything to raise her child. She sacrifices her own pleasure - and she does so willingly, for the good of her son. If she takes a lover, she's branded a slut. If she takes a husband, she gambles that he will be good to her child and herself. This is why our way is better."

She smiled at Zoe. "Bring her to the stage," Stacie said as she returned to the podium.

Margaret took Zoe's hand and led her to the stage.

"What's happening? I don't want to be up here," Zoe whispered.

"Shh, yes, you do," Margaret whispered.

Zoe looked out at the crowd. There had to be over a hundred women in the room.

And, a lot of them were kissing.

"Wait... why?"

"You know, I would have been just as freaked out as you a few weeks ago," Margaret said.

And, then she kissed her.

The room erupted in 'ooh's and 'ahh's.

Margaret's lips were sweet, her tongue insistent.

Zoe almost fell, but the woman held her up. Her head fell back as Margaret broke the kiss.

She slowly opened her eyes.

"You will never be lonely again," Margaret said.

"Why... are you... doing this?" Zoe whispered. She felt like she was dreaming.

"We're saving you from this world," Margaret said.

Zoe looked into her eyes. The irises seemed to be moving, wheels turning within wheels.

"You aren't afraid. Think about how lonely you've been? That's what you should be afraid of, Zoe. Not me. Not us."

Zoe nodded. That made sense. She felt alive standing on this stage in the auditorium filled with women - women who were taking off their clothes and falling together in couples, threesomes, and even larger groups.

"It's beautiful, Zoe. We all love each other. We're never lonely. You want to be one of us, don't you?"

Zoe shook her head. "Not... lesbian."

Margaret laughed and it was a beautiful sound that made her warm. It made Zoe smile.

"We're not lesbians, Zoe. We're bisexual. Best of both worlds. You want that, don't you?"

Margaret's words backed up by her glowing blue eyes seemed like the most intelligent thing she had ever heard. She could make love to men and women. No more worrying about what people thought. Just freedom.

She squeezed her eyes shut. "No. I have a son. He's still at home. I can't... do those things."

"Open your eyes, honey," Margaret whispered.

She opened her eyes and stared into the blue magic.

"Your son is with Leslie right now. She's making a man out of him, in more ways than one. He'll move out soon and follow his own path. You're free. You can be one of us now."

She felt hands on her. Her blouse was unbuttoned, her jeans unbuttoned and pulled down her legs.

Strong arms lowered Zoe to the floor.

Kisses now, her face, her lips, down her neck. Kisses on her breasts, down her belly.

Someone tugged at her pubic hair and giggled.

And, then she felt her legs opened.

She moaned as the first needle entered her breast.

***

Stacie and Margaret stood by the podium and watched as the Ladies Auxiliary turned Zoe Carmichael into a MILF Whore on the stage.

"Justine Reynolds appears to have eluded us," Stacie said.

"Very strange. I spoke to her just yesterday. I was sure she was under my control. They're in the middle of moving into their house on Oak Street," Margaret said. She looked at her tablet. "Family of four: the mother, Justine. Twenty-one-year-old daughter, Kathleen, nineteen-year-old son, Calvin, and the father, Martin."

"Fledgling Program for the son and daughter?"

"No. They just came home to help their parents move. Calvin is pre-law at Yale, Kathleen is pre-med at Stanford."

"So, we have Justine picked for MILF Whore. What about the husband?"

"Veterinarian. We were going to let him choose between Whoremaster or Professional Caste."

Zoe cried out in her first orgasm as one of the MILFs slowly pushed the long, penis-shaped sterilizer into her pussy.

"Come on," Stacie said. "Let's go check on the Reynolds family. Looks like the ladies have this well in hand."

***

Madison Fuchs walked into Stallion's Adult Video west of Ithaca in her white mini-dress and heels with a smile on her face.

Ray smiled at her from behind the counter as he buzzed her in. "Hey, sexy."

"Hey, big guy. Where's Rita?" The bimbot hadn't been at her normal post in the entryway.

"In back doing something," the Whoremaster said. "You need her?"

"Nope. Heading downstairs." She winked at a nervous looking middle-aged man who was looking at porn magazines.

The man flushed and looked away.

Nothing more terrifying than a pretty girl winking at you in a porn store

, Madison thought. Exciting, but terrifying.

She went through the door in the back and into the service corridor.

The elevator door opened automatically as she reached the end of the hall.

She stepped in and pressed 10.

The elevator dropped.

Sugar Tits was probably on one of these sublevels turning humans into transformed, either with their consent or, more likely, without it.

Madison wore white a lot. Especially when she went to Stallion's.

She wanted beyond anything to be a White Witch - after the dust settled, that is.

Donny had been made into a Junior Whoremaster at the farm, and she had been transformed, but not completely. There was still a possibility she could become a White Witch.

That is, if her immunity to mind control didn't make that impossible.

And, so long as her activities with the 'Resistance' remained secret.

The elevator dropped to level 8.

Then it rattled to a stop on level 9.

Madison froze.

She threw herself against the back wall and fumbled for her purse.

The doors opened on the darkened corridor.

Madison held her breath.

The shiny black latex bondage mask of Kimiko's face peered around the edge of the door at her.

She smiled with red latex lips.

Then Kimiko frowned.

Two laser dots were painted on Kimiko's shiny forehead from the twin Desert Eagle 50 caliber pistols Madison held.

She smiled at Kimiko. "Hi. cunt."

"Big guns," Kimiko hissed.

"Go big or go home, that's my motto." Madison licked her lips. "You need something?"

Kimiko's smile returned. "No. Mistake. Maybe we'll play later?"

"Anytime."

Kimiko reached inside and pressed the door close button with a long black claw on the end of her latex glove.

The door closed as Kimiko slinked away down the hall.

When the elevator started moving again, Madison slumped against the back wall. "Fuck. I really hate this place." She put the heavy pistols back in her purse.

The door opened on 10 and she stepped out into the bright corridor.

At the end of the hall, she stepped through the double doors into the cavernous chamber of Demona's lab.

Demona looked up and smiled. "My second favorite coed."

"Hi." She looked at the test tubes and beakers percolating on the mad scientist's work bench. "Whatcha cookin'?"

"Viruses. What are you doing down here?"

"I brought that..." She started to open her purse.

"My office, baby." Demona turned and walked into her glass walled office.

Madison walked in and closed the door behind her.

"Kiss me," Demona said.

Madison smiled. "Best offer I've had today." She kissed Demona deep.

The doctor pressed a button on her desk and the glass walled room became opaque.

She pressed another button and a faint squeal sounded from speakers in the room.

"There," Demona said as she stepped away and sat on her desk.

"Don't like how I kiss?"

Demona grinned. "Your sister is better."

"She's not my sister."

"You know what I mean."

Madison looked at the opaque white glass. "That's new."

"Yeah, I put it in when I found out fucking SlutzNet taught itself to read lips. Goddamned asshole."

Madison looked around the room.

"Relax. All the microphones in here are scrambled, he can't see through the glass - the glass is even vibrating so he can't bounce a laser off it and figure out what we're saying from the sound waves hitting the glass."

"Jesus? He can do that?"

Demona shrugged. "He's fucking smart. Too fucking smart." She held out her hand. "Give it."

Madison took the blood sample she had taken from Emily Cray out of her purse and handed it to Demona.

"Holy fucking grail. Nicely done, Mad Dog."

Madison rolled her eyes. "Jesus, I'm sorry I had to kill them."

Demona shook her head. "No, you're not. You did what you had to do, but fuck, man, this is a shit show. Fucking Church is sniffing around everything since superstud cracked open Styx's melon. They suspect everybody."

"What was I supposed to do? Run in wearing a mask? I didn't have a choice."

"I told you: I understand. I just don't like it." She held up the vial of blood and looked at it. "This might be the most important test tube in history."

She sat down at her desk and unlocked a drawer. She put the tube inside and re-locked it.

"Okay, explain this to me," Madison said.

"People who are immune to mind control, like you, have a specific gene abnormality. Because of this, their nervous system can't be affected by a mind controller's psychic energy. It also renders them immune to hypnosis drugs and hypnotism of any kind."

"So, we're freaks?"

"Sort of. I found the gene to be related to Epilepsy. Once I identified it, I created a retrovirus that will rewrite a victim's DNA to introduce the abnormality. Then I spiked the hypnosis drugs I supplied to Stacie Fuchs with the retrovirus."

Madison nodded. "So, the first time she gave Emily the hypno drug..."

"She got the retrovirus and it went to work on her system."

"But, hang on. Margaret Kent? She got the bad shot as well, but she's not immune."

"Nope. That's because Margaret got her second dose from fresh Hypnosis drug from Stallion's. Turns out I didn't use enough retrovirus in the shit I sent Stacie - it took multiple shots to get enough into Emily's system to make her hypo-immune."

"But now you know how much to use?"

"Yeah, but we still have a long way to go."

"Demona, we could give humans the retrovirus right now and stop the Church cold."

She took Madison's hand. "Honey, your heart is in the right place, but that's not the goal. I don't want to stop the transformation of mankind."

Madison sighed. "Demona..."

"Babe, listen to me. The Church is a disgusting sack of motherfuckers, nobody wants to see them crash and burn more than me. But, Morpheus's dream for a transformed humanity? That's not wrong. I don't want to make humans immune to all mind control... I want to make Whore Caste and Professional Caste immune to the fucking Bishops and Mother Superiors, and more? I want those unholier than thou assholes under the thumb of the White Witches. I want to watch Maria Fucking Marapova walk into that fucking cathedral in Havana and bring it down around their ears." She winked. "Tyler saw it, remember? Our mysterious Adam told him we would all stand together at the end: Whore Caste, Professional, and immunes."

Madison nodded. "I know."

"Now, I just have to figure out how to make our little retrovirus selective and only make people immune to Church psychics. And, I have to figure out how to make the Church susceptible to White Witch mind control. Finally, the elephant in the room: I have to figure out how the fuck to make the transformed, who are completely immune to all viruses? I have to make them sick with a virus."

***

Stacie and Margaret stood outside the Reynolds house on Oak Street.

The big moving van was sitting on the curb.

The movers were standing around in a daze.

Stacie walked up to one of them.

The fat man stared at her in confusion. "I... can we... get back to work now?"

"Why did you stop?"

"Huh? I don't know..."

"Stacie?" Margaret called from the front door.

Stacie rushed up the walk on her long stiletto heels.

Margaret waited for just inside the door.

The living room was a mess.

Furniture had been overturned.

A stack of broken dishes lay on the hardwood floor.

Clothing had been discarded here and there.

There was blood on the floor.

Stacie gritted her teeth. "Levi."

***

Okay, so maybe I'm not going to let Stacie take the lead all the time

, Mary thought.

Tank Mercer was back on the operating table. He wasn't naked this time. Tank was wearing tight sweatpants and the bulge in his crotch looked very enticing to Mary as she sat on a stool in front of him.

When Stacie had left for a meeting earlier today, Mary had promised to be good and not do anything wicked to Tank.

And, she hadn't. Not really. She hadn't given him any shots, nor had she tried to get in his tight sweatpants.

But Stacie didn't say she couldn't

educate

the muscle stud.

He lay on his back with the video headset over his eyes and the earphones over his ears.

Occasionally, he gasped and smiled as the virtual reality set explained the Church of Morpheus and their plan to save humanity.

Stacie and the others were right to believe they could get some humans to accept transformation willingly.

But Stacie wanted slow seduction.

Mary believed that some people were much simpler, and they simply needed the facts presented to them.

Not that tank was 'simple' - he spoke softly and slowly, but the boy was far from stupid. He might look like a stereotypical dumb jock, but he was not.

Tank sat up on the table.

Mary stood up and eased the goggles off him. "What did you think?"

"It's all real?" He asked.

She nodded. "Yeah. Did it scare you?"

Tank appeared to mull the question for a moment. "Yeah, at the beginning, I guess. Not sure how I feel about the whole mind control thing."

Mary sat down beside him and held his big hand. "I know. That part can be a little unsettling."

He nodded, and then he smiled. "But, that part about everybody liking each other? And, no more wars. No more dying? Just loving each other? I really liked that, Mary."

She leaned her head on his shoulder. "Me too, big guy. Think you might like to be part of it?"

He shrugged. "I... think so."

"What part do you think you'd like to play?"

"I.. Professional Caste. Like, maybe an accountant or something?" He said with a smile.

"Not Whore Caste?" Mary asked.

Tank laughed and looked down at the floor. "No, I couldn't do that. I mean, I like sex, but..."

"How many times have you had sex?"

"Three... no, four. I've had girlfriends."

She ran her fingers through his short hair. "So, why wouldn't you like being Whore Caste?"

"I... sometimes... it hurts the girl, you know?"

"Because you're so big?"

He swallowed and nodded. "I mean, you think girls would get excited when they see how big you are, but... then it starts to hurt them... and, I don't want to hurt anybody, Mary."

"Of course, you don't. You're a good person, Tank. But, transformed girls are different. You won't be too big for a transformed girl."

"I won't?" He frowned. "Hey, wait, how do you know how big I am?"

Mary bit her lower lip. "Well, honey..."

Tank sighed. "You and Stacie brought me down here before, huh? I saw on the video. Did you guys do stuff to me?"

"Not much. Would you be upset if we did?" Mary grinned.

He shook his head. "No. I don't think so."