A Treat Turns Tricks Ch 05

I so much appreciate the attention and votes my readers have given this series of silly little strokers. Please tell me what you like or don't like about it so I'll know what to change next chapter.

Dorothy Estevez stood in front of the full length mirror in her bathroom, a towel around her wet hair. She had the strangest feeling something was amiss. Recently her bras started feeling tight. She might have put that up to a weight gain but the scale said otherwise. Oddly, the waistbands of all her skirts and pants were getting loose while at the same time getting them over her hips was getting harder. It was all very peculiar.

The changes were not purely physical. Among her duties as Provost of Lindsey College were regular meetings with the Trustees. Normally the middle-aged to elderly gentlemen who made up the board dozed through Dr. Esetevz' reports and then routinely approved her recommendations. But last time they had paid her uncommonly rapt attention while at the same time not appearing to hear a thing she had to say. In fact, they were even more distracted than usual, she thought.

You'd think I was the homecoming queen addressing a group of incoming freshmen. It's not like I was wearing a tight sweater or a low-cut blouse. What has gotten into them?

Provost Estevez had not only been the first one in her family to graduate from college, she's been the first to complete graduate school and was the first woman to have an independent career. As she'd firmly explained to her mother, with the number of nieces and nephews she had to spoil, there was no need for children of her own and a husband would just get in the way. Not that she had anything against men. She didn't and the attention was flattering but it was also a bit unsettling. After all, the youngest of the Trustees was her father's age.

One afternoon the next week she stopped in at a close friend's home for tea. Charlotte Reinhart was an old roommate from college. Rather than having a career of her own, Char had married an adorable geek who gone on to a kind of absent-minded but highly profitable entrepreneurial career. Harvey had sold three different companies in a dozen years and was now devoting his time to going around the world and giving some of the proceeds away while his wife stayed home and spent the interest on the remainder.

"Hi Char, how's things?"

"Hello Dor—my gawd girl, what have you done to yourself? If this is some new miracle diet I want to know about it immediately. Come in and tell me all about this transformation. You look fabulous!"

After a second cup of tea and all the friendly chatter that goes on between old friends, Charlotte put her cup and saucer down and leaned forward to get a closer look. "Dorothy, level with me. Have you had plastic surgery or something? You've always had great skin but now you've boobs to next week and a butt that would start a riot. What did you do?"

Dorothy turned her hands palm up and shrugged dramatically. "I don't understand it either. About a month ago I looked and felt just the way I always have. I went to a conference in Jackson Hole and after I came back I—started to change. And lately I'm starting to—to really attract men, even men old enough to be my grandfather! I don't have any explanation and, to be honest, I kind of like it. Maybe I should be creeped out but I'm not."

"Well, it might be that new perfume you're wearing."

"I'm not wearing any."

"Oh? Then why do you smell sort of like cinnamon and nutmeg and—and maybe apple cider? I mean, girl, you look and smell good enough to eat. In fact, I'm tempted. Did you know I had the hots for you back at Swathmore? I never did anything about it, especially after Harvey came along but now . . . ."

Dorothy's jaw dropped but with the corners of her mouth curved up. "You are? You did? Well," a strange, compliant feeling came over the Provost, "if you want; I guess it's okay."

A feral glow came from Charlotte's eyes. "It is? Oh, my. Well, then let's just take that gorgeous new body of your upstairs and give it a test drive!"

In the master bedroom, Charlotte shut the door firmly and leered at her friend. "Take it off. Take it all off. I want to see you, Dorothy Estevez, the way your lovers see you."

Blushing slightly, Dorothy unbuttoned her blouse down to the waistband of her pants and then unfastened them. She kicked off her shoes and slid the trousers and the thong beneath them over her hips and let them drop.

"Dorothy, you waxed?"

"Uh, no. That's another thing that's happened. All my body hair just fell out one night in the shower and never grew back. And I get aroused faster."

"Grrr . . . I can see that already. Look at you all puffy and pink. Keep going. I want you naked."

Dorothy tossed the blouse to one side, reached back to unfasten her bra and then, with a wink, bent over to let it drop down her arms to the floor. She shook her shoulders making the globes beneath bounce gently. Then she stood up and backed to the bed, sat down and slid into the middle of it with her legs spread.

To Dorothy's amazement Charlotte tore off her clothes, sending popped buttons in all directions. The blond threw herself onto Dorothy's body, kissing, sucking, licking, fondling, nibbling and biting in fury of lust. Dr. Estevez had had her share of lovers before but never had one of them shown this kind of hunger. When at last Charlotte descended to Dorothy's sex she nearly devoured it. The darker woman felt a tongue wiggle inside and lash around, flickering here and there. Lips closed on her clitoris sucking and slavering. It was—gratifying was the only word that fit.

I'm an object of desire. I'm irresistible. I've never felt like this in my life. I—I'm cuming!

"Ch—Charlotte? Dorothy?" Harvey Reinhart stood in the bedroom door, his eyes goggling and mouth hanging open. Dorothy felt Charlotte freeze and glanced down to see the blond blanch between her thighs.

A lazy smile spread across the Provost's face. "Hi Henry. Want to join the fun?" She reached up and squeezed her breasts together. "I can do you a great boob job."

Confusion and indecision on his face Henry undid his necktie and began fumbling out of his clothes. His wife rolled over and threw him a smoldering look. "Honey, you have such great timing. Come here and give Dorothy a shot of that cock."

At those words the brunette shrugged, smiled, lifted her knees and held out her arms. "Heck yeah, Henry. I'm hot enough for both of you. Come on down, stud. Let me have it."

The sight of two naked, inviting women was all the motivation Henry needed. Almost falling in his eagerness to get out of his suit he finally scrambled up onto the bed next to them. Charlotte dove for his cock and taking it in one hand and her mouth sucked and stroked him erect. As soon as she released him, Dorothy reached up and pulled the man on top. Wet and swollen as she was, Henry needed no assistance sinking his manhood into her waiting channel with a groan.

"Oh," Dorothy whispered, "come on, man, use me. Shoot a load into me."

*****

Over the next weeks, Dorothy became more and more comfortable in her newfound sexuality. Men, she decided, were just wonderful and came so delightfully equipped. It was the night she accepted an invitation to the hotel room of one of the college's most important donors that she fully admitted to herself that she liked what she had become. A feeling of sensuous anticipation overcame the woman as she lay naked under the sheets watching the man who was about to have his way with her unfasten his cufflinks. Soon he would be naked and inside her moaning with pleasure. This particular gentleman was the sort to take his time and try to maximize both their feelings. Dorothy appreciated the thought though she wouldn't have been disappointed if he just stallionized his way through. Being used was fun, however it happened.

The next day the phone rang. It was Charlotte.

"Dorothy? It's catching!"

"Catching? What's catching? Char, what

are

you talking about?"

"Sex, Dorothy. Two days after you stopped by, all my body hair washed off in the shower."

"Really? Let's see, that was last month—so by now you've had to replace all your bras?"

"Yes! And it's not just me. Henry has gotten bigger, really bigger. I can hardly give him a blow job he's so thick and his balls have gotten totally huge. And he's always horny, Dor, and virile? Sunday before last was our anniversary so he got up early and fixed me breakfast in bed."

"Aw, how sweet!"

"Yeah? Well then he had me four times!"

"FOUR?"

"Four! And there's more. Night before last we had the Ohura's over. You remember Ben and Sonya?"

"Sure. Sweet couple. Uh-oh, I think I see where this is going."

"Yes. We were supposed to be playing bridge but halfway through a bottle of Merlot it somehow turned into strip poker and after that . . . ."

"You spent the night with Ben and Henry really, really impressed Sonya?"

"We did! Dorothy, this is contagious and we just infected two of our best friends. We really need to see a doctor or something."

"Char, if we tell a doctor about this, she'll have to report it to the CDC. They'll figure it's some new sort disease and try to cure it. Do you really

want

to be cured?"

There was a long silence on the other end of the phone. "Uh . . . ."

"Henry was always a sweetheart, Char, but can you honestly tell me you'd rather have the geeky old version instead of this new supercharged one? Can you?"

"I—I don't know. Wait a minute. This isn't the old Dorothy Estevez talking. You've supercharged your sex life, too, haven't you?"

"Well, I don't know about 'supercharged' but it has gotten more active. In fact, I'm supposed to be spending the weekend with the chairman of the board of trustees, cementing bonds between town and gown, you know."

"Matthew? But he's married!"

"Yes but Madelyn will be in Paris for two weeks to see all the major runway shows so Matt invited me up to their cabin on the lake."

"Dorothy, that's adultery!"

"So? We're both adults—and besides if what you tell me is the real goods a couple of weeks after she gets back, she's going to be impressed. Then start the guessing games; who will Maddy pass it on to?"

"Dorothy, who gave it to you?"

Dr. Estevez scrolled back through her memory of the last couple of months. Everything had started after the conference in Jackson Hole and at the conference . . .

"Edward Tolliver. He's the Dean of Humanities at Benthamsthwaite College. We met several conferences ago but this time we started the evening over drinks, had dinner and then . . . ."

"He seduced you. I'll bet you thought he was wearing a really sexy aftershave the way I thought you had perfume on. A couple of lungs full of that stuff and anyone would become putty in your hands."

Dorothy thought about that. It explained so much.

I really am irresistible. All I have to do is lean close to a man—or a woman, if Charlotte is any indication, and . . . .

"Charlotte, you've really peaked my curiosity. I think I'm going to give dear Eddie a call. I definitely don't want to be 'cured' but I do want to find out how this got started."

*****

"Teddy, what have you done?"

The giant, purple sea anemone shaped alien buzzed in amusement. "What have I done which time, Tolliver? I've done a lot ever since I landed on this charming planet. I will be sorry to leave, in a way, but I really do want to get back to my own species."

"Stop the nonsense, Teddy. I just got a call from Dorothy Estevez, the Provost of Lindsey College. We met at the Jackson Hole conference in August and . . . ."

"Just met? Don't be shy, Tolliver, admit it. You thoroughly enjoyed her conversation, her company and her body. I know you too well. In fact, I made sure you would with all my modifications. So what's the problem?"

"Teddy, she's gone through all the modifications, too! And she's never been here so I repeat, what have you done?"

Again the alien buzzed, "Has she now? Excellent. I was sure it would work and now you've given me proof. What did I do? Genetic engineering, Tolliver, it is one of my specialties, after all. I modified a tissue fluke, one of the

Trematoda

. It lives quietly and inoffensively in the human gonads doing no harm and exuding those chemicals that I have perfected for the modification process I use on all of you here. When a woman carrying the flukes gives birth, the eggs will go with the newborn and the larvae will remain dormant until stimulated by the enzymes released in late puberty. So the process begins venally and becomes hereditary, after a fashion. The dear little things make wonderful commensurals, don't you think? It's my little going-away present to humanity."

"You—you infected me with parasites? And then I infected . . .?"

"No. I planted them in Gwynn Moriarty. She planted them in you at the Independence Day faculty party. Since then I believe she has gotten to most of the male faculty and of course the men have taken care of all the ladies. Why I even suspect that a few naughty individuals have gone off campus. And they're not parasites, Tolliver, they're commensurals. They are, if anything, less pernicious than the

Demodex

eyelash mites. And they

are

a present. Among their

other

properties is that they give immunity to all known venereal diseases. Within fifty years or less HIV, syphilis, gonorrhea and the like will be extinct. The human body will no longer harbor them. And one other thing, Tolly dear, they defuse violent aggression. Murder and warfare will fade as the fluke spreads. I think you should be grateful."

"No—no more war or oppression? No more sexually transmitted disease? Teddy, I always knew you were an amazing biologist but migawd, man, that's work worthy of at least three Nobel's."

This time the alien not only buzzed but its tentacles waved wildly. "Perhaps, darling, but somehow I can't see some poor tailor trying to fit me with white tie and tails for the ceremony. I'll just take my reward in more tangible terms. Undress, Tolliver, I want your body."

*****

Provost Estevez leaned back in the cozy booth of the Benthamsthwaite Faculty Club bar and sipped delicately from her Margarita. She raised a skeptical eyebrow as she addressed Dean Tolliver.

"Edward, I didn't drive all the way from Lindsey to Benthamsthwaite to listen to fairy tales. You claim that this sexually transmitted sexuality was started by an alien in your basement? Even the internet trolls with tinfoil hats can come up with a better conspiracy than that. I'm not complaining. I love my new, sensual lifestyle but don't take me for a fool. I want the truth. Who in your bio department hatched this little gem up, hmm?"

Tolliver sighed. He knew just telling Dr. Estevez would never pass. Though the staff at Benthamsthwaite thought nothing special about the fact that their sex lives and family planning was run by something that looked like a ten foot tall purple sea anemone, there was no guarantee that others wouldn't find the idea outrageous. After all, Benthamsthwaite had been under Teddy's rule for nearly two centuries. There was only one thing to do.

"Okay, since you're going to be a good little skeptic, Dorothy, I suppose there's only one way to answer you."

He slipped out of the booth and offered his guest a hand. Dubious, she took it and tucked it into the crook of his elbow. They walked through the club past somber portraits of former administrators, lively nudes of current faculty and brilliant watercolors of spring flowers and fall foliage to the ballroom and crossed it. Tolliver touched an unremarkable spot on the wall paneling and a doorway slid open without a sound. It revealed a stairway that descended into the hill, its darkness lit only by flickering gas sconces on the wall.

"There really is a basement in this place?"

"There is. And now, dear Dorothy, you are in for the true Benthamsthwaite Experience."

Tightening his hold on her hand, Dean Tolliver gently pulled the astonished Provost down the stairs. At the basement landing was a huge, iron-bound oak door. It looked like a set from a medieval romance film or possibly a parody of a vampire movie. Tolliver turned and took Dorothy in his arms, pressing his pelvis against her.

"You didn't believe there was an alien in our basement, Dorothy, and now you're going to find out the truth. Fortunately, it won't be terribly traumatic since you've already been modified like the rest of us here at Benthamsthwaite. For most of the world, tentacle sex is a naughty but delicious fantasy. Not here. Here we know just what it's like to be penetrated in all orifices by squirmy, writhing arms. And you are going to know, too. I will take you into that room, Dorothy, and strip you down and tie you in place. Teddy likes that sort of thing. You will, too."

With one hand Tolliver pushed open the great door. It creaked theatrically while with the other he pulled the reluctant Provost into Teddy's lair. Her eyes goggled at the sight of him, a waving mass of arms twenty feet across atop a ten-foot tall stalk thick as a large man's body. But perhaps due to the familiar scent of nutmeg, cinnamon and apple cider, she felt no real fear, just amazement.

"T—this is Teddy?"

"That's me," an amused voice came from the thing's direction. It had the pitch of a cello but the tone of a flute. "Allow me to make your acquaintance."

"Teddy," Tolliver announced, "this is Dorothy Estevez, Provost of Lindsey College, an academic colleague of mine and, as you can see, quite a toothsome morsel of a woman. Dorothy, this is Teddy, the alien in the basement."

So profound was Dr. Estevez' astonishment that she stood, unresisting, while Tolliver efficiently stripped her clothing away. She hung back, though, when he pulled her closer and when he clicked a padded manacle to her ankle she protested. "No, Eddie, you aren't going to leave me here with that thing?"

"I am, dear." He picked up her discarded garments and hung them neatly on a nearby valet. "I'm going to leave you here with Teddy. If I stayed he would be distracted because he likes all humans, whatever their sex. And so I will leave the two of you alone. Teddy will ravish you, possibly for hours. When he's finished he'll let me know and I will come back and retrieve you and put you to bed. Then tomorrow you can go back to Lindsey and continue spreading Teddy's gift."

The door boomed behind him and Dorothy was alone in the dimly lit room. The chain on her manacle was only about six feet long and she pulled as far from the alien as she could get. An arm snaked with exquisite slowness toward her and ran up the inside of her pinioned leg from the sole of her foot to the doorway to her sex. Though she cringed at the touch she relaxed when the tentacle turned out not to be cold and slimy but human warm and the texture of Moroccan leather. She tried to push it away from her crotch but it was irresistibly strong and her efforts had all the effect of a mouse trying to push away a boa.

The tendril worked its way up her body, stopping to squeeze a generous breast and then stroked her cheek before curling gently around the back of her neck.

"I could let you go, Dorothy, and then we could have lots of fun playing cat and mouse. You keep trying to get out the door and I keep pulling you back just as you reach it. I could even let you put your clothes back on and then pull them off. I've had lots of practice doing that over the last couple of hundred years. Or maybe I'll just wrap you up helplessly like so often do and play with your body. That's great fun. But whatever you do, dear, don't faint. Then I have to revive you and that wastes time betters spent exploring this delightful body of yours, hmm?"

More tentacles slithered to her and wrapped around her wrists and the other ankle. She found herself spread wide as more arms stroked and fondled her, rubbing her pussy and flicking her nipples. Unbidden warmth spread from her pussy up her belly and down her thighs.