On a warm day in July, Dorothy Estevez strolled through the Benthamsthwaite College Faculty club, smiling and waving to those she met. Approaching a featureless paneled wall in the common room, she touched a knot and stepped back as a concealed elevator door opened. She rode it down two stories to the basement, exited and walked to where Teddy, the college's resident alien and master, stood with his mass of purple tentacles waving gently five feet above her head.
"Hello, Teddy. I presume you want me?" She began to disrobe and to hang her garments on the convenient valet.
"Always, Dorothy," Teddy fluted in response, "I love all you humans but some more than others. You, for some reason, appeal to me even more than most. But I want a report, too. How is our little plague spreading?"
"Slowly, dear. I infected my old college roommate and her husband and they in turn got another couple. I also converted the Chairman of the Board of Trustees who then nailed his dear wife. But Teddy, I am the Provost of the College and have responsibilities. However appealing the idea, I can hardly drop everything and devote my life to sex."
"So your solution is . . .?"
Dorothy leered as she related. "I found an undergraduate intern and abducted him. I know that was overly dramatic but it just seemed the right thing to do."
*****
Elliot Murdoch blinked a few times and muzzily became aware of his surroundings. The last thing he remembered was being about to leave his internship in the Admin building at Lindsey College. He'd said his good-byes around the office saving the Provost for last. Once she'd told him, "Farewell" and thanked him for his service, Elliot had turned away to suddenly feel the sting of a needle in his left buttock. Now he was awake. The room was dimly lit and he was facing a monitor that showed the image of a severely dressed young woman with a grim face working in apparent ignorance of the camera trained on her work station. Most alarming he was standing upright, naked, and his wrists were firmly tethered next to his ears and his feet as well.
"As I recall, Elliot," Provost Estevez' voice purred in his ear, "You are quite the vintage film buff with an especial fondness for B grade horror flics. Therefore you should be quite familiar with the scene where the helpless and hapless heroine faces her inescapable doom? It might be the wax vat, mummification alive, a gigantic serpent or whatever. The point is that there is never a way out and no hero rappelling down the building to rescue her. Appreciate her predicament. And now feel free to scream because you are in that very position. I'm going to change you into something else and there is no escape and no going back."
"D—Dr. Estavez?"
"The very same, but from now on, call me Mistress." She came into view and quite a view it was. Her long dark hair cascaded down her shoulders and back and she was clad in a tight, dark red jump suit. Unlike her usual business wear, this outfit displayed, even flaunted a spectacular figure.
"Very soon I'm going to transform you into a truly sexy beast. Delightfully hairy, a two inch thick cock and a pair of balls so large I'll need both hands to do this." She palmed his 'package', bouncing it gently. "In other words, after about a month Elliot Murdoch will be a satyr, minus the horns and hooves, of course. Additionally, you will have complete control over a vastly improved collection of pheromones. They will be so powerful you will be able to turn a woman on just sitting upwind of her drinking your coffee. After a few minutes, you'll be able to whisper in her ear that you know a place where the two of you can be alone and she will, possibly blushing and stammering, come with you and, in the vulgar, put out. And a month after she has, she will a nymph—like me."
As she spoke the woman grasped the zipper pull between her breasts and tugged it down to her crotch. Languidly she pulled her arms from the sleeves and let it drop in a puddle at her feet. She was smooth and bare with the skin of a nubile teenager. She lifted her breasts with her hands, squeezing them and pointing the nipples like gun barrels at his face. "Now does that sound so terrible a fate? Not that it matters whether you accept it or not because there's no way you can prevent it."
"But—but why? And why me?"
"Because you're cute, because I can and because I want to. There are some side benefits like complete immunity to all venereal diseases and reduced violent aggression but the real reason is that young lady on the monitor. She never has any fun, just works her poor little ass off sixty hours a week doing data entry. She's even forgotten what she was working toward. So—I'm shall play fairy godmother and turn you into something else—for her benefit."
She leaned close to his face and blew gently in his face. There was a scent of cinnamon and nutmeg with just a hint of apple in the air. Elliot felt his face flush, heat rise in his groin and his cock stiffen and stand upright. Dorothy ran soft, warm hands up and down its length and thumbed the frenum under the helmet. Elliot moaned. She knelt down and took it in her mouth slowly stroking the shaft and sucking firmly. She stood back up.
"It's caused by a genetically modified
Trematoda
fluke. I was infected with it by a gentleman who didn't even know he was a carrier at the time. He does now. And I'm one, too. And soon, very soon, so will you be. Needless to say the young ladies will be very impressed, especially when you stick your new, giant cock in them—and you will. Each one you seduce and fuck will also become a nymph and go on to seduce and be fucked by other young men. Naturally, they will all be infected, enhanced and turned effectively into satyrs just like you are about to be.
You see, Elliot, though I can use my pheromones to seduce you, everything has its price. I'm not just a
fem fatale
, I'm an object of desire. And when a man desires me I need to have a very good reason to decline. I seldom do. Being thrown down on my carpet and relentlessly used by a great tool like the one you're going to have is fabulous and that's what you'll be doing to in a month. Then I'll turn you loose on chicks like Sylvia over there. All work and no Playmate makes Jill dull. So you'll change that. She'll be happier when she's sexy and you'll be happy when she's on her back with her legs spread. But now, say good-bye to the old Elliot, darling. You're about to be changed."