Hells Housewife Ch 01

Book One

She didn't want big tits. Her figure, just as she was, seemed perfect for the life she led. Sarah had no use for the great globes of jiggling mammary that those sluts in the magazine had possessed. The discovery of the hidden magazine stash while cleaning had come as a blow to her, as slap in the face! Yet...also a reminder...

Sarah clicked her turn signal as she wove her usual route through the Meadow Heights district on the way to retrieve her daughter from gymnastics practice. The unassuming, red Chrysler minivan reflected the afternoon sun upon its placidly glistening surface, contrasting with the turmoil of the driver. There could be only one explanation: Jason was the only male in the house; Sarah's husband was the only possible culprit.

She furrowed her brow while brushing aside a stray whisp of her tinged-tinged, auburn hair, patting back the neat bun her tresses were bound into. The disgruntled P.T.A. mom knew that she was hardly a supermodel, she did not match the beauty ideals of the consumer age, even if she were younger. Yet still, Jason hadn't given her even a hint of dissatisfaction. Just last night, their impassioned love-making had been as intense, as responsive as ever, perhaps even more so than usual. But with no other males in the Suburban townhouse, the big-titted girly mags could not have come from any other source.

Had she been a fool? To think that mere love could compete with silicone-infused mammaries large enough for those ditzy blondes to wear as helmets? Well, the magazines were the extent of Jason's crimes so far; and....she shrugged. Some women thought it was no big deal. For some wives/girlfriends, it was acceptable for men to have a stash-- so long as nothing else came of it. Sarah chuckled cynically; with the secrets buried in her own past, certainly there was no call to---

"AHHNHH!!" A wave of fiery agony swept through her! "What the..." She examined herself, the jolt of pain felt as if her dress had ignited! But no, the same knee-length, conservatively cut, floral pattern with nary a bulge across her flat chest was there. Was that the reason for Jason's wandering eye? Were his genuine feelings being submerged beneath the irresistible male fixation on the female breast? Sarah's non-existent cleavage could not hope to hold the interest of a true Breast-man, was that the-

"URRHHH!!" The Pain! Again! A palpable aura of feverish heat flushed through her entire body with lightning intensity. Had Sarah been just a few years beyond her mid-forties age category, the explanation for hot flashes would have been obvious. And yet...while her body held little in the way of youthful vigor, she knew now what this was. It was no natural cycle of life, she'd known this sensation before, long ago.

The minivan lurched on the road as the jerking, tingling sensation assaulted Sarah's chest. Arching her spine, she grunted as the wave of painful pleasure swept over her; it was starting. The breast growth left no possible doubt. The tense thrusting of her suddenly erect nipples created visible tents in her dress. There was no bra, Sarah was not one of those women who felt she needed one to be truly female; her flat-chested figure did not require it.

But that meant that now, there was nothing to stop the rampant, ripening expansion of her breasts. As usual, the growth started first with a rapid burst of growth that propelled her bustline into a shape like small pancakes, barely an A-cup. But Sarah knew what was next, the searing waves of throbbing heat as burgeoning teats continued to enlarge. It had all happened before; and there was no escape!

But how much time did the blossoming housewife have? She examined herself carefully in the Van's rear-view mirror. Within moments, skin tightened, her eyes seemed to grow narrower, sharper, with a darkening around them, as if she'd been applying eye shadow. But already, the crow's-feet that surrounded eyes and mouth smoothed out in less time than it took to say it. She was youthening more rapidly than normal. She might have been a woman in her late twenties by now!

But her hair, her hair was writhing inside the restraints that kept it in the tight bun, by now all traces of gray had vanished, and the auburn strands were shifting in color towards an orange-red. With a grunt, her breasts jiggled; having expanded past A-cups, the erect nipples soon lengthening into a strawberry shape, rounding and plumping into apple-like sizes. It was as if larger, sexier mammaries were forcing their way outwards through her chest; a fiery, erotic lava seemed to be pouring into her bosoms, enlarging as they sensitized, jiggling as jugs ripened from a mere orange size through and past the girth of grapefruits. Her growth slowed down only slightly as ample breasts reached a vast, fluid grandeur too large for her to hold in hand, breastflesh pressing against her forearms as she gripped the steering wheel.

No time now! She HAD to pull in! Struggling to focus on the road as her body became progressively younger, bustier, and hornier, the wetness from her heating cunt rapidly dampening her panties. Jerking the wheel, her minivan swerved into Save-N-Munch, searching out the most remote parking space available in the supermarket lot.

A strand of silken, blood-red hair fell over her eyes as she slithered into the backseat, pulling down the front of her dress, to try to minimize the damage down by her outsized orbs. There was no stopping it; the Compulsion was too powerful. She would have to resolve the situation as soon as possible, but she couldn't let the changes consume her!

"I...will not forget who I am!" Sarah declared, as her labia began to quiver with desire. "I am Sarah Evans Cox, I am a forty-five year-old wife and mother!" Yet the eerily smooth perfection of her seamlessly beautiful face could not have belonged to a woman over thirty. She wrapped her arms around her ribs, as the fiery waves of painful pleasure seared her skin, while quivering bosoms swelled upwards against the resistance of her arms, creamy valleys of raw tit pressing up against her elegant chin. "I am Sarah Evans COX! I WILL NOT FORGET!!" She insisted.

But when her fingers seemed to lengthen, when she felt a slicing sensation along her shoulder blades, she knew there were mere moments before-

"YAAAHAAAAAAAHHHH!" The burst of flames, sparks, and oily smoke would stain the minivan interior for weeks, but Sarah had other problems....

The combination of pain and pleasure confounded the senses, as they did with every summoning. But then, the Frenzy hit. Sarah felt a throbbing pulse of volcanic heat between the moist folds of her slippery cunt. Her lower lips bulged and swelled, a fiery craving radiating outward from her womanly core that would only grow more intense as the seconds passed.

Sarah rose up to her full height, stretching her toned, powerful muscles. There was a nervous quiver in her crotch, much like the sensation of a vast penis penetrating her, but only a brief, tantalizing taste. Her skin shivered with a sensation similar to that caused by a hard, hairy man pressing up against her naked frame. Her taller frame.

She now stood well over 6 feet tall, almost 10 or 11 inches over. Hers was a statuesque body with just enough toned muscle to convey the appearance of optimum physical health, yet the soft curvature of hips, thighs, and jutting breasts aroused the basest of male instincts.

Emitting a low snarl that resonated to menacing effect, Sarah stretched, and opened wide her red and black bat-like wings. Harsh shadows like sword-points raised in defiance spread across the smooth cement floor upon which the summoning circles had been inscribed.

Eyes that glowed with a blood-red malevolence within her hauntingly elegant face surveyed the cool, cement chamber. Nearly 150 feet in all directions were barren, cinderblock walls. Bare metal frames that looked like they might once have been bookcases were scattered in the northeast corner. A library no doubt.

"Dude! This crap is for real?!" exclaimed an uncultured voice from outside the tertiary warding circle, which was drawn with surprising skill; whoever summoned her this time had done their homework.

Her legs moved like coppery-skinned towers of feminine grace as she approached the boundaries of the summoning circle, her red tail swishing languidly between her powerful thighs. Not the silly, arrow-head devil's-tail men drew in myths, hers was flexible, but it ended in a point more like that of a scorpion. And she didn't have hooves, just blood-red, elongated claws on hands and feet.

The fierce horror of her hellish anatomy would strike fear into the hearts of the most resolute, yet the voluptuous splendor of her ample femininity triggered a fiery lust in men that warred with their original fright. Most often, the lust won. Smarter men down through the centuries had fled screaming into the night even as their pensises lengthened to full erection, to masturbate from afar.

"Esh' Ult-kra' athrah! Esh' Ult-kra' naka thok! Sarai'erothkok!" Rasped a thin, waifish Goth-girl with white face-paint, nipple rings revealed on her bare, pert breasts, clad in a nightmarish riot of leather belts and fish-net stockings. Candlelight played across her painted face as she strained to pronounce words in a forbidden language whose speakers had been exterminated for witchcraft in a primordial age before the Egyptians raised their Pyramids.

But more disturbing than the girl's fashion sense was the fact that she knew Sarah's Truename! Moist lips curved in a predatory smile, revealing sharpened teeth as Sarah spoke.

"I have familiarity with the Modern English Language, you may address me in this tongue." Her voice had a husky, feminine allure with a thundering undercurrent of diabolical menace that echoed throughout the library basement. Impressive; these humans were far more learned than the last bunch of bunglers. Sarah was becoming more interested. Her porcelain face appraised the mortals, the ethereal perfection of her face and form reflecting no trace of the aging features of the 40-something housewife.

Goth-girl nodded slightly, and repeated her earlier greeting, this time in modern English.

"We summon you in humility; We summon you with respect; Sarai'erothkok!" Began the sorcerous waif, her brown eyes wide with admiration and terror alike. "We apologize for summoning you away from your dark realm of fire and torment!" she added.

"If you only knew, Human."

**********

"Those narrow-minded cowards! The whole point of the test is because we don't know anything about it!" Dr. Linda Cartwright silently admonished. Her colleagues kept insisting that they needed more information on the cells, that her proposal was too invasive, too risky when the research team could determine nothing with certainty about the cells. But that was the idea! To learn enough finally to build some theories and write the reports!

The South Weddel Microbiological Research Initiative had isolated the ice-core samples nearly a month ago, long shafts of glacial frigidity chock-full of unusual cellular structures that had been on ice for eons. Possibly since the 'Snow-Ball Earth' ice-age nearly 700 million years ago, Dr. Cartwright surmised. And it was a rare and serendipitous shifting of the Antarctic glacial ice-sheets that revealed this unexplored layer, with cells unlike any yet known.

But the problem was, after weeks of experimentation, they had learned almost nothing definite. The cells were purple; they had structures that might contain an equivalent of chlorophyll, but....purple? Their architecture was baffling: The surface was festooned with tubules, injectors, and attachment points, much like what one would expect of a virus. Yet, the clearly delineated organelles made it clear that these were cells of a living, multi-cellular species. But what?

They'd done PCR, spectroscopy, chromatography, E.L.I.S.A and every sort of immunoprecipitation assay they could come up with, but no matches to any known species! The proteins that they isolated from the samples had no discernible function, and did not match any known protein families. It was in short, enough to make Linda a believer in UFO's! The samples matched nothing, at least nothing on Earth!

She loosened the clip that bound her mouse-brown hair and turned her hazel eyes towards a plasma screen tasked to a nearby scanning electron microscope. The computer display showed a perverse hode-podge of loops, whorls, and pointless twists and turns drawn in a single, purple line. Similar to an unfinished protein, yet the strange bodies inside the cells were not made of conventional amino acids, but rather Thymine? Outside the nucleus? It made no sense, but there it was, and that was the only molecule found that any molecular biologist could recognize.

If Linda's calculations were correct, (and they almost always were!) She could get a protein with demonstrable function if she could somehow form connections between these bizarre Thymine loops. And the only way to do that was by bombarding the sample with a burst of ultraviolet radiation. But the others! They wanted less invasive, more indirect tests first. After all, we don't know what we're dealing with. Linda made a pantomiming motion with her lips to mock the mantra repeated time and again by the Director, as he tried to moderate her enthusiasm. But she hadn't made it this far by being a shrinking violet; she had already resolved herself to take the initiative. And after this worked, and their names were all permanently ensconced in the pantheon of biologists, they'd probably try to take credit for what she was about to discover.....in about 30 seconds.

A small chip of glacial ice sat forlornly in the isolation chamber under the hazardous materials hood. And...yes, the bombardment had begun! The Thymine loops would form dimers, as the molecules linked with each other under the influence of the U.V. bombardment. Intently, Linda watched the computer monitors with baited breath.

"Now...once the Thymine dimers form, that should complete the Quaternary structure, and this should be a legitimate protein with real, testable function! Heh, probably named after me!" she chuckled. The process was completed even faster than she expected. "80...90% and....hold on....that can't be right!?" Linda exclaimed, as she poured over the digital data. The small ice chip, which had turned a deep purple, went unnoticed as Dr. Cartright double-checked the readings.

"These mass readings are way off! What could have gone wrong?" It was difficult to say what surprised her more; the implausible readings that flickered across the plasma screen monitors, or the glistening, purple and green-veined tentacle that crashed violently through the hazardous materials glass partition and thrust itself into her mouth and down her throat.

**********

"Dude...is she like... a succubus or something?" asks the spiky-haired, lackwit youth in a tie-dyed T-shirt. The fishnet-clad Goth girl snarled angrily, and turned on the boy.

"Fool! Her kind prefer to be called, Lilim. You must address the Great One properly if she is to grant us our boon!" explained the girl.

"You are correct, human. Succubi are myth; The Lilim are truth. The sex-demon sensuously walked along the line of the summoning circle that bound her, the red, flexible tail that sprouted above the curvature of her ass caressed her smooth, tall legs like a lover's kiss, as it approached her steamy-hot cunt. She knew the role well, and played her part admirably. "And what Boon would you dare to request from Sarai'erothkok, Mistress of Flame and Lust?" She almost chuckled, summoners expected you to add a few boastful nicknames. Goth-girl's eyes widened before she spoke, she was really getting into this.

"Oh puissant Mistress of Flame and Lust, this unworthy mortal would ask only a small, minor gift easily within your great powers. Before speaking of my own needs, I offer up what I hope to be suitable payment for your attentions." The girl's eyes glistened, hands trembled with excitement as she gestured to her left. In an ancillary circle connected to the other runes by intricate circuits drawn in what seemed to be chicken blood, there sat a somewhat pudgy college sophomore tied firmly to a chair. He wore a Sigma-Chi Letter shirt, and the redness of his eyes suggested great fatigue or mental impairment.

"For your payment, I offer the soul of this human, to be your plaything as you sit upon your burning throne of blood and sorrow!" Oooh! How poetic!

"Hey!" protested the proffered sacrifice. "Y-you ssaid...if I sat in th-this chair...I wuz gonna get laid!" he insisted. His speech impediment suggested severe intoxication, confirmed by the pungent aroma of cheap whiskey.

"And so you shall, Fool! Do not speak again!" demanded the painted girl. Smiling sheepishly, she again regarded the imposing sex-demon. "In addition, my assistant promises one year of service if you will grant him a boon at the conclusion." Sarai'erothkok was growing impatient; she was already late to pick up her daughter from the high school, she had to move quicker in order to get back to her life. The Mistress of Flame and Lust also had a P.T.A. meeting at 6.

"Your wish?" she demanded in a harsh whisper filled with veiled menace. Goth-girl shuddered as she spoke.

"I wish to be....forever young and beautiful! I wish to appear as you do! And to never age! I would ask for beauty as you possess, that will never fade with age!" Years of longing trembled in the girl's voice as she spoke.

"Easily done, come forward and embrace your boon!" Unable to leave the circle, Sarai'erothkok had to lure the humans to her. With equal parts lust and trepidation, the waifish girl entered the central summoning circle. The Lilim laid a delicate hand over her nipples, and red eyes flared with power. With a burst of sparks and brimstone, every stitch of leather and fabric the girl wore disintegrated, leaving her naked before the bosomy embrace of the sultry demoness.

Female flesh pressed together, as Sarai'erothkok ravished the waifish girl in a perverse coupling born of hellish lusts. Overwhelmed and overawed by the daunting power and greater size of her illicit lover, the girl could do little more than twitter and squirm as the Lilim thrust her elongated tongue into her mouth. Clawed hands swished and poked at precise nerve centers and erogenous zones, engulfing the girl in erotic sensation even as pliant, vast breasts engulfed the human's head.

Her mortal prey yelped in both pain and glee as the pointed tail neatly speared her cunt in a precise, perfect penetration. This was of course, the primary purpose of the Lilim's tail. The sharp, wicked implement could actually be manipulated to provoke spasms of erotic stimulation unavailable from a mere cock. And further more, the sharp tip contained a potent erototoxin that Sarai'erothkok was now injecting into the human, paralyzing her with delicious ecstasy for hours on end.

It began with a burst of blood-red light from the girl's own eyes, as her bones and flesh shifted, reformed, enlarged. Writhing against the terrible beauty of the demoness' feminine curves, the waifish girl grew and throbbed with hellish energy. All the while the tension, the stimulation assaulted her every sense with carnal cravings. Shuddering, the girl ground and thrust her hips against the barbed tail, as the pleasure of a dozen dildoes ravaged her mind and body.

"Oh no my pet; you will not climax until I wish it!" hissed the Lilim. Centuries ago, the hellish creature had mastered the sexual organs of both genders. For men, it was too easy; she had absolute control the moment a man dared to thrust his penis into her hot sex. But for women, she had needed a few decades to learn ways to manipulate her tail so that like males, females also were helpless before her. Lilim spent long hours practicing upon their own cunts in anticipation of the need to dominate a woman. She could do more tricks to a man with his penis inside her, but nonetheless, once her obscene tail penetrated a vagina, all hope was lost.