Xxxecil's: the Cocout B. 03

"Please don't jump out of the car," his chauffeur asked. "We are deeply empathic, and it would cause great distress if you injured yourself." Her voice was a near shout - to make herself heard over the roar of the wind. His chiseled pectorals heaved, the wind gathering a strand of his long, dark hair.

"Not like you care, you're a predator - I'm your meat."

"You have a lot to learn, big guy." She furrowed her eyebrows as if genuinely hurt. Her name was Rapture, (of course) and she came from a multi-man seraglio built out of the Mayor's house. The aliens would be running everything soon enough, as man after man succumbed to the spine-arching delights of a never ending orgy. Strangely, this SheMorph was actually clothed! The black cocktail dress was actually more striking for the contrast with the other alien women accosting him today.

"Why did it have to be us; why Earth?" Xavier demanded; still fighting with his own dick. Rapture's proximity wasn't helping any. She was clearly a Venus, with a curious likeness to a molasses-misted Sofia Vergara, dipped in gold-dust. A bizarre black-blond exotic fantasy. In the sunlight, her hair cast highlights in the colors of sunset.

"Because Earth is my home." She stated matter-of-factly.

"No... There's nothing like you from here, you must be alien." He was trying to be deliberately adversarial - it seemed the best way to combat the covetous instinct to force himself between her taut thighs in the name of carnal release. Part of the reason he'd hoped in with her was because - as a Venus she had no direct mind-bending powers; she was simply glitteringly gorgeous in a way that defied nature. But he could resist! Xavier didn't have to give in to the gut-twisting hunger to seize her like a piece of pirate-booty that he might conquer her with his cock. "You're something else; from somewhere else. Where did you really come from?"

"We came from men. From the eternal male urge to sire his seed into every fertile female he can. Where an opportunity exists; nature will find a way to exploit it."

"Wh- that doesn't make sense."

"Before men, there were no human memories. Instinct without words. There was simply the desire the sperm."

Xavier rolled his eyes.

"We all remember the sea. A coast. There was a man; younger - college aged. This man, our first man - he would masturbate three - sometimes five times a day. In various places. Through his seed, we Became."

The Lamborghini made a sharp turn, heading downtown.

Xavier was starting to get it.

"You masqueraded as women to get this kid's jizz?"

"Masquerade suggests intent. Planning. It was not until our Ancestor *was* a woman that an idea like that made sense.

"The First man never questioned waking up to a strange woman in his bed - his dick was too hard. It didn't matter where we came from - he just fucked us. Our ancestor. It was a victory for him. The how didn't matter.

"What do you mean - *us*?" Xavier wondered.

"There was a first Ancestor; we share her memories. What she knew was shared when she became the first Harem. His words. TV. Playboy. Cosmo. We learned to think as women. To fuck."

Given enough time, they would be smarter than any man alive, Xavier knew. All the better to seduce you with...

"In ten generations a ship... a yacht came to the shore where the Man's beach house was. The harem was too large for the small house; and we were women enough to attract the man on the boat. Three of us went."

On a ship they would have mobility, they could spread to so many beaches... Xavier realized with a frown.

"The Yacht man was old, but rich. There were twenty-four of us by the time we learned about death."

He shook his head.

"Heart failure, you fucked him to death. The first casualty." Xavier sighed.

"He never told us to stop. And he enjoyed every minute of it. That was when we knew we needed to find many men, to spread out."

"Well not me, I won't go down without a fight."

"We've never raised a hand in anger. My kind is peaceful."

That, he realized was also a weapon: Not a direct threat, no need to retaliate. Until men spawned so many that fighting back was impossible. It worked.

"From your tone and body language, it's clear you want to blame us. You think we 'invaded' you. But for our part, we know that man's lust created us. And we reward our men every day of their lives."

The car sped past a gaggle of Sirens on a street corner.

This... gave him food for thought. Rapture's narrative left a lot of holes, but he could read between the lines. Who planned the Black Plague? Was syphilis anyone's plot? Sometimes in nature, different factors line up in the right way, at the right time, and you have a breakout moment. An Epidemic. The ultimate venereal disease.

"Don't be alarmed, Xavier. Don't think I'm going to hurt you." That was when she started to pump his cock, while revving the engine. The brilliance of the plan struck him even as his dick grew harder still - in a speeding sports car, trying to fight back, jumping out would be too dangerous; she could jerk him off with one hand, keep the other on the wheel.

"Something you should know about me..." Her voice rose to compete with the wind. "The Mayor's house is a huge seraglio. Eight men in total comfort. Mayor and his staff are treated the same by the harems. Money doesn't matter to us."

More proof they weren't human! He reflected ruefully.

"And I can have all of their cocks. I have valuable skills; bring in a lot of money for the seraglio. So I get priority access to the dicks of the Mayor and his male staff, and wealthy friends.

"That means I'm not desperate. I can get sperm when I need it. Not like these street dwellers. Then I realized that some men are better than others.

"Men like you."

Xavier swallowed. He should have tried something, anything... but damn - he wanted to cum; and they couldn't enslave him with a handjob? Could they?

"Jusssst a handjob, just relax..." He gripped her arm but - damn he needed to cum! He didn't... didn't pull her hand away.

"I don't want just any man," Rapture continued. "Some of us watch you. You specifically. The men that are still holding out draw attention."

"mmmmnnnhhh..." damn, her hands felt good!

"We know about you, your mission. The work you do. It... excites me! Not just a man, I choose you, Xavier Cecilman!"

"N-noo..." but it felt goooood! The car slowed, lessening the wind which allowed her to talk in a lower tone.

"Shall I tell you about my dreams? They're about you." Her thumb teased the tip of his raging dick. Xavier moaned.

"You've pulled me away from my harem, because you crave my body so much. In your penthouse, you pin me against the wall, and I can see the skyline behind you; as you hike up my dress. I can feel your hands gripping my wrist, like now - and you take me harrrrrd. Hard and ruthless because you just wanna cum... inside meeee!" With her other hand, she reached inside her dress - between her thighs.

"So easy... to get wet for youuuu..." She moaned. Rapture braced her knee against the steering wheel, guiding the Lamborghini as she performed sex acts with either hand. "You just need to cummm... inside me! You overpower me with your male strength. Helpless; dominated by your virile force! I... am impaled by the power of the pleasure of your ramrod cock as you SLAM your seed into meeeee!!" She removed her hand from her own cunt and whacked the car's horn. "I... am a sacrificial victim, offered up to the spurting power of your male lust!!" Her brow furrowed as she writhed her desire.

Xavier roared, at long last - his long-suffering cock at last unleashing his white-hot reward against the glove compartment. Release. Delight. The shivering afterglow of satisfied endorphins.

And She didn't move. Just smiled at him.

"Y-you, you're not going to..."

"To feast on your sperm like a junkie dying of thirst? No." She pulled the Lamborghini into the parking lot of a closed toddler and maternity store. Then straddled his lap.

"I don't want more sperm, I can get sperm. I want the Man! Not just his dick!" With that, her blue-violet eyes glinted, and she began kissing him furiously; making a sensual cooing sound. That gave him pause - a SheMorph passing up sperm?

Put still, the risks... the cost.

"No, I won't give you-"

"Instead of telling me what you won't do - first you should listen to what I have to say."

Rapture held up an I-pad and opened a clip.

"Remember when I said that some of my sisters watch you? Well they do more than that - we've picked up I.T. skills from some of our studs, and they've managed to hack the security system in your building."

His eyes widened, "What the FUCK! But... wait... if you're telling me that then -"

"Then it means I'm willing to warn you about a breach in your security. You're worried about one of us infiltrating your... unique business." The portion of the clip displayed on screen was the elevator leading up to Xavier's personal suite. A woman wearing high-heel shoes entered; but from this camera angle - he couldn't hope to identify her.

"But that's already happened. By watching your camera feeds, we can prove that one of us is on the inside already."

His blue eyes widened; this... could be big. That really was his elevator. Somehow, the SheMorphs really did have someone inside. In the end, Xavier knew he'd been a fool; thinking he could live in the city still, with so many of them. They would just keep at it. As man after man succumbed to the pleasure of a harem, the competition for the few holdouts would only escalate.

But he'd escaped their clutches when they'd gotten in each other's way in their pursuit of him. Maybe it could work again. Besides, Xavier had been thinking that maybe he was going about things all wrong...

"What do you want?"

Rapture slid out of her cocktail dress, teasing with progressive exposure of her Double-D handfuls and a taut, chocolatey body. Sofia Vergara face shaded seductively by a blond flow of hair.

"You want me to fuck you." He could do that. You could fuck a SheMorph once, and stay sane. But then, that's probably what the General had thought. Xavier understood the problem with Venuses: Exhaustion. It just got to be too much of a burden holding back the throbbing urge to fuckrape one of them.

"No."

"Wait? No?"

"I told you; I don't just want a dose of your sperm, soon - but not yet."

"Then..."

"My breasts. See how high, perky and fertile they are? We're all so fertile, all the time. I'll give you the password to unlock the recording... if you suck the milk from my breasts!"

Xavier gasped. That was how they trapped you! But... she wasn't an Ambrosia. All SheMorphs lactated, but Venus' didn't specialize in it. They were simply glittering goddesses of radiant glamour. Not an Ambrosia, it should be possible to stay sane.

"Of course, you could conquer me. Fuck your seed into me, and take me back home as your concubine. We have an instinct that compels us to defer to the man that provides us with sperm." She offered with a cunning smile.

A trap.

Perhaps he wasn't thinking clearly. Perhaps it was the blowjob from Blush, combined with the pheromones from the breeding blonde. Or the unfortunate fact that her chiseled supermodel glamor was just so... exhausting! It was taking more and more energy to fight his instincts and not give in.

So he placed his lips upon her plump, dark nipples - and began to suck. Rapture cooed, and stroked his hair. She hadn't specified how long he had to partake from her bounty, because that was up to him.

Before the invasion, anyone able to bottle this up would put Ben & Jerry's, StarBucks, and Baskin Robbins out of business. The question was, after tasting her feminine nectar could he stop himself from sucking her dry? He might as well be drinking creamed cocaine.

He knew the risks; you take a SheMorph home, she fucks you - serves you - doses your food with her milk; and the sex hormones that turn a man into a rutting sperm fountain. By the time a man realizes the trap he's fallen into - he's already addicted to her milk, and can't go two hours without raping his sperm into her. Next thing he knows, his bedroom has become a strip club, and HE would be the one forever bereft of pants.

Already he could feel his balls tingling. No matter what else did or didn't happen today his cock would be larger come morning. Harder. Hornier. More sperm. More lust.

Just as the aliens wanted.

With a roar he disengaged. Shuddering with the pleasure of her narco-lactation. Sickened by the realization that the sexual yearnings he was failing to suppress would be even stronger tomorrow.

Rapture postured, bending her arms behind her blond head, thrusting her still-moist boobs into view, cooing her own rapture. Giving milk gave them sexual pleasure; probably everything did. Not an Ambrosia, but her breasts seemed to plump up just then; shadows darkening on the way to her navel as she crept up a cup size to entice him to finish what he started. She'd be watching closely; learning the boob size that would best arouse his lusts.

"Surrrre that's all you want?"

"G-give me the information." He demanded, flushed - balls throbbing as he felt his sperm-count increasing even then.

She unlocked her I-pad, pulled up the entire video - hacked from his building's own security system.

"No way..."

"It's your own feed."

"Lies... gotta be... can't be!"

"You always knew. Always knew it was her."

**********

One Week Later...

In baggy sweats, Xavier strode towards the elevator; passing rows of windows looking out over the city skyline. The entire building; this skyscraper was his. It was a rare serendipity that put him at the top of the new economic pyramid created by the Invasion.

So here he was, in front of the elevator door. He no longer cared how much January protested. She had no reason to get all high-and-mighty anymore.

But it was still difficult to take that final plunge. But his plan was sound - or at least, the best he could do; given the circumstances. He was too attractive, too much a prize. No way to go back to a normal life - he didn't even know what that would look like these days.

The SheMorphs would get to him eventually. He often speculated on which Strain would be the most interesting to succumb to. But no; he had another idea. What he wanted to avoid was being besotted by some random street-walker and be whisked away to some far-off Seraglio to ejaculate his life away and never contribute anything to the world but a few hundred more SheMorphs. No... he needed to avoid that fate.

There was a mad audacity to his plan. The SheMorph population was projected to reach a billion worldwide soon; repression didn't work. The militaries that resisted them only served to provide breeding grounds for more seductive variants. We could fight them, but it only took one man. The Last SheMorph on Earth only needed one man to shelter her, mate with her. In a year, as his cock enhanced he could breed a hundred others. They were as smart as us, maybe more so. And with modern transportation, the World would be their Bordello. Just one man willing to fuck a supermodel nymphomaniac and their kind could not be wiped out.

No... He could make the new world order work for him - instead of fighting the sexy, sexy, tide.

But this was a very special elevator. There was a small screen built into the wall next to it. A necessity. Of course his business was infiltrated by SheMorphs - always had been.

But this was the first time he considered violating his own precautions. Any woman entering this elevator would be presented with a series of advertisements on another built-in screen on the left wall. Soon enough, it would flash an image of a man dropping his pants with a steel-hard nine-inch cock.

None of them, not even the savvy ones could resist it. The lust cut both ways. The General couldn't keep his dick in his pants, (while he had them) and they couldn't keep their boobs in their tops. So their breasts would grow - often just a cup size; lips might plump, a coo of yearning - an invisible burst of mind-melting sex-musk, or her ass might plump up. Delicate sensors would detect it - and the elevator would open into a second lobby far away from any hope of a cock, and the SheMorph would be give a 'don't call us, we'll call you' excuse.

Xavier's cell rang. It was Agnes.

"HCG's came back. Six more confirmed."

"Cayman accounts."

"Done."

"Better you never would've believed it ten years ago." Agnes supplied.

No, he never would have imagined that he could get paid for impregnating women.

Human women. It was getting seriously difficult to find a man - any man willing to go through the dating game. Why bother, when SheMorphs were throwing themselves at anyone with a hard dick? Then, it got hard to find any man at all. Normal women were banding together in their own tight-knit circles, it wasn't clear what the future would hold. Then there were the 'married' women who realized that they'd been sleeping with the enemy for months, while their real husbands had cocked out for a harem. It started out for the rich, but Xavier was thinking of ways to expand.

And SheMorphs; they worked for sperm.

Another call, from January. He ignored it. She had no right; not after what happened.

The screen inside the elevator showed a familiar face. From McDonald's, it was Vixen. The redheaded siren. She wasn't being seductive really, she'd been crying - there was a desperation about her. Watching her for a time, Xavier came away with the impression that this was simply a last-ditch effort - at survival.

There were hierarchies among SheMorphs, and he had to conclude Vixen was on the low end. It was still possible to see a man on the street for now, but the big Seraglios were building well organized operations to follow, isolate, and seduce them - as he'd seen with the Japanese Businessman, and Nebraska boy. Many SheMorphs just couldn't compete with the big man-hunting teams.

This was her last hope. A pity fuck?

But Xavier - his plans were bigger than that.

She was on him as soon as the elevator opened. Moaning, kissing, pathetically grateful. Able to sense his hard-dicked desires through the walls. Melon-tits erupted from her blouse as she stripped away her silky pretense of civility.

"Bear your seed, I'll bear your seed, I'm already your fuckslave!" She moaned.

Xavier nuzzled her tender throat and shoulders, pinning her to the elevator wall - meaty hand struggling to hold her voluminous boobs. His gut twisted with desire; she seemed to understand the stage of contamination he was at, her words sinking into his subconscious.

Women. They should bear his seed.

He wanted to suck on her nipples; but he had something to get out before risking the intoxication of her sex-milk.

Her panties were already around her ankles as Xavier's probing fingers found her sex. Her drenching sex.

"We need to talk."

"I am the vessel of your male des-"

"Sperm," He interrupted. That got her attention. "But you have to work for it." She nodded, but she got his attention too - where a human would be skin and bones, a starving SheMorph was a vivid sight. She needed genetic material to grow and survive, without it -

Her bouncy red hair shimmered into night-black with red tips, then blond tips, as her eyes flashed blue, hazel, then green on the left and violet on the right. And her tits; plumping up even as he fondled her. Xavier could feel the skin sliding past his palms as Vixen lost control over her body's breast-inflating fertility impulse.

Without the genetic material from a man's seed - her body didn't know what to be. She was losing control of her shapeshifting powers. A panoply of women. Pinning her, raging cock teasingly poised before her juicing cunt he made his proclamation: