Alex in Pornoland

This is filed under Sci-Fi & Fantasy because it's set in an alternate world. It will, though, heavily feature incest, big tits and big dicks like most of my stuff. And, as always, everyone involved is at least 18.

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My name is Alex Taylor. I had an accident and I woke up in a world where every woman looks like they've stepped out of an early 90's issue of Score magazine. Am I in a coma? Am I mad? Or have I died and gone to heaven? Whatever the hell has happened, it's like I'm on a different planet. With a bit of luck, if I can work out what the fuck is going on, maybe I can get back to the real world. If I want to, that is.

† † † † †

I was awake early the next morning, dressed and out of the house without my mother or sister spotting me. I couldn't face them after yesterday when I'd let them jack me off under the pretence of showering me because of my broken arm. While they'd been more than up for it, I felt guilty for asking them to make me cum and as much as I enjoyed the sight of them sucking me off together before taking a huge facial from me, I was still left thinking it was wrong.

I'm sure anyone looking at this from the outside would be thinking "You're an asshole. Your mother and sister and smoking hot, big titted pornstars who want you to fuck them - - and you still think that's wrong. Just fuck them, already."

I'm sure those people would love to put themselves in my shoes but I'm the one stuck here in the New World, trying to work out what the fuck has happened to me. One minute I'm a struggling, small dicked actor with an overbearing - - and overweight - - mother and sister, the next I'm waking up from a coma to find myself a huge cocked pornstar myself with, like the naysayers said, a mother and sister who are also in the porn business and who can't wait for me to bang them.

As far as working out what's going on, my best bet was Daphne, a mysterious girl I'd met the other day and who obviously knew more about this weird fucking world than I did. So, like I said, I sneaked out of our mansion - - yes, we live in a mansion - - walked down the drive, hooked out the card she'd given me and dialled her number.

"Hi Daphne? It's Alex - - Alex Taylor. You gave me your card the other day."

"Alex Taylor the confused young man, not Alex Hazard the pornstar?" she asked with a throaty laugh. Alex Hazard, I'd discovered, was my pornstar stage name. "Let me guess - - some weird shit's happened and you want to talk?"

"Yeah, that's pretty much it," I said.

"Okay, that's what I'm here for. Get a cab and head for Gold's Coffee House on Savannah Drive. I'll meet you there in half an hour or so."

And with that, she was gone. I used the phone's browser to find a cab company and, twenty minutes later, I was sat outside Gold's Coffee House in the early morning sunshine with the rest of the breakfast crowd, sipping a great mug of coffee.

It was quite relaxing to sit and watch this strange New World go by as it looked so normal on the face of it - - men and women wandered past on their way to work, chatting with each other or on their own, some of them making phone calls or staring at their phones reading emails or whatever. It really could have passed for the Old World, the place I still remembered - - at least until you started looking a little closer.

Most of the guys were good looking hunks whether they were in business suits or, like me, in shorts and a baggy T-shirt. All the cars were top of the range sports and saloons with not a dent, a scratch or a busted light to be seen. There was no litter on the streets anywhere, no empty coffee cups or discarded newspapers. The sun was shining in the perfect blue sky even this early in the day but the temperature was just right.

And the women - - Jesus, the women.

Every one of them - - from the teenager serving me coffee behind the counter to the police woman on the traffic island directing cars - - from the business women walking up and down the street on their way to work to the cleaning lady just finishing her shift in the store across the road - - every one of them could have walked off a porn set. They were all stunningly good looking, blessed with model class looks atop killer bodies where even the most restrictive clothing couldn't hide the huge tits that either nature or a surgeon had blessed them with.

I had to make a concerted effort not to look at them too much for fear of my monster cock tenting my shorts and punching through the material.

"Good morning, Alex," Daphne said as she arrived at my table, making me jump in surprise. "Taking in the scenery?"

She sat at the table and ordered a coffee when the gorgeous, busty waitress appeared to take her order.

"I have to admit the scenery's fantastic," I said, making no effort to hide the fact I was staring at her tits as they thrust against her tight T-shirt. Daphne, like every other woman around here, looked like a hugely titted pornstar - - a little chunkier around the hips if I was honest, but still gorgeous.

The waitress returned with Daphne's coffee and left us to talk.

"Well don't get excited," Daphne said. "Unlike most girls you'll meet round here, I'm not going to have sex with you at the drop of a hat, no matter how big that cock of yours is."

"As disappointing as that is, I'm not surprised. I figured you were different when you knew I wasn't from around here." I sipped at my coffee. "How did you know that, anyway?"

Daphne smiled and pushed her sun glasses up on to her head, exposing her gorgeous blue eyes which, with her blonde hair, gave her the look of a Nordic goddess.

"Before we get into that, a couple of questions for you. Tell me about yourself, your old self. What were you doing in your old life? What happened to you before you woke up here?"

I told her briefly of my past, the struggling actor, my home life, the car accident and then waking from my coma in the hospital to find my new situation. Before I knew it, I was telling her of my pornstar mom and sister, their desire to fuck me and my reluctance to play along - - at least up until the incident in the shower the evening before.

"That's a story I've heard more than once, at least in general terms," Daphne said. "Do you remember anything bad happening to one of the American Presidents in the 60's?" she asked out of the blue.

"Ummm, yeah - - Kennedy was assassinated in '63, I think. Or was it '62? No, '63, I'm sure."

"The world I come from? It was Nixon who was shot in '64."

"The world you come from?" I asked, a little surprised.

"Well, yeah - - you didn't think we were all from the same timeline, did you?"

"I hadn't given it much thought, if I'm honest," I said.

"Okay," Daphne said, sipping at her coffee. "Time to give you some information on this place. As far as we can work out - - and I'll get to who 'we' are in a moment - - this place, this world is some sort of heaven. A heaven created by a breast-obsessed teenager most likely, but a heaven nonetheless. Just about everyone here, we think, died in one way or another and ended up here, living out their new lives as though they're the only ones they've ever had."

"Wait a second," I interrupted. "You mean I'm dead?"

"No, I don't," Daphne said, obviously not pleased that I stopped her. "You, and me for that matter, and a handful of other people over time have woken up here knowing something's not right. You remember your previous life for one thing. That means, as far as we can tell, you're not dead in your old life - - in all likelihood you're in a coma."

"Jesus," I whispered. "So I could get back? Wake up in the Old World?"

"We think so," she said, "though I have to admit it's not certain."

"You keep saying 'we' - - who are you?"

"We're people like you, Alex, people who remember their old lives. There aren't many of us - - maybe two dozen - - but we try and find and help new arrivals like us. Like you."

"How do you find us?" I asked, waving my hand around at the dozens of people in sight and the hundreds if not thousands beyond in the city. "It must be like looking for a needle in a haystack."

"We check the Index," she said with a smile. "We have a handwritten list of all major business men and women, actors and actresses, politicians, royalty and even, as in your case, pornstars. We compare that list with our computerised one and look for differences."

"Sorry, Daphne, I don't understand."

"Let's take your example. If we find a fan of porn in this city - - and trust me, there's thousands of them - - and ask them about you, your mom and your sister, they'll be able to tell us when you all started your careers, the movies you've been in, who you've fucked and who you haven't. When you arrived here, the world rearranged itself to take account of your arrival. It was as if you've always been here.

"Our handwritten list, though, doesn't update. Whoever or whatever's in charge of this place made sure that people's memories, computers, histories and all the rest of that shit was updated when you, or I or anyone else arrives - - but the old fashioned pen and ink systems got missed out. When a famous pornstar like you appears on our computer list but not the handwritten one, we know we have a new arrival and come say hello.

"Most of them don't know any different - - they're fully engaged with this world and, as far as they're concerned, they've always been here. Every now and then we find someone, like you, who remembers the old life they had."

I frowned at her, trying to get it all straight in my head. "So what happens next?"

Before she could answer, the young, busty waitress returned and asked if we wanted more coffee. I declined but Daphne had a refill. Once she'd left us - - with me watching her pert little ass wiggle beneath the tight, short skirt of her uniform, Daphne continued.

"From experience, you have three options. You can embrace your new life, forget me, forget the old life and just become Alex Hazard, pornstar extraordinaire."

"That is sort of tempting," I said with a slightly embarrassed smile.

"Alternatively you could leave that life behind but still stay here as one of us, helping new arrivals who still remember the old world. That would mean leaving this city and your mother and sister behind."

"And the third option?" I asked, not being entirely impressed by that one.

"You try and return to your old life."

"How do I do that?" I asked.

Daphne drank some of her coffee. "You die in this world." I blinked in surprise. "As far as we know, that should get you back to the world you left."

"As far as you know?"

"We can't know for certain, of course, but the few who've done it have never been seen again and, more importantly, disappear from our computerised lists as if they've never existed here. All the evidence points to them getting back to their own worlds."

We looked at each other, Daphne calmly drinking her coffee, me wondering if I was believing all this. Of course, none of what she'd said was any crazier than waking up in a world where I was a big dicked pornstar, my mother and sister had huge tits and incest was legal.

"So who's the skinny guy in black?" I asked, referring to the weird guy who'd approached me twice before, telling me I didn't belong.

"We think they're some sort of defence mechanism for this world. Not police as such, but a way of the world being aware that you don't belong and letting you know it. As time goes on and you don't make a decision one way or the other, you'll find they'll appear more and more often and become a lot more threatening. We think they've forced more than one new arrival to decide whether they want to stay or not."

I thought for a minute or two. "How come they're not following you around?"

"I'm from a different city, originally. I moved here to help the new arrivals. For some reason, the men in black either don't notice you once you move or don't care."

"So I either become Alex Hazard, pornstar - - move out of here and help the new guys - - or risk committing suicide in the hopes it'll take me back to my Old World."

"That's it," Daphne said.

"How long do I have to make up my mind?"

She shrugged, her huge tits jiggling beneath her tight T-shirt. "Kinda hard to say - - time works differently here. For example, your broken arm - - how long before that cast comes off?"

"Almost a week," I said.

We were interrupted by my phone ringing. I hooked it out of my shorts and looked at the screen to find an unknown number calling.

"Hello?" I answered, holding my hand up to apologise to Daphne.

"Ah Mr Taylor," a man's voice said. "So glad to catch you, it's Dr Richards. We've had an opening at the hospital come up so if you're free this morning, we could get that cast off your arm today."

I stared at Daphne who smirked as if she knew what was going on. "Sure, that's fine," I said.

"Good, good, just come to reception and ask for myself and we'll get that taken care of. See you later."

As I ended the phone call, I explained to Daphne who had called me and why. She shrugged.

"Honestly, that sort of thing happens all the time round here, coincidences are a way of life." She drained her coffee. "Come on, I'll give you a lift to the hospital. On the way you can start thinking about what you're going to do. Like I said, the men in black won't give you too long to decide."

† † † † †

With all the talk of decisions and the ramifications of them, the drive to the hospital wasn't exactly light-hearted. Daphne dropped me off and said she'd be in touch - - I did attempt to make a date with her but she proved to be as uninterested in hooking up as my mother and sister were, if you see what I mean.

I walked into the reception of the large hospital building and found myself - - as far as I could see - - on the set of a porno version of General Hospital or Casualty or some other medical based soap opera. Just like the people outside the coffee shop, everyone wandering around - - doctors, nurses, patients, orderlies - - were drop dead gorgeous or handsome and built for one thing.

"Hi there," I said to the pretty, busty receptionist whose blouse was open showing her impressive cleavage. "Can you tell Dr Richards I'm here to get my cast removed?" I asked, indicating my arm.

"Mr Taylor, correct?" she asked, picking up a file from beside her and looking at a post-it note stuck to the front. "Dr Richards left a message to say he was busy and to pass you over to one of his colleagues, a Dr Barnet, if that's okay?"

"Sure, no problem," I said. "Where do I find him?"

The receptionist smiled. "Give me a moment," she said, then bent over to a small microphone - - her blouse opening up even further, her tits almost spilling out - - and said "Paging Dr Barnet, Dr Barnet to reception, please."

I thanked her and waited in reception for a minute or two before the double doors that lead to the wards opened and someone said "Mr Taylor? I'm Dr Barnet."

After everything I'd experienced and the conversation I'd just had with Daphne, I know I shouldn't have been surprised to discover Dr Barnet was a spectacle-wearing, gorgeous, blonde haired, tiny waisted, big titted dream of a woman. Her short skirt showed the hint of stocking tops, her blouse revealed the start of a deep cleavage, and her white lab coat could never have been buttoned up thanks to her huge tits.

She smiled and waved her hand at me to break my very obvious dumb-founded stare, beckoning as I finally snapped out of it.

"Follow me, Mr Taylor, and we'll get rid of that cast for you," she said before turning to the receptionist and taking my file that she held out for her. "Could you page Nurse Meredith for me and send her to room 7?" she asked.

I walked after the doctor as she left reception and took me to room 7, a large examining room off the main corridor. It had a desk and chair and a hospital bed off to one side, along with a trolley with assorted instruments laid out on it.

"Sit on the bed for me, would you Mr Taylor?" the doctor asked, flipping through my file for a moment before putting it on the desk. "Looks like you had a nasty accident," she said. "You got off lightly if all you broke was your arm."

"Yeah, I guess," I said a little stupidly, sneaking glances at her expanse of cleavage when I could.

"You're lucky you didn't break anything else, what with your career," Dr Barnet said with a smile, looking at my crotch. "No need to be coy, Mr Taylor," she said as I stared blankly at her. "I knew all about our famous patient when you were in last week."

"Really?" I asked.

"Oh yes," she said, moving closer, stepping between my legs and running her fingers lightly along the bulge of my cock. "I made a point of calling into your room and - - inspecting you while you slept." She looked at me, her eyes wide behind her glasses. "I hope you don't mind?"

I gulped nervously. "No," I squeaked. "I don't mind," I said, feeling my cock harden and lurch beneath her light touch, the thick length running down my leg beneath my shorts. I sneaked a glance at her big tits that seemed about ready to spill from her blouse.

"You like big boobs, don't you Alex?" she asked me, using her free hand to undo a button on her blouse, her huge tits pushing the sides apart even further, the white lace of her bra now visible. "Do you like mine?"

I nodded dumbly, groaning as she moved her hand to the bottom of my shorts and slid it up, her fingers meeting the spongy, firm head of my cock.

"Dr Barnet?" said a female voice from the door. We both turned to see a dark-haired nurse, as stacked as the doctor, smiling at us. The uniform she wore was not the sort of thing you'd expect to see in a hospital - - except maybe in this crazy world. A sleeveless, white one piece that barely reached the tops of her stockings, it had two straps at the front that tied behind her neck and which left the inner slopes of her big jugs exposed. Elbow length gloves and a tiny hat completed the ridiculous - - but ridiculously hot - - outfit. She tottered over to us on her high heels and watched as the doctor continued playing with my knob head under my shorts.

"Nurse Meredith, good of you to join us," Dr Barnet said. She leaned closer and they kissed in front of me, their lips opening, their tongues diving into each other's mouths. My cock pulsed at the sight and a thick line of pre-cum spurted over the doctor's fingers which she smeared over my knob, gripping my prick and sliding it in and out of her fist. They eventually stopped kissing and looked at me, their eyes shining, each other's spit glistening on their lips.

"Nurse, would you be kind enough to start removing Mr Taylor's cast while I - - distract him?" the doctor said, looking at me the whole time, her fist running up and down the first few inches of my cock, lubricated by my pre-cum.

The nurse walked over to the table and returned with what looked like a motorised pizza cutter: a handle with a circular blade on one end which had a safety guard below it. She slid that guard between my arm and the cast, turning on the blade so it would cut through the plaster without cutting my skin. As it went, though, it pulled on the cast which in turn pulled the hairs out of my arm, making me wince.

"Is this okay, doctor?" the nurse asked, slowly moving the blade along the cast.

"That's fine," the doctor said, undoing my shorts and opening them wide. "But I can see I really need to distract our patient from the pain." She let go of my knob and reached in with both hands, pulling my hard-on free of my shorts, holding it upright. "That's a really big cock, Mr Taylor," she said, running both hands up and down it.

"Jeez, I don't think I've seen one that big before," the nurse said, pausing in her work for a moment.

The doctor looked at me and grinned as she slowly, oh so slowly, bent at the waist, her huge tits almost spilling from her bra. She stuck out her tongue, still staring at me, and slowly licked around the flared knob of my big dick, lapping up the almost constant stream of clear pre-cum that dribbled from the slit. She enveloped the head in her lips and sucked my cock head into her mouth, bobbing up and down, taking more and more into her throat.