Seductrix

NOTE: All characters are at least age 18. Inspired by a back to back viewing session of Slither and Terminator.

*****

Amanda read her book in silence by the warm orange light of dusk. Her back against a tree, she did not see the curious way the leaves behind her swirled up off the ground like helixes of green. But she did sense something.

The hairs on her neck stood on end, stray locks floated up from her head and fresh ozone drifted in the air. It smelled like electricity. Gusts of wind blew across her face... and only her face, her direction. Before she could turn around to make sense of these oddities, the air exploded with a thunder crack.

She screamed, dropping her book as she scampered away from the tree. Branches snapped off and leaves went up in flames, like little wavering fingers of golden orange. She turned around just in time to witness what happened behind the tree.

Concentrated lightning strikes smashed into some invisible barrier beyond the tree, illuminating the barrier's curved shape as it expanded. At first Amanda took it for a sphere, but the way it rippled and folded... it almost seemed like a glass vagina had materialized in the air, invisible but for the fires and lightning it reflected.

This all seemed terribly familiar to Amanda, as if she'd seen it before in some book or movie, but before she could ponder where, the sight of what emerged from the warp stole her breath away. A woman came out of the center of the reflective folds, not kneeling, but sauntering, tall and imperious.

Amanda flushed pink in embarrassment at her nude figure, or perhaps it was embarrassment at being so far outclassed. No girl at school was in a league of this woman. She wouldn't be surprised if she had that effect on the whole planet.

The woman's delicate face scanned from side to side, her eyes almost blank, never even flicking over to Amanda. Her hair reached down to her wide, breeding hips, the smooth tresses carrying the light of the sun, the glitter of gold and the vividness of a forest fire. Amanda had never seen such a shade of blonde before.

Her eyes drifted up the woman's sculpted mid-section, her smooth belly glistening with sweat. Amanda's eyes widened when she took in the full splendor of the woman's breasts. Tanned to golden perfection, they had the size and heft of watermelons but the pert shape of teardrops. Even without jiggling, the way the woman turned in the light showed her enormous breasts had no bad angle.

Which is when Amanda caught sight of this mystery woman's jutting ass. Ripe and plump, perfectly curved buttocks swept down to her lush thighs and smooth legs. Her scan completed, the woman jutted her hip out and gave Amanda a look with her bright emerald eyes.

Amanda met her gaze, and the woman's eyes flashed green. Every consideration of running away died with that light. Amanda's eyes dilated and her hands grew slack, her posture slumped. "Ho... h-how... you..." she slurred, trying to ask if this was some kind of prank, wondering if such a woman as this could even be real.

The woman stepped forward, the gigantic slopes of her tits swaying at Amanda's eye level. "Age: 18. Pheromone analysis concludes you are fertile. I conclude you are for seduction." Her eyes traveled down Amanda's uniform. "Religion: Abrahamic derivation, Catholic sub-group."

"Wha-whaaa..." Amanda swayed on her feet, drool leaking from her lips.

The woman gripped Amanda by the head and brought her within kissing distance, her burning green eyes searing into the school girl's glassy gaze. "Expanding network." The words made no sense to Amanda and her dizzy head lolled forward. Her face slipped through the woman's hands and in between the lush globes of her bosom, her skin softer than air, her warmth gentle.

And then the schoolgirl felt the most peculiar tingling enter her. It started with a slight tickle on her belly, and then spread... hot and deep into her flesh, inflaming her womanhood, twisting through her nerves and lighting her up with rapture. Streams of drool ran from Amanda's slack mouth, her animalistic moans muffled into the woman's giant golden breasts.

Then she knew... the network had expanded.

***

Cynthia Mason studied the photos on her monitor. "I don't know where even to begin, Rebecca." she said to her friend through her earpiece. "Could be something put out by DAARPA. The wounds... they're so clean... like something super heated just cut right through them. But that's a bit beyond my scope of work, you see. "

It's beyond everyone's scope of work, Cynthia. The cops are freaked. Feds were all over the place and no one knows what to make of it, all we've got are some bodies and some killer burns,

said Rebecca from the other end of the line.

Anyway, I've gotta go. Still up for our Friday run?

"Yep." said Cynthia as she zoomed in on the grisly photos, wincing as she imagined what those poor souls went through in their final seconds.

See ya.

Cynthia clicked the button on her earpiece and terminated the line. Strange happenings had populated the news as of late. Twelve incidences of spontaneous explosions and power outages over the past year, each one followed by a murder spree.

Cynthia thought there might be a pattern to them, but that was for Rebecca to find out, being the police reporter. She was the ballistics specialist, the one Rebecca came to for an unofficial opinion. The official prognosis, strange as it was, was that the chaos was all caused by some underground cult.

Many of the murderers had tattoos of a giant wolf head, a mailed fist caught between its jaws. And like all good cultists, spoke of a future war, an apocalyptic conflict, justifying their murders as saving future lives.

A cult that somehow has access to advanced weaponry. This world is getting so fucked up,

thought Cynthia.

Cynthia's interest in the matter turned to intrigue when Rebecca passed on rumors that some of the killers weighed as much as a small car, the first one taking more than 200 rounds to bring down. Even on angel dust, Cynthia knew a normal man would have turned into hamburger from all that firepower.

"Hope it was worth it, Becca." she said aloud as she scrolled through pictures of the victims. "Hope I'm up to it... and figure this damn thing out."

She could only imagine who her friend had to bribe to get this kind of access. Before she could ponder any longer, a solitary knock resounded on her front door. She fumbled with her keyboard and turned off her monitor

"Coming!" she said, rushing into the living room, so flustered she didn't bother to check who it was before opening the door.

When she swung the door open, she wasn't sure if she was supposed to be alarmed or amused. "It's a little early for Halloween, sweety."

Though that has got to be one of the most authentic Catholic schoolgirl get-ups I've ever seen.

The woman before her was voluptuous and golden, her huge breasts like overripe honeysuckle melons on the verge of falling out of her sweater. Her too-high skirt showed off thick and supple thighs that glistened with something Cynthia wasn't sure was sweat.

"I know!" the girl said bubbly, her immense tits wobbling to her excitement. Her long tresses simmered with celestial light, so golden they seemed to cast their own light.

I need to know what conditioner she uses. Wow.

"I'm just a little lost and was wondering if I could come in for some tea? I'm from the Our Lady of Peace school, by the way."

Cynthia eyed her up and down in disbelief.

Our Lady of the Pole is more like it.

The girl was far too womanly to still be going to that school. "Woah... you just don't come up and ask a woman for tea. This ain't Canada. It's a little weird, actually." The schoolgirl more suited to be a stripper gave her a doe eyed look and squeezed her books closer to her chest, pressing up the swells of her cleavage into large bosomy mounds. "What's your name?"

"Everyone calls me Sunny!" she beamed.

Of course.

Though something seemed terribly off about her. Beyond the fact that she looked like some porn star playing dress-up... her eyes didn't crinkle with her smile.

They're almost blank.

The girl sensed the apprehension Cynthia had over her eyes. "What?" she said, her voice no longer so girlish.

And then Cynthia saw it. A circular tattoo on the side of the girl's neck, featuring a woman cloaked in raven feathers, her large pale breasts bared. And wrought in the same style as the cultist's wolf tattoos. Just when Cynthia felt like shutting the door, she stopped. Sunny's eyes then radiated stark green illumination, and Cynthia felt her hands grow numb, her breath dissipate. "Oh god..."

Cynthia slammed the door in the girl's face before she became more insensate.

It really is a cult! Should have never gotten involved!

One second later the schoolgirl launched her fist through the door, and opened it from the outside. "Cynthia Mason." she intoned. "Your time has come."

Cynthia screamed and ran for her kitchen knife.

By the time she pulled out something threatening, the strange schoolgirl was already in the house. Her shirt sagged down more than ever, showing off the massive swells of her breasts. Cynthia held the knife right in front of her while her other hand reached blindly for her cordless phone. "I'm gonna call the fuckin' cops! Do

not

fuck with me!"

She tried to sound tough and held back terrified tears, but just barely.

The fake schoolgirl smiled and stepped closer, her tremendous cleavage jiggling more than Cynthia thought humanly possible. "No. You won't. The line is dead."

Cynthia whimpered. She didn't need to pick up the phone to know that truth. "Just... leave... I'll give you anything... anything you want..."

The schoolgirl inclined her head to the side and hope rose in Cynthia's heart.

"No."

Sunny dashed forward with preternatural speed, punching out Cynthia's knife and lifting her up from the floor by the neck. The woman screamed in squirmed. One of Sunny's nails pinched in to Cynthia's throat and a small sting followed.

Cynthia yelped and immediately felt the power in her limbs fade. But her feeling had not. Sunny pitched her onto her leather couch like a lover come for a secret rendezvous. Cynthia's heart pounded and her eyes shot wide in terror.

Sunny laid her twitching body out upon the couch and then leaned in for a kiss. Cynthia's whines were muffled, while Sunny moaned into her mouth with utmost softness. The green eyed temptress's succulent globes hung low, grazing Cynthia's arm with their lush and weighty warmth.

Cynthia felt a new weight as Sunny straddled her. The woman's thighs splayed out from under her skirt and over Cynthia's waist, tanned and glistening like the rest of her body. Cynthia thought she saw small and dim currents of emerald light course underneath the woman's radiant complexion... they were in lines... straight lines, more like the kind seen on circuit boards than veins.

At once she knew what she was dealing with. But she was far too numbed to do anything but twitch and shudder as the cybernetic creature ripped off her skirt, revealing a bare and glistening pubic mound, swollen with arousal.

Strange and discordant sounds emanated from Sunny's mouth, her green eyes lighting up once more in hues of digital jade.

Cynthia whimpered in terror as the robust woman pulled up her shirt. Gigantic breasts rolled out from underneath the cloth, trembling and tanned to perfection. Beneath those improbably large mounds laid the smooth expanse of her taut belly, writhing with erotic urgency to some rhythm known only to Sunny.

"Preparing organic vessel for cyber interfacing."

Metallic tendrils slithered out of the voluptuous woman's belly button. Cynthia sobbed. They soon tickled her skin, gliding along her flesh with frightening speed. Her attacker threw her head back and moaned as more of her smooth yet mechanical coils reached across Cynthia's stomach, her huge and round breasts jiggling to her ecstasy.

Cynthia's stomach drew in and out to her gasps, the prickling of the tentacles disturbing yet exquisite. She squealed when the silvery threads funneled into her soft belly. Her entire body went rigid as strange chemical compounds raced through the coils, pumping into her helpless flesh. Her attacker fell over her, sighing with orgasmic satisfaction as her heavy, lush globes bobbed against Cynthia's face.

"Vessel primed for nanobot restructuring. Engage reprogramming." said Sunny, her voice dripping with desire, the pleasure of fulfilling her purpose saturating every inch of her synthetic form.

Her fingers weaved through Cynthia's hair and locked around her skull. Cynthia still gasped and writhed beneath her busty violator, her body so overloaded with stimulation it could not process what was to happen next. Low energetic pulses from the woman's hands washed across her head, scrambling her thoughts as much as her nervous system.

Cynthia's eyes rolled back into her head and gurgled in spasmodic pleasure, her body even more convulsive against the woman's as an avalanche of pleasure descended through her flesh. Her attacker smiled and steadied herself even more against her body, resting the smothering slopes of her bronzed tits around Cynthia's face.

More metallic tendrils descended from her body, uncoiling from her vagina and slithering down to Cynthia's. The effect was immediate. Cynthia's legs and hips went from spasming to thrusting, her pussy instinctively contracting around her penetrator. Her ass cheeks flexed with each bounce against her violator, her body desperate for more invasive nanobots and pleasure.

The cyborg smiled and moaned as she held Cynthia close. The transforming woman's sexual rhythm was aggressive and uncoordinated, her flopping on the couch and slurred delirious moans all signs that resistance had been all but obliterated. Soon however, the cyborg knew the nanobots teeming inside Cynthia's weak flesh would implant new techniques and new methods of seduction to arouse the primal lusts of both sexes.

Cynthia's simple brown eyes flashed in a blast of fiery green light while her lips grew more pouting and supple, shrieking her delight in tones unknown to anything living. Mind and personality both were overwritten in the throes of orgasm, the cybernetic tendrils in her brain introducing orders and obedience as if they were another set of programs to be uploaded.

Silvery threads engineered from another age spread through her flesh, wrapping around muscle and increasing strength, seeping into her breasts and glutes and expanding their size into carnal proportions, reshaping them into inhuman perfection. Before long her breasts propelled in size to rival Sunny's titanic and bronzed pair of globes, only a little smaller, held back by the bounds of her original humanity.

Cynthia's new tits squeezed against those of her cybernetic ravisher. Olive toned and ample, beneath her rounded out mounds glowed the strands from within, dim and diffused. More thick metallic tentacles entered her from Sunny's vagina, ceaseless in their quest to scourge every last bit of humanity from her body.

She went rigid in rapture and her body leaned up from the couch. The tendrils from the base of her spine to her brain stem had connected, completing the circuit. She slumped back down to the couch, hugging Sunny closer. She moaned and scissored with the busty cyborg, her skin developing its own supple sheen until they slid upon each other as if bathed in oil.

Another orgasm wound down and Cynthia let loose the most satiated sigh. Her hands clutched the smooth and moist hemispheres of Sunny's satin ass cheeks. "Network expanded. Adjunct operative to Freyja model Infiltrator series." said Cynthia, her voice as dead as her eyes.

Sunny leaned back, her nerve responders still tingling from the aftermath of successfully executing her purpose. "Another hour of assimilation will fix your vocal apparatus. Currently compromised for deceiving Rebecca Venner."

"Affirmative." replied Cynthia, her eyes no longer like emerald stars, but flecked green within her irises.

Sunny's immense teardrop breasts billowed to her artificial breath. "Once complete you will subsume her into the network. Future conflict negated. Mission accomplished."

A simple smile stretched Cynthia's face. "That is my purpose."

***

Rebecca Venner sat in her car and massaged the stiletto in her hand. It was the only thing small enough to steal, everything else from the previous crime scenes being too exotic and large. The blade could almost pass as a human finger, but for the gleaming nail-shaped blade.

She checked her make-up in her rear-view mirror. Short red hair framed a lightly tanned face, her cheeks a ruddy hue from the fall weather. Beneath her neck hung a silver heart, resting upon her rise of soft cleavage. In another life, she might have been a model.

But a different passion called to her.

She jumped to the knocks on her window. Her cheeks blushed even more when she saw who it was. It was none other than Michael, her boyfriend, laughing. She popped open the door and lightly punched his arm. "Don't do that!"

"Why? Was the finger so compelling?" he said, pointing to her strange weapon.

She looked at the thing in her hand and smirked. "Well apparently this bad boy sent some poor kid into a heart attack. Some kind of bioelectric pulse. Brought it along to see if it might do anything..."

"Oh... and what are you expecting it to do here?"

"Don't know yet."

Maybe light up? Shoot some steam?

"It might be nothing. Might be no connection between the murders and tree... but I doubt it." She looked over his shoulder and saw some barely legal sexpot regarding her from across the street. "Looks like you got a stalker." The girl was wearing a black raincoat tight against her body, but not even all her layers could conceal the prominence of her jutting breasts. Her chestnut locks gleamed with the luster of a fresh salon appointment, her face like air brushed perfection; cheeks high and sparkling bedroom eyes.

"Hey be nice. My stalker's ain't that hot. That's our contact." He looked over his shoulder and gave the girl a nod. She smiled back more than Rebecca liked. And then she did something Rebecca hated. She unzipped her coat, and her ample breasts bounced in turn, casting shadows against her baby blue shirt. "And our story." He was a writer like Rebecca, but not covering the police.

"Said she saw the whole thing." he continued. "Tree went up in flames, 'air turned to glass'... her words... and a naked woman walked out."

"Mm-hmm." Rebecca was still staring at the girl, out of some compulsion she couldn't place. She thought she smelled something along the breeze, something sweet... something primal. The deeper she breathed, the more she panted. The girl was outrageously stacked for any woman, much less a girl fresh out of her teens, but even so, she should not have provoked such a reaction. Her skin grew warmer and her eyes dilated, while a certain throb developed between her legs.

Michael's finger snapped in front of her eyes. "Hey! Pay attention. We are the luckiest journalists in the world right now. Somehow, I don't even know how its fucking possible... but we got this tree to ourselves. And her. That's exclusivity you can't buy. I don't know why this place ain't crawling with journos and cops, but I don't look a gift horse in the mouth."

"Uh yeah. Right. Sorry." She broke her gaze away from the girl and looked up to the tree around the hill. "Shall we?"

The two ascended the hill, all the way Rebecca couldn't shake the girl out of her mind. The smooth, sweeping lines of her hips, every contour of her toned legs shown through her poured in place pants and of course... those luscious, watermelon sized breasts.

Shaped like a literal hourglass. No way that's natural. Must be surgery.

Every step she took, her strange arousal became muted, but no less present, like a constant pulsing between her legs while perspiration dappled between her breasts.

But that young? She can't be more than twenty.