The Effervescence Horizon

Chapter 3 - A New Mutation

Benoit woke up, reaching out for Senko before he remembered she had already gone for the airport. Immediately, his cock stood straight up, as he also remembered the bottle he'd brought home from the laboratory. His body shuddered as he returned in his mind to the bizarre and intense experience with the substance the night before. He got out of bed, hair standing up, and went to pick up his bag. The bottle was not there. He turned the bag over and emptied the contents on the floor. Nothing. He ran to the bathroom where he sometimes put experimental samples or extras just for fun. It was empty, as it had been all week. He checked in the shower. Nothing. The running around combined with his huge erection and a growing frustration made him dizzy, so he went ahead and jumped into the shower, and turned the water to cold. After a moment his head cleared and figured he might as well wash off quickly, as he had sweated more than usual during the night. When he reached for the soap, the normal shampoo bottle clattered to the floor. It was empty.

He suddenly realized what had happened. Senko had run out of shampoo in her morning shower, seen the bottle in his bag, and taken it with her. He was angry for a moment, and then two images occurred to him in quick succession. First, he saw Senko getting into the shower in their beach house, pouring the shampoo into her palms and quickly descending into a lathery madness of ecstasy, as he had the night before. This might be the experience that turned her into a lather freak like him. While she enjoyed a massaging hairwash from time to time, she was fussy about her hair and if he put more than a small palmful in, she would politely refuse. Somehow he couldn't push it-he had the feeling she felt objectified by it or something along those lines. He couldn't really complain: her hair was gorgeous and perfect in every way, and they were made for each other in bed (a story for another time!). And that's where Ayisa came in anyway-lather was the glue that held her to him, so to speak. Which brought him to the second image: Ayisa, immersed in a growing ball of foam, her face emerging to scream in apocalyptic pleasure.

A plan formed in his mind. The way he left the lab set up, there should already be about 15 gallons of the substance in the tank. He would ask Ayisa to come by to have some fun at his house since Senko was out of town. It had been a few weeks since she'd come by, and he knew she'd jump at the chance. When she did, he would ask her to do him a favor and stop by the lab on the way and fill up an empty bottle with the substance currently on tap in the vat. She had an extra key, and told everyone she worked for a chemical company and just came on business (though by now the rumor had spread and everyone knew what really brought her there). He'd then casually mention that he thought he'd really struck gold with this batch, and she ought to just test the lather a bit on her hands to see what she thought.

...

About an hour later, Ayisa got to the lab to take care of the "favor" that Benoit had requested from her. She was all too happy to do it, not only because she hadn't had a lather session at Benoit's home in almost a year, but also because she was genuinely eager to see what this new lather was. She didn't know much about the new project, and assumed he was just after a silkier, richer lather, as always.

She took an empty shampoo bottle from the shelf and went to fill it at the vat. When she opened the tap, she was immediately struck by a riveting scent that seemed to drift among lilac, sandalwood, and some kind of musky pheromone reminiscent of 1990s Pantene shampoo. She sighed deeply and felt a blush rising from her chest up her neck.

The "shampoo" coming out of the tap looked thicker than usual. Once the bottle was full, she shut off the tap, and went over to the sink. She poured about a quarter size dollop in her palm, and rubbed her hands together, just dry at first. The substance didn't just coat her hands, as with normal shampoo, but also seemed to rise like dough, become more viscous. It seemed to move against her palm as well in a strange way, as if it were alive. She pulled her hands apart to add some water, but the substance merely stretched out between her palms like sticky slime or gum, though it didn't feel the least bit sticky. She shook her head, wondering if Benoit was playing a joke on her, then cupped her hands and ran some warm water into the dense foam. It immediately began to lather, churning and swirling, emitting plumes of tiny bubbles, and oozing pearlescent streams of soap that were then sucked back into the mass. She stared in amazement at her hands.

The flush rising up her neck now covered her body, and she was distinctly aware of the fact that what had been a slight moistness between her legs was quickly turning into a dripping mess. She of course always had a spare pair of panties in her purse, but the bigger problem was that she felt compelled to bury her lathery fingers deep in her pussy and cum as soon as possible. It started because of the smell, but the deep obsession with soapy textures she shared with Benoit, together with the inexplicably strange and glorious sensation of the substance now engulfing her hands, all came together in an uncontrollable urge.

Her clothes fell to the floor in a trail from the sink to the bathroom, where she turned on the heat lamps and sat on the lacquered, black wooden stool next to the tub. Taking a deep breath, she brought her hands to her pussy. Her mouth opened in a gasp so intense it silenced itself but for a small, hoarse, creaking hint of a moan. The foam immediately surged inside her. It filled her up entirely and seemed to lick and caress every millimeter of her vagina while moving as a whole within her. It seemed to be moving into her endlessly, as if the myriad caresses all marched inward along the length of the foaming protuberance. She had never felt anything like it, and had by this time forgotten about everything in the world beyond her body and the foam. If someone had asked her name, she would have returned only an ecstatically blank stare

While the lathery form pulsed within her, it also covered her whole pussy, seething around her clitoris and reaching out to massage her inner thighs. She tried moving her hand through the foam into her vagina, and was able to get two fingers inside. The whole mass responded and amplified the movements of her fingers as she manipulated it toward her G-spot. She almost fell from the chair, and pulled her hand out instinctively to steady herself. But there was no change inside her vagina. The foam continued, focused on her G-spot.

It was by far, without a doubt, the most intense pleasure she'd ever felt. Yet she didn't cum. She knew at this point the orgasm would leave her semi-unconscious, spasming on the floor for at least ten minutes, and she wasn't ready to stop yet. She was blessed to be able to balance the debilitating strength of her orgasms with an incredible will power over their timing. She cupped her hands and spread some of the foam up over her belly and onto her large, firm breasts. The foaming mass was soft and spongy on the outside, but thick and viscous in the center. There were places where the more viscous part emerged to the surface, leaving behind a trail of thick, pearly, soapy fluid that soon burst into more foam, congealing in places again into more slimy tendrils and membranes that caressed and massaged her skin, echoing her own hands' movements after they had already passed.

She moved her foaming, slimy hands gently up the undersides of her breasts, letting her palms tickle across the nipples, and then up her neck, paused for a moment, then brought them back down again, this time stopping to rub in large circles over the nipples. She crossed her arms over her chest, hugging herself. Then, raising and lowering her arms, she squeezed her breasts through them over and over again, letting the nipples catch for a moment and then slide over the foam-covered skin of her arms. When she took her hands away and gripped the sides of the chair, dizzy with the intense pleasure, the foam swelled over her chest, repeating the movements and adding levels of texture and movement that boggled her senses.

Finally she drew some more of the lather into her hands and combed her fingers through her long, thick, raven hair. At first it felt as if she emptied an entire bottle of shampoo on her head. A thick, silky, creamy substance immediately penetrated to her scalp and coated every hair to the tip. She dug her fingers in and began to massage, and the thick liquid began to sprout bubbles and develop into a dense foam. She leaned back, and scrubbed her head. Her hair danced down her back, churning into a dense foam, almost as dense as the shampoo itself but also thick enough not to drip but instead build in ever greater volumes.

The lathery force in her pussy continue pushing into her, her clitoris was consumed by a swirl of tiny bubbles, her breasts gently massaged and her nipples teased and licked by seething foam and viscous tendrils trailing soapy slime, and now her hair piled on her head and her scalp was massaged by fingers of dense foam. She was so close. She felt she would lose her balance soon, so she got off the stool and unsteadily laid down in the tub. She no longer needed her hands, and instead lay prone, motionless but for endless tremors of pleasure, feeling the foam doing to her what she suddenly realized she had always secretly dreamed. It had started when she was a teenager and had seen a commercial on TV in which a woman had her hair washed by many hands at the same time, while foam flew everywhere, and finally the woman screamed out in what seemed to be an orgasm. She had instantly gotten the urge to go wash her hair, not sure what was happening, and in the shower, feeling the soapy lather in her hair, had let one hand meander down between her legs. The rest was history, and led her to Benoit by way of thousands of imagined fantasies and a handful of embarrassing attempts to introduce her fetish into relationships or sessions with clients.

As she felt all of the incredible and new sensations across her body and simultaneously remembered her first time, she came. She had only squirted strongly a few times in her life, but this time she felt her own fluid gather pressure within her as she came, and finally explode in a powerful jet. In fact, it felt almost as if the foam surrounding her vagina was sucking her juices up into itself. She gasped for breath, sitting up in the tub for a moment and then collapsing back again. As she did so, all the lather on her body and in her hair flushed over her and gathered in a great sphere between her legs. It then surged within her one last time, now firmer than ever, though incredibly slick and silky and still covered with squirming tendrils of soapy slime. It began to spin within her and she found herself cumming again. She felt all of the liquid in her body drawing into her pussy and then gushing out, only to be drawn into the foamy ball inside her. When she was drained, she felt it stop for a moment, and then suddenly it all burst out of her vagina like a flood. She felt like she was coming endlessly and watched in amazement as the tub filled around her. She struggled to sit up against the back of the tub to keep from submerging totally. It filled the tub completely and then spilled over the sides, stopping only after it had covered about half the shower room floor.

Everything was still for a moment, and she noticed in the stillness that among the scents of lilac, sandalwood, and musky pheromones was a new smell: the sweet smell of her own cum. And she thought she could hear something like moans and screams far off in the distance. She thought she must be hallucinating from the strength of the orgasm. But she couldn't deny the strength of the smell of her cum, stronger than she could believe, as if there were gallons of it mixed into the soapy tub. Indeed, there seemed to be sheathes of silvery fluid snaking through the liquid.

She tried moving her body under the surface and found the substance to respond dynamically. The harder she moved, the harder it became. The more softly and slowly, the more it seemed like a liquid. She gently moved her hand to her breast, and as she did so the liquid began to wake up again. Within a few seconds it seemed to hold her body like a hand. Or, she thought, surprised at herself, like a giant vagina. It licked and pulsed and seethed, massaging every last bit of her body, and finally found itself way again inside her as well. She leaned back, feeling her hair and scalp immersed in the writhing substance, until only her face emerged. This time the orgasm came more quickly. Even so, it was perhaps even more intense, though in a different way. This time, it felt as if she were coming in reverse. As if some part of the substance was gushing into her. And then she felt hydrated, rejuvenated, and full of energy. She stood up, and got out of the tub slowly. The substance drained from her body, and the last drop dripped from her toes into the tub, leaving her fresh, clean, and dry. Her hair was silky and smooth and looked as if it had just been combed. She checked herself out in the mirror and felt she was more beautiful than she had been in years, somehow, and when she combed her fingers through her hair, she found they slid effortlessly through her hair, which had become much more lustrous and silky than usual. And it was usually just far enough from perfect to warrant messing it up with a ton of shampoo.

Shaking her head and laughing a little, she opened the bathroom door. What she saw made her scream in surprise. The vat had burst open, and the substance was pouring out of the tank behind it. She couldn't see where it came from, but it flowed across the floor of the laboratory in a bubbling, white river to the door. It continued on under the door, and now she realized that she could hear a chorus of moans, screams and sighs coming from the hallway beyond.

She brought her hands to her mouth, as if to scream, but instead burst out laughing, pressed her knees together, and jumped up and down. It may have been the happiest moment of her life so far, much to her surprise, just to know that so many people were being overcome by something about which she had fantasized in secret all her life until meeting Benoit. The thought of Benoit curbed her enthusiasm, though. She'd forgotten about everything but the foam, but now wondered what Benoit had actually intended, if anything. Could he possibly expect this? It seemed likely the end of his career. But... after creating something like this, who cares?

She got down two of the two-gallon shampoo containers and filled them at the foaming waterfall. Little foamy tendrils reached out and caressed her fingers as she did so, and she felt a strange kinship and familiarity with them, as well as a shiver and a growing warmth between her legs. Not yet, she thought, preparing herself mentally to witness the sight beyond the laboratory door.

... TO BE CONTINUED...