The Voice Within Ch 02

(Writers note; Thanks to the positive feedback I received from the initial installment, I've been persuaded to continue the epoch journeys of Bob and his symbiotic soul mate. At risk of redundancy, so abundant in sequels, Bob is about to embark on a cosmic journey into the depths of reality in search of fulfillment (or whatever else makes itself available).

As the gentle hands of Miss K. found my hardening organ, the same wild abandoned I'd witnessed upon my many recent conquests began to overwhelmed her delicate features. Throwing the thin blanket to the carpet, she threw herself face down into the plush mattress, and raised her rump high into the air as I half expected her to release the pent up gasses from the spicy tamales we had devoured the night before. Rather, a simple expletive about reaming her butt cleared the air while triggering alarm bells in the brains atop both my throbbing member, and between my ears.

Now I've never been one to exploit all the available openings my female counterparts possess as I had always reasoned the old poop shut was for foul things to exit rather than for my cherished manhood to enter. It was apparent that any reasoning she may still harbor was dominated by animal lust, so I improvised and went to the head. A woman possessed is beyond driven, and before I could lock myself into the only immediate refuge that came to mind she was in front of me, bent over at the waist, mumbling things that would convince a deaf mute she was no virgin in the rear end department. Her tightly puckered hole was barely visible between the two flawless globes she presented so shamelessly to me.

Such unconditional abandon was more than my resurrected organ could deny and I moved toward her remembering, only at the last moment, that a little lube keeps the squeaking to a minimum. A quick dollop of KY and I was positioned to enter uncharted waters as my victim shivered visibly in anticipation. Tight is a gross understatement when describing her pink portal while perserverance is a virtue. After several forceful thrusts, I was in the slippery cavern wondering secretly if packaged enema kits wouldn't be a far gentler means of fulfilling her needs. The tugging friction was glorious, and her unexpected orgasm accompanied by the almost unbearable tightening of her sphincter was far more pleasurable than I could imagine.

Uncounted orgasms later, she collapsed onto the bathmat; while my unfulfilled pee shooter remained as solid as ever. I let her lay, a pool of quivering humanity, as I turned on the hot water and quickly cleaned any residue that may plug up my pee hole in fear of future consequences, the least being spontaneous abdominal combustion from pent up pee. I covered her gently and flipped on a pair of conservative swimwear so I could bask by the pool and reconsider the new application of my tool in its recently demonstrated rotor rooter role.

As I turned to the door, she was kneeling in front of me, and yanked down the oversized spandex to engulf my flaccid tool. She used her mouth with the same beautiful expertise she sculpted her voice, while her delicate fingers tugged and smoothed the pink folds between her still quivering legs. It was far more stimulation than my overworked appendage could sustain, and as her hand began to cup and ply my gonads; I expended the essence my reproductive system. I too fell to my knees in ecstasy as my pheromone saturated seed slid into her digestive system. She began quaking with renewed orgasms in an erotic display that would make millions on the porn market. It sure is good to be a reengineered man, and I thanked my symbiotic companion gratefully as I gently caressed the trembling frame of Miss K. A gentle buzz at the base of my spine signaled its acknowledgement as I rose to my feet, and once ahead headed for the comfort of the pool.

The pool was surrounded by manicured palms and had a delightful floating bar under a thatched roof on the shallow end. I slid onto one of the submerged stools allowing the gentle water to sooth my weary torso as the bartender nonchalantly poured me a scotch on the rocks. There was little activity to set my depleted reproductive system astir except for two young beauties at the far end of the pool, playing volleyball. I was intrigued by their chest mounted superstructure that swayed and bobbled in wild abandon in a delayed symphony to the motions of their extremities. As I was about to unleash my fantasies, I saw them – the Men in Black emerging from the guest gate; one with a striking resemblance to Tommy Lee!

Within seconds my fight or flight reflex kicked in as I saw them moving determinedly towards me! Panic spurred me to choke down my Johnny Walker, as my legs turned to jelly. Wordlessly, they flashed badges that could have easily come from a five and dime for all I knew. With a quick, no nonsense command, I was following them like a little puppy to their unmarked POV with a small decal that proclaimed "Homeland Security" stuck on the driver's door. With nary an indication that the black gas hog would convert into a rocket sled, I was forced into the back seat and we were off before a crowd could gather. These men must have graduated at the top of their class in humane inhumanity as my queries were blatantly ignored while neither seatbelt nor explanations were ever offered.

We roared down the freeway to a small government facility and I was briskly escorted onto a small jet with plastic seat covers and a thread bare carpet. I was given a lukewarm Coke as we flew over the desert and watched a Humphrey Bogart movie while they stared at me from behind their Ray Bans. As the plane began its descent I could see unremarkable hangers and support structures alongside a long landing strip and suddenly recognized the site as Area 51 from the aerial photos I'd seen on a 60-minute special several weeks ago. The lump in my throat turned into a boulder. A quick taxi on the tarmac and I was pushed out the hatch and into a small office that could have easily doubled as granny's home in the 'burbs.

The elevator ride into the bowels of terra firma seemed endless, and I found myself getting excited for some gawd awful reason. As the door opened, I was staring directly into to shiny glasses of Dawn, the BSP queen! The symbiotic lump in the small of my back suddenly reacted so violently my legs almost gave out.

"How's it hangin' Bob," she quipped.

"To the left and a quart low; how's that mole on the inside of your right thigh – you really should get that looked at by a trained professional." My discomfort with the current scenario was apparent through my clenched teeth.

"Still quick on your feet among other places, I hear'" she bantered back with the emotionless face that all professionals seem to carry.

"Not quick enough thanks to your MiB's; why don't you put me on a greyhound back to my scotch, and I'll forget all about the kidnapping charges."

A stone faced Neanderthal stepped in front of Dawn and, after allowing a few seconds of intimidation, he spoke in a voice that could set off a new ice age. "You've been brought to this research facility to serve your country on a mission of intergalactic importance."

"Spare me. . ."

"Would you prefer to spend the remainder of your paltry existence in a maximum security facility?"

"That would far more palatable than working with an over inflated idiot as yourself," I retorted, growing increasingly annoyed.

"We have sworn testimonials from all the women you've raped. . ."

"They asked for it. . ."

"Whoa - let's take it down a notch, boys." It was Dawn who interjected just moments before I was aiming to rip out the Neanderthals throat.

"Come with me Bob," she requested in a firm voice. Again I found myself following someone I really couldn't trust like a new found puppy. It was true she had given me a new lease on life, but I was about to learn it was only a small part of a much grander scheme. We walked down a long white corridor, me in a swimsuit with hardening nipples and a shriveling penetrator thanks to the cold and colorless floor. Again a victim, I could feel my constant companion writhing torturously against my spine learning first hand, the true meaning of empathy. How I wanted to hear the voice within once more but I surmised its silence was for a just cause. We turned down a less well illuminated hallway before coming to a door that seemed to vanish as soon as Dawn stepped through it.

There on a small bench were two honest to goodness Roswell aliens, staring at us with huge unblinking eyes and long sinewy fingers that slowly moved as if they had a mind of their own. Now I've seen many strange things in my time but these little creatures took the cake. Emotionless, colorless, sexless, and who knows what else less, their aura was just too weird and I got ready to bolt out of there even if it meant spending the rest of my life in solitary. Without looking I turned and ran directly into the chest of He-Man, the Neanderthal and fell flat onto the floor bruising my butt.

"These are ambassadors from another world," Dawn stated as she tried to suppress a hint of laughter.

I just sat on the floor with my lower jaw hanging somewhere down near my knees.

"They have shared some of their technology and helped us in adapting that technology to our life forms in that we may assist some of the planets they protect by providing a, shall we say, natural resource that is abundant on our world."

"Uh. . ." was all I could mutter.

Dawn continued: "You are the first of we hope many that will travel to different worlds to help their dying species procreate. With no ties on this world, and frankly, very little to offer, you're a prime candidate."

"Hold on a minute Speedy Gonzalez," I was finally able to blurt out, "You're going to send me as a sexual ambassador to ET's planet to make little Martians?" The thought of dumping my seed into one of these bug-eyed apparitions went beyond repulsion.

"Well, yes," Dawn return unfaltering, "But you'll find 'ET' far more appealing than some of the people standing in this very room." She nodded towards He-Man with a smirk.

"Why don't they just go fuck themselves?'

"They can't, Bob. Most all male species that evolved similar to our own appear to have one basic flaw – in time the male reproductive organs shrink into. . .well look at the two males sitting here!"

I looked at their crotches from afar, yet close enough to ascertain their throbbing manhood was little more than a pimple with a pee hole. "Will this happen to us?"

"Fortunately not, thanks to fluoride."

"Come again?"

"I'd love to; thanks Bob," she snickered, scrunching her nose in a way I always found cute.

"Fluoride?"

"Why do you think it's been used for such a long time in the developed nations?"

"Why do I need the booger you stuck in my back then?"

"It will help you adapt and support your reproductive system so you won't, shall we say, peter out prematurely. You'll be happy to know, your voyage across the galaxy will be faster than light so when you arrive at your new home, you'll be substantially younger than you are today."

It took a few moments to digest what Dawn had given me but who in their right mind would turn down an opportunity to serve their species by living on a technologically advanced planet while being surrounded by hoards of sex starved naked virgins eagerly awaiting fertilization. "I'll go," I muttered while forcefully repressing the urge to tap dance through the halls.

"I knew you would," Dawn clapped her hands with glee; "Let's get you prepped."

*****

Somewhere amidst the great expanse, we commonly refer to as The Milky Way, a naked figure lays strapped to a floating bed with a large video screen showing non-stop porno movies while a device aptly named an "orgasmic inducer" continually urges his gradually diminishing seed into a small receptacle. His once proud symbol of masculinity has been reduced to a lifeless membrane that had lost all sensation; the once abundant nerve endings pummeled into senseless oblivion. Deep inside his pelvis, a small translucent membrane throbs with activity, spurred on in its ceaseless activity by a small electrode that tirelessly emits the tiny spark of life that keeps both the BSP and its host at their peak reproduction efficiency. As tears slowly continued to form in his eyes, his mind wanders, for just a brief moment, to the hum of the buffer as he polished the floor and the happiness he knew then. A million tomorrows passed.

Somehow, as Bob dozed amidst the incessant silence that caressed him he became aware of the first movement he had witnessed for an eternity. A small child ran over to his immobile form and began to caress his face with the tenderness only a mother posses while tears reddened her twinkling eyes. Other hands hurriedly began to free his bound extremities as the gentle persistent pressure that had clung on his lifeless genitals was suddenly gone.

"Wha. . ." was all my parched lips could produce.

I'm so sorry Bob, the crying little girl stammered "So sorry."

I recognized Dawns voice and with closer inspection, saw the juvenile precursor of the woman I had grown to loathe over untold centuries.

"What?"

"Shhh," she chided, "We're going to take you home now."

Knowing words were hard to come by, I succumbed to her advice, while a voice within spoke clearly and distinctly; "That was fun, what'll we do next?"

On the voyage home, the angelic little child explained how, after I and a few of my successors were transported to other worlds, a benevolent race of aliens had interceded to reveal the true nature of our inbreeding. My genetically superior offspring would eventually join invading forces that, in their hybrid form were destined to dominate Earth and several other nearby habitable planets. On humanities behalf, these benevolent aliens offered their assistance, and set out to rescue those who had survived their grueling internment while banishing the bug-eyed bad guys into oblivion. I was the lone survivor thanks to the continuing efforts of my BSP to preserve what little life force I had.

As the ship landed under the cover of darkness at Area 51, I was amazed to find that I was the same as when the MiB's had torn me from my world an eternity ago. Only catching a glimpse of one of the tall skinny alien rescuers, I waved my gratitude as I was hurriedly escorted from the long sleek silver ship into an awaiting jet. The jet looked the same, as were my two escorts; dead ringers of those who had originally taken me from my scotch, complete with Ray Bans and the personality of a rock. The only difference was the Presidential Medal of Freedom one of them handed me unceremoniously graciously displayed in a mahogany box perfect for storing my unused condoms.

Miss K. was somewhat perturbed with my unannounced absence until I flashed the medal in front of her face, and set about removing the thin sleepwear that clung so enticingly to the gentle curves of her womanhood. In an instant, my face was buried in the delicious folds of her sexuality, savoring her essence as she greedily groped for my tool. A drop of precum later, she was flooding my mouth with the sweetest taste I could ever desire, bucking and moaning uncontrollably as her body took on a life of its own. Still recovering from its machine induced trauma, my manhood barely stirred in arousal while grudgingly offering what little orgasmic inducing fluid it could surrender.

Sometime later, as we lay in the incomparable afterglow, my mind drifted back to the young woman who had started it all, and wondered, just for a moment, where she may be. The voice within shattered my mental meanderings.

"She's not bad but I know we can do better; got any chocolate?"

"Haven't you had enough excitement for a lifetime," I queried skeptically?

"I can't speak for you slim Jim, but I plan to live forever."

"I think we already have," I quipped, "And let's knock of the below the belt slurs, shall we?"

"I can talk how ever I want about my equipment," it retorted.

"Got me there," I sighed.

"Sure do," it responded wistfully. "Let's play Volleyball tomorrow."

"Sure you're up to it?"

"Try asking yourself the same question!"

"Just did; now shut it and let me get some rest, would you? I swear you must be a woman!"

"Are you," it asked suspiciously.

"Does it really matter," I retorted wondering if schizophrenia was setting in.

"I'll be whatever you want me to be."

"Good, be quiet then; we'll check out the pool as soon as the bar opens." I felt a warm buzz at the base of my neck and knew, as the only implant survivor, I had to be the luckiest guy in the whole world.