Ginger pulls me closer to her in the pew. It's strange. Like a kind of maternal love. Mixed with sexual feelings, like a territorial girl feels for her man. And something in me doesn't like it. But another part of just... relaxes. Let's go. Loves it. Can't get enough. It feels easier to just... submit to her. I feel kind of emotional too. Like, I want to yell my feelings. All of them. But I wanna wait till we get in private. Geez, if I was madder, I blast her out now. All my feelings.
Feelings...? I don't talk about my feelings! WTF?
Anyway, we sit in a pew. That's just one of many in this ginormous... chur....temp......okay. Let me try to explain THIS shit....
What or who ever little brown lizard man, wearing a grey-skin hazmat suit with giant black goggles over his beady little eyes, that was dropped off on the planet, to get intel on human philosophical and spiritual group buildings?
He fucked up.
He fucked the fuck up.
Because, this is a American colonial church. With Shinto religion temple windows. And a giant Buddhist gong near the door. And.... [SIGH]....man, he fucked up. There's a Santa chair at the pulpit. With the cut-out elves and gingerbread men, and cotton snow, everything.
So, take a church, take a Shinto temple's windows out and shove them in the wall, but a voodoo altar at the entry door, NEXT to a gong. And at the pulpit...is...a "Take Your Picture With Mall Santa" Santa Claus chair. There's....there's even a choo-choo train quietly riding in a circle around the church, with a plastic Karl Marx as the conductor, and the Atheist symbols on it.
DAMN, that alien messed up.
Is THIS how they see us? WHICH bastard is responsible for this?
And to make it worse, a small woman with long brown hair and a smile too big for her face, sits in the Santa chair.
Don't sit IN IT! Ohhhhhhh (facepalm).
Well, at least she's small, perky, cheerful. She reminds me of a spitting image of Giada.
Next to her stands a massive, muscular brunette with rippling abs, thick arms, and dark brown hair to her waist. She looks easily about 40, and her voice is deep. "Big Sam" they call her. She seems to be the boss of "security", which is all pretty fit or fat-thighed women. Who must have had a background in sports, or police work. They pace the church, wearing blue clothing. Whatever clothes they could put on that's all blue. Like a gang of middle aged, athletic moms, wearing anything that's blue. As long as the shit's blue. I take it these are the "PoliceGirls".
They swing sleek batons. That look...new age. Like nothing I've ever seen before in my life. Like something out of Mass Effect. They are dark grey, shaped like perfectly-cut rectangular blocks, but the sharp edges smoothed down to a perfect aerodynamic grade. And a tiny yellow and black "CAUTION" color line is a stripe down one of the sides. I guess these are "policy enforcement" weapons the Zetis gave us.
"EVERYONE SETTLE YOUR KEISTERS DOWN!" yells the guard.
The......church......settles down. There's MANY people here. Maybe 200?
The smiling woman clears her throat.
"Well, to all the new people who haven't seen me before..." she chimes with glittering kindness; "...I am Sharon. And I see we have all our beloved family here today! I see Beef Twerkyville. I see Twilight Shades..."
"Are you serious?"
"Shh! Mary Anne, the queen, is a huge Twilight and 50 Shades fan!! Now, shush!"
"...and I see Neo Terranae."
"Wow, that's coo-"
"SHH! That's Genevieve's subdivision."
I see "Queen Genevieve" do a small, kept-low wave to Sharon. She's a obese woman, with long brown hair that has a reddish tint to it. She's beautiful, as if she could be Mariah Carey's relative. Her teeth are so pearly white, that it looks like she has braces in certain light. She's astonishing. And elegant. And the name of her subdivision is epic. Neo Terranae.
"...I'm sure all of you have met one of the 3 "queens" here, heehee. Well, think of them more as moms and people who help everyone. Some of the girls like to say "queens", so we just... go with the flow!" she giggles, shrugging her shoulders. The room laughs calmly.
"I am Sharon, or some have said "high queen" Sharon. Because I am like a big sister to all three of the "queens" here. Some may say I'm a, heh, "boss"..." she does her fingers in air quotations; "...of all subdivisions and queens here. I help everyone who helps everyone. We're a community, we have to depend on one another. And that demands we get it together, people! Now... the 900 pound gorilla in the room... I'm sure you all are AWARE of our situation. We are...hunh....in a strange unknown part of the world, dropped off here by extraterrestrials. Who, I remind you, made sure we have all the most comfortable luxuries of home. But food we must manage ourselves. ANNDD... they swapped our coochies around, to put it bluntly.
The eldest here, and the most educated on the subject, have decided that the spacemen, or "zookeepers" as the cool girls like to say, want us to be a new chosen group of humanity. We do not know yet why, but everything they've done has shown us they only want us to be happy, healthy ....and breed. But sex is natural, it's healthy. So, let's help our species by... living well, and...heh, making babies! Now, we have laws and rules. And though the PoliceGirls may look a little tough sometimes, they are here to help. Now, all the signals from the zookeepers seemed to have stopped. Meaning, we think they are done dropping people off, or trying to send us messages. It's all on us now. I will take questions. ...yes?"
A arm the color of dark chocolate raises, almost black as me. It belongs to a girl with long, black silky hair, and gold loops in her ears. She looks Indian. The style her hair is in looks Hindi.
"Did the zookeepers leave us? Did they leave us stranded here? How do we call them for help?"
"Heh, one question at a time, dear. We've decided that the zookeepers are not gone. But watching us. Because, if they've gone through all this trouble to make this for us, then it would be stupid for them to up and abandon everything. We believe they want us to naturally take care of ourselves, govern ourselves, feed ourselves. And not intervene. We believe it may be like a nature channel watching animals. Or like The Watcher from the Marvel magazines. I love Marvel! Anyway, we may not be able to depend on them if our lives are at stake. So, this is why it's all on US. Together, dig it? TIIIGHT! .....yes, MY lady?"
Genevieve raises her hand.
"Well... I've told the newcomers about the marriage rules, but considering my subdivision has the highest number of... higher-skilled people... I've had some issues. The truth is, the marriage rule is not set-in-stone. What are we to definitely do?"
"Sure. Let's be blunt here. People WILL "get it in." And, for the sake of order, for rebuilding humanity, we need to stick to morals. Not be just... devolving like savages of a trailer park filled with racist orcs. We have NO items of protection for sex. Not even saran wrap. Even the plastic in the TV dinners has been perforated. So, as far as things are now... the closest thing to "safe sex" is pulling out, and using a fertility calendar. As women, we all have lots of experience with watching our fertility cycles. We can teach these guys to do the same. And above all, BEEEE CAREFUL.
As for marriage... we don't want to do the whole "shot-gun" thing. So, until the queens and I can make a better plan, this is how things are gonna go: if a pair of you truly love each other, and want to make love and have a home, then we can arrange for a proper marriage.
If you two fool around, and someone gets pregnant, then we want to put you two through counseling to push you guys together into a better relationship, and marriage.
And if all else fails, we can arrange a form of peaceful child support. Okay?"
She squeals "okay!", as if she's a happy little fairy.
I raise my hand. Ginger groans as if she wishes I wouldn't. Geez, this Sharon is a big ass deal.
"No disrespect meant, but, uh... just curious. Why are YOU queen? I'm not questioning your authority or anything, just... on what basis are you guys the rulers?"
The church has a barely heard gasp.
Sharon smiles, leaning her head to the side. She crosses her tiny thigh over the lump in her pants' groin.
"...no, I like that question! It's a good one. What's your name?"
"TODD, I like your brazenness. Well, Todd, we were some of the very first people dropped here. And it was only us for a week. Those of us who had the most get-up-and-go about ourselves, and who naturally stepped in to lead and guide, we just... were seen as "big sisters", so to speak. Moms. And we all also were the toughest. Any fight or attack on us, we SHUT DOWN. And truth be told, the queens are the best at shutting down bad apples. And, heh, not to toot my own horn, but I am better than all of them."
"It's TRUE. She makes me feel safe!" mutters from the crowd.
"I could have a beer with her."
"Wait..." I mutter; "What "attacks"? How did you shut them down? Like, dangerous fights?"
"Welllll.... there were people who decided to just be bad apples. Try to start drama. And we were the best at shutting them up and putting them in their place. And the zookeepers took notice, and decided to post proof of what we can do, in our... "phone thrones" they gave us."
"Not to be disrespectful, but from what you're saying, basically, you're all just the leaders because you all can out-fight anyone else on twitter and instagram?"
"..........what's your point, TODD?"
"So, you guys are the leaders out of primitive dog culture. Whoever everyone is scared of is boss. Whoever everyone is scared to ask or challenge is automatically boss. Everyone is scared of you, because you're second-to-none in shutting someone down with words on SOCIAL MEDIA???"
"....I don't need to answer this. NEXT?"
"Why are the other people just... just accepting this?"
"Because I'm their friend. And their my friends. And-"
"Somebody who insults you or makes you scared of them ISN'T a friend! You "queens" are social media dramatics! You guys socialize and know each other, but you're not true friends. Just... just associates who are fiercely loyal to each other due to knowing one another for x-amount of time, and instinctively submitting to the "dominant bitch." That's...no. That's just not right. I don't want to follow you, just because I'm scared of you, or because you can knock somebody down better than anyone else!"
"We are similar looking girls with similar accents. That's all we need."
"So, you're bonding over "my kind vs. their kind". Dude..."
"TODD SHUT UP!!!!" screams Ginger. "Don't you ever talk to SHARON like that!"
"Or what? She's going to UNFRIEND you and call you fat? That's.... that's not a friendship or leadership. That's just organized bullying."
The church rolls with gasps and uproars. The PoliceGirls start rushing towards me.
"You know WHAT, TODD? We are going to settle this! In private! Ladies, take him to the Oversee."
The burly women, all either like former soccer and volley ball athletes, or police women, jerk and drag me away. I wish I could talk to Genevieve. Or one of these people with common sense. A clique of petty idiots, male and female, have used their rushing energy and speed, to grab power. Why are the rational or logical people just...just sitting there, letting it happen. Why is Genevieve not leading? Or one of these enlightened people? I see more brilliant and genius ladies than men in here.
17 Minutes Later on 'em.
I sit in a massive building that seems to sit behind the 3 subdivisions. Amidst the crops and lakes. It's tall, and can look over everything. As if someone took a city's loft and slapped it near 3 small suburbs. I've been sitting on a couch, with 3 big women glaring at me.
One of them, a heavy brunette bristling with thick curves and dense muscle, looks at me sadly.
"Todd, was it?" she mutters. I'm flabbergasted by the amazing depth and size of this high rise. I feel like I'm in a high class office of a millionaire from 1985. It's like the head office of the big business man in Gremlins 2. EXACTLY like it. I guess they copied the movie?
"You're right. But, you have to be careful. We have to survive, right now. People are confused. Lost. Scared. Disturbed. Think about it."
"What are you saying?"
"All those rational, smart, leaders you asked for? They're there. Women who could turn this place into a metropolis. But THINK. LOOK at the situation. The smart person is stuck thinking. Survival mode. Maybe in months, or years, they will take over. But right now, the leadership has kept us united and gives people a sense of stable comfort. Just THINK before you speak, okay?"
"Are you serious?"
I've always had that problem. Blabbing what bubbles on the surface of my brain. And now, I'm paying for it.
"Is he here?" says Sharon's stern voice, as her shoes tap-tap along the hard floor. She sounds pissed.
She storms in, not looking at me. On purpose. She storms over to her desk, which I keep imagining any minute, a gremlin will turn in the big chair. She pours herself a ready made mimosa, downing it in one gulp.
She's the petty kind of person. A grammar-Nazi and forum god-lord-demon-knight-king-emperor....whatever else argumentative cowardly trolls pretend they are. Were-viking devil god lord. A werewolf who turns into a viking at the full moon. But he's a devil who became a god, that is lord of devils that become gods in the full moon. On the Sabbath. During an eclipse. In Hell. ALWAYS in Hell. Always. Dammit, isn't Heaven supposed to be more bad ass? Aren't the angels supposed to be like uber Zulu-Jaguar-Berserker-Praetorian master masters? Yes, master master, a master of masters who mastered mastery over masterism. Using Masterium, a metal mastered by master smiths, which is made from dead masters who mastered death. With a Masters Degree.
That shit's so nerdy that the cringe will send you to the E.R., dude.
But she's that. A pretty, female version of a forum troll. With a clique.
She pours another small glass, holding it.
"Sam, stay here. The rest of you can go."
The 2 women walk out, only leaving the most built looking one with the dark brown hair and the thick liver lips. Samantha O' Hanahen. Big Sam.
The doors close. Sharon has a slight wobble, as she kicks off her shoes. The mimosa she chugged is marching up and down her blood stream.
"You got a mouth on you, Mister Man! Huh?!" she laughs. I sit on the couch, feeling intimidated. I know a guy isn't supposed to feel scared of women. But damn it, I'm scared. They're older than me, smarter than me, faster than me, wittier than me. I'm out of my class. I'm like a big strong bull, surrounded by smarter, faster, wiser, armed hunters. My strength means jack shit.
"You know what, Big Sam?" she smiles, shuffling roughly under her blue skirt. "He's one of these little shits who's a momma's boy!"
Big Sam laughs, folding her muscular arms. The door is locked. The huge windows show it's night outside.
"You know about momma's boys, riughHt? They aren't REAL men! Because a ReAllL man will do whatever his woman wants him to do. And do it right. A real man will letsss his woman sit around doing whatever she waunts while he's is the sole provider, stabilizer, manager, financier, and parent to his Kw-uh............................. queen."
"Sharon..." I mutter. She sips half the glass down, before it sloppily bangs on the desk. She jerks around under her skirt. I think of a drunk, pissed-off Giada. But with bright leaf-green eyes.
A 12 inch monster, full of veins, peeks out from under her skirt. Her panties look like silky, lacy bags holding a giant ball of dough on each side. The massive white cock throbs, as if angry. As if a nuclear locomotive engine inside it is pissed the grandmother-fuck off.
I start breathing hard. I NEVER seen a dick like that, except in hentai. Massive veins. White. Huge. Angry.
"If you're gonna damn live in MY city, theuh.....then, you're gonna be uh CONTRIButORRR to society! No free rides here, Momma's BOY! I'mma teach you to be uh MAN. A real Man. Get up."
"Wh-wh-wh...Sharon, I'm sorry."
"I need to teach you huuhh........how...how to be responsible. Now, you can get over to that desk, and bend over. Or... you can leave. And I'll have you banned from evvvurthing. From every house. You can go. Free, from our "bad" little circle. Or, you can be a contributing citizen to our society and respect us. Pick one. Yur choizze."
"Look, I'm sorry, can I just go?"
"SURE! But, you walk out that door, you're banned. How long you think you can make it in the desert? Who knows? You look like a momma's boy to me, so I don't think you'd last too LUH.....urp...long. You got 2 choices Todd: leave and do your own thing. OR, you can stay here, be a constructive citizen, and do as I say."
"Why do I have to bend over the desk?"
"I'm not doing this bullshit with you! I know better, I'm in control here. Now, bend over the desk, and stay in the community. Or walk out, and enjoy some sand. Pick."
She means it. She MEANS it. I just..... what else can I do? I just walk over to the desk. My pale white palms press against the hard wood, stretching out my black-crayon colored fingers. My red braids feel hot with the nervousness from my body.
"You got cool eyebrows. Like a dark elf." compliments Big Sam.
I know. Random as shit, right? But would you care in this situation? Sharon presses her hand into my back, bending me over.
"What are you do-"
"FINE! Leave! Go on! Let's go. Out you go, momma's boy! I'm going to text every queen right now. Todd Pinky-rat or whatever the hell, is OUT. You're done. Yourrrrre done, buddy boy Jimbo."
"N-n-n-noooo, look! I'm sorry."
"Thuh word "Sorry" doesn't cut any mustard here. Now get up. And GET gone, Jack. Hit the road. And don't you come back."
Outdated ass heifer....
"Okay, okay, okay....I'm pulling them down..."
All I'm thinking about is survival. I don't want to be out there alone. I don't want to see just what she can do. TO ME. I unzip my jeans, and slide my pants down till they flumph! around my ankles. I'm bent over the desk in my drawers.
"I'm sorry, Sharon. Please don't."
"[SIGHHHH!].......for you to come back, you're going to need to learn some serious responsibility. And respect."
"Whatever you say."
She slides my underwear down gently, before humiliatingly squeezing and slapping my buttcheeks. I hear Big Sam laugh.
Then I feel the hard, hot head of her angry dick.
"Hold STILL." she sighs, as if tired of me.
I just do it. I feel like I JUST escaped doom by a hair. UNH!!!!!!....Urgnnn..... I feel it start it's journey through my buttocks.
I start breathing hard. Adrenaline in my chest. A mix of fear, and excitement. Big Sam comes over, and gently strokes me below. I feel my chest get warm, and nipples poke out like swords. I HATE that shit. It's weird. Why me? Unhhh... What did those lizard people DO to me?!?!
The huge, white hand jerks and strokes slowly, gently. I feel my taint warm up, and become oversensitive.
"Good... Now, you're being a real mannn......" Sharon whispers, before holding my hips with one hand, and feeding her monster in with the other. I feel the huge head pop inside, elbowing my outer ring like a body builder forcing open the sides of a door. I stretch for her. Big Sam presses those big liver lips against my forehead. Lovingly.
"Mmmm, you're so sexy..." she teases, continuing to tease my cock. I feel my taint heat up more and increase further in sensitivity.
I feel Sharon's shaft start sliding deep inside. It hurts. It really hurts my ass. But feels SOOOO good along my inner taint and prostate. I can't help but drool, and drop my face into the desk. I take the shaft deep, without making so much as a whimper.
"See that, Sam..." she whispers, leaning into me and pushing her dick deeper, "That's a REAL man... a real man takes all of a woman's dick. And can TAKE it!" she thrusts forard; "DEEP! A real man makes his woman feel good, by taking her dick deep down...
"Oooh, you're a size king, huh...?" Sam teases, nibbling my ear. I feel her massive breasts swell up and her nipples poke my face. I feel more giant shaft slide inside. My taint feels like it's fire, but electric currents are running through it. I want to jiggle my hips up and down and scream in insane pleasure. Oh gods.......
"Momma's boy likes big white cock up that nice black ass, huh?" teases Sharon, now grabbing my hips and thrusting more and more inches inside. I drool hard, and shiver. My fingernails scratch the wood. I give in to my baseline wants, not caring anymore, and arch my back, opening wider for her. I start jiggling up and down on my tip-toes, like I'm trying to vibrate my doing mini jumps on my tip-toes.
I drool, feeling my body jiggle up and down.
"Ohhhunnnnn" Sharon sighs loud. "WHOOOO!! SHIT! YEAH! JIGGLE FOR THE QUEEN, YOU PUSSY SIMP!"
Simp. She called me a "simp." Simp is the worst thing you can call a man. Regardless of race, gay or straight. A simp is a cringey spineless wimp, who is overly gushy-mushy, stupid, and so low that a bullied cuckold couldn't take the cringe. That's a simp. A pussy+wimp+cringe+bullied cuckold+a guy who will do whatever his woman or his boyfriend tells him to do, even "go jump off a cliff" literally+will catch a grenade for a girl/boy who couldn't give 2 shits about you. Times 2.
I hate her. And she's dicking me down. She has NO respect for me. I'm less than a dog. I'm despicable. And she's about to make me cum on her huge dick up my guts.
I'm sorry daddy...
I'm a big white cock slut.
"Yeah, arch your back for me, bitch."
UNHHHGGHHUH... Oh gods... the THOUGHTS in my head... They're horrid....
She thrusts deep, making my body slump to a stop on the desk, I open my mouth to gasp/groan, but Big Sam locks her thick Irish lips over my mouth, and penetrates my very throat.
I hate myself. I hate my thoughts.
"Nothing teaches...unrfff..." she grunts, getting it balls deep inside. The thickness almost makes me want to burp, and grind and scream, as I lose my mind on her shaft lighting my taint up like a sizzling poker burning a loaf of bread.
"...grunfff... teaches responsibility like parenthood.... so, we're gonnna have to resort to teaching you the hard way..."
"HUH?! WHAT'DYA MEAN?!"
"Who's your momma, momma's boy?!"
"WHo's YOUR MOMMA?!"
Her hips gyrate in a slow circle, swiveling. She fucks me with style, as if she's a belly-dancing stripper from the tropical shores. Her abs ripple, as she slams me to a mini-rhythm. Then stops, and begins spinning her hips like a hoola-hooper, making that huge tree trunk stretch me out.
My eyes water as I drool and slam the desk. Ohhhhh I'm gonna cum.
"Who am I?!" Sharon gasps.
I call her Momma now. She makes me feel so tiny and submissive. Oh gods, my insides worship her pillar. Her Nord and Celt mixed seed. Her very being. I want to ask her to dump her next load into my alien-altered, willing, Nubian, unprotected womb.
I want her seed, coating my eggs. Breeding me. Conquering me.
Some twisted area of my mind wants to carry her children. To nurture the next generation of Norse-Celtic warriors. I want her seed. Over a desk, under a mature woman, deciding to get her jollies from knocking me up for the sake of forcing me into submission. All over talking too much. I'm being knocked into submission by being knocked up with my alpha's baby. HER baby.
Oh godsss.... make me...wait.. THE FUCK is WRONG with me?!?!
Did I just groan for her to cum in me? Oh shit! NO NO NO!!!
"You like babies, Todd?!?!?!"
"HERE YA GOOOoooooGGGrunnnNNNNNNNNNNNNNNRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGG!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Sharon screams, digging her fingernails into my hips and pushing that monster so deep that I literally feel it punching against a wall inside me. Like a wall of sensitive muscle deep in my taint and up in hips, just below my belly button. A wall of muscle, over sensitive to pleasure, inside there, it's being painfully punched and thumped by a hard banana. Or a small fist. It hurts. It feels good, but mostly just HURTS.
Then I feel it.
Everything inside me gets much hotter. Sloppy. Wet. As if I've had a water hose plugged up there and turned on low. But with olive oil, not water. DAMN, I feel wet and full inside. She won't pull out. She stays deep, still with that "punching" feeling inside.
I don't wanna admit that I know what she's doing.
She's punching my cervix with her cock head. Spilling, shooting, jetting, jettisoning, and spraying her genetic bloodline to wash away everything inside. My Kemetic and Nubian egg is drowning in northern barbarians. It's Alexander's pale Greeks conquering Kemet all over again. But inside.
And I just submit. I lay under this older milf, relaxing, letting her enjoy herself making sure I'm going to swell with a woman's baby. It's sooo fucked up. And.... I've never been this insane with lust before.
I just slump on the desk. I tried twice to pull away from her. But she just uses the momentum to slam me back down into her hips, making her dick punch THE FUCK out of me inside. Making me GUH! Ohhh.oh...oh....fFUCCKK!
I start cumming in Big Sam's hand. My entire body shivers, as if I'm being slowly stabbed with a knife in the side. I scream like it too. This orgasm is ripping me apart. I soak Sam's hand in clear, watery fluid, as I feel my entire groin spin like a knotted car spring, than snap-spasm loose. It sends shockwaves of orgasm GUH all through my entire body.
I scream, the orgasm smashing me like a hammer. I feel all the full wetness inside start to change. Like it's a little bit not as flooded inside anymore. I know what that means. However much shit she drowned my cervix door with, the door burst open, vacuuming and slurping her seed deep into my belly.
"Ohhh lord, you're pregnant, simp." Sharon gasps. She gently pat-slaps my ass cheek like I'm a good horse.
"Good boy. Got it all inside. Welp, I got a kid coming from there then..." she says nonchalantly, gripping my hips and pulling herself out.
"Ggguuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhh..........." I gasp, feeling like a huge log in my guts finally is being yanked out. I feel a weird strangling feeling, as if it's pulling my guts out with it. But a massive, and warm, wave of relief, as if finally something huge and cramping is out of me. Finally.
Streams of her sperm run down the insides of my thighs, white and gooey, like waterfalls. Tiny drips splat on the floor. White rivers from her white balls flow down my black inner thighs. I feel so much of her gooey wetness deep inside me. So deep, I don't know if I'd even be able to get it out. Not counting Ginger's. Ohhh....NO....... I just know, without a doubt now, to my sadness, that Sharon's sperm cells are baking a nice, big, caramel bun in my ov-.....I don't even want to say it. I got knocked up by a milf who's dick is WAAAY bigger than mine. And I let her knock me up like a slut, cumming on her cock while she treated me like shit.
She shot her nuts in me...To end my father’s bloodline. Replace it with her's.
She throws a towel over my back, then she walks away while becoming limp and relieved after blowing her load.
"Clean yourself up. You disgust me."
I slowly grab the towel and stand up, feeling even more streams dribble down my inner thighs. I feel like a shameful slut. I silently frown and start drying to wipe her cum off my naked thighs. My pants around my ankles have a massive palm full of white snot-like nut soaking them. I'll HAVE to leave out of here with a cum stain in the back of my pants and my groin. HER cum.
"Oh, and by the way... Happy Mother's Day, simp."
"You alright, bruh?" quizzes the red-eyed and slow speaking Owen. Obviously, he's had more than tea this morning.
"Huh? .....uh...I'm alright, I guess." I mumble back.
In truth, I'm not alright. I'm a little stressed. It's been an uneventful and a little boring the past 2 days. As if nothing out of the ordinary has happened. But, the fact still remains, I had the stuffing fucked out of me by my "step-mom", Mrs. Smithington...er, Ginger, I mean. And.... I REALLY liked it. My step-mom... took my virginity. With her dick.
That is 6 ways of messed up, no matter how you really look at it, y'know?
And on top of that, the boss of our subdivision, our "queen", who almost all the women over 30 here treat like some sort of sinless high school god, gave me a ultimatum of being kicked out into the deserts of who-knows-where, or to pump me over her desk like a alley hooker. And so, I was her alley hooker. It took a entire day just to try to push all the cum out of me in the bathroom.
So, obviously, I'm not "okay." And then, the back of my mind keeps worrying about this whole...the whole... genital swap thing. I mean, I have my male genitals, still. But they do seem kind of... worthless is the word I want to say. But, just shriveled up. I can't get hard like I used to, and when I did cum, it's like one drip of clear fluid. And then that whole mess about guys...getting....
"Weren't you listening?"
"I'm sorry, I got lost in my own head. What's going on?"
"I was saying, they just found out Little Darryl from the other neighborhood is pregnant."
"Oh... congratulations, I guess." I sigh, shaking my sweaty, naturally red dreadlocks, and wiping the sweat from my almost literally black face. I go back to this farming crap.
"Yeah, he's all plumped out and everything."
"He?! Wai-wai-wait-wait-wait, did you just say he?!"
".....you high, bruh? You know what the Zookeepers said."
"Ohh..yeah. Yeah.... yeah, yeah, yeah... right, right...uh, sorry...."
Now, my stress levels really spike again.
"They said some guys can get pregnant, right?"
"Nooo... damn, du! They said ALL the guys here can get knocked up. And all the chicks here can't get pregnant anymore, but any chick can knock a dude up, dude."
"Y-y-yeah.....I remember. So, uh…. how did Darryl get pregnant? They get married and went at it all day or something, eh?"
I sigh, while bent over admiring how beautiful the green peas look. My basket is filled with such pretty, neon pods. It reminds me of a delicious Chinese Buffet plate with the pea pods, baby corn, and… the thing. You know? The water bug thing. Pron? Porn? Prawn? Whatever, it’s good.
"Nah. After he sucked off the neighbor girl, she just stuck her cum covered fingers up him, and oops, there it is."
"THAT is all it took?!?!"
I stopped listening due to the storm of my own thoughts flooding in. My forehead rains sweat now, and it's not just from the heat of the sun. I start going over my night with Ginger and our "queen" over and over and over, like a crime scene. Trying to find security that THAT won't happen to me. But the obvious answer won't go away. If it wasn't me, I'd securely say the poor bastard was most likely a mother now to some lady's baby.
I drop my basket full of peas and start crying.
"Yoooo! You okay, bruh?!"
"Owen.... I think I might....might be pregnant."
"Oh SHIT!" he whispered, dropping his basket of peas, and rushing to me. Well, more like half falling and stumbling, like a tree monster. Definitely had more than tea this morning.
"Who's the daddy, bruh? What's her name?"
His words slur, his eyes are red, and though he struggles to whisper, his whispers sound more like loud sloppy static over a megaphone. Bless his heart, he's trying. But that Snoopy has gone Red Baron on him, me thinks.
What's HER name, he says. HEH! The father of my possible child. It's so messed up and backwards that if I wasn't crying, I'd be laughing.
Why me? Why? WHY?
"I don't think I can say..."
"You got to, bruh!"
"I don't think I can say, Owen..."
"WHAT ARE YOU BOYS DOING?!"
Down through the field came came Siggy Frither again. Her long, thick and straight tawny hair in a braided ponytail down her back. She's not that attractive, to be honest. She's...well, she reminds me of a plain middle aged German woman from this one video game I play, about, like a tribal Goth who can scream like, dragon barks, or something. Trillrim, or something, I think it's called. Anyway, she was dressed in her typical floppy sun dress, sun hat, and dirty from messing around in parts of the garden around the field's house.
"Nothing, Sigz." frowns Owen, giving her attitude.
"Mrs. Frither, Mr. Alvarez." her eyes glower.
"C'mon, lady..." Owen sighs, "Look where we is, man! On the real." His long, wet black hair glistens in the sun as he seems to stagger back and forth. His not-tea has him wobbling in the sun.
"You're high, aren't you?!" she sneers, looking him up and down.
"C'mon, c'monnnn, guys stop..." I try to say, clearing my throat and trying to reign in my emotions. But... it's hard. REALLY hard. Like... I've never been this fucking emotional in my life. I just... I just start guffawing and crying right there, like a kid who's been spanked.
"What did you do?!" she screams, looking down at me, sitting on my knees in the dirt, sobbing my heart out in my hands.
"I didn't DO anything, ho!" he screams back. He's a little guy, but he's got some lungs on him. The messed up part about all of this is, this has got to be at least 9 in the morning.
"I'M A HO?!?!?!" she screeches back.
"Naw, you're a bitch." he spits on the ground, turning around to gangster walk away from her.
"YOU CALLED ME A HO!!!" she screamed, her entire face blazing red. Her hand whips out, clutching him around the back of his shirt collar and yanking him backwards. She's surprisingly strong for her size. Much stronger than I thought she'd be.
"FUCK OFFA ME!" he mumbles, his reflexes slowed down and his strength seemingly weaker from his relaxed muscles.
"I'M A HOE, HUH?!?!" Her bright blue eyes blazed with fury. She stormed back to the house, jerking him with her. "I'LL SHOW YOU A HO! I'LL SHOW YOU WHO'S A HO, YOU BASTARD!!!"
"WHOAH!" I scream, "HOLD OON! Whatta you doing!"
"SHUT UP, YOU! I'VE BEEN HOLDING THIS IN FOR TOO LONG! I'M GONNA BEAT HIS ASS!!"
"Fuck OFFA me!" he screamed, kicking her in the shin. They both fell down into a patch of bushes, and a tussling began. The sound of a ripped shirt, and her flying sun hat, zipped over the wheat patch. I could hear them wrestling, cursing, and her slapping him.
"I'LL SHOW YOU A HO, YOU LITTLE NO-GOODNIK!"
The wrestling sounds get crazier.
"Get offa- WHAT ARE YOU DOING! GET HER OFFA ME!!!"
I try to get up, but feel a spasm in my abdomen, that shoots me back down to my knees. What the hell?
"I'LL SHOW WHO'S REALLY THE "HO"!!!"
"PULL IT OUT!"
"WE'RE GOING BALLS DEEP, "HO"!"
Her long, thin cock slunk deep and smoothly up his ass, as she held his wrists down in the dirt. She looked down at him, her face red and veins in her neck. Her long hair hung down in wispy strands as her thin ass banged and bonked between his now shorts-less legs. His shoes kicked and swung in the air, as she angrily sped up her thrusting and pumping. She was angry, and angry fucking him, lost in a hormone surge she never experienced before in her life. She was lost in a mix of unthinking red, a furious lust, the hypnotic fog of using her cock for the first time outside of masturbating, and just...like...like the kind of mindless bloodlust of revenge from seeing the Filipino guy writhing under her, his eyes squinched shut in anger, and his body meekly jerking in her grip.
It felt good in too many ways. She kept telling herself she'd pull out. Just...just....just a few more strokes. Just a few more.
Owen stopped struggling and yelling, and begun to gasp. He sounded like a guy enjoying the best masturbation he ever had. His kicking brown legs slowly relaxed, and then wrapped around her waist. She was SO angry, she didn't notice.
Owen felt something new to him. He was...feeling amazing. As if the sensitivity of his ass was sending ocean waves of euphoria up through his groin, his taint, and the base of his shaft. Every time she pumped that long shaft up inside, it felt like his taint and groin lit up with a glow of sexual satisfaction. This feeling was new to him. But he felt this...this strange mix of extreme being turned on, and wanting to open up and be gentle and submissive. It was...it was.... how high was he? He never felt like this when he was high before, so...why now?
The wrestling and fighting turned into a furious paf-paf-paf-paf-paf rabbit fuck session in the wheat and soil.
"EeeEEUuhYYYYYYYAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!" Siggy screamed in surprise. She wasn't expecting her orgasm to round the corner before she was ready. As if it just jumped out around the corner, and rolled forth torrents of sperm. More than she'd ever shot before. Well, since she's been jacking off 3 or 4 times a day since she's been....HERE. Texas or Queensland or somewhere.
Her body spasmed and shook hard, plunging the entirety of her length up inside him. Her balls jolted and bounced, signaling she was pumping her genetic lineage home. Owen felt a strange spasm in his pelvis, before locking up and squealing in the hardest orgasm he's ever had. He could feel himself spasming brutally hard inside his pelvis. All the sopping wetness of her pumps disappeared into simple wet pumps. Where did all that extra sloppy slop go? He didn't think too much on it as he kept spasming, and she kept cumming. And the sloppy goopy thrusts suddenly just became simple lubed ones. Where was it GOING?! He didn't know, he was never one for school. And besides, he was too high to care. He was just...going to ride this rollercoaster on Siggy's dick.
He hated her before. But now? Now...he was kinda..."feeling her", as he would put it. He developed a orgasm crush is what I'd say.
By the time I could get to my feet, and rush over to them, Siggy had collapsed on top of him, gasping into his neck. Her pale white hands still gripping his honey brown wrists. His face was clenched in a grimace as he thrusted his hips up, his legs still wrapped around her pelvis, dirty shoes in the air, as she let out a long, low "Uuunnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn..." due to him constantly milking her dry. She didn't pull out either, but kept it deep, so every dollop was seeded as deep as possible.
And I stood there, just... just realizing it was too late. She dumped every drop of her cum in him, and there was no sperm to be seen anywhere. Did he suck up every bit of it? As long as her cock is, she must've REALLY secured her loads deep too. I don't know.
The back of my mind said "Oh no! Owen's pregnant! And he and Siggy aren't even married!" But the front of my mind kept flying around with excuses and scientific mumbo-jumbo to figure out he wasn't pregnant, and everything would just go back to normal.
Normal as it was when I first got here.
Then I remembered... I think I am pregnant.
I loudly began crying in my hands began, before they both stopped and turned to look at me. Then their faces opened in shock at what they just did. But I didn't stay to see what happened. I just cried and ran back home. Ran back to my bed. In my house.
My step-mom's house.
My step-mom who knocked me up with a white baby.
I must be high. And I'm dreaming. Because this has to be...has to be...a dream. I'll wake up, and it will all be over.
All of this.