Risen update (Patreon)

Max didn’t really think of herself as sexy. She knew that, as close to objectively as possible, she was—genetic perfection, the next step in human evolution, everything that made her such a good soldier also making her a top-quality breeding partner. She just didn’t think of herself that way. She knew she was a killer, a freak, something that went into heat, so the fact that her tits and ass were top-tier took a backseat to those facts.

But seeing herself in a nurse outfit had her rethinking that. Not even a nurse outfit. Max had been around enough real nurses to know they wore scrubs in primary colors like a Power Ranger. This woman was wearing a starch-white minidress, short enough that her white stockings showed up to the garters that disappeared under the hem. Low-cut enough that her red bra could be glimpsed to either side of the plunging V-neck. A white nurse’s cap, with a red cross, on her blonde head. Short sleeves to show off her long, tawny arms. Red pumps covering no doubt dainty feet.

Max didn’t recognize herself, not hardly. Not in the porn star getup, not with golden hair like some gringa. She didn’t look like herself, more like a Karen or a Nancy. Yes, that was what she looked like. A Nancy.

Nancy was outside of Max or Max was outside of her—a reflection of a numb body. She watched Nancy walk, buttocks squirming under the tight white dress, the material coming to an end right on the backs of her thighs. Max followed, maybe walking, maybe somehow being drawn after her. She couldn’t feel herself and she couldn’t feel the blonde either. She just watched.

She didn’t recognize where she was. It didn’t look like Manticore, or like anywhere in Seattle that she’d ever been. The walls were unvarnished redwood, reaching up to a high ceiling. The furniture was old and well cared for—rattan and faded leather. It seemed homey… comfortable… the light was that of the afternoon, a cool, dim warmth filtering in through unobtrusive windows. Cots lined the walls of this long hall, but there wasn’t the antiseptic starkness she associated with hospitals or childhood.

Brin was there, in one of the beds. Seeing Max, she threw the covers off her naked body. It was more desirable than Max would’ve expected it to be… not just tautly muscled, femininely slender, but with skin like satin, each pert breast crowned by a little strawberry nipple. Her thighs were sleek and kissable, perfectly framing a nest of downy hair, her hidden slit a pink, glistening line that prompted both curiosity and invitation.

“Oh, Max, your tits are gonna get so big when you’re pregnant. I can just tell. They’re nice now, but he’ll just love them when they’re full of milk. Here. Let me feel what they’re like before you’re bred…”

She ran up to Max, rubbing her slight breasts into Max’s more luscious ones. Nancy looked over her shoulder, smiling at how Brin crushed her breasts into Max’s. Max felt her nipples stiffen and Brin wrapped her arms around Max’s neck, pressing her own engorged nipples tighter against Max—then her bare pussy against Max’s denim-clad groin.

“Maybe I should try putting a baby in you,” Brin teased, wiggling her hips and grinding her sex into Max’s. “The way they spiced us up when we were cooked, who knows—it could work!”

Max couldn’t help herself—she reached out and caressed Brin’s supple breasts, satisfying her own curiosity for the woman’s hard nipples, feeling how they throbbed between her thumbs and forefingers. More than that, they quickened with milk; Max felt a sprig of it spill out between her fingers.

“They’re great nipples, aren’t they?” Brin asked. “They feel like little bullets when I touch them. How do they feel to you?”

Then Max felt Nancy’s hand stroking down her spine. She closed her eyes in bliss and saw, like a flash of light through her eyelids, Nancy on the bed, her back against the headboard. She had her knees pulled up to her breast, her dress up around her waist. Her thighs were spread wide. She wore no panties. Her cream-colored stockings were held up by a lacy white garter belt.

Brin knelt on the bed in front of Nancy, face buried in her crotch. She was eating Nancy’s pussy.

“It’s nice and juicy for you!” Nancy groaned in Max’s voice. “Suck it good, Max!”

Max opened her eyes to see Brin back where she belonged, Nancy where she had left her, like toys put back in their places when playtime was over.

“Max, come along,” Nancy said and when Max looked away from Brin, they were all there, all the X5s. The girls were naked, dancing for the men. Syl, Cece, Jace, Tinga, Jondy, Vada, even Eva. They’d all grown up to have firm young bodies. Round asses. High, plump breasts. They writhed and posed, showing off the pink inside their pussies by opening their legs wide and bending over to touch the floor.

“On your knees,” Nancy ordered, “in a line! Time to see which of you has the best cocksucker genes.”

The X5s acted like they had done this before. They sat back on their heels, spread their toned thighs wide apart. All of them rested their hands on their knees and arched their backs to thrust their chests out. They were lined up all side by side.

“Down, like me,” Cece urged Max. “Get beside me.”

Tinga knelt down with the other girls, spreading her shapely legs, exposing the bloom of her labia under the petals of her bush. She thrust her full breasts out, earning her hungry looks from the male X5s.

The males stepped up to the waiting females. Every girl submissively tilted her pretty face back, opening her mouth and rolling out her pink tongue. Max watched them be filled with stiffening pricks.

“Uuuumph!” Max heard Vada moan. The redhead had a massive cock in her mouth, she was sucking it passionately.

Max looked at the next girl in line—Cece—and saw that she was doing the same thing. Max felt her sex beginning to burn, watching her sister take a mammoth erection all the way into her throat. She still seemed to want more.

“Thank you, next!” Nancy called.

The men pulled their white-wet cocks from the girls’ mouths. They were replaced with new men, identical to the first group in every way. Max watched her sisters suck these new-old erections. They seemed almost delirious from passion. Max could understand why, in a funny way that didn’t seem like her. Not her thought, more like an answer she’d memorized for a test.

But all the same, it occurred to her that these women had never had so many big, beautiful dicks to suck on in their lives. Their pussies must’ve been on fire, just like Max’s was, and from the passionate sucking Max heard from every coupling, the girls were venting their arousal with the blowjobs they were giving.

The X5 men roughly grabbed the girls by their hair, jerking their heads around to force their virile cocks up and down their throats. There were more of the men now—twins. Jace was fed two cocks at once, then Jondy, then all of them. And there were still more men. Triplets. They gathered around the kneeling women, feeling their nubile bodies, running their hands over what they couldn’t fuck. Yet.

Max watched as, right at her feet, Syl was pressed to the floor. The man who had done it pulled her sleek legs open and savagely fucked his way into her wet pussy. Another X5 sat on her chest to fuck her big tits with a foot-long cock. He blew hot cum onto her chest, but it didn’t make his erection any softer. He rubbed his semen into her flesh with the still throbbing cockhead.

Then the first man shot his load deep into Syl’s hot little pussy; another stuffed his fat cock into her hungry mouth. Max couldn’t look anymore. She turned away and saw Eva getting fucked in the ass while two men jerked off over her until they unloaded buckets of cum into her beautiful face. And Brin was being held down by four men, on her back, while a fifth man slapped her firm young tits with his open hand. Tinga was on her hands and knees, sucking two men at once while a third rammed himself into her cunt.

They were all being fucked, all of them, in every hole, and it still wasn’t enough to satisfy them. They were insatiable, even in the middle of an orgy. A cauldron of lust and savagery that could never not be simmering.

From the dark recesses of her mind, a note of desire floated into Max’s consciousness. As depraved as this was, as debauched, she had done worse when she was in heat. If the fever were upon her now, she would be gleefully joining in, doing whatever it took to ensure she got that perverse attention. She would suck or lick anything, so long as she felt the same on her pussy. And the memories were so vivid—the possibilities were so real—that she could feel the charge of sex boiling deep in her belly, like lava churning and flaming down around her loins.

She felt her pussy growing wet; involuntarily her thighs pressed together. A groan sounded from deep in her throat. The pressure was making Max’s clit throb and it felt delicious. She closed her eyes for a long moment, heard the groans and moans and fleshy sounds of sex and pleasure all around her, then opened her eyes to see the room was empty again. No boys. No girls. Just Nancy. She’d turned around. She was staring at Max.

“Nice outfit,” she said, and Max looked down to see her clothes were different. She wasn’t in her familiar dark leathers. No, it was nothing so safe. It felt decadent—sensual—slutty, just feeling it on her own skin.

Before Max could categorize what she was wearing, Nancy turned on her heel and walked the other way. Max instinctively, automatically followed her. Nancy was at the end of the hall now, and there seemed for a moment to be a doorway she could go through, but when she walked through it, she was gone—leaving a reflection of Max there so suddenly, it was like she’d transformed into her, or slammed shut a door that had somehow once been a mirror.

It was a different girl in the mirror; one Max barely recognized. If Nancy had been her twin, this was a stranger with her face. Her chocolate brown hair fell in wild billows about her face. Makeup accentuated her exotic features. She wore high heels and black fishnet stockings held up by garter belts. A silk kimono slipped from one shoulder; it hung open between her bare breasts. The thin layer of glossy translucency showed their shadow, their outline, only vaguely concealing the actual sight of them.

Max stepped closer, examining this new, sensual her—and as she came closer, like an optical illusion, the sight of her own body in erotic lingerie disappeared and instead there was Nancy again, as close as her real reflection would be, like the mirror was a window now.

Nancy leaned forward, as if she were trying to bite Max, making her jerk back—but all the blonde did was kiss the glass between them, leaving an imprint of her soft peach lipstick marring the otherwise featureless pane of glass.

Max let out a harsh breath. She closed her eyes as if to ward off a headache. It felt like she was going into heat, but like she wasn’t going into heat at the same time. She could control herself, there was all her restraint and logic, right where she’d left it. She just couldn’t escape the thought of how good it was—breeding—being bred—looking the way Nancy did, or like she did herself now in this strange ensemble she’d dreamed herself into.

Yes, this was clearly a dream—way worse than that one about the guy with no head—but it kept feeling real no matter how weird it got.

Max blinked. She’d been lost in her own mind… appropriate, considering this was a dream… and now that she’d stopped zoning out, she saw that the window/mirror was covered in condensation. Not thinking, she reached out to wipe away some of the fog, then paused. There were sounds coming from beyond the glass. Movement through the layer of cloudy glaze that reduced everyone and everything to half-seen silhouettes.

Ashamed of herself and not sure why, Max wiped the obscuring gloss from the window. Then she looked through it.

She gasped out loud at what she saw.

Nancy was partly undressed, her white dress off, leaving her in her red lingerie and white stockings. And Logan was with her. He pulled at the waistband of her red lace panties, only failing to make progress because he was so distracted by kissing her taut stomach, the supple, glossy abs so much like those that Max recognized from her own body.

So much of Max told her to look away, but somehow she couldn’t. It just wasn’t possible for her to tear her eyes away from what she was seeing. This woman… she had what Max wanted… she had Logan!

Nancy’s breasts bounded into the air as she stretched her hands upward and grabbed hold of a dangling light fixture. The shift in her posture only raised her breasts by an iota, they were already so pert. They actually slipped out of her skimpy bra and Max found her eyes irresistibly dragged to those soft golden mounds—the large brown nipples—then Logan pulled hard and Nancy’s panties came down her long slim legs. With her panties shorn from her and her bra half-off her, it was impossible for Nancy to look even a bit more ready for sex than she already was.

For a frozen moment, nothing happened. Logan stared at her worshipfully. Max gritted her teeth. She knew that was how Logan would look at her if he saw her naked; that awe was meant for her. She couldn’t even conceive of Nancy deserving it, even if her body was literally every bit as good as Max’s.

Logan started to stand, but Nancy held out a hand, signaling him to stop. Then she smiled and made a sort of consoling gesture. He looked confused, but seemed willing to do as he was told. His eyes never left the soft brown triangle of her pubic thatch.

Nancy said something, but Max couldn’t hear the words. Whatever it was, it put a smile on Logan’s face. His eyes followed Nancy fondly as she walked further away from the window, to a couch on the far side of the room.

With Nancy putting even more distance between this stolen tryst and Max—not even letting her get a good look at it—a sudden fit of rage overcame the transgenic. She smashed a hand against the glass, but it held without a crack, like solid steel. For all her strength, Max wouldn’t be let through to what Logan and Nancy were sharing.

Nancy dropped down onto all fours on the overstuffed couch. Her head bowed, her ass up in the air. Just holding herself like that was a proposition, an offering—she was submitting to Logan by showing him exactly what he wanted to see. Appealing to his gaze so much that it was a surrender.

Max knew she would never, could never demean herself like that for a guy, but it was working for Logan. He padded toward the couch, his back straight, his saunter full of pride and confidence. And why shouldn’t he be smug? He was going to fuck that beautiful creature—unlike with Max, he would get exactly what he wanted from her. Quiet, malleable, and agreeable… and just as pretty as Max. Not afraid to show it and not afraid to let it be put to use.