Clementina, Chapter 3 - Metamorphosis - Sex Stories

Clementina, Chapter 3 - Metamorphosis

... stared back at me. I ran my hands across my breasts and gently pinched the nipples. A trickle of milk dripped from the tip as a new set of sensations rocked through me. I was turned on watching my mirror image squeeze her nipples. My mirror image’s cock rose. I pulled a breast to my lips with one hand, and stroked my cock with the other, all while watching myself in the mirror.

I was fucking hot.

My mom had stepped back and was watching me come to terms with my own new body. After a moment of sucking and stroking I stopped and met her eyes in the reflection.

“Whoa,” I whispered.

“Whoa,” she said back.

“But,” I said, letting go of myself and turning to her, “we have to destroy the phallites. Look at what they did to me. Look at what the did to you, to the others. We don’t know what other surprises there are. We have to get rid of them once and for all before they destroy us – or humans use them to destroy themselves.”

Before she could reply I pushed past my mother out of the bathroom. I didn’t even bother to get dressed. I just went up to the barn, grabbed a rake and some plastic bags, and headed down into the nexus. The wood chipper had been good enough for the dark phallites, it would be good enough for the light phallites too.

I was starting to herd the little fuckers in the slime into the plastic bag when my mother, Olympia, Clementina, and the rest of the crew appeared on the steps from the barn.

“Russel, what are you doing?” Clementina asked, ...

... stepping down into the slime.

“These things are dangerous,” I said. “We can’t lie to ourselves any more. Look at me. Look at yourselves. The phallites – all phallites – must die. And if that means I die when my phallite dies, then I’m willing to die if I must to save humanity. And after we kill all of these little monsters we go take care of that tentacled bitch in the other room.”

I pushed a couple of phallites into a plastic bag. The phallites thought I was playing a game and squirmed around happily, trying to figure out the rules.

Clementina put a hand on my arm and pulled the rake from my hands. Olympia stood beside her.

“You can’t do this,” Olympia said. “We don’t know enough about them to know whether they pose a real existential threat to the species. And as a scientist I want to know what makes them tick, I want to know how they cause these dramatic biological changes, I want to know how they trigger their host’s bodies to regenerate and slow aging. We could have the cure for cancer swimming at our feet. We may be able to eliminate aging, heart disease, dementia. Think about it.”

I shook my head.

“You sound like the misguided villain in every thriller every written,” I said, “who starts out with good intentions but ends up leaving a trail of bloodshed. Now get out of my way, these slimy little fuckers are going into the wood chipper like their brethren.”

“No phallites are going into the chipper,” Clementina said. I ignored her, pushing another three ...