(Re)created by Mr. S
Edited by SheilaStretch of SheilaStretch.LegitKink.net
The following is a re-imagining of Kris P. Kreme's classic "Propagators from the Planet Pluto." I originally set out to make some minor edits to a 5 page short story from chapter 2 to smooth some edges Sheila thought were a little rough, and to turn it into more of a story Sheila and I could enjoy together ...but somehow it turned into a 20 page mass of almost entirely new material. It was never intended to be posted online, but Sheila read it once and literally forbade me from not sharing it online... and so here we are!
[Opening her eyes again, she looked out at the world with new eyes... And new priorities.]
As Claire looked down at her Jeremy, her own flesh and blood son, she found herself lost in unfamiliar territory. Unable to mentally distance herself from the perverse thoughts and images even now weaving themselves into her very psyche, she was filled with a primal sense of arousal - animalistic voice of lust from deep inside her telling her - no - shouting at her with every fiber of its being that she needed to push him down and shove herself down on top of his erect cock, forcing it deep inside her and letting instinct take over, thrusting and thrusting until finally it spurted her full of thick, creamy, virile semen.
God... Semen. As she envisioned herself letting her own son fuck her- even cum inside of her, she unconsciously wiggled her hips as a stray hand worked its way towards her crotch.
As her hand found its way under her waistband, something clicked into place for the first time, and Clarire suddenly became consciously aware that she'd become utterly obsessed with cum. Cum. Semen. Seed. Oh, Goddd... Just the thought of being filled with load after load of the viscous, white goo brought a shiver of giddy excitement. Suddenly, it seemed like that was all she could focus on.
In every image she saw, every perverse thought that would have sent the old her running for the consul of the family pastor, there was one common theme that linked them all - the thought of being filled with pulse after twitching pulse of thick white semen exploding inside her - completely without protection.
Though she was unable to explain why, that particular detail seemed intensely important to the fantasy.
As thoughts of cock after cock pulsing and throbbing as they unloaded virtual gallons of gooey white seed deep inside her belly filled her head, a thin trail of fluid was already beginning to run down Claire's inner thigh- an absolute first for the young woman.
...But of course, being 'forced' to entertain an intrusive thought (a disturbingly arousing one, admittedly) about something as perverse as fucking your own son and actually doing it are two *completely* different things.
...And of course, if she actually did do something like that in real life, she knew there'd be very real consequences to the sorts of things she couldn't stop herself from imagining again and again. Unprotected sex with strangers was already one thing, but... with her own son? ...and even intentionally letting him cum inside her?
Claire couldn't help but imagine herself thrusting hard against the one she'd brought into this world so many years ago, forcing his young cock even deeper inside her depraved hole and just grinding against him until it spurted load after load of... God... She laughed aloud at herself- the thought was so absurd as to be totally ridiculous, no matter how strong these strange new feelings grew.
Claire's eyes closing again, she breathed in deeply, putting a hand on a counter as she tried to dispel the evil thoughts from her head. Obviously she wasn't going to actually fuck her own son. Obviously.
She took another deep breath, calming herself and trying to thinking things through as best she could while she adjusted to this newly lust fogged state of mind. Right now, it felt like she could fuck anyone- any man at all... but... not her own flesh and blood son. That would be too much, even for someone as depraved as she felt at the moment. Definitely too far.
"God... fucking my own son..." - even just whispering the words aloud to herself brought a tingle to her crotch as another uncontrolled shudder of arousal coursed its way through her system. Damn this traitorous body. As her eyes fell closed once more, Claire felt conflictingly both more disgusted, and at the same time, more aroused than she could ever remember feeling in her life ...But she couldn't do something like what she couldn't stop thinking about - she couldn't give in. It was wrong. She shouldn't. She knew that she shouldn't.
Doing it the way she wanted to - no, needed to - completely without protection again and again... that would have consequences. Real consequences.
Three fingers of her left hand had already snaked under the waistband of her skirt and were buried inside her, her sense of need still increasing in its burning intensity, even as she played with her dripping, suddenly all-too-empty slit. Eyes still closed, and as if her son weren't standing right in front her witnessing her every move, she added a fourth finger.
There was no helping her.
In her mind, Claire suddenly saw herself again and gasped aloud. The image she saw was a pretty, ambitious young woman's worst nightmare... but, it was clear that this would be a natural consequence if she kept on like she was. There was no question of that. This would be her fate.
As full and round as any woman she'd ever seen, Whore Claire was a caricature of her former self. Her already huge breasts had swollen and filled out to enormous size, their rapid expansion made even more evident by the eye-catching stretch marks of purple and silver that lined them both, a set of faint blue veins trailing along each massive breast, the both of them tipped with dark areola that seemed to drip endlessly with milk.
But even that was nothing compared to the almost impossibly swollen belly they rested across like a shelf. The Whore was like an ancient fertility Goddess made flesh, her obscenely filled belly obviously round with child, the woman's once flawless middle covered with (what should have been) a horrifying map of stretchmarks . Twins. Maybe even triplets. That poor woman. That poor her. Claire felt another shudder ripple through her body.
She was huge.
...And clearly loving every moment of it. From her outside vantage, Claire saw The Whore languishing in bed, propped up against pillows, obviously in the throes of passion. With one hand on her hugely swollen middle, and the other hand buried all the way inside herself, Claire had a clear view of The Whore's balled fist easily sliding all the way in and out of her loosened fuckhole. The slit Claire had once described to a friend using the word "cute" was now an unmistakably used, wrecked excuse for a hole.
The area around her heavily pierced and obviously much-abused entrance, was lined and textured with rings of silvery stretch marks that radiated outward, the delicate looking marks an obvious sign of The Whore's total inability to control her own body's lusts. The Whore's once tight 'pussy' was more of a gaping hole now than anything- a cavernous maw that just sagged open from the abuse, the lips simply gaping open when left empty.
With her free hand, Whore Claire began to caress her hugely pregnant middle, her painted nails tracing across the lines of her body's stretch marks at random with her finger tips, almost... lovingly.
After a moment, the hand caressing her oversized belly moved to the nightstand where she retrieved a thick, cream colored body massager. With barely restrained lust, The Whore switched the wand on and, to Claire's surprise, didn't move it towards her already loose, wrecked hole - but it to the side of her pregnant belly. Still fisting herself with her other hand, The Whore began to moan.
Even after all she'd seen until now, the action still surprised, and confused Claire... what was she doing? ...But the vibrations from the wand clearly seemed to be doing something for The Whore. Even now, the slut of a woman was crying aloud with obvious pleasure as the young occupying her overfull womb moved and stretched inside her as they reacted to the powerful vibrations.
As her brood wriggled and moved inside her, the perverse young woman was stretched and filled from the inside in a way nothing else could even hope to imitate, her young's kicks and pushes and wiggling movements stretching her already deliciously full womb even more as they visibly squirmed and moved beneath the surface of her overripe belly.
And even as all this was happening, Claire found herself staring, almost transfixed by the way Whore Claire's oversized breasts trembled and wobbled with the vibrations that traveled through her body, even as the pair rested heavily over her shelf of a belly. The thin, twin streams of milk dribbling from each dark, pierced nipple grew more generous with the extra stimulation, the streams becoming rivulets of creamy breast milk than ran down her stretch mark lined chest and belly as The Whore squealed with unrepentant joy.
"God, what a fucking slut."
Claire should have been disgusted. She knew that. She should have screaming run in horror. She knew that too. But now... now... instead, the perverse scene before her seemed like the sexist, most disgustingly arousing thing she could have *possibly* imagined. It went against everything she'd ever known, against every fiber of her moral being, but... she knew she couldn't bring herself to look away.
As Claire watched, The Whore moved the vibrator from her sides, lazily tracing her way up towards the top of her pregnant middle, teasing around the edges with the buzzing wand before finally moving to touch it directly against her pierced belly button. A louder, more metallic buzzing filling the room as the metal of her piercings vibrated directly against the plastic of the wand, the sensations bringing the over-slutted up whore's moans and squeals to a shuddering crescendo.
Claire's eyes were transfixed by the network of stretchmarks on her own body's massively over-pregnant form. As she watched the scene unfold before her, Claire touched her own belly, flat and obsessively well, maintained - unable to stop herself from imagining just how full she could be, her fingers unconsciously tracing an imaginary network of stretch marks on her own, all-too-empty tummy...
She remembered back to when she'd gotten pregnant with Jeremy so many years ago- how horrified she'd been at the prospect of stretch marks- how much she'd wanted to do anything to keep them away... But, now it felt... it felt like she didn't have nearly as many as a body like hers needed. A pregnant brood slut needed her proper markings so the world would know what she was, didn't she?
Claire's body gave another involuntary shudder of only barely concealed lust.
There was a flash, and she suddenly found herself in what was clearly a hospital setting. There, propped up against a mass of pillows on a bed was Whore Claire, both hands on her belly, obviously preparing to giv birth the contents of her overfull belly.
Here it was - the obvious downside to bizarre, horrific (and yet, deeply arousing) scene she'd been 'forced' to bear witness to before... Even if the idea of pregnancy was a little sexy, there'd still come time to give birth - and that would always be the real deal breaker, wouldn't it?
...But in her mind's eye, as she watched the scene with an air of detachment, she saw something on Whore Claire's face... An expression of... joy? of exaltation? Whatever it was, it seemed a sharp contrast from Claire's memories of giving birth to Jeremy.
The 'new' Claire seemed to be exactly in her element as she prepared to birth the contents of her hugely over-stretched womb. A look of determination lined The Whore's face as she began to push, beginning the process of birthing her womb full of young from her (once) 'cute,' 'tight' vagina. It certainly wasn't tight or cute anymore.
Claire watched her own expression of concentration break as a look of pure bliss washed over her. As the first baby slid out in a gush of fluid, the motion stretching the collar of her cervix and birthing canal wide, Claire saw herself lose control of her limbs as it slid out of her, The Whore's arms and legs flailing wildly in all directions as she surrendered herself to the soul searing orgasm that washed over her.
Regaining control a moment later, but somehow still obviously ready for more, Claire watched the slutty, pregnant cow's hand dart to heavily pierced cunt, rubbing and massaging the loose pink cavern before balling into a fist and roughly pummeling it in and out of the already gaping, stretched maw, tugging at her nipple piercings with another hand as her body prepared to give birth again. There was nothing gentle about how The Whore turned the sacred act of giving birth into a hedonistic frenzy. It was like nothing Claire had ever witnessed.
As the woman pushed and strained again to birth the remaining contents of her (still) overfilled womb, Whore Claire's expression transformed once again into that of a woman experiencing undeniably soul searing pleasure, The Whore's wantonly joyful sounds seeming to peak as her cervix and vagina were stretched to their widest. Claire could swear she even saw The Whore drooling a little as she pushed out the second one, clearly oblivious to anything but the habit-forming joy of being stretched oh-so wide... But even then, The Whore still wasn't done.
Even as Claire saw the woman tugging at her massive tit piercings and frantically rubbing at her pierced clit and labia, it was clear she still hadn't had enough.
As The Whore began to push out the third and final baby out of her womb, its movement slowly and deliciously stretching her cervix before sliding into her needy birth canal, stretching her out from the inside just the way she needed it to, it quickly became clear as it crowned that this third and final wriggling member of her brood was very much the largest of the three, it's oversized form stretching her already abused opening far more than the first two had.
As the oversized mass slowly stretched and further wrecked her once 'cute' hole, (now lined with fresh stretch marks that radiated outward from thegaping hole left by the previous birthings, 'cute' definitely wasn't the word anymore), her face twisted itself into a mask of unbridled lust and arousal.
Taking the hand she'd been using to play with her piercings, Claire watched as The Whore moved it down to her birthing hole and held it against herself, using it to slow the baby's exit from her already totally wrecked entrance. The resistance of Whore Claire's open palm against her already ruined cunt slowed the exit of the final and largest of her womb's contents, the perversely hedonistic woman clearly savoring the sensations as she was stretched to her body's limits and beyond.
And then, with her other hand tugging violently at her nipples, as if trying to pick up each huge, milk filled tit by the piercings themselves, Claire saw the woman's hand gesture at a stranger standing by the bedside as she tried to shout something out.
Even before she was done birthing the last of the contents her all-too-rapidly emptying womb, she gasped out- outright demanding that the man fuck the next baby into her as soon as this one was out. It was obvious the man was just someone who happened to be nearby at the time - not anyone of any particular importance to her. It was clear that The Slut was hooked.
Claire felt a now familiar shiver of wanton lust roll through her body yet again as saw herself as a slutty, stretch mark covered, loose cunted baby machine for anyone who would take her - her only purpose being to experience pleasure and to push out more and more young, further wrecking her once 'tight' body in the most disgustingly sexy way she could imagine. Ohhh Goddd...
The expressions and sounds she watched The Whore making as she pushed out the first... then second... each birth was punctuated by a shock of almost unbearable arousal and excitement that coursed through Real Claire's body.
After the birth of the third and final, Claire saw herself - her pierced, stretch mark crossed belly rapidly deflating, her face still masked by uncontrolled lust, her hole loose gaping, ringed with a series of fresh stretch marks - her totally wrecked hole completely and totally refusing to even try to close up again. More than likely, it'd been totally and finally stretched - permenantly ruined beyond natural repair after that final, artificially slowed birthing she'd put herself through (a detail Claire couldn't help but obsess over in her mind) as she begged to be filled with the another 'batch' of young.
Claire shook herself out of her... dream. And suddenly a puzzle piece clicked into place. That sensation in her womb- suddenly she knew what had to happen. And suddenly, it really didn't seem like such a bad thing, even if it was her own son who might end up being the one to do it to her ....And in some perverse way, the thoughts, the doubts she still about how 'wrong' what she seriously thinking about doing almost made the whole thing even better... The old Claire was gone. And the new Claire...