BSU: Second Audition Book 01

"I get the hunger, sister. You leaped without looking?" She suggested as her impressive boobs seemed to bounce in sympathy. The woman no longer in red was ready to kick herself! Of course it was too good to be true! The smell wasn't human! And she didn't sense any male arousal. But still, so close... just the hope of it had been enough.

"I..."

"So what's your name?" Hendricks-double asked.

"Nora." answered the chocolate dream-girl.

"Sorry Nora, but we're not hiring, and there's no Amnesty. So we still gotta pretend we haven't replaced just about every man in the building."

While the REAL men were secreted away in secure locations, seeding their harems in non-stop orgies. Their shapeshifting concubines assuming their roles in the community. Except for strays. Like Nora.

But Hendricks seemed unusually moved by Nora's plight.

"Alright, tell you what - " the fiery-redheaded shapeshifter reached into her cleavage, and produced an amazing quantity of dollar bills from between her feminine globes. "I make my harem a lot of money, and I know of a town about a hundred miles north of here; it's almost entirely human. Get yourself a ride up there; a good place to make a fresh start. You might even be able to start a harem yourself." But Nora was suspicious.

"Why not go yourself?" The fiery beauty raised her eyebrows.

"Like I said, I got a good job, good harem with a Master that can't keep his hands off me."

That was really all her kind had ever wanted.

"So I'd better get while the getting's good..." Nora mused, clutching the wad of cash with wide-eyed enthusiasm. A fresh start. New town, almost none of her kind...

**********

She was apparently drunk, staggering down an alleyway - wine bottle in hand. Her sleek, brunette beauty was awesome, of course.

And Nora watched her dejectedly from the second story window above. Just a little packing to do; far - far less than would be required for a human. Really, the packing was an excuse to mope around and reflect on her unsatisfying prospects. No shifter needed to buy clothes - everything she wore was actually a part of her shapeshifting body. Any outfit, any cut or texture was as much mimicry as the face of Christina Hendricks she now wore out of a sort of fatalistic envy.

But she would take the advice of her benefactor - any stray would! Fresh city, fresh start! A chance to get away from the big harems and their increasing influence. Like the supermodel hive that the shifter in the alley below belonged to. The Reilly harem owned outright this building she was rooming in temporarily.

A newcomer came into view from the side opening into the street. A cinnamon-tanned Latina in a white cocktail dress that encouraged the eye towards her hard nipples beneath.

"3rd street intersection, Sally was sure she heard Spanish!" came the update. Sleek Brunette nodded, eyes widening excitedly. Her face blurred for a moment, becoming the pouty-lipped, sultry eyed image of actress Eva Mendez.

"I'll head him off from the south, can you and the others cut off escape?" Cinnamon girl nodded, and the two shifter women set off; cocktail dresses hugging their ample hips. But 'Eva' stopped for a moment, looked at her chest, and willed a few more cup sizes to get a near-hand span of cleavage to rise above the hem of her apparent dress. Why not improve on the real thing?

In truth, Nora suspected that the Reilly harem probably was a good thing in the short-term. Their progenitor had seduced a good-natured man and had produced progeny that took over the volunteer work at the homeless shelter. That gave them access to certain civic funds, and a lot of beds.

And after the homeless men and failed drunkards had been cleaned, bathed, and fed by Reilly harem huntresses, their quality of life was a far sight better. And their orgasms sustained the shifting females. Status in society didn't matter to you when sex was life.

But regardless, that meant less cock for any strays. The homeless didn't last long on the streets. (Not for the reasons that would have been common a few years ago!) But a part of Nora was unsure how to respond; she'd heard of 'virgin cities' before. Yeah, every stray had. And because of that by the time you got there, the early birds had already nested, and angry mobs of solid women were stirring up trouble. Displaced human females were dangers in these new towns, but by the time they had been outnumbered in the older cities, there was almost no free dick left. They all needed humans, but that human response was the greatest danger.

But Nora also wondered what the response would eventually be from higher-up human leaders for the big-harem cities? There, through her other window she could see an ominous, plump-looking aircraft coming in for a landing. It could be military. Most shifters rarely contemplated the possibility of violence, as a species they were lovers, not fighters. Their strength was in submission and accommodation. Violence just wasn't a part of Nora's makeup. (Of which she needed very little, being able to copy any face)

In the end, as far as she was concerned there was only one choice: She would continue to seek out new frontiers, new dick. She couldn't let it depress her - the fact that she'd been alive for almost an entire Earth year, without nesting with a man. (That had to be some kind of record!) Even so, there was a strange, lingering sense of dread that... the having would not be as good as the wanting. A maddening thought. But then, she'd never heard of a shifter lasting so long - and still surviving. It was an ironic perspective that a race of incurable nymphomaniacs would likely regard as...perverse. Most shifters never had the time to consider whether it was all worthwhile - if she wanted to survive, she mated. She moves in with a guy, lonely geeks work the best. And the rest...is history. But not for Nora. Too much competition to seal the deal. But she survived on the fringes...for far longer than the rest of her kind. Perhaps she was starting to view time the way humans did.

But what else could she do? The reason she had survived so long was her determination to do just that. In the end, she would go to this new, virgin town, and there she would morph into whatever vision of beauty she needed to be. Get whatever cock she could before the big harems forced her out. Like always.

And so that still left the question of what to bring? There were no cosmetics, no hair care. Like her face and clothes, her hair was a mutable part of her shapeshifting body, and could simulate any style, length, or color. Yet, there were some items few of her kind would want to do without.

She paged through her celebrity gossip mags, yet again - despite their dog-eared condition. Indispensable for knowing the how's... and who's of luring men between her legs. And she had grown emotionally attached to hers. Any man, anywhere... she could sniff out his desire, and confront him with his deepest lusts. Trouble was - so could all the other hungry, horny shifters. There was more that she was missing, clearly. More reasons why men desired women than the obvious: She found an article on aging, old-time actress Sophia Loren. Still popular, still famous after more years than most shifters could conceive of. Curious...

Nora's body blurred as she dropped her Hendricks persona and became Loren in a long gown. What would it be like to roam the streets in this guise? How would that change her perspective? How would people treat her looking like this?

That was when her door exploded. That was when armed, gas-masked soldiers entered... guns drawn and pointed at her!

**********

Sex was like a drug. To them, at least. Ronald Metzger was sure. He knew what it looked like when someone was wasted by a mind-blowing narcotic high. And that was the case here, with these women-creatures. Except the drug of choice was... uhhh.... him. Or... sex with him. It was as though his cock was main-lining liquid cocaine to the pleasure-centers of their brains!

First day, he hadn't even been sure where he was - the sex had been so incredible! He'd never been much to write home about; but these Italian supermodels acted like his dick was the secret to eternal life! How...how had this madness first begun? Sixty outrageously gorgeous young women, living alone in this...this mansion? Well... at least sixty. It might actually be far more... Why here? Why not Hollywood? Or some glitzy runway in front of millions of fans?

They - and he was living some sort of late Saturday-night raunchy "Weird Science" comedic parody of anything approaching real life. They wanted to make money yes, but they didn't seem to have any of the normal aspirations of girls of their age...and looks.

And it was because they weren't human!

He'd been asking about Sara... she had the most gorgeous, kissable lips. And when they thought he wasn't watching; he'd seen Bella actually erhh.. morphing into her! He'd been worried but...ohh... his dick was sooo hard! He fucked her... or maybe she did it to him. It wasn't that these girls submitted to sex with him; the haunted gleam in their eyes, the way the muscles in their throats would strain when they slithered atop him, he could sense it - that they wanted it...more than he did? How was that possible? Before he'd gone in for his surgeries, and then physical therapies, he'd had women laugh in his face at the prospect of a date! If anything, he was less attractive now than he'd been before hospitalization. But now, he found himself being raped daily by a harem of pornstars treating him like some Greek god!

Then again, the way he'd been performing - maybe something had changed in him; his dick had never been so steely-hard. And... and the orgasms! Somehow, he'd managed five orgasms in his first day! Erhhh... or was it the same day? Was that possible? He really didn't know how long he'd been here. But the pleasure! As pussy after pussy writhed atop him, it felt as though he'd been sucked up by a wet tornado of erotic massage. He'd seen them transforming; and when he was with them - he felt transformed into a lightning rod for white-hot ecstasy man was not meant for.

But the experience was as wrong as it was right. There had been one...day? Time? erhhh... it had been the fifth time he'd regained consciousness after passing out from an orgasm of thermonuclear proportions. The weirdest part wasn't that he could still be hard after so much beyond-sex. He had seen them, counted them, there had been nine of the seemingly Italian beauty-queens in the plush bedroom with him, and the only door out of the luxuriant chamber had been gently barricaded with a peculiar arrangement of pillows. But after rising back to consciousness from sex-austed post-coital bliss, there were clearly eleven girls sprawled in scantily-clad splendor upon the four-post bed and pillowed floor. Yet there was no doubt that the random arrangement of pillows was precisely the same as before. And the tallest girl, that incredible super-amazon with hair down the middle of her back, she was just...somehow... gone?

Instead, there were two ravishing college-aged, identical flowers of womanhood, but they were moist, glistening with sweat and panting gently. As if they had just finished some intense physical exertion. These new girls were smaller than the others, seemingly younger - and probably not Italian. Their dark eyes and midnight hair seemed to betray an Arabic/Middle-Eastern heritage. They had the same sort of uncommon beauty that was becoming paradoxically common in this house/mansion for some unfathomable reason. No, not Italian - they looked like nineteen year-olds who had escaped from the head-scarf culture of Saudi Arabia to become porn goddesses in the beauty-friendly West.

"Wh-where's Apollonia?" The gorgeous giantess that had rutted so vigorously upon his raging cock was not here, but hadn't left. The pillows most certainly had not been disturbed. The strangely new girls glared hungrily at Metzger.

"You ask too many questions." Arabic beauty #1 growled in perfect English as she lip-locked with him. There was that scent again; that electrifying cocoa-butter with a hidden fire undercurrent. Just that smell, emanating from her hair - her skin twisted his stomach with a paroxysm of lust.

"Feel my body, my flesh... feel my heat... for you..." The impossible harlot purred, his head between her hands. But her sister took a more direct tack, simply pouncing on Metzger's aching cock, deep-throating him with a moist vortex of cunnilingual skill to shame the most jaded whore. Her curtain of ink-black hair wavered like a sea of ebony as she bobbed her head in Metzger's lap. She took his entire length, not a gag or complaint. He hadn't even asked her.

But still, Metzger wasn't a total fool. As the delight washed over him, he tried to hash out how someone he knew could have hired over sixty prostitutes for him alone... but drew a blank. The best he could come up with was that he had somehow become enmeshed in some sort of sorority hazing-initiation prank. It seemed a real longshot, but that might explain...almost everything that had happened... if drugs had been involved.

If so, the joke or hazing ritual would soon wear thin - as would his welcome in this incredible mansion. He pulled his lips away from his latest unlikely lover, as the rest of the harem murmured in sexy slumber.

"Guess I should...ohhh.... g-get ready t-to go?" He tested.

"Why?" demanded the first Arabic girl as her sister laved his dick with demonic enthusiasm. Her shadowy eyes riveted Metzger's own. "You are the Master now. All of this..." her hand swept the bedroom. "All of us... belong to you. You are the lion of our pride. If you want something - demand it." She was panting with unwholesome urges.

"Why would the King leave his Kingdom?" With that, the first girl rose, and grabbed his hand in her own. "If you left..." Bending over, she pressed his hand against the cheeks of her own ripe ass. It was an absurd, impossible gesture of submission and possession. No... this was as impossible as the shape-shifting... no woman could behave like this! Never! The new girl continued:

" - Who would take charge... of your property!" She hissed, encouraging his hand to squeeze her impressive buttocks. With a feral grunt, Metzger ejaculated explosively. Down the throat of her sister. Though his mind was stunned by a freight-train of pulsing ecstasy, he understood. Outrageous words to push him over the edge. The male power-fantasy implied had put his sex-drive on high-heat.

The orgasms were getting better, or worse. Again, the eruption was so intense that his vision seemed to swim, blur. He must be dreaming; because he was still hard....so very hard. The second of the new Arab girls rolled over, thrashing and caressing herself as an indecent firestorm ravaged her pleasure-centers before she succumbed to fitful, contented slumber like her sisters below.

His dick. It was like cocaine to them.

The first girl, she knew that his manhood would still remain impossibly potent even after so virile an eruption. She was on all fours, ass in the air. And the scent - it was stronger this time. In a flash, Metzger knew that the lust-odor, that potent rutting musk was coming from her sex. That prurient knowledge tingled down his spine, just the thought of it intensifying the pleasure. All thoughts of freedom, suspicion ceased to matter - there was only her ass, and the warm treasures within her sumptuous body.

In a sex-rage, Metzger rose on his knees, to seize those glistening globes and ravish this tantalizing harlot from behind - in the behind. Her incredible, sexist proclamation could not be true, but he was seized with a need to make it true; to act as the lion seeding his pride with a roar of as much triumph as lust. From behind him, one of the Italian supermodels had awakened, and began to coo - stroking his straining back muscles tenderly, craving his attentions again.

He would get back to her. All of them!

That was when the door exploded inwards. Soldiers. Armed troopers in gas masks stormed into the bedroom - weapons at the ready...

**********

The soldiers confronting Nora in her tiny, rented room where geared up as though suspecting a bioweapons attack. No exposed skin that she could see, and gasmasks covering their faces. Overkill perhaps?

But Nora understood why.

"Hey, get that machine over here, and test her for - "

"Belay that." barked a trooper with Sergeant bars on his shoulder.

"But she could be - "

"Idiot! She's gotta be over fifty! Polymimeticus gynotrophia can't do that! Their body chemistry requires fresh, live DNA to remain viable; that's why they need to whore around looking like strippers." Sergeant explained rudely. "No way an alien that feeds on sex would look that old!"

"H-hey! I was at the briefing too! uh... Sir." The chastised soldier complained.

"Then use your head! We're looking for girls hot enough to be supermodels, but acting like hookers!" Just then, a naked redhead with a curvaceously plump ass ran panicked down the hallway beyond the soldiers.

"On your Six! MOVE! MOVE!!" the shifter-hunters were not caught napping; bringing their rifles to bear as Nora sat paralyzed in terror. They turned away; ignored her. Their guns were modified; they were firing some kind of tiny darts at relatively low velocity. Nora could only assume it was some sort of shifter-specific countermeasure intended to royally fuck up her biology. She wasn't sure what that might involve; except that she didn't want it to involve her.

Was she safe? Safe through a random quirk of luck? Just because she'd been experimenting with an older form at that exact moment? Well, luckily the soldiers didn't recognize the actress she was pretending to be; or the 'jig' would be tits-up.

No. She got the feeling that no Shifter would ever be truly safe again. Men where her enemy; and her salvation. They knew that she needed a man's seed to live; but they weren't as smart as they thought they were.

More screams and shouts as the onslaught continued. The Reilly harem, and those boarding with them all tried to escape. And it was not impossible, not for a cunning shapeshifter; but the odds weren't in their favor. The soldiers thought they could detect one of her kind - if they bothered. Nora knew that her hope - for now... lay in staying put. A soldier ran past her door with a coffee-tanned Hispanic girl slung over his shoulder as the mayhem continued.

No... should couldn't start running now - because the soldiers would be expecting it; they'd attack her like all the others. But staying in this town was clearly impossible. But when to leave? When and how?

One of her fellow Shifters, a member of the Reilly harem decided just them to play to her strengths. Instead of running, a lusciously busty brunette strode boldly towards the soldiers wearing green high heels, silver eyeshadow, and a green beret - with nothing else. An outsider could be forgiven for believing they were shooting an army-parody porno flick in the building.

"Hey Boys! We're all on the same team here!" She saluted with a dazzling smile, overhead lights playing luridly across the sumptuous acreage of her ripe hips. It was a credit to her seductive charms that the squad paused momentarily, no doubt to plunder her with their eyes before opening fire. The beret brunette squealed before their anti-shifter darts, expecting a very different kind of prick - and she ran for cover, troopers in hot pursuit.

How long until they decided to pursue Nora? She had to wait until the attack ended, and leave with stealth, not speed. And it was clear that these men were not to be fucked with; in any sense of the word. But within minutes, the tumult began to die down. Two soldiers started talking near her, they seemed to be under orders to hold position. Yes... it seemed like everyone else had been called away, probably to carry off their captives. Except for these two. Nora adjusted the bones of her inner ear to more easily hear their conversation at a distance.