Pass It On

She raised her hand to knock…and then hesitated.

When Sam and Roger had gotten married five years earlier, he had been a caring and romantic person, always bringing her flowers, calling on the phone, taking her away for weekends in the country where they would rarely leave the bed.

The last few years, though…they had seen a deterioration in their relationship. As the economy had tightened and money had gotten scarce, Roger had changed. No more flowers. No more weekend trips. Fewer and fewer phone calls. Their sex life had dwindled to once a week, if he was in the mood.

Through it all, Samantha had held on to her belief that things would get better. Even as he ignored her, she kept trying to show him how much she loved him. Keeping house. Cooking. Kissing him, touching him.

And then he had hit her.

She had only wanted to remind him that his mother was coming by for dinner; she had walked into the den and walked in front of the television, saying his name….

She explained the bruise on her face to his mother as a misadventure in the shower.

It had happened a few times since, and each time he had gotten down on his knees and begged her forgiveness, promising it would never happen again. And each time, she forgave. Wondering about when the next time would come.

So she hesitated, knowing that the next time could come any time.

But he had been gone so long….

She knocked.

Once.

Then again.

“Roger? Are you in there? Are you okay?”

*****

Unlike Denise Burcham, Roger Cord felt no pleasure after his body was invaded.

His body was on fire, each nerve flooded with severe pain.

If Cord were aware enough to reason, he might have understood that the creature had used his cock as a convenient gateway, but that its true target was his brain. And, with the shortest distance between two points being a straight line, his spinal cord provided the most perfect pathway from his nether regions to his spongy control center.

And so, Roger Cord was simply a mass of quivering flesh, writhing in pain on the floor of the toilet, when his wife knocked on the door.

“Roger? Are you in there? Are you okay?”

Roger Cord, the man, was in no position to answer that question.

The creature that was slowly squeezing itself up Roger’s spinal cord was in no position to answer it either.

Sidney Wickington just smiled…and began to move his lips.

*****

“Sam….”

She heard Roger call her name through the door.

“Roger? Honey? Is something wrong?” She pressed her head against the door, trying to hear him.

“I think I fell. I’m not sure. Hard to think….”

“Can you open the door, sweetheart? I’ll come in and help you.”

There was a long pause.

”Roger! Talk to me!”

“I think I can move enough to open the lock. Stand back.”

She stood back a step; a minute passed, then two. Until finally, she heard the lock click on the door, and the sign changed from “occupied” to “vacant.”

Samantha opened the door and stepped inside.

*****

When you are in a room the size of a closet, 3/4ths of which is taken up by a sink and toilet, there isn’t much room to sprawl.

Yet, Roger Cord was indeed sprawled in the toilet, his head lying against the base of the metal toilet bowl, his legs above his head, resting against the cabinet under the sink.

Had Samantha taken a moment to think, she might have wondered what Roger could have been doing that would have possibly gotten him jammed into this position.

Instead, she immediately knelt down beside his head. “Honey, are you all right? What happened? Can you move?”

“Ohhhh, my head. Keep it down a little bit, okay? I have a serious headache!”

She lowered her voice slightly. “Can you move?”

“I think I can, if you help me. You’ll have to help me turn a bit, so I can push myself up.”

She pulled his legs outward from where they rested against the sink, enabling him to push his body into a sitting position, with his legs blocking open the door.

At that point, she noticed his cock. Out of his pants. Pointing at her.

“You…you…you’ve got a hard-on!” she gaped.

“I’ve got a headache! Who cares about my cock?”

Under normal circumstances, Samantha would have been more concerned with whether her husband was seriously hurt. However, he had been holding her wrist ever since she had helped him turn over.

And his hand was covered in ‘soap.’

As was his cock.

In short order, three things happened:

Roger found himself on the toilet seat, to make himself more comfortable;

Samantha was on her knees, Roger’s cock buried up to its hilt in her throat;

And Roger found himself sporting a wolfish grin. Just like Sidney Wickington.

*****

The sign across the bridge said “WELCOME TO LOUISIANA.”

Mr. Greene never even noticed.

PART FIVE

Samantha Cord was quite content.

When her husband came like a geyser down her throat, she swallowed everything. Including the ‘soap’ that had covered it.

She panicked for a moment when she felt something moving in her throat, when she felt what she thought was cum reversing its course and starting to travel back up toward her mouth.

She tried to yell, to scream, but with her airway blocked could only make a slight squeaking noise. She tugged on her husband’s leg, but he lay with his head back and eyes closed, a feral grin on his face.

In a few moments, the mass that had invaded her throat had risen into her nasal passages, and she gasped desperately for air through her mouth. But by the time she had recovered enough to think about screaming, a thin tendril had extended itself into her cranium, right into the pleasure center of her brain.

And, soon after that, Samantha too sported a grin. Which was mirrored on the face of her husband.

Which started on the face of Sidney Wickington.

*****

When Samantha awoke again, she quickly stood up, kissing her husband on the lips.

For the first time in years, he grabbed her and kissed her in return.

The problems of the past were forgotten. All that mattered was here, and now.

She stripped for him, as he sat watching her, his cock again growing hard at the sight of his once timid wife doing a strip tease in front of the still open door of the bathroom.

When she was finished, she fingered her glistening pussy, then slowly brought her finger to her mouth, tasting the juice that had blossomed there.

He stood, stepping out of his pants, and then pulled her into the toilet. Bending her over the toilet bowl, he spread her legs, and without preamble began sliding his cock in and out of her pussy. It was not making love; it was a savage, animal coupling, pounding her from behind as she cried and screamed and begged for more.

She came once, then once again, and a third time as he loosed his own orgasm into her.

And, as he held her in the afterglow of their frenzied fucking, he heard a noise behind him.

The petite Hispanic woman stood at the doorway, her eyes and mouth reflecting the same ‘O’ of shock.

“¿Qué?” she managed to get out of her mouth…before Roger turned and threw a handful of ‘soap’ in her face.

*****

Rosa Hernandez had been sound asleep, when the noise from the open bathroom door had awakened her.

She had been dreaming of happier times, when her family had been together, instead of scattered to each side of the US, doing whatever it took to earn money. Migrant farming, domestic help, casual labor…more than once, she had regretted leaving to elope with Francisco, causing her family to tell her to stay away, as she was no longer considered a “good Catholic girl.” So she and Francisco had made their own way, she as a cook, he as a laborer…until the phone call from her mother had changed it all. “Your papa is dying, Rosa. Please come home and be with him before he dies. He needs to see you.”

So they boarded a bus in Florida, and another in Atlanta, and now where only a few hours from their goal. And when she got there, she had her own surprise for the family that had displaced her….

She rubbed her belly, thinking warm thoughts of the child still growing within, knowing that it would bring her closer to her mother and her older sisters, who already had at least one child each. Whether she could close the wound that existed between her and her father….

‘Why don’t those damn gringos stop making so much noise?’ Rosa thought to herself. Fed up, she finally decided to give them a piece of her mind, even if they likely wouldn’t understand it.

It was only a few steps from her seat to the open bathroom door, and she stood shocked and silent as the bare ass of the naked gringo man came toward her, then thrust forward again into his woman. She had never watched anyone else have sex, had never wanted to…but there was something stirring about it, something exciting.

Watching them, she never even noticed the smell permeating the air around the toilet, surrounding her, even as she breathed it deep into her lungs.

By the time the woman and the man finally came together and rested against each other in the bathroom, Rosa was sweating, her hand inside the waistband of her simple skirt, fingering her own pussy in reflected lust.

When the man turned to her, she meant to back away, to apologize for intruding on their lovemaking. But all that could come from her mouth was the word “What?”

Then, the white liquid the man threw at her blinded her. It landed everywhere…including her open mouth.

Soon after, she was on her knees, her fingers desperately trying to bring her to climax.

Samantha and Roger decided to help her. Samantha did her part by lying on her back, licking and sucking the girl’s pussy; Roger again let his cock be used like a pacifier, buried deep in the girl’s throat. Rosa let the passion carry her away, until she fell unconscious, covered in cum, after her third orgasm.

Eyes still closed, Sidney Wickington smiled a Texas-sized smile. It was echoed immediately by Denise, Roger, Samantha…and Rosa.

*****

This time, the sign said “WELCOME TO TEXAS.”

Mr. Greene’s could have cared less.

PART SIX

Francisco Hernandez had loved only one woman in his life. When he first met Rosa, he had kidded his friends that she would be the woman he married. Through what passed for school in their run-down neighborhoods, he had carried her books, studied with her, and even gotten beat up for her on occasion. That her father had thought him not good enough to marry his daughter didn’t matter. He knew he was going to marry her, and that’s what he did.

And, though life was never easy, they managed, and they still loved each other madly. He would come home at night, and she would have dinner prepared, and afterward they would make love until exhausted. More than that, he would soon be a father. To Francisco Hernandez, life was as near perfect as he had ever thought possible.

He felt Rosa shaking him, trying to get him awake, something that was never easy to do at any time. Once asleep, only a siren next to his ear was likely to pull Francisco from dreamland.

When he did open his eyes, he thought he must still be dreaming. Rosa was kneeling beside him in her seat…naked from the waist up! And while he loved seeing her breasts, if he wasn’t dreaming, then his wife must have gone completely insane.

“Wake up sleepy-boy! I have a surprise for you!”

“Rosa? What?”

“Look at my breasts, my love. Look at what has happened!”

As Francisco watched, Rosa squeezed her generous breasts. And, first from one nipple, and then the other, a small amount of milk dribbled from the tip.

Francisco shook his head sharply. ‘I have to be asleep!’ he thought, starting to sit up in his seat. Starting to, but not quite making it when Rosa jumped into his lap and pinned his shoulders with her hands.

“Silly boy! You’re not going anywhere! I need you to suck the milk in my breasts, and tell me how it tastes!”

Francisco knew he was still dreaming then, at that moment. His wife never was so bold, never so forward. So he was still in dreamland after all. And the beautiful woman that was his dream wife wanted him to suck her breasts, which he would be delighted to do in any case. So he let her pull his head to her left nipple.

He was enjoying the dream immensely…until the milk started to move in his mouth.

*****

As Sidney Wickington continued smiling his satisfied smile, the group of five people behind him took turns milking each other in fantastically exotic ways.

At one point, Roger was taking Denise Burcham from behind, as she gave Samantha’s pussy a tongue-lashing. Francisco was being ridden by his wife, who held his head to her breasts, letting him go only when he sucked all the milk from her newly lactating bosom.

When they all had cum at least once, Denise began sucking Francisco’s cock, as Denise rimmed her asshole with her tongue. Rosa spread her ass cheeks and begged Roger to ass-fuck her, which an extremely difficult but rewarding chore.

In the end, they would have continued making each other cum all the way into Dallas, had not Sidney Wickington opened his eyes and stood up in the aisle.

All activity ceased as he turned to face them, and they all quickly dropped to their knees before the one who now held them in thrall.

He smiled down at them, letting them bask in his approval of their newly found sexual liberation. Then, he concentrated for a moment, mentally giving them their final task for this particular trip.

At his command, the two men rose and moved past him, lifting his seatmate from her chair and standing her in the aisle. Sidney moved to her, and touched his finger to her temple again, unlocking the mental binders that had kept her asleep.

*****

When Tanya Kessen awoke, her head was filled with cotton wool. She looked around her, and her first thought was “Why am I standing up?”

Her second thought was “Who are these guys holding me?”

Her third was “Why are they taking off my clothes?”

Indeed, Roger and Francisco were stripping her very methodically, removing her sweatshirt, her pants, her socks, her bra and panties. And, instead of doing anything about it, Tanya let them do it, helping them from time to time by lifting a foot or raising an arm.

Something inside her head said she should be worried that she WASN’T worried about this.

Something else inside her head said ‘Shhhhhhhhhh.’

Directly in front of her was the man who had sat down beside her when the bus started in Atlanta. That was the last clear memory she had of the entire trip. Until now.

Now, that man was being circled by three women, who were, piece-by-piece, removing his clothing. Like some pagan ritual of old, they moved in precise rhythm, hampered only by the narrowness of the aisle. Until he too stood naked before her.

The other men and women sank to their knees, leaving only Tanya and the naked man standing. That’s when the man smiled, and began to speak.

“My dearest Tanya. The last piece of the puzzle, so to speak. You must have many questions.

“But I will not answer them now. Once we are done, you will have all the guidance you need. You will be the beneficiary of years of knowledge and experiences…and whether you enjoy it or not…it will be your burden for a long, long time to come.

“Let’s begin.”

With that, Roger stood and moved behind Tanya, and Francisco, still on his knees, moved in front of her.

Roger began kneading Tanya’s breasts, even as he kissed and licked his way across her neck and shoulders. Francisco licked and sucked his way up her pussy lips, pausing only briefly to suck hard on her clit before working his way back down again.

Meanwhile, the three women began to use their hands and mouths on Sidney’s cock, licking and sucking and fondling and squeezing. To Tanya’s amazement, what arose from their ministrations was the largest tool she’d ever seen – 18 inches long if not more, and seemingly as big around as a salami! It was to a normal cock the difference between a rifle and a bazooka. For a moment, Tanya felt terror rising like a wave in her mind.

But the wave never crested; Roger and Francisco increased their efforts at stimulating her, while the voice in her mind told her to relax, that it would all work out correctly.

When Sidney’s cock reached its full length, the ritual changed again. Now Roger lifted her from behind and placed her on the back of the kneeling Francisco. He slid her down until her ass was directly on top of Francisco’s. Then, Francisco adjusted his position until she was flat on her back…and her pussy was directly in line with Sidney’s cock.

The three women led Sidney forward, each with a hand on his fully extended member. As he approached, Rosa and Denise let go, each taking a position at Tanya’s side. They each took one of her legs, lifting them up into a “V,” putting her cunt on display.

Samantha lead Sidney’s cock right to the entrance of Tanya’s pussy, then, using her free hand, she spread the pussy lips and put the head of the cock inside them.

As Sidney looked down at her, Tanya thought she saw something change in his face. “For what I am about to take from you, I am sorry. Hopefully, what you get in return will be worth it.”

Sidney thrust…and Tanya’s world fragmented again in soul-splitting pain.

*****

In the dark, voices whispered to Tanya. Tales of a race of shapeless creatures known as the Nomads, who, not having a home of their own, chose to roam the universe inhabiting the homes of others. They were traders in experience, in memory; their ability to provide a glimpse inside the cultures and mores of other species by actually living through that species was reviled by some, celebrated by others.

That was how one of the Nomads’ ships had landed on the Earth years before, searching for new species with which to bond. But, in this case, most of the Nomads had died before a way was found for them to inhabit the bodies of the race known as humans. And few humans refused what they had to offer: increased mental ability, photographic memory, mental control through touch, and the ability to create small “slivers” of themselves, which could then root in the minds of others, providing mental control of those infected as well as a pipeline to all of their memories and experiences.

And, once in a great while, a Nomad would procreate; to pass on the genetic knowledge gained in the body of a human, the creature would split itself in two, depositing the newly created duplicate self into a different host. Thus, the Nomads would continue, not overwhelming the human race, but collecting experiences and fostering new ones that would one day be returned to the stars for the entertainment and education of other races, other species…other galaxies.

That she had been chosen to be such a host was partially luck of place, and partially luck of age. Being in college at a major university provided so many more opportunities for studying the youth of a burgeoning planet; as well, perhaps some hosts could be found from other countries, extending the reach of the Nomads study to other parts of the planet.

The whispers began to fade away again, except for one last voice. ‘For each gift we offer to your species, there is also something that is subtracted. We offer incredible power, but lack of freedom – you will be compelled to seek out and mine new experiences and memories, willingly or not. You can control others, but not to any appreciable personal benefit. You will observe and experience the sexual experiences and orgasms of many others, but you yourself will never again experience one in your own body. You will always be healthy, and always be youthful, until such a time after you have spawned into another host and may choose to end your own life; but you will never bring another human life into this world.

‘We are a blessing and we are a curse. But you have been chosen. And, for now, you have no other choice.’