Rachel and the Senate Subcommittee on EVIL pt1

Rachel and the Senate Subcommittee on EVIL pt1

by Young Pretender

 

I was on the verge of coming, but I urgently thought about baseball, trying to delay as long as possible for her pleasure.  I pulled out and started to work her clit with my finger, giving myself a breather.  I considered the lady's

satisfaction paramount.  I got off on people getting off.  Suitably recharged, I penetrated her again, harder and faster.  I felt her rhythm change, and knew I had succeeded.  Her back arched, and a low moan escaped her.  This was all

according to plan.  Then she burst.  She splattered all over the bedroom.  I was closest, so I was liberally covered in Rachel goo.  That had never happened before.

        To shocked to feel anything, I towelled myself clean of my lover with her comforter, thrown aside earlier and therefore relatively free of... splashes.  I was searching for my clothes when I got the second shock of the night.

        "Zach? please don't leave me like this!"  A small, plaintive voice stopped me at the threshold.

        I looked back towards the bed, afraid of what I might see.  The biggest puddle still on the bed was getting bigger, assimilating smaller puddles.  The glop seemed to be moving against gravity, sliding up the sides of the bed to

rejoin the growing mass.

        "What's going on, Zach?"

        Rachel's voice emanated from the puddle, and I saw the surface vibrate in time with her words. Her voice was getting louder as the puddle got bigger.  She was still alive.  I hesitantly moved away from the door and back towards the bed.

        "I don't know, Rachel.  This has never happened before, I swear! I'm clean! I always use a condom!"

        "I feel wobbly, Zach.  I don't feel right."

        "You don't look right, no offense.  How are you... What are you... What?"

        Rachel had collected all of her errant substance, and she was obviously struggling to understand what was happening just as much as I was.  She heightened herself, and a rudimentary face formed on the side facing me.

        "I'm scared, Zach!  What am I supposed to do now?"

        "It's ok, Rache. You're alive. Everything else is secondary."

        "Secondary?!  I'm pudding, Zach!  I can't work like this!  I can't live like this!"  as her tone grew more urgent, her body became more animated, forming hundreds of tendrils that wobbled in time to her exclamations.  I thought

about that for a moment.  She was using her new body adroitly already.  She was causing it to emulate human speech, probably without any conscious effort. Why not go further?

        "Rachel, have you noticed that you have no mouth, but you are talking?  I think you're vibrating yourself like a speaker.  I think you have more options than you realize.  Can you see?"

        "Of course I can- wait.  How can I see?  How can I hear?"

        "I don't know the how, but judging by everything else that has happened, I bet you are in control of that, too."

        "In control?"

        "I think you just became some kind of shapeshifter, Rache.  I think you are the luckiest person I know.  I would give anything to swap places with you."

        "You bastard! This is my life!  I might never be able to change back!  How dare you!"

        "You haven't thought it through, babe. I bet you can change back.  I bet you can change into anything you want, if you just practice.  You just got superpowers!  Of course I'm jealous!"

        "Superpowers? are you nuts?  I'm a blob!  What can a blob do?"

        "Well, if you don't like being a blob, why not try changing that?  Why not try and create a human shape?"

        "And just how do you suggest I do that?"

        "I couldn't say, Rache.  I'm not the superhuman here.  I would suggest trial and error."

        "I... You have a point.  OK.  Human shape.  Lets see..."  Rachel wriggled, and jiggled, and started to elongate.  She stretched out to about half her former height, but then she seemed to get frustrated.  The tendrils made

another appearance.

        "I can't get myself to split!  How can I manipulate my senses but not make legs? I can't take this!"  The tendrils started to thrash.

        "You need to calm down, Rachel.  Panicking will only make things worse.  Take it slow.  Do you want me to try and help?"

        "Help?  How could you help?"  The tendrils receded.

        "Well... You seem to have taken on the consistency of silly putty.  I could try and... shape you."

        "How do you propose to do that?"  I found her pants from the pile in the hall, and brought them to the bed.

        "If you push your substance into your pants, you'll have a form to fill.  Instead of doing it yourself, all you have to do is push, and you will have legs."

        "That seems reasonable.  OK.  Let's try it your way."  I brought the pants over, zipping them up and snapping the button, then sliding them over the bottom end of her.

        "Can you feel that?"

        "Yeah, I'm gonna try it now, so hold them there, OK?"  I duly held the pants, and she flowed into them.  They were tailored skinny jeans, and I watched them fill like a firehose connected to a hydrant.  She overflowed out the leg

holes a bit, then consciously cut off the motion.  Her substance had the texture of skin, but it moved like warm jello against my hands.

        "How does it look?"

        "Very strange, Rache.  Like a sausage with a great ass.  It worked perfectly. I don't think a tank top will work for your top half, though."

        "Hmm...  I don't have any non-stretchy tops.  I don't think I will be able to cheat for this part.  But the shape of the pants helped me understand what I need to do."  Her top half sprouted two smaller blobs, which lengthened

until they were about arm length.  Another blob sprouted between them, forming a rudimentary head.

        "You're doing it, Rache!  You're almost there!  I knew you could do it!"  I went into her bathroom and got a hand mirror.  "Here-  I'll hold the mirror, you see what you can do about your face."  I held the mirror over the middle

blob, and Rachel's familiar features surfaced on it, one at a time.

        "I need help, Zach.  I'm almost there, but I need help with the detail work.  Can you try and squish my head into shape?  I'll help as much as I can."  Her mouth didn't move.  The sound came from her chest area.  I gently touched

the side of her nascent head, and her substance gave easily, holding its new shape when I withdrew.  emboldened, I tried to smoosh the blob into a more head-like shape, but I ended up making it worse.  I rearranged her features,

destroying the small bit of symmetry she had managed.

        "I don't think I can do it for you, Rachel.  What if you felt my head, and emulated it?  It worked for splitting, maybe you can mimic better than you can freestyle."

        "Worth a shot.  Are you sure you want me touching you?"

        "What kind of question is that?  Think of the sex, Rachel.  Shapeshifter sex. Of course I want you touching me."

        "You have a one track mind, Zachary.  OK.  Hold still."  Her almost-arms reached up bonelessly, and flowed over my face.  They moved under their own power, but Rachel was still mostly liquid.  I had just enough time to scare

myself by thinking about suffocation before she withdrew.  "I see.  OK.  I think you were right about mimicry."  Her head coalesced, and I found myself looking at an eery mirror image of myself, down to my tousled hair.  The features

blurred and reformed, my craggy but unremarkable face turning into Rachel's delicate visage.

        "My goodness, Zachary.  I would have been lost without you.  Give me your hand.  If I can make myself some hands, I think I'll be able to sort out the rest."  I obliged, putting my hand on her unformed chest.  it sunk in without

resistance, and the feeling of her body was like nothing I had experienced before. I felt her grip my hand with her protoplasm, probing its structure thoroughly.  Hands formed on the end of her pseudopods, and I sat back.  Her torso

curved upwards until her head was vertical, and she wrapped her arms around me.  I felt her hands running over my back, tracing the bumps of my spine.  "I'm going to need a spine if I am going to pass for human.  I'm on a roll, now.  

Hmm..."

        She developed posture.  Her limp lower back straightened, forming a decent approximation of the S-curve of a natural human spine.  A line of bumps traced itself up her back.  She ran her hands down one of my arms, palpitating

gently, tracing the shape of my bones.  Her noodly appendages straightened, forming recognizeable arms.  She ran her hands over her chest, pushing in and squeezing, sculpting her pert breasts out of her base matter.  "All that is left is

legs.  Give me a leg, Zach!"  I obliged, laying a leg across her thighs.  They squished almost flat under me.  She repeated her examination, squeezing my joints and kneading my foot, feeling how the bones fit together.  Her legs gained

definition, lifting mine in the process.  I felt her femur form.

        "You look almost human!  Think of the possibilities, Rachel!  You can look like anyone or anything you want now!  The world is your oyster!"

        "Speaking of oysters..."  She pulled her pants down, and pushed her hands into her flesh where her cleft had been.  She worked quickly, pinching and shaping herself like potter's clay, and a remarkable facsimile of female

genitalia quickly took shape.

        "How did you do that with no example?"

        "I am intimately familiar with how things are supposed to feel down there.  I do have some hands on experience..."  She gave me an utterly innocent look.  "There is only one thing left now, Zach.  The pelvis.  Do you think you

could help me understand how everything fits together?"

        I waggled my eyebrows suggestively.  "You can use my pelvis any day, Rachel."  She rolled her eyes and threw my leg off, then gently pushed against my chest, suggesting that I lay down and give her room.  I obliged.  She leaned

in with her hands, pushing hard to get an idea of the shape of the bone.  Despite our state of undress, her interest was clinical, and she finished quickly.

        "Done!"  She rolled off the bed and onto her feet, probably intending to strike a pose, but she still hadn't worked out balance.  She was briefly upright, but she didn't stop there, crashing into her dresser at speed.  I rushed

to her side, worried she would lose her hard won shape, but she was fine.  The side that had hit the dresser had a row of indentations the exact size and shape of the handles, though, including one disconcerting divot in her cheekbone.  

The holes popped shut one by one, and she looked up at me from the floor.  I reached out, and she took my hand.  I hauled her upright, holding onto her hand to steady her.  She was still half in her pants, but with a careful shimmy and

slurp she caused them to fall to the floor.  She stood before me, and I looked her over carefully.

        "I think you are at about 90%, Rachel.  You still need ribs. A belly button.  Body hair.  You should probably also change your hairstyle, unless you are going for the twin look."

        "Well spotted.  Thank you."  She ran a hand over my ribs and belly, and deftly emulated them.  Her hair grew out rapidly until it reached her shoulders, changing from my black to her orange. "I don't think that I want body hair

for the time being.  Imagine, never having to shave again."

        "You also need to move your mouth when you speak.  You are going to have to lip sync yourself, and never forget, or you will get rumbled immediately.  You are going to have to make a fake heart and lungs as well, or at least

simulate normal breathing.  Better start now, get in the habit."  She put her hand on my chest, and I breathed deep.

        "Here, feel this:" she said after a moment, and placed my hand on her solar plexus.  I felt the lubdub of a regular human heart, indistinguishable from my own.  I felt her chest rise and fall at appropriate intervals as well.

        "Well done.  Now your mouth.  I assume you know there isn't actually an opening there yet, right?"

        "Do you know what?  I think that you should give me a kiss.  I think that is probably the easiest way to handle that."  Needing no further prompting, I leaned in and kissed her on the mouth.  I felt her lips part, but there was

no structure behind them.  She needed mouth experience.  I gave her a hint, and stuck my tongue into her unformed mouth.  She caught on, and I felt her reciprocate, pushing herself into my mouth.  It felt like drinking an unusually

mobile,  milkshake.  Her probe gained definition as she rummaged around, and I felt the terrain on her end shift.  I felt teeth and jawbones form.  I felt the tongue root to the floor of her mouth.  She moved her lips experimentally

against mine, then I felt her smile.  I decoupled, taking in a deep breath.

        "I can personally attest that that is an excellent mouth.  Try speaking through it."

        "I've been watching your lips move while you talk, and I think I have it down.  All I have to do is make the sounds inside my chest, and conduct them out my- wait.  OK. conduct them out my throat, and voila!"  Her lips moved

normally during these statements, and "voila" came out of her mouth, exactly as if she had said it normally.

        "Wow, babe.  You are quick.  How long has it been since this happened? an hour?  You went from blob to homunculus in under an hour.  Just think what you will be able to do with practice!"

        "I couldn't have done it without you, Zach.  I believe we have some unfinished business?  I had a laugh and a half, but I distinctly remember you waiting and helping me along.  This is a democracy, Zach.  Everyone comes."  She

led me back to the bed and sat back, pulling me down on top of her.  She was more squishy than she had been, but not implausibly so.  I looked into her eyes at close range, and they crinkled at the corners, uncomplicated happiness

filling her features.  "What are you waiting for?  A signed invitation?"

        I entered her gently, then rapidly picked up the pace as I realized this pussy was unusually responsive.  Downright prehensile, in fact.  The lips guided my shaft upwards, allowing me to stimulate areas that missionary didn't

usually allow, and the walls tickled my head playfully, causing me to come almost immediately.  She released me from her grip, and I flopped down next to her in post coital bliss.  "No fair! you cheated!"

        "Do you think I didn't notice you cheating earlier?  Fair is fair, darlin.  Did you think you were the only one who enjoyed the pleasure of others?"

        I was already starting to stiffen again, and her words reignited my passion.  She knew my refractory period was short from our previous encounters, and her mouth was around my cock before I realized what was happening.  Her pussy

hung invitingly before my face.  I normally don't do cunnilingus unless I know the lady has cleaned herself recently, but Rachel had no anus.  She had crafted this organ solely for pleasure.  As if she had read my thoughts, her slit made

a kissing noise.  I obliged, licking her clit and the surrounding area thoroughly.  She stiffened all over, and her gear got very wet.  I was pleasantly surprised by the smell and taste of raspberries. Apparently she had already figured

out how to control her excretions.  Raspberries were my favorite fruit.

        She was really working me over, I could feel her lips around the base of my shaft.  She had never taken me so deep before.  Unlike a regular blowjob, she was keeping her head still and doing all the stimulation with her tongue.  

Her inhumanly long and dextrous tongue was coiled around the entire length of the shaft, squeezing and sliding up and down while using the tip to caress the head.  My second orgasm would take much longer, even with her absurd mouth-

tentacle in play.  I was determined to make good use of the time.  I was only human, but I was a skilled linguist.  I used my nose to keep her clitoris excited while I delved deeper with my tongue.  She stiffened again, then started to

shake rhythmically.  I smiled, and used my tongue to slowly scrape the roof of her vagina.

        She came.  Her new body wasn't up to the torrent of confusing requests she must have made of it, and she lost cohesion.  Her whole lower body erupted into the air like a slow motion explosion, then settled down into an indistinct

puddle covering my midsection.  The smell of raspberries was thick in the air.  The one part she had managed to hang onto was her mouth.  Her head was gone, but she was still latched onto my equipment, still squeezing and sliding for all

her worth.  If anything, her intensity increased.  The rest of her started to move, grinding against me in time to her tongue's motion.  I only held out for another thirty seconds of that before I came as well, bucking and groaning.

        She martialled herself, rolling herself into a tube then quickly hashing out her limbs and figure.  She was sweaty and flushed, and her hair was disheveled.

        "How do you feel, Rache?  Tired from all that work?"

        "Hmm... Not really.  Hungry, if anything."

        "You look more human than you have all night.  You even smell human!  How did you do that?"

        "I didn't do it on purpose.  I guess this is how I expect to feel after heroic sex, so I must have subconsciously made myself this way."  She climbed off the bed and went into the bathroom.  I heard the shower start.  I wanted to

sleep, but I knew I should clean myself off first, so I followed.  We made a production of it, lathering each other up and indulging in a long kiss before shutting the water off.  We towelled off, then I headed to bed as she belted on a

robe and went to get something to eat.  The last thing I saw before I fell asleep was her pert derriere swaggering through the bedroom door.