Chapter Fifteen: The Inevitable Beach Episode - Finale

High Phsycophant Qwaizoo rolled his eye-stalks and fanned his lapis impatiently as the crowd of hideous Hootnams finally ceased their endless procreation and collapsed into a sleepy pile of disgustingly boney limbs.

It had been hours of foul animal rutting while he hovered unseen in a corner, **** to bear witness as the male test subject recklessly injected more and more of the transmutative side-effect of compound X244-1d into its female breeding partners. One after another after another…

Such a vile, revolting act. Qwaizoo had never been more thankful that his clearly superior species reproduced asexually.

To be honest, the Craterisal officer had only taken this away-mission upon himself to escape the increasingly awkward, unprofessional situation playing out between the two shtaaark-hole delving deviants on the command deck of his starship in orbit above this abhorrent planetoid.

It was telling that even this appalling assignment was the lesser of two evils. The only thing worse than discovering the scandalous whisperings about Grand Scrutineer Dhuussod’s distasteful predilections were true, was watching him find a perverted new protege in that incompetent flunky Third Class; Bhamme.

He had been present for some time–nearly a half planetary rotation–hidden behind his psionic chameleon field and waiting in the wings for the chance to bring this misbegotten expedition to an end with his own pseudopods.

The landbound Hootnams had repulsed the High Phsycophant with their fleshy slapping noises and gross angular forms thrusting together until Qwaizoo thought he couldn’t endure it any longer. Thank the Prime Smack–may they remain ever gelatinous–that they were finally exhausted and he could bring this forsaken mission to a close then catch the nearest wormhole back to the roiling gaseous depths of Beta Crateris III as soon as possible.

Floating silently forward with the loaded hypospray held fast in his curling pseudopod, it wasn’t difficult to locate the Hootnam male’s reproductive appendage. It was loosely wrapped like a thick power conduit around the lower limb of one of the overgrown females sleeping practically atop the test subject.

The organ was obnoxiously long, pink and squishy. Qwaizoo repressed the sickening shudder that rippled through his cerebral bell as he gently applied the surgical instrument to wrinkly flesh and painlessly injected the contents into the spongy tissue.

Compound X245-1e–he had checked to ensure it was the correct compound no less than three times while cursing the Grand Scrutineer’s needlessly complex cataloging system–wasn’t a complete counteragent for the psychotomimetic Decalopoid extract infecting the repugnant Hootnam’s reproductive system, not entirely. But the lymphatic fluids of the notoriously hardy Struthionidae from the Lyncis Constellation would limit the aggressive growth of the invasive alien biomass and neutralize the worst of the psychic outbursts.

Hopefully.

Allowing a cadmium-colored flash of relief to wash across his mucus membrane, High Phsycophant Qwaizoo wafted out of the boxy confines of the Hootnam habitation unit and prepared to signal his ship for retrieval.

...he badly needed a soothing methane shower and some quality time with his pet diamond collection to put this whole mission behind him.

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Epilogue

Mariana passed the binoculars to her close friend and business partner Ana as their chartered yacht approached the small, almost hidden cove of Bahia San Agustin.

“Here, tell me what you see.”

The two successful young health and beauty entrepreneurs had sacrificed much time, effort and millions of pesos to follow a trail of online breadcrumbs to the sandy white beaches of this remote seaside community in search of the latest holy grail of cosmetic products.

WondercreamTM.

The before and after pictures on Pinterest had been instantly dismissed as deep fakes, which was ironic because the very same posts on Instagram had been pinned by thousands of viewers as an immediate favorite.

Photoshop experts and message board nay-sayers had scoured the pixels, sifting the high resolution and clear color palette through the finest digital sieve imaginable, and been unable to form a conclusive argument against the veracity of the unbelievable images.

But an actual sample of the elusive beauty lotion was harder to find than a carrot in a convent.

Everyone had heard the scuttlebutt surrounding it but no one knew where to order the miracle lotion. Even those who claimed to have benefited from the certified organic product were understandably tight-lipped about their secretive sources.

“What am I looking for?” Ana asked, raising the lenses to her clear hazel eyes. “Anyone in particular?”

“No, just focus on the people on the beach.” Mariana replied, feeling the bud of excitement bloom in her pattering heart. “What do you notice about them?”

She watched as the gorgeous Puerto Rican influencer frowned in concentration and leaned over the railing to better scan the approaching beach.

They had both dressed appropriately for the ocean ride, not missing the opportunity to snap some sexy deck-side selfies of their sumptuous sun-kissed bodies wrapped in stylish string bikinis with the whitecaps cresting in the background. Real money makers to be posted on their profiles later to recoup some of the outlay in case the search turned out to be a fool's errand after all.

Which Mariana was beginning to believe it wasn’t…

“There’s a lot of attractive women hanging out by the beach. Too many swimsuits and not enough boats, lines or nets out for even a small fishing village.“Ana commented, adjusting the focus on the spyglass. “It looks like a photoshoot for a men’s entertainment magazine.”

“But with no cameras or crew in sight.” Mariana nodded in excitement. “Now look at the volleyball game or the tiki bar by that grove of palm trees, and you’ll see...”

She waited for her business partner to pan the telescopic view and grinned at the startled gasp of realization.

“Dios mio, that’s impossible! It must be a trick of the distance. An optical illusion.”

Except it wasn’t. Mariana had watched three breathtakingly beautiful, stunningly tall, women dressed in floppy sun hats, strappy sandals, translucent waist wraps, and nothing else, bending low to reach under the bar’s palm frond awning and retrieve their coconut themed drinks. When they had straightened up again, not one of them was less than a head taller than the rusty iron roof of the chintzy watering hole.

The game of beach volleyball was a joke. Nothing but standing spikes over the high-strung net with feminine feet still firmly set in the glaring white sand.

“Ho, the ship!” A deep voice called from over the starboard side in American english. “Are you sailors lost? Hablas inglés?”

This time they both leaned out past the railing, full bronzed breasts dangling over the clear cerulean water in their tiny bikini tops, to spot a shaggy-haired young man piloting his twin engine ski boat up alongside their hired yacht.

He was heavily tanned for an Anglo, his open Hawaiian shirt fluttering behind him as he stood behind the raised helm. He smiled up at them from beneath a weather-beaten sports cap and a pair of mirror lens sunglasses as he brought the knife-shaped vessel to a bobbing halt a short distance away.

Far more interesting than the speed boat’s skipper were the two Amazonian bombshells seated on the padded rear bench. They were towering, modelesque beauties–one a sun-bleached blonde and the other a faded brunette–riding topless in skimpy swimsuit bottoms with welcoming smiles on their cherry lips and the busty ballast of their top-heavy, muscular physiques weighing the stern down to the waterline.

“We speak english!” Ana called out over the choppy waters of the picturesque cove. “Is this Bahia San Agustin?”

“It is!” The gigantic brunette shouted back, cupping her mouth in both hands. A diamond-studded wedding band glittered conspicuously on her ring finger. “Are you two Mariana and Ana? I thought I recognised you from your Twitch channel. Come aboard, we’ve been expecting you.”

They had? The two Latina fashionistas exchanged surprised glances before snatching up their beach bags and hurrying to the diving ladder that descended the yacht’s hull as the smaller boat edged up alongside.

The massive, athletically built blonde helped them down. More-or-less plucking them off the side of the deck to gently place them on the fiberglass side seats and pat them fondly on their inky-haired heads once they had settled.

“There you go, my pretties.” She cackled with a grin so wicked that she only lacked a pointed witches hat to complete the impression. “We’ve got you now and your little dog too.”

A lance of anxiety skewered Mariana as she finally took in the unbelievable size differential between herself and the other two monumentally proportioned strangers. They were ten feet tall if they were an inch.

“Bernie, stop scaring the guests.” The imposing brunette scolded, “It wasn’t funny the first time you said it and it’s not funny now.”

“Aw, c’mon Amy. I was just having some harmless fun.” Bernie protested petulantly, crossing her arms over her enormous bare breasts. “We talked about adding a little theater to the introduction, didn’t we?”

“That isn’t the welcoming tone we are aiming for!”

“Um, excuse me,” Ana said timidly, raising her hand to interrupt the two squabbling giantesses. “We didn’t bring any dogs and are only here to meet the people behind the WondercreamTM cosmetic line. I suspect that would be the two of you?”

Both titanic women looked down at her and Mariana with wide toothy grins as the outboard motors revved up to turn towards the sun soaked shoreline.

“Close, while we’re certainly some of the key people driving our fast growing business, you’ll meet the actual man behind the curtain very soon.” Amy replied, resuming her seat with Bernie on the rear bench as the boat picked up speed. “Sorry if that sounds vague but we are keeping things very hush-hush and need-to-know while the production and operations are getting better established.”

“You did a great job finding us here.” Bernie gushed, slipping a massive arm through the brunette’s own and hugging close into her side. “Fiona–that’s our head of social media and promotions–is really good at picking out the right kind of people to help us and dropping little clues for them to follow if they are motivated enough. That’s, like, your whole job interview and you both passed. Yay for you!”

“Job interview?” Mariana asked wearily. “We’re only here to discover the truth behind Wondercream and find out for ourselves if all the fuss is real.”

It felt silly to say with two prime examples of the mysterious products purported benefits sitting almost knee to knee with her as they bounced breastily over the crashing surf. They seemed to sense it too, by the knowing smiles on their resplendent faces.

“Don’t look so worried!” Bernie giggled, patting the air in a calming gesture. “You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to, and nobody is being **** to do anything. Everyone is free to leave whenever they like, except no one has yet. Not once they got a taste of our–”

“Company lifestyle and values.” Amy finished for the looming blonde, speaking loudly over whatever she was about to say next. “But Bernie is right when she says this is an open invitation with no expectations or pressure for you to accept. Bahia San Agustin is a beautiful place. Please feel welcome to explore it, speak with the locals, sample all it has to offer, and come to your own conclusions. Personally, I think you will both be a good fit for our line of work.”

“More like a snug fit. Rising and grinding one out. Getting in, then getting off, on the ground floor if you get my meaning.”

“Dammit, Bernie and you were doing so well for once.” Amy sighed as the party-sized blonde made lurid hip motions on the seat beside her. “Get out and help pull the boat up onto the beach, please.”

The two Latina influencers blinked as they realized the engines had died and the boat was coasting up to the sandy shore. Bernie let out a good-natured harrumph as she splashed into the clear blue waters that would have submerged them to their hairless armpits but only came up to the mountainous stunner’s waist and began to push the twelve foot pleasure craft out of the foamy breakers.

She made it look easy, even shooting a playful wink at the two gawking women.

Spread out on the beach before them, nearly two dozen inhumanly tall and impossibly superb specimens of feminine perfection paused in what they were doing to eye the landed boat with eager, hungry expressions. A few of the volleyball players jogged into the surf to help. They were all long flashing limbs and generous curves–broadcasting supreme health and a nearly supernatural level of strength as they dragged the burdensome boat up onto dry land.

“Take your time and come find me if you have any questions. Any at all.” Amy said, turning back to Ana and Mariana after levering the twin motors out of the water and locking them in the upright position. “We believe in one hundred percent transparency once potential recruits reach us here in our new home. My door is always open for you, I mean that sincerely.”

Neither Mariana or Ana missed the heated note in her final offer, nor the smoky look in her almond eyes before a male presence they had all but forgotten spoke up behind them.

“That’s enough, Baby. I think they get the point. It’s time for us to get back to work now.”

It was the shaggy-haired skipper in the unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt and–now they could see all of him from a closer inspection–a large beach towel tucked around his waist. Something thick and heavy stirred beneath the colorful wrapping as he smiled warmly back at them from his reflective aviator sunglasses.

The young man had an easy, confident air about him and a moderately handsome build that either Latina would have usually taken a short moment to admire before dismissing him out of hand. But for some incomprehensible reason, that shifting motion held Ana and Mariana’s attention like two birds of prey spotting a fat slithering serpent for their next meal.

“Of course, husband!” Amy enthused, bounding bustily forward to wrap an arm around his back and lifted the charming skipper into a princess carry to step ashore. “You know there is nothing I love more than spending time with you and all our wonderful new friends.”

“Whoa! You don’t have to lug me around everywhere, Love. I have two perfectly functional legs.” He protested, clutching at his towel to keep it closed.

There was definitely an eye-catching amount of movement underneath.

“Maybe I like sweeping my hunky prince off his feet.” She giggled, booping him on the nose with her big forefinger. “Now shush, my Love, we must away before you are stolen again by all these wicked, thirsty women…”

“And she gives me shit about some of the stuff I say.” Bernie huffed, as the laughing couple disappeared into the milling crowd of oversized beach bunnies. “I better catch up with them, here, take these free samples to get you started. I’ve got the most important job of all and they’ll get started without me if I let them.”

She thrust two small lotion bottles into Mariana and Ana’s startled hands and they looked down at the pink labels with a thrill of excitement. The name “WondercreamTM” was printed there in a large stylized font.

“Gracias–I mean, thank you.” Ana responded, unsure what else to say. “Bernie, was it? What is your job, if you don’t mind saying.”

“Yep, I’m in charge of production, tasting and quality control.” The enormous blonde gave them a crocodile grin as she backpedaled up the beach. “It’s the best. Have fun and we’ll talk soon ‘kay?”

Then she was gone too, and the two mocha-skinned trendsetters were standing alone in the back of the landed boat examining their heavily sought-after prizes. The white plastic bottles were an odd, if distinctly recognizable, shape. Long, smooth cylinders with a rounded top end and a tiny rubber o-seal at the very tip from which the legendary beauty cream could, presumably, be squirted out.

Wait, did she just say… tasting?

“Mariana, this might sound odd…” Ana began in a cautious tone, gingerly rotating the suggestively shaped bottle in her grip. “But did anyone you spoke with mention how the cream was applied? There aren’t any instructions on the label.”

“Now that you mention it, Ana… no, and I didn’t think to ask. Because it’s a skin cream, right? It says it right there in the name.”

Mariana pressed a small dollop out onto her fingertip, rubbed it against the pad of her thumb and lifted it to her nose for a tentative sniff. It was powerfully fragrant. Salty with a slightly sour tang at the back end of the appetizing bouquet. Her mouth instantly began to water for some reason and her hand moved autonomically towards her perfect, parted lips.

“Hi, you two must be Ana and Mariana.” A friendly voice announced, snapping her out of her dreamlike haze. “My name is Miss Gwen and I’m here to help you both get situated.”

Blinking rapidly like sleepwalkers waking mid-step, they gave each other guilty glances. Ana snatching the phallic head of her lotion bottle away from her puckered mouth at the last second.

They turned as one to the speaker to discover an inevitably tall cinnamon-haired goddess wearing a tight gray pencil skirt, a black bandeau bra that acted like a hammock for her tremendous swaying breasts, and a wide-brimmed sun hat smiling happily down at them from a few feet away.

She was tapping a golden fountain pen on an official looking clipboard like a badge of authority.

“S-Sorry,” Mariana stammered, wiping her fingers clean on her hip and feeling an immediate tingle on the skin where she smeared it. “We only just arrived…”

“We understand completely.” The aforenamed Miss Gwen sympathized sweetly, bending low until she was within whispering range. “It’s a lot to take in at first. My advice as Chief Financial Officer is not to rush it. Mingle with the other girls, relax and take plenty of pictures–one glamor shot of you lovely ladies holding our special product will send your viewing numbers through the roof–you can find our wifi password posted at the bar. Otherwise, just enjoy yourselves and treat this like a free vacation.

“All we ask is that you have fun, trial the product, but don’t share any of our location details. I think you can understand that last stipulation after all the effort you spent finding us here. We provide an extremely exclusive service and don’t want our little slice of paradise to be overrun by common riff raff.”

Ana and Mariana found themselves nodding in agreement as they stepped out onto the sun-baked sands to follow Miss Gwen as she led them like baby ducklings through the throng of frolicking Amazons.

The towering business woman was speaking their language–if in English, rather than Spanish.

“Yes, of course.” Ana agreed, before peering down at the pink label again. “This is a topical ointment, for the skin, no? There is very little information on the packaging.”

Looking about, Mariana was growing less certain of that assumption by the second. Almost every woman in sight had one of the indecently designed bottles close at hand if not actually grasped in one.

There was even a vivacious young redhead with the long lean body of an Amsterdam contortionist and the face of a California covergirl handing out more of them, and taking silly photos of the gorgeous giantesses holding them in provocative poses on her smartphone.

There was a lot of naughty giggling and hand to mouth action happening on that particular stretch of sand.

“Use it however you like, in whatever way feels right for you.” Miss Gwen said in a warm, maternal tone. “Experimenting is half the fun and the health benefits are immediate no matter how you use it. Our Wondercream is unlike anything else on the market in that regard. Though I know my favorite method…”

Reaching down into her cavernous cleavage, the colossal business woman produced a penis-shaped bottle of her own and raised it to her plump ruby lips with a saucy wink.

“How do you say it here in ol’ Mexico? Ah, I remember now… salud!”

THE END

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