Her Dream Becomes A Nightmare

Lois shuddered as the slithering white tadpole thing flopped on her belly, and instinctively swatted at it—and like that, she could move again, the languor in her movements gone, and the prodding white things with their flagellating tails that surrounded her suddenly took on terrible, portentous meaning. The naked floating woman tightened her cunt muscles—both of them—and began to flail in the salty ocean, hoping to drive them away.

The second black lance shot down and caught her left breast. Piercing pain struck through Lois, like a giant needle...and as the lance withdrew, she saw the flesh had reshaped itself again, a familiar pink slit, small and virginal, the hood of the clitoris merging bizarrely into the nipple.

In that moment of distraction, Lois stopped moving and felt herself begin to slowly sink, the squirming tadpole-things thick about her, and she batted them away from her now three holes...and above her, the cloud laughed, rich and melodious and cruel as a cat...and the lance prepared to strike again.

It was a slow, timeless torment. Only constant motion would keep the squirming white things off of her, out of her, and there were more and more all the time. The black lance from the cloud flashed like dark lightning, paralyzing her for a moment with pain, only to withdraw with a new place to defend...because Lois realized that's what she was doing now, fighting off the rapacious, mindless little beasts that wanted to crawl inside of her.

An irregular line of cunts ran down her arms and thighs, and one particular pulsing pussy on the palm of her right hand was being very troublesome, the clit stuck in between the knuckles of her second and third fingers, making her unable to close it fully into a fist, but if she used is to sweep away at the writhing white horde around her they would try to climb into it.

Senseless, tireless motion as Lois tried vainly to dodge, to swim, to keep afloat...and the worse part of it was, she could feel a pounding excitement growing in her entire body. Each clitoris was wired into her nervous system, and as much as she feared and hated what was happening to her, she could feel the sensual urge as each slit in turn wanted to be stroked, sucked, penetrated, violated...

The cloud stabbed down one final time, right in the middle of Lois' forehead...a momentary migraine so intense and shocking that her whole body went limp, all thrashing stopped. Yet it was only a surface pain, like a scratch, not the needle-through-the-body pain like all the other times.

You can't feel pain in the brain. Lois thought, though she didn't know how. There are no pain receptors there.

The white squiggling mass fell on the prostrate floating reporter. Unable to even turn her head from the cloud and look, she could still feel the wrigglers as they finally pushed past her entrances...all of them. Something the size of a slug slithered inside her left breast. A solid softness squeeze into the pussy in her right palm. At least three of them, the size of golfballs, charged up her main vaginal canal, one after another.

And as the spike withdrew from Lois' skull, and the pain receded, she looked up at the strange dark face. With her left hand, she reached up and explored her forehead...and found the soft, sensitive outer lips, strangely familiar except for the location.

Pressure caught the reporter's attention then, sudden and unpleasant. She looked down to see her left breast was swollen, the skin taut...nor was it alone. Her right hand was bloated, little white things falling off it as she raised it up to look, a distinctive bulge evident beneath the skin...and as she watched, she swore it grew, spreading her fingers apart painfully.

Shaking and flailing about her, Lois saw the same thing happening with each of her violated holes...gross lumps forming beneath the skin, painful swollen nodules faces with raw genitalia, and she looked up at the terrible architect of all this, the dark cloud that was looking down at her, it's dark lance still poised.

"Please..." The reporter's voice choked with pain. "Help me. Make it stop."

Then the face smiled. "As you wish..."

A single black drop fell from the cloud...a fat block teardrop which, in its final moments, took on a flagellating black tail and a bullet-shaped head...and Lois felt the warm slick body fall straight into the virginal cunt on her forehead.

The orgasm began as the black body traveled down, her entire body quivering in sudden spastic movements. Her breast gave birth first, a torrent of fluid bursting down her chest as her waters broken, and then the painful yet pleasurable contractions as something small but heavy was pushed out.

At that signal, it seemed her entire body was taken over. One by one, each of her cunts in turn disgorged their load, the reporter helpless before the wracking spasms, the instinctive contractions, and a long, rolling, painful series of orgasms that left her white and gasping, leaving behind only a strange emptiness from her violated holes.

Yet she could feel, each moment, the black swimmer making its way impossibly far down inside Lois' head, and she wondered how deep it went...and what would happen when it reached its destination. And with each birth, her body seemed to grow less buoyant, sinking slowly, no longer bothered by the mass of wrigglers, until only her face remained above the water, staring into the dark cloud, and feeling the sudden pressure inside her skull that told her soon it would all be over...