*Static*
In comes a male Anatrmia with his bright cyan two-pairs antennas hidden under a ten-gallon Bessonian hat with a wide rim. He stands in front of a rather gauche rectangular building shaped like a clam with flashing lights on a sign which declares quite proudly this establishment as a ‘SEX-TAURANT’.
“Hey y’all. I’m Xox of Xox’s Lover-Sextaurant” He tips his hat, clicking his girthy pair of mandibles with quite the bit of pride. “And though my name may be nothing to write home about, my dining establishment is, serving the best edible orgasm this side of the galaxy*”
*Not yet verified by Space Government Studies
“What’s a sextaurant you might be asking? What an unfortunate question if you haven’t had the pleasure yet!” The background behind him changes, showing inside this business are various private stalls with a curtain, but behind them are not tables but heart-shaped beds with the most interesting of computers attached. “Have you ever imagined what the orgasm of a three-dicked Stiguid would taste like? How the tryst of three Quadrozax would dance on your tongue? How about if a Focuu’s twenty day orgy was a recipe cooked to perfection.” He makes the chef’s kiss with his mandibles. “Well, if you haven’t, then you should!”
One of those three-dicked Stiguid, with its bulbous head and four tentacled-limbs currently using all parts of the Bessonian booty by plugging her sopping lips with a 9-incher, stuffing her lubricated moo-hole with a 12-incher, and was currently space-dogging those plentiful butt-cheeks with his 24-incher, all while pulling her powerful arms back with its suction-cupped tentacles. “To say that the interspecies date-night is going well is understatement, and it’s about it’s about to get better folks!”
Probing lubricant, brood juice and moo juice is just splashing everywhere as they achieve a mutual climax which shakes their entire stall, the Bessonian completely splattered in juices and surely staining that neon-pink mini dress and nice white bow upon her mane. However, there’s going to be no complaint of laundry when the computer nearby shakes and processes the pleasure it has just analyzed. Within a couple of space measurements of time, the machine prints out a 3-d rendition of their love-making in the form of rich, dark Dirilian chocolate made into a statue of that very position they were trying before.
As they take turns feeding themselves in their after glow, the chocolate’s aphrodisiac starts coming into effect, ensuring that they won’t being laying flaccid and exhausted for long. “And it’s just that simple! Top any date-night with our amazingly comfortable beds and feeding-hole-watering food! Even if you’re not a fan of sweets, we offer all kinds of salty, bitter, sour or even bland flavors, more than any sentient being could ask for, all perfectly expressing with taste of your amazing coitus.”
Another pair of door opens, revealing a large banquet hall filled with beds. “And don’t think that this is just for couples! Every sundown we have sexually shows with samplings of every type of climax one can put in your greedy mouth!” A giant fishbowl is lowered onto middle stage as dozens of couples watch on as two gigantic Cthuvus tangle their mouth tentacles together, feeling up their space-ship-sized tits before an explosion of pheromones burst out into the water, dying the water a bright glowing green. Each bed then gets a serving of delicious green pizza which they gobble up with immense pleasure, leading to an applause by means of fucking, slapping brooding balls and rump cheeks echoing in the hall.
“So come down to Xox’s Lover-Sextaurant today and see what your friends are no doubt already talking about! Sex, entertainment, food! Get them in that order and start it all over again!” His mandibles click and two pink females of his species come over with their plump metasoma-booties and he put his arms around both. “Me and my wives do agree that if y’all come over to eat, you’ll have satisfaction guaranteed!”
♩ ♪ ♫ Come down to Xox’s/ Take off your Socks/ Get off your Rocks/ Then Eat it like Lox! ♩ ♪ ♫
Shhhhhhhhhhh
"Goodness gracious that was a terrible jingle." The host with a belly about as round as a planet rubs the back of his sweaty neck before bouncing back onto centre stage, his earpiece having screamed at him that his microphone is on. “Welcome back, welcome back! I know sometimes commercial breaks can feel like months sometimes, but we’ve gotta be kind to our wonderful sponsors of this smut, right folks?”
A new studio audience is now made up completely with Cybertechvakians from the planet of 10101, with them being the victors of the latest contest to win tickets to this shooting of Fillerton. They’re tall, busty robots with the shape similar to the Amazonians of Jungelania VI just with even fuller booties, complete with more pleasure sockets than any other synthetic-being in the galaxy. Though just as horny as all other sentient consuming this reality show, applauding was unknown to this cybernetic species, their dildo-hands simply having no use for the act. However, playing along, their plump lips pumped full of electricity open wide and play audio recordings downloaded to their motherboard to simulate clapping.
“Anyways, before we introduce our next humans to deliciously corrupt, I’d like to show some submitted comments from our fans. You guys have humbled us with your continued enthusiasm and it’s only due to you that we continue to keep the lights on here, so thank you so much!” The pleasure on his face is as authentic as Naazarian gold and he points behind his big bottom to show off the lit up screen of many pleased viewers from across the galaxy. Most just show off the aftermath of their climaxes in forms of hot masturbation and/or orgies, but some have sent in letters.
“I like this one especially.” The host put on a pair of space-glasses (they hover, in case you’re wondering), and reads from the space paper (it also, shockingly, hovers). “Please stop making this show. My doctor says that I’m orgasming past the point that’s at all healthy for my species, but I can’t stop consuming what those stupidly-sexy dumb-humans get up to and then I get aroused and cum again! Seriously, I’ve become addicted to this show and if I do die, it’s my dying wish to appear on the show!”
There’s again no movement from the audience, the open lips now giving a sympathetic coo in unison.
“Well, we’d love to help you there, viewer! We’ll see what we can do about you getting on the show, but in the meantime, have you looked into the home version of the game? Adopt your own family in Fillerton and corrupt them using the space-tablet in your very own house! Just with our low, low subscription price and you can turn some boring human brood-unit’s life upside down. In the meantime though, we’re not going to stop making content as long as people are excited!”
Again, motionless cries of joys emit from their oral-speakers before shutting off just as quickly.
“So, let’s just cut to the chase here, boys, girls and all between.” There’s a snap from his fingers, and the dark lighting around him lightens up to a more lively green. “Fillerton is now progressing to the next day, and though it’s Saturday morning, with the amazing technology which creates the simulation of the town, the cold winter night has given way to the first warm day of Spring!” He winks. “Time doesn’t really matter here after all. We’ll put Spring Break next to Christmas if we so desire.”
The image behind him shows the town transitioning to spring, grey trees and skies now giving way to fluttering and blooming flower pedals and much more luscious sunshine. Slowly the camera lowers down to a street near on the otherside of town compared to Richmann Road, the undetectable recording equipment zooming in just enough to make out the sign.
“Yes, welcome to Whitman Lane.” Our chubby entertainer makes a prism with his fingers and gives a little chortle. “And if you were feeling insane desire to corrupt those other lower-class humans, you’ll find upper-class humans even more enraging and deserving of quite the transformation.” He flips through pictures of typical life for upper class humans, and shakes his heads. “Imagine, as these people dine on pure, exquisite dishes for their greedy bellies, buy more rooms for their enormous houses, and even spoil the animals they steal to have as pets, they find time to bemoan the laziness of the lower class as they continue to steal wealth from them!”
A limb shoots up from one of the Cybertechvakians put their dildo-hands up as if they’re school and the host tilts his head. “Uh, we seem to have a question from the studio audience.”
The one member of the studio audience from the furthest corner stands up, opening her lips but not moving them in speech. “I am member #239538630483506720138045867 of Cybertechvakians and we have taken an instant democratic vote to engage in an orgy for the next 3 hours 26 minutes 53 seconds 44 milliseconds 23 microseconds with an option of extension by a maximum of 2 billion Planck Time units if the pleasure is sufficient of 1020 pleasure units (unitgasms) or greater. We are submitting this information for debate among the organics in the room before continuing.”
The host looks over his shoulder to his left and right, seeing that he’s the only non-synthetic in the room. “Uh, please proceed?””
”OH YES OH YES OH YES OH YES OH YES OH YES OH YES OH YES OH YES OH YES OH YES OH YES OH YES OH YES OH YES OH YES!” A repeated cry from the babe bots now echo in the room as like smooth machinery the dildo hands of each machine rubs each pleasure socket with seamless precision, sparks flying wildly with enough electricity produced by even one of those pleasure limbs to power a space-colony.
The host feels the remaining hair on the back of his head start to rise from the building static electricity in the air. “Well, we hope Fillerton can add to your orgy pleasure!”
“YES, WE LOVE CORRUPTING HU-MANS!” They say in unison before going back to: “OH YES OH YES OH YES OH YES OH YES OH YES OH YES OH YES!”
He shrugs. “Alright then. Anyways, richness aside, what makes this street quite a bit different from Richmann Road is that we won’t need to be delivering any strange packages. Instead, the big difference is that the corruption has already started.” He pulls out a vial from his back pocket and gives a flamboyant point to it. “Viewers at home? Please welcome to the program the sentient virus-people of Jublix 34, the Porna!”
Obviously not even the greatest pair of oculi could see what was swimming in that semi-translucent yellow liquid, but the monitor behind him showed off an ultra-zoom of a spacescope to show off what looked a crowd of bumpy circles with four long limbs. They waved to the camera, the subtitles reading out below.
"Hello Viewers! Or as us Viri and Virions like to joke, hello future hosts!"
“OH YES OH YES OH YES OH YES OH YES OH YES OH YES OH YES Ha Ha We Love Humour OH YES OH YES OH YES OH YES OH YES OH YES OH YES OH YES!”
“Now, we know across the galaxy that the Porna as wondrous people who not only keep beings healthy, but also increase pleasure in all sexual activities. Plus, they’re also great party animals! However, when added to a human eco-system, they will certainly wreck the quite delicate balance of power and community considering their primitive forms of production and social societies.”
“So what can these great guys do to humans?” He swirls the viral slightly to make the liquid inside to change the colour to a light violet hue. “Anything they want! Like most species hosting the Porna, the flesh and mind becomes like putty, and we’ve contracted some of their members out cause a little outbreak of fun on Whitman Lane.”
The recording on the screen plays the previous evening before on Whitman Lane, showing off a neighborhood gathering of barbecue, basketball playing, pool swimming and general elation of a upper-crust, all-American neighborly get together. “Looks like fun right? Burgers, beer and basketball? What could be sweeter?” He winks. “Porna virus, that’s who! We’ve already tainted the heck out of them with this stuff! They’ve jumped into the burgers these neighbours barbecued up. They’ve dripped it into their pool while these spoiled teen girls were having their party. We’ve slathered it on the sportsball the young teen boys were playing. All will have a bit of Porna in them, but their job is to spread, spread and spread!” He chuckles. “Did I mention they’re favourite way to travel is being sexually transmitted? And let me just assure you, that they’ll morph any body to make sure they spread more and more!” He shrugs. "They'll probably clean up their bodies too, curing them of disease and decay just so the host can have more sex."
There’s a time skip of the recording, showing the unknowingly drunk upper-crust slowly retiring to their dwellings and once they were gone, some serious action started happening at the other end of this cul-de-sac. “Some are more infected than others, but we’re leaving nothing up to chance. Now that the virus has started to spread, we’ve had our own staff set up a quarantine under the guise of the local authorities and no one will be the wiser to it. Now no one will be getting out until they're fully infected, and even better, we'll let others come in to shake things up. Oh what fun!” Two massive and imposing military vehicles took up the road while aliens in humanoid hazmat suits patrolled with gas-canister launchers filled with special arousing chemicals, making sure no one would leave without getting fucked. A quick show from the other side though, showed that their cloaking technology would make it seem everything was completely normal on this sleepy block for anyone passing by.
“But everything will become much more clear once we start playing. For now, let’s do a bit of introducing, shall we?” His hands clap as the camera zooms over the various finely trimmed hedges, perfectly shiny green grass, and identical blue recycling bins matched up to a near scientific accuracy from their tall McMansions to near sparkling white curb. A near entire neighbour sleeping in on this Saturday, completely ignorant of the iron tight sequestration from the rest of Fillerton
Four houses sparkle upon a rather long lane of houses. “There are many people on this street, but I’d like to focus on four in particular right now, just to give some context and perspective, to explain the first four potential positions for patient zero.”
The camera centers on an gauche near-orange painted home that looks more suitable below the border. “This is the Richardson household filled with new money trying to break into the high society which it worked hard to get into. They were the hosts of the big neighbourhood barbecue, wanting to impress their snobby neighbours for some reason, but there’s no doubt their tainted burgers are going to get them a lot of accusations thrown their way. We’ll see if the argument this traditional carnivore father and vegan burger munching son has any effect on the virus inside of them. We’ll have to find out!”
The next house looked almost tudor like in how it oozed class and snobbier, seeming to tower over the rest with one incredibly high brick chimney. “And here we have the Lathrop household, and they’ve seemingly been rich since time began. They’re the who’s who of families in Fillerton and a good chunk of the town used to be employed in their local factories before they shipped their jobs overseas. We could bore you with details about the local royalty and their three daughters, but let’s just say that they might have more interesting things to deal with than local politics when the traditional views of this conservative-aligned political dynasty is challenged by the positively oozing sexuality all around them. Let’s just say their pool water may be to blame! We’ll see!”
The next house is almost a textbook definition of a ‘McMansion’ with it’s tall columns which serve no purpose, fake balcony, undersized windows besides an greatly oversized one. “What would the upper class be without their gladiators? Retired ones at least, as this sporty family of former football player and cheerleader with their two sons had quite the game of basketball late into the night with the rest of the neighborhood. However, almost everyone noted of the stickiness of that basketball, almost causing a full on fist fight over cheating! Of course they blamed the younger brother’s sticky hands, but we know better. Will things remain the same in this house when the king of house is challenged? Look out Whitman Lane as some insanity is coming your way from the Haines household!”
Finally, the final house with it’s humble single floor country-style and spotlessly maintained drive-way and garden seems to be rather unremarkable except for its always closed blinds. “But let’s not forget the household which perhaps stands out most from the rest. Yana Medvedyeva is a widower living with her niece from the old country and keeps a tight ship both in and outside the house. Their personalities obviously clash and the such, but perhaps some suspicion on some products brought from the far east will bring these women together. You’ll just have to tune in and watch!”
“So that’s our set up for now, but of course, there are other homes just as ripe for infection as these ones! The only certain thing is that things will get crazier and crazier until the whole neighborhood and maybe even town are completely flipped upside down!” His earpiece starts to scream at him again, letting him know that he was supposed to start minutes ago with the next part. “Okay, okay, hold onto your shorts, producer! I’ve got to give the summary before we start!”
Behind the monitor lit up behind him, noting the points in full:
-Whitman, an upper class neighbourhood, is now under quarantine which will prevent any neighbour from leaving.
-Our crews are surrounding the neighbourhood to surveil the outbreak, and ‘assist’ it wherever possible.
-All neighbours have been infected with a certain amount of Porna Virus, whose only goal is to spread as much as possible.
-Symptoms of the Porna Virus include: heightened arousal, rapid expansion and/or reduction, personality changes and so much more!
-What form the virus will take will depend on the infected body. Some will be more fit for Transformus Amazonus, while others may be better suited for Metamorphasus Futasus. Of course, mass Transmutationus Bimbous is also possible!
-Four families are currently the focus:
*the Richardson’s, four family household of Divorced dad, Step-mom, nerdy daughter and genderfluid vegan son;
*the Lathrop with Rich businessman/politician/patriarch, cut-throat wife, and three daughter each more gorgeous than the last;
*the Haines with slowly fattening, retired NFL running-back, cougar cheerleading mom, overachieving athlete older brother and fails-to-impress younger brother;
*the Medvedyavas with quite the mysterious older woman with her rebellious young niece from out of country.
“Got it?” More yelling from his earpiece as apparently the producer doesn’t have much of a sense of humour. “Let’s go!”
Sun Mar 01 07:40:29 2020
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3 comments Last updated: Sun Mar 1 23:58:01 2020