He Be Uncle Genesis
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PUPPET: Genesis free porn video
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is an 'open universe', free to be used by anybody,
in any way they see fit. MOREOVER; for every single PUPPET story
written and posted by anybody else, I shall create a 'matching
donation' of roughly equal length - that is to say, I shall write and
post a PUPPET story myself. In fact, this is an 'open offer', not
merely limited to TG. I will match length-for-length, genre-for-genre,
fetish-for-fetish, including - but not limited to - TG, TF, BE, PE, MC,
SHEM, ROBO, FURRY, PREG and just about anything else you can name.
PUPPET: GENESIS
By A.N. O'Nimus
"Idiots!"
Pausing both in motion and diatribe, the wizened little man shifted the
box of eclectic electronic components to one hip for better balance,
then quite literally kicked his way through a drift of wire snippets
and discarded bread-boards that surrounded the workbench in the corner
of the attic workshop.
Knobby legs flying, gray-white hair frazzled and in disarray, the tiny
little man looked the part of a garden gnome gone mad. The 'garden
gnome' part of the description was enhanced by the old-fashioned green
waistcoat he wore along with his equally outdated ensemble of dark
brown britches and faded white wing-collar shirt.
The 'mad' part needed nothing to enhance it, a sort of maniacally
gleeful light dancing in his faded electric-blue eyes as he kicked and
stomped his way towards the machine laying half-assembled on his
workbench.
The little gnome's name was Bradley Taylor Danforth and in his younger
days he'd been known as an innovative - if eccentric - genius in the
obscure field of sub-quantum determination. Given an intellect spoken
on par with that of Heisenberg or Einstein, his then-few eccentricities
had been overlooked - but it's said there is a fine line between genius
and madness and in the case of Bradley Danforth, that line had
collapsed under the weight of his eighty-seven years on the planet.
Now, Danforth's genius was directly wedded to - and under the control
of - his madness.
"Morons!" Danforth resumed his shouting at the imperturbable old
rafters that made up the ceiling of his Victorian home's attic. "Refuse
to see the truth! 'Oh, Danforth, no scientific principal can be made to
work based simply on the interaction of human consciousness'. What
about Shroedinger's Cat, you imbeciles?"
Reaching the workbench, Danforth laid the box beside his half-assembled
device and quickly went to work, his gnarled hands moving with
surprising dexterity.
"Gonna prove my theory." He muttered to himself, gleefully. "Gonna
teach them all. Gonna show them that the universe is - and can be -
determined by 'mere' human consciousness. Show them all..."
Carefully laying the last wire into the last connection, he screwed
down the butterfly clamp to hold it in place. Stepping back, the insane
genius studied his misbegotten brainchild with paternal affection.
It looked like nothing more then a child's toy - a toy rocket, to be
exact.
Well it should. The casing for the device was built out of an old AM
radio that had been shaped in the form of what barely pre-spaceflight
designers imagined a rocket would look like - that is to say, a
pointed-topped cigar-like object with four fins, painted in red-and-
white checkerboard pattern.
"You'll make them believe..." He said, affectionately, patting the top
of his device. "You'll show the world that the pan-universe not only
exists, but can be 'chosen'..."
Reaching out, Danforth tripped the relay switch.
Light flared in the tail of the rocket and a low, deep hum began deep
in its bowels.
"One shot!" Danforth cried, exuberantly. "One shot that will change the
world!"
The hum began rising in both pitch and volume, while the light on the
machine began to increase in power.
"One small step for man..." Danforth screamed. "...and a giant leap in
proving my pan-universal theories!"
Laughing, Danforth reached out and caressed the hand-carved nameplate
in the side of the machine, feeling the building vibrations through the
letters etched into his device's metal chassis: PUPPET
Pan-Universal Proprietary Probability Equation Transformer.
A device based on the theory that Danforth had secretly proved true -
that there was an infinite number of universes out there, with infinite
possibilities - and that such universes could be 'chosen' by what a
person might utter.
"Show 'em, baby..." Danforth crooned...
...and, as PUPPET's sound spiraled up out of the range of human
hearing, it quite simple... vanished.
***
PUPPET, technically, stood perfectly still. Even as the myriad versions
of the planet earth revolved below it, altering it's geophysical
location on the ovoid sphere of the planet, PUPPET remained 'suspended'
and motionless relative to a fixed place in it's own, obscure orbit.
It was nevertheless 'speeding', however - in directions that mankind
had never mapped or measured.
Operating on a set of random-number registers in it's electronic
abdomen, PUPPET flicked through the limitless number of 'alternate
universes' that shared the same physical space as earth, but on
different planes of existence.
It flickered briefly through a universe where the only difference was
what a single man in Pyongyang hand for lunch and then through another
where mankind had never descended from the trees. Randomly, the device
flipped through various universe, in each of which just about any
possible even or situation could exist...
...until, at a time randomly programmed in it's bank of registers, it
'popped' back into it's home universe, several hours - and many miles -
from where it's unseen, now-endless journey had begun.
***
Studiously studying the caked-on oil and grease beneath his
fingernails, Zeke named the price: "Twelve hundred."
The man standing opposite him in the two-bay garage blinked in
confusion - then his face went white in comprehension, changing quickly
into the beet-red flush of anger.
"What?" The skinny young man demanded, angrily. "You said two or three
hundred, tops!"
Zeke grinned wickedly and contrived a shrug of his broad shoulders.
"More work then I thought. The whole trans-differential mesh-gear was
shot."
The pale, skinny young man spluttered angrily. "You... You..."
Without thinking, the young man took an angry step towards the
mechanic...
Clearing his throat noisily, Zeke spread his hairy, slab-sided legs
wide and 'casually' crossed his arms over his chest. Since the grimy
blue work shirt he was wearing hung open in deference to the southern
Georgia heat, it meant that the mechanic was crossing his heavily
muscled arms over his brawny, hairy chest. A 'coincidental' stance that
quite obviously drew the difference between the heavy musculature of
the platinum-haired mechanic and the slender, pale build of the dark-
haired patron of Zeke's Gas and Go.
The other man, obviously a college student on his way down to a couple
of weeks of 'sun and fun', drew up short, his narrow face still livid
with anger.
"This is extortion!" The dark-haired younger man shouted, angrily. "You
know I'm stuck in this piddling little burg without my car! Well, screw
you, buddy - I'm getting my car and getting out of here!"
"I got a mechanic's lien on the car." Zeke said, smiling. "Take it
without paying and you'll be in jail within the hour... and, oh, by the
way -- did I mention that my brother's the sheriff in these parts?"
Even further enraged, the helpless student spluttered ineffectually, as
Zeke congratulated himself on yet another successful 'side line
transaction' - namely, separating dumb-ass know-it-all college kids
from their rich daddy's money.
"So, it's twelve hundred or you ain't going nowhere. That's twelve
hundred American dollars, cash or charge - unless you know another way
of paying."
The defrauded student spluttered for an appropriate response...
...and was so angry that he didn't even notice the odd little 'thunk'
sound.
Zeke, however, instinctively glanced towards the source of the sound -
and frowned slightly at the sight of what seemed to be a toy rocket,
sitting on the college student's shoe.
Zeke wondered where the hell it had come from. From it's position,
you'd think the little toy had been dropped by the student - yet the
student hadn't been holding anything at all, so where the hell did...
Zeke's musing about the toy rocket was interrupted as the student
finally found his voice and an 'appropriate' response:
"Yeah, I've got your 'alternate form of payment..." The dark-haired
young man shouted, infuriated. "Blow me!"
Zeke opened his mouth to respond...
...then suddenly fought a wave of vertigo as the world whirled around
him.
It was as if the world had suddenly turned to liquid and was rippling
in a whirlpool - but the 'liquid' was filled with strange collars and
shapes, as if a hundred transparent images were superimposed, one atop
another, then set into a spinning dervish centered on him.
Then, strangely, the other images began to fade - except for one.
Swirling around, semi-transparent but visible, was a double-image of
the same thing he was seeing through the transparent image - his own
garage.
Except... it wasn't quite the same.
Zeke could see through the whirling, shimmering 'mirage' image and had
no problem making out the cheesecake pin-up calendar image on the wall
behind the student. A mostly naked woman sprawled across silk sheets on
the image above the dates - yet, in the wavering superimposed image,
the 'same' calendar boasted a muscular, mostly-nude man leaning against
a fire-engine.
The 'double image' young man remained exactly the same in both images -
both staring at Zeke oddly, still angry but now also confused and Zeke
figured it was because he could see some of what Zeke was seeing, but
from the 'outside' - which made Zeke wonder if the student saw any of
the 'not-quite-the-same' images that Zeke could see from his panoramic
position in the eye of the storm.
Like the shirts hanging from the coat-rack near the door of the bay. In
the 'real world' image, it was exactly as it should have been - a clean
work-shirt, with Zeke's name sewn on the breast and Zeke's change of
clothes, a loud Hawaiian shirt.
In the double-image Zeke was seeing, there was something definitely
wrong. The work-shirt was still basically the same - except that the
name stitched in italic letters on its breast was 'Zena'.
The Hawaiian shirt was gone altogether - to be replaced with what
certainly appeared to be a spandex tube-top...
"What the fuck..." Zeke cried - and it was if his words were some sort
of signal, for that transparent whirlwind suddenly tightened in on him,
the 'eye' shrinking down to nothing as the whirlpool enveloped him...
...and he began to change.
The muscular arms still crossed over his chest began to become slimmer,
finer-boned - even as they were pushed further away from his ribcage,
without leaving contact with his warm flesh. Flesh that was becoming
smother and more softly firm as it bulged outward in two firm, conical
shapes that looked an awful lot like...
No. It couldn't be...
...but the things those two now-doming lumps couldn't be would
certainly have gone well with the once-muscular legs that were now
becoming smoother and shapelier or with the trim waist now rapidly
shrinking inwards over a swelling set of hips supporting a fuller,
firmer ass...
"I'm turning into a woman!" Zeke cried in horror, yanking now slender
arms away from what he could no longer convince himself weren't breasts
- and fairly large, firm ones at that, being at least a nicely domed
DD-cup.
The high-soprano scream he had let out was incorrect, however.
He wasn't becoming a woman.
He - she - was one.
"What the hell!" She screamed in horror as the whirlwind vanished. She
gaped at the equally stunned young man, her slim hands lightly touching
the now-smooth denim of the shorts that perfectly fit her well-rounded
hips, then flying up to lightly touch the surface of the full,
sensitive breasts thrust from her open work-shirt.
"This is fucking impossible!" She screamed, staring down at the firm
breasts thrust from her equally feminine ribcage. Zeke... Zena? ...took
a hesitant step back on the smaller, slimmer fit that filled the now
smaller work boots she wore and tried to deny the obvious.
She was certainly a woman.
A rather attractive one, at that, what with a well-toned, athletic body
with smooth, well-tanned skin standing out in sharp contrast to her
long ponytail of platinum-blonde hair and her bright-pink nipples in
the pale triangles of a bikini tan-line that had appeared on her new
bust.
The college student certainly seemed to find the new form attractive -
since, despite the stunned look on his face from the sudden,
inexplicable transformation, he was switching his gaze from the long,
toned legs well-displayed by the tight 'Daisy Duke' shorts to the full
breasts thrust from the shirt now labeling the mechanic as 'Zena'.
"Damn..." The dark-haired young man breathed. "You're... hot..."
Zena opened her fuller new lips to retort angrily - and then stopped,
eyes widening in horror...
...as she felt an incredibly powerful urge take hold at the sight of
the burgeoning erection pressing at the young man's crotch.
Unconsciously, Zena licked her lips - as the urge grew stronger.
"No..." She whispered to herself in horror... but the denial was in
vain, for even as she voiced it, the sensation went from 'urge' to
'need'.
He needed a cock in her mouth.
She needed cum in her stomach.
She NEEDED to give a blow job...
...RIGHT NOW!
"Okay..." She heard her voice said, stunned by the words emerging,
unbidden, from her altered lips. "It's a deal. Let me suck your cock
and we'll call it even..."
Stunned at the burly mechanic's transformation into a sexy woman, much
less one willing - nay, by the hungry tone of her voice, eager - to
suck his cock, the student stammered incoherently.
Zena tried to tell herself this lack of affirmation meant she should
not go through with this - but even as she was desperately trying to
convince herself of this, her desperate need was driving her to take a
step forward, eyes fixed on the very crotch her hands were helplessly
reaching out for as she helplessly, hungrily, licked her full new lips.
Given this, the college student simply stopped thinking altogether and
let whatever was going to happen, happen.
Helplessly, Zena found herself kneeling before the man she'd tried to
defraud, her slender new hands reaching out for the man's pants. As she
unzipped his trousers and yanked them and his underwear down, she noted
in stunned vagueness that her nails, while no longer, were now a pale
pink...
...then all vague, random thoughts ceased as she saw the man's now-
rigid cock.
Indeed, almost all thoughts ceased altogether, as her new set of
nymphomaniac needs took over.
For the next few minutes, the sexy woman knelling on the garage bay
floor was purely Zena - that is, the alternate-universe version of
Zeke, a mindless nymphomaniac who, rather then defraud young men, used
her 'power' of position to secure the sexual acts she so desperately
needed.
Not all of the 'Zena' mind had transitioned through the breach in the
universes. Much of the mind inhabiting the sexy new body was the
'original 'ZEKE - but, along with the desperate cravings of Zena had
come a whole new host of feminine skills, ranging from make-up and
feminine social graces...
...to giving an absolutely mind-blowing blow job.
It was this latter set of skills that the new woman employed.
Her hands worked like a master flautist, dancing over the student's
cock and balls. Sometimes in rhythm to the bobbing of her head,
sometimes in counterpoint - but all designed to do the same thing her
variations in suction, her licking and sucking and her lick-locked
bobbing were designed to do.
Get her the cum she so desperately craved.
With all the skill she was employing, it didn't take long for her to
bring the student to orgasm.
With on final squeeze of his balls in accompaniment to a swipe of her
tongue over the man's super-sensitive glans, the dark-haired student
gasped and began to cum - and she eagerly pulled her mouth back until
her lips were tightly sealed just behind the throbbing head of the
cock, so that the wonderful cum wasn't 'wasted' by shooting down her
throat. Instead, she let it fill her hungry mouth, so that she could
taste and feel the flavor an texture of the cum she so desperately -
and so often - craved, loving every drop of it with pure, Zena-driven
delight...
...until the instant when the man stopped coming and the 'Zena-fied
Zeke' mind returned with the horrified realization of what she had just
done and what she was still tasting in her mouth.
All things considered, it wasn't the least bit surprising that neither
the stunned - but satisfied - student, nor the satisfied - but
horrified - new woman noticed the fact that a 'toy rocket' had simply
vanished...
***
Having 'cut the strings' to the alternate universes as it had narrowed
them down to the one it had finally imbued in Zeke, PUPPET now began
collecting new 'strings' of universes for it's collection. More and
more alternate possibilities attached themselves to it's deceptively
simple hull as it flitted through the universe - while, inside, a clock
that ad been randomly set upon leaving 'Earth Zero' counted down to the
time when it would re-enter it's home universe.
Return to it's own universe, carrying with it a host of alternate
possibilities - which it would use to prove it's creator's theories,
choosing elements of whatever alternate universe that most closely
matched whatever words that would happen to be spoken by the person
closest to it at the time of 're-entry'.
(SEMI-FINI)
Alma
- 02.03.2020
- 7
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