Night Skies Hotel III: More Than Meets The Eye free porn video

Night Skies Hotel III: More Than Meets the Eye By Solari A plume of creamy white smoke streamed from the young woman's full, pouty mouth as she straddled her latest lover. Trissa was smoking again, as she almost always did before, during and after sex. She held the long, slender cigarette between the long-nailed, delicate fingers of one hand while her other hand was buried within her long, thick, luxurious mane of flame-colored hair as she slid up and down her lover's long, hard red pole. "Are you enjoying this as much as I am?" she asked as she leaned down and planted a big, wet kiss on her lover's lips. "Definitely," he replied, his voice indistinct. "The service at this hotel has been beyond reproach. I'll definitely recommend it ...," he moaned as Trissa rubbed her breasts against his sweat-slicked chest, "... to my other clients in the future." "You're a good fucker," Trissa groaned, her long-nailed hands kneading her firm 'D' cup melons as she continued to impale herself upon his penis. "Much too good to ever let go." "Insistent, are we?" the man replied, his hands on her pear-shaped buttocks, savoring their softness. "You should know, Trissa, that it's going to take much more than a good fuck before I ever offer professional advice to your employer." The words echoed in Trissa's mind. "You should know, Trissa, that it's going to take much more than a good fuck before I ever offer professional advice to your employer." "Don't count on it, lover," she cooed as the entire length of her lover's penis disappeared deep into her pussy, gripped tightly by her vaginal muscles, the soft folds of her labial lips clinging to his rod. Trissa took a long, deep pull from her Capri 120 cigarette, held the smoke in her lungs for a moment, and then exhaled a plume into her lover's indistinct face. He bucked as he sprayed his load deep into Trissa. At the same time, a warm feeling spread outward from her center as she, too, climaxed. Trissa slid off of her lover's wilting penis and lay on her side in bed next to him. She contemplated him as she picked up the employee orientation packet from the nightstand. She smiled devilishly as she looked to see what position he had been offered. "I suppose I can't blame you," she mentioned. "Being a dancer would be a big step down in life for such a bright star as you." "What? A dancer?" the man retorted, a mixture of confusion and anger in his voice. "When I talked to management last night, they said they needed an accountant!" His voice echoed again in Trissa's mind. "When I talked to management last night, they said they needed an accountant!" Trissa's smiled remained plastered on her face. "Well, they must have changed their minds after seeing how rowdy you got, especially ...," her voice trailed off as, for the first time, she got a clear look at her lover's face. Trissa felt her blood go cold, and she screamed. "Who are you?" she demanded, recognizing the man's face, but refusing to acknowledge the impossible. "What's your name?!" The man stared at her, uncomprehending. "Trevor," he said at long last. "I'm a freelance accountant who travels a lot. I came here for a business opportunity and some fun on the side. You got a problem with that?" As Trevor spoke, Trissa stared. She stared as his mouth grew full and pouty, his lips shiny with luscious red lipstick. She stared as his deep brown eyes began changing into beautiful emerald green orbs. And she stared, still speechless, as his light hair began to thicken and spill past his shoulders, becoming bright red in the process. Bright red. Just like her hair. A full, sassy mouth. Just like her mouth. Emerald green eyes, just like her own eyes. "Hey, are you all right?" Trevor asked. He seemed strangely unaware of his own changes, which were now accelerating. "You look pale." Trissa shook her head vigorously and squeezed her eyes shut, but Trevor refused to go away. She scrambled out of the bed, trying to get away from the impossible, but he reached out and grabbed on to her leg with a soft, feminine hand that now ended in effeminate, long-nailed fingers. "You can't leave me just like that!" Trevor said. "We've got some unfinished business!" Trissa broke free from his grip and stood unsteadily near the bed, her mind still not totally comprehending what it was processing in front of her very own eyes. Still on the bed, Trevor pouted, his arms folded across his chest. But his pout soon faded away, replaced by a blank look that spread across his face as his emerald green eyes became distant and unfocused. "Get out of here!" Trissa rasped, an edge in her voice. "Get out of this room! Get out of the hotel!" She sobbed. "You don't have much time, Trevor! Get out while you still can!" But time now Trevor's enemy. Mesmerized, he didn't flinch as his aerolae darkened and expanded as large, engorged nipples swelled to attention. He didn't cry out as his soft, hairless, sweaty chest heaved and began to bulge behind his new nipples and dark aerolae, quickly developing into a pair of firm, prominent mammaries that rode proudly on his chest. Rivulets of hot sweat trickled down the deep, hairless valley between his new tits ... Trissa rushed at Trevor, intent on dragging him out of the room. But she instinctually knew she was already far too late: The development of his pussy - in the form of a thick, inverted triangular patch of red pubic hair sprouting above his erect penis - had already started. Light filled Trevor's emerald green eyes, and he began to sway to the beat of hypnotic music that was only now becoming audible, and hauntingly familiar, to Trissa. As he kept up with the music's beat, his body continued to soften and shrink: his waist constricted; his hips flared outward; and his buttocks swelled, hot sweat glistening upon the soft, nubile skin of his supple ass cheeks. Cheeks that would be parted to expose Trevor's developing pussy to whatever lovers he might bed as an employee of the Night Skies Hotel. Time closed in on Trissa as she watched helplessly, and a strong sense of deja vu filled her senses. She pressed her hands against her head and began to blubber. "No. No. No. No. This isn't ... this isn't happening. NO!" "Want a cigarette?" Trissa looked up at Trevor. No, not Trevor. Not anymore. A second Trissa now sat on the bed. A long, slender Capri 120 was already between her full, pouty lips, and she held the pack out to her doppelganger. Trissa automatically reached for her pack of Capri 120s, and the bed-bound Trissa lit up her long, slender cigarette, inhaling deeply, luxuriously. "I'm going to be such a slutty dancer," she pronounced, releasing a stream of creamy white smoke from her mouth. "So slutty ..." *** Trissa sat bolt upright in her bed and shook her head as echoes of sound and fleeting images faded quickly away in her mind. She pinched herself - "Ouch!" - to make sure she was really awake and glanced around the luxurious suite she shared with her roommate, Megan, but saw nothing out of the ordinary in the darkness. Everything was in place: all of her belongings, the fixtures, and the slow, steady rise-and-fall of Megan's bare chest, her ample breasts visible in the dim glow cast by, of all things, a nightlight. "It was just a dream," Trissa whispered to herself. Her voice rose. "Another damn dream." "Yeah, tell me about it," Megan muttered, sitting up. It was obvious she hadn't slept well, either. "Your dreams have a nasty habit of making for many sleepless nights, and not just for you." Trissa sighed. "I'll have to stop eating spicy food before bedtime, I guess." "Either that or simply try to relax more," Megan replied, settling back into bed. "It'll do you a world of wonders." She smiled encouragingly. "Now let's try and get some real sleep. Tomorrow is the first time the hotel will be back in a real timeline since we joined the staff, and we have to be ready for the influx of new sisters, er, customers." Trissa closed her eyes and was fast asleep within moments. This time, she did not dream. *** While Trissa, Megan and thousands of other women slept throughout the Night Skies Hotel complex - they did a lot of that when in the dimensionless void - a decision was made by management on the selection of a dimension and timeline in which to materialize. Power levels soared deep within the heart of the main hotel complex and the inky blackness of the void began to crackle with reactive energy as the protective energy sphere containing the complex pressed against and began to slide through a powerful dimensional barrier. The transition was completed in seconds, and a bright star blossomed into existence in the isolated desert and scrub country expanse of the American Southwest, circa 2003, our timeline. Management hadn't gone far, or even bothered to select a different timeline, from where the hotel had last materialized. There was no reason to, for the hunting was good in this particular timeline, which was just one of many timelines to choose from in this dimension. Even better, there had been no recent sign of the relentless foe that had shattered and occupied countless human timelines as it hunted for the Night Skies Hotel and its progeny, seeking to destroy the last vestige of its first conquest so long, long ago. The hotel complex powered down to normal levels and waited. The sun peeked over the horizon a few hours later and a truck driver, exhausted from a long overnight haul, pulled into the hotel's always nearly full parking lot and made his way into the complex. *** Trissa pushed her housekeeping cart along the plush hallways, the doors leading into various suites soon merging into a blur. It had been more than four days since the hotel had materialized, and she had been directly responsible for the addition of two new dancers to the hotel's poles while contributing to at least three other transformations: one to housekeeping, one to escort duty, and one to the casino. Trissa smiled, relishing the memory of the compliments she'd received from her sisters and, of course, from seeing and experiencing the births of new women, their growing tits pushing against her own, her luscious mouth liplocked with several of the raven-haired, emerald green-eyed beauties. A sign on one of the passing doors brought Trissa out of her reverie. It read, "Housekeeping Service Required." It was the fifthteenth such sign she'd encountered today, and dutifully entered the suite, expecting the usual messiness that most guests left: rumpled bedding, dirty bathrooms, various stains from sex fluids, ripped male clothing and the lingering scent of smoke from Capri 120 cigarettes. The scent of the smoke was about all that changed from suite to suite, since most of the women in the hotel complex enjoyed "flavored" Capri 120s: mint, spice, rum and other herbals being among the many choices available. "Well, it's about time you got here," a voice called out. "What the ...?" Trissa looked up from the cart and was surprised to see a sandy-haired man sitting on the suite's plush sofa. She regained her composure and became officious. "Sir, when you put those 'Housekeeping Service Required' signs on your door, it means you've either checked out or are busy elsewhere in the hotel." "Details, who needs them?" the man replied, smiling broadly. He was mostly naked, except for his underwear and some jewelry - a gold ring on his right hand and a necklace that was looped through some sort of small medallion. "I was lonely, and figured that the housekeeping staff, out of all the gorgeous women in this hotel, would be lonely, too." Trissa felt an all-too-familiar heat in her abdomen and smiled. "Well, you're right about the lonely part," she purred, her housekeeping work suddenly not as important. "My, you must be really lonely," the man replied as he stood and gestured toward the suite's bedroom. "I thought the seduction process would take longer than a minute." "We aim to please our guests," Trissa replied automatically, following him into the bedroom as she began stripping off her already skimpy work uniform. "And if it's sex you want, well, I can deliver just as well as our dancers and escorts can." "Call me Joaquin," the man said as he settled back into the bed, his erection poking prominently through his underwear. "And I know what your escorts and dancers are like - insistent, that's what. Two of them - Marissa and Megan, I believe - were really trying to get in my pants, but all they succeeded in doing was getting me drunk and horny for you." "Mmm ...," Trissa mumbled as she brought a long, slender Capri 120 to her mouth and lit it up. "Like I said, we aim to please." Mint-scented smoke began to fill the bedroom. "And you can call me Trissa, lover boy." Trissa straddled Joaquin and positioned herself above his now-exposed and throbbing penis. She lowered herself slowly and sensuously onto his organ, savoring the feeling as it penetrated her outer and inner labial lips and plunged deep into her hot, moist depths. She repeated the process and, before long, Joaquin and her had a sexy, squishy rhythm going. Smoke billowed from Trissa's pouty, red mouth as she bounced up and down Joaquin's pole, and she leaned over, rubbing her mammaries against his flat chest, smearing it with a hot, clear fluid that seeped from her engorged nipples. The fluid, which was also mixed in with Trissa's vaginal sex fluids, was lost amid the sweat glistening on Joaquin's chest as it soaked into him. Fifteen minutes passed, and Joaquin and Trissa were still going at it. Trissa was more than surprised at his endurance, as she had climaxed twice already. But, at long last, she felt his balls contract as he climaxed, sending a thick plume of cum deep into her reproductive tract. Spent, she slipped off of his still-erect penis and lay beside him, waiting. Joaquin, for his part, was oblivious to Trissa's sudden interest in his chest and pubic regions. A white-hot bolt of pain lanced through Trissa and she howled, flopping off the bed. "Well, it's about time it started," Joaquin muttered, looking over the edge of the bed to where Trissa was sprawled out on the carpet, squirming and writhing. "Uhhh," Trissa hissed, her teeth clenched through waves of pain. "This isn't supposed to be happening," she finally gasped. "Yeah, right. Don't play Miss Innocent, Trissa," Joaquin replied, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. "If things had gone your way, I'd be halfway to womanhood by now." Trissa's eyes widened. "You're delirious," she sputtered. "Too much booze, lover boy." Joaquin's smile faded. "What'd you have planned for me, bitch? Was I going to transform into some big-titted slut, like you?" He grew pensive for a moment. "Probably. That seems to be the primary modus operandi of this hotel's management." He gestured around the suite. "But this is so much more than a mere hotel isn't it?" "What did you do to me?!" Trissa spat viciously. The pain was finally fading away, but not the dreadful feeling that settled over her. "Why, I've freed your mind, Trissa," Joaquin replied as he stepped over her, looking for his clothes. "You really should be pleased, Trissa. Or should I say, Operative Trevor." Jumbled images began flashing through Trissa's mind. None of it made any sense yet, but things were obviously still coalescing in her mind. "You've been missing for six months, Trevor," Joaquin continued as he dressed. "It took the Patriarchy some time to confirm that you had succeeded in your deep-cover mission. It took us even more time, and a number of educated guesses, to figure out just where the Night Skies Hotel would manifest itself next." Finished dressing, Trevor sat on the bed and looked down at Trissa. "The cum I sprayed into you was far more than mere sperm and its support fluid. As we speak, it has entered your circulatory system and is speeding toward your mind, where it will cleanse you of the twisted influences of the Sisterhood." Coherency returned to Trissa's mind as names, numbers, images and knowledge began to make sense once again in her - or was it now Trevor's? - mind. A past she - he? - had seen shattered and scattered halfway through her transformation into a woman. "Welcome back to the Patriarchy, Trevor," Joaquin said, extending a hand to help Trevor to his feet. "With the knowledge you've gained during your time as a member of the Sisterhood, the Patriarchy will be able to destroy the Night Skies Hotel and crush whatever piddly colonies it's established in other human timelines." Joaquin's smile turned predatory. "The ascendancy of Man is all but assured now." Trevor also smiled. What was that old saying? Ah, yes: Revenge was a dish best served cold. *** Joaquin and Trevor spent the next several hours trading information. When all was said and done, the biggest thing Trevor learned was the Patriarchy's recent invasion of an Earth timeline where North, Central and South America had never been settled by Europe or China, but had remained free to develop on their own accord. Among the patchwork of nations that had developed in the Americas was a matriarchal one, and the Patriarchy had crushed it first, believing it to be a colony of the Night Skies Hotel. The assumption had been wrong, but the result was the same: Yet another timeline had been conquered by the Patriarchy. "It's been a busy six months," Trevor mused. "Yes, it has," Joaquin replied. "I assume you were just as busy on the inside as we were on the outside?" Trevor nodded and proceeded to tell Joaquin more of what he had seen and experienced as Trissa: Joaquin learned of Olympic-sized swimming pool, the casino, the expansive "adult" part of the hotel, the variety of bars and restaurants to be found and ... "That's enough, Trevor," Joaquin said impatiently. "What you describe is of peripheral interest, but what the Patriarchy needs to really know is two-fold: first, the nature and location of the hotel's power core and, second, the location where the complex's management meets for meetings." "I don't know where the management meets," Trevor replied. "Housekeepers aren't given audiences with management on a routine basis. I only heard an occasional edict from them, and tidbits of news regarding the hotel's mission." Trevor paused, dredging his memories. "But I did go into the heart of the hotel on occasion; it was part of my cleaning routine once a week or so. There was something odd about there air there." "Did you ever see anything like this?" Joaquin asked, sketching a diamond-shaped crystal on a sheet of paper. "It would have been nearly a foot long, and would have had an emerald green glow. And it would have been suspended within an energy beam of sorts." Trevor examined Joaquin's sketch, but his drawing didn't stir any of Trevor's photographic memories because he had never actually seen what Joaquin had sketched. But he was aware of other information, and proceeded to inform Joaquin of it. "From what I heard as an employee, it's a crystal, all right, but the damn thing is rooted into the bedrock beneath the hotel complex, and it towers into the air," Trevor said. He pointed at Joaquin's sketch. "Whatever intelligence the Patriarchy has received recently on the hotel's power source has been fudged, to put it politely." Trevor patted Joaquin's arm, but the man just frowned slightly as he tried to reconcile his version of the crystal with what Trevor had described. "Hey, our intelligence did get one thing right: It really must pulse with power. Perhaps that's why the air felt strange whenever I was in the heart of the hotel complex," Trevor hopefully added. The power core had to have been close to where I was while cleaning in the hotel's heart, Trevor thought. What else could affect the air like that and give me goosebumps? "Well, the Patriarchy knows it's a crystal and of some of its more exotic effects," Joaquin emphasized. "Do you really think, young operative, that this is the first time we've encountered such an exotic power source?" "What are you implying?" Joaquin smiled knowingly. "This crystal has always been the primary objective of the Patriarchy," he said. "It's the power source that enables the hotel to materialize in various timelines and also allows it to escape beyond our reach when it retreats into the dimensionless void." A slight pause. "And it's obvious you were near it, Trevor. Your description, combined with past Patriarchal experience, leads to no other conclusion." He leaned forward, staring at Trevor. "Disable or destroy this crystal, and we will be able to call in a strike force from a neighboring timeline that will obliterate this entire complex." Joaquin's blue eyes glittered with intensity. "When we succeed, Trevor, we will go down in Patriarchal history as the heroic agents who stopped the Sisterhood once and for all." "Whoa. Slow down there, Joaquin," Trevor said. He nervously lit up a long, slender Capri 120 and inhaled deeply, enjoying the minty smoke as it filled his feminine mouth. "I assume you brought something along that will make our job easier?" Joaquin coughed and waved the smoke out of his face. "Of course I did. And I really wish more than your mind would have been cleansed by the cum." He removed the gold ring from his right hand and gave it to Trevor. "It's actually a resonance device that's been calibrated to destabilize crystalline structures." "How does it work?" "You place it on the crystal and it does everything else," Joaquin explained. "It will begin to emit a high frequency pulse that will, in a short time, make the crystal ineffective by shattering it at the submolecular level." "Oooh! High tech!" Trevor cooed as he put the ring in one of the pockets in his work uniform. Joaquin smiled benignly. He was glad to see such enthusiasm from Trevor, considering the trials - the horrors of which Joaquin could scarcely imagine - the young and inexperienced, but brave, operative had been through during the last six months. Deciding to bank on Trevor's bravery, Joaquin spoke once more. "If you really want to help the Patriarchy, make sure to retrieve a core sample from the crystal once it's shattered. We might be able to grow a new crystal from the sample." Joaquin's smile grew colder. "Then we would have the ability to pierce the dimensional barrier, and who knows what sort of universes that might open to exploitation." "I will see what I can do," Trevor replied. "But no promises. I'd be happy just to see the crystal destroyed and the hotel left stranded, a ripe target for pillage and destruction." Joaquin nodded. "Your feelings are understandable, but do keep the idea in mind. We've never been able to get core samples before." Joaquin paused, then became officious. "Now I suggest, Operative Trevor, that you get back to work. If you're missed any longer, your slutty friends might get too curious for their own good." He patted his balls. "And I'm all out of the special cum that would cleanse their minds and turn them to our side." *** Somewhere deep within the hotel, Trevor passed through a final security checkpoint, docilely pushing his cleaning cart along. As fortune would have it, the environs of the power core was the last stop of today's cleaning routine, and the six women guarding the checkpoint waved him through with nary a second glance. He was a familiar face to them, but it was never lost on Trevor that these voluptuous guards always carried heavy weapons; each woman toted some sort of black energy rifle that looked like it could vaporize chunks out of solid ground, let alone soft, pliable flesh. But that wasn't all that set them apart: The guards were among a minority of women in the hotel complex who had extensive tattooing and body paint. In his six months of servitude, Trevor had yet to understand what any of that meant. Perhaps Joaquin, having far more experience with Patriarchal Intelligence than Trevor, would be able to enlighten him on the significance of the body decorations. In the meantime, I definitely do not want to draw their attention, Trevor thought. But I shouldn't worry too much. After all, I got the goods! Tits, emerald green eyes and a body to die for! I'm one of them! I'm a member of the Sisterhood! Or so they think. Trevor withdrew a small vacuum from his cart and began to clean the thick, plush carpet extending far down the corridor that, presumably, led to the power core. He turned a corner before long, and the two guards who had been admiring his firm, sexy body turned their attention elsewhere. It wasn't long before the air itself began to vibrate slightly. Trevor had to be close to the power core, and it also showed on his skin, as it prickled with familiar goosebumps. Clutching the ring secreted within his uniform, Trevor became acutely aware that the refined hallway of a hotel had transitioned into something far, far older: a tunnel carved out of solid granite, a tunnel that opened into a valley meadow where, at the exact center, a towering column of pure emerald green crystal pulsed with powerful, primordial energy. It was embedded into the ground, and was enveloped by a light haze of airborne water droplets from a nearby waterfall. Twin moons glowed overhead, and millions upon millions of stars prickled the inky sky. A thick forest ringed the meadow and hills rose in the distance. "I'm definitely not in Kansas anymore," Trevor gulped. "Joaquin was right - whatever this place is, it's much more than a mere hotel." Trevor had never been so close to the power source as he was now. In the past, he had always stopped where the hotel stopped, and had never ventured beyond into the unknown. No guards had stopped him in the past. He had always stopped himself, or, rather, Trissa had always stopped herself. Something had compelled her to stay away from the meadow, but that something was no longer in force now that Joaquin had rescued him from servitude. He stepped confidently into the vast meadow and marched across the lush grassland surrounding the crystal column. It pulsed steadily as Trevor drew near and took the ring from its hiding place within his clothing. He wondered if any other Patriarchal operatives had been this close before. Joaquin had hinted that the Patriarchy had knowledge of similar crystals from past encounters, but hadn't mentioned if those crystals had been serving as the power cores to other hotel-like complexes. "This is going to be too easy," Trevor muttered to himself as he attached the ring to the base of the crystal. "The bitches put too much faith in their ability to physically and mentally alter their victims." The ring began to hum, its frequency sharper and more painful to the ear than the deep, rhythmic thrum generated by the crystal itself. A barely audible cracking sound filled the air, and Trevor beamed. "Halt!" Trevor whirled from the crystal and ducked just as a golden bolt of energy flashed by his face. He dove to the ground and laughed maniacally. "You're too late, bitches!" Trevor glared at the odd, ghostly forms charging into the meadow from the surrounding forest. "Your precious crystal is ruined! You hear me?!" A sharp crack echoed across the meadow. *** While Trevor was busy in the heart of the hotel complex, Joaquin was equally busy checking into the aspects of the hotel Trevor had mentioned during his debriefing. Specifically, he was making his way towards the pool, memories gnawing at him. Being a senior figure within Patriarchal Intelligence, Joaquin was well aware that the Night Skies Hotel was much more than a mere facade for the creation of new sluts. He was certain it had a long- range purpose, and that line of thinking was echoed by his peers in the Patriarchy. The hotel hid a secret agenda, and Joaquin hoped that it wouldn't be necessary to destroy the complex or the forces behind its creation. If the hotel could be taken intact, the Patriarchy would have a treasure trove of data; not only would they likely be able to locate the few surviving colonies the hotel had established in various human timelines, but they would also likely uncover the mysterious grand purpose that made the women of the Night Skies Hotel so relentless in their quest. Don't fool yourself, Joaquin thought. We have never been able to take one of these places intact. We either destroy the complexes through brute military force, or the operatives are successful in disabling the power crystals, but before we can sweep in with troops, the stranded complexes initiate self- destruct sequences that blow them and everyone within and near them into dust. He sighed. I've seen a dozen complexes destroyed in my lifetime, and know of many more complexes destroyed in the centuries prior to my birth. But maybe, just maybe, this time will be different. After all, Trevor is the first operative we've ever had in a woman's body. Still lost in thought, Joaquin made his way into the pool area of the hotel. He took a poolside seat and ordered a drink. The place, as it turned out, as far more than a mere Olympic swimming pool. It was an indoor water recreation park, too. As Joaquin gazed across the cavernous room, he could see many people cavorting about on poolside decks, in various pools - the Olympic one, along with an indeterminate number of smaller pools - and riding, of all things, bumper boats. Water volleyball and water basketball were apparently quite popular, as were the water slides and water tubes. Not surprisingly, most of the people in the water park were women with emerald green eyes, generous bosoms and raven hair. Joaquin hoped that the men mixed in with the women were careful with themselves, because if they were careless, they'd never see their timeline again. At least not as men. Joaquin turned back to his laptop computer, a model that was unknown outside of his own timeline. He added to his notes, which already consisted of data gleaned from his visits to the casino, his nights in the adult part of the hotel and summaries of conversations he had had - or overheard, depending on the case - with people in the hotel complex. There was nothing really spectacular to note from these experiences, particularly after Trevor's debriefing had filled in significant holes in Patriarchal intelligence on the hotel, as he had been the first operative retrieved and cured after being "turned." But Trevor typed anyway, just to pass the time. He wrote of coming out of the casino a winner. He related how he stuffed money down dancers' skimpy clothing. He mentioned the curious conversations he had overheard in the hotel's many restaurants and bars. Lastly, he filled in details regarding the pool area. As he went back over his notes and compared them to mission notes from other operatives over the years, he noticed a pattern developing: Each hotel's layout had been somewhat similar, and each facility had been transforming men into women. Furthermore, the larger the hotel, the harder it had been to neutralize. Those hotel complexes, bar none, had always been destroyed by brute military force. Infiltration had never been 100 percent successful in any of them, and a few of the complexes had even gone down fighting. Joaquin gulped. The Night Skies Hotel was by far the largest surviving hotel complex that the Patriarchy knew of. The implication was sinister - it was possible that Joaquin was sitting in the very hotel complex that had spawned all of the smaller complexes and colonies that the Patriarchy had destroyed over the centuries. But it was also exhilarating, because if the complex could be neutralized, it would mean the end of a centuries-long hunt by the Patriarchy. Then it would just become a clean-up operation, and the Patriarchy's first enemy would take its rightful place as a mere footnote in the history books. Dammit! Joaquin thought. It's times like these I wish I had the security clearance to know the full story behind this age-old struggle! For all I could know, this is common knowledge in the Council of Champions. Or maybe I've really stumbled on something important ... Joaquin breathed deeply, calming himself. Second-guessing the Champions can get an operative killed, he thought. I must focus on the mission parameters and nothing else: "Retrieve Operative Trevor and neutralize the Night Skies Hotel using the information the operative has obtained." Everything else is a distraction. Joaquin checked his watch and fingered the medallion he wore. It was gradually darkening, which meant he didn't have long before he would have to activate the gateway leading back into his timeline. If he didn't leave by the time his medallion finished darkening, he would be stranded until the Patriarchy rescued him, and there was no guaranteed time frame on that. After all, the Patriarchy was a busy trans-timeline empire. The darkening medallion also signaled something else, but Joaquin chose not to focus on that dreadful possibility. *** While Joaquin was busy with his laptop and keeping an eye on the time, another reveler not too far from where the operative sat was edging beyond such petty concerns. The trucker had been in the hotel for days now, but he didn't particularly care. He had been declared missing by his employer, but such was life. In fact, Ferris didn't care much about the outside world anymore. After all, would anyone really miss a shipment of pallets? He didn't think so. Ferris flicked a lighter and brought the flame up to the tip of his long, slender white Capri 120. It was his fifth cigarette of the night, and its effects became apparent as a stream of creamy white rum- scented smoke flowed from his mouth: his lips finally grew red with lipstick and became fuller. Dark streaks appeared in his hair as it thickened and crawled past his narrowing shoulders. Ferris, cigarette held firmly in his pouty new mouth, brushed locks of thick, luscious dark hair out of his face with his dainty hands. Long, sexy nails erupted from the tips of his feminine fingers, and the tip of Ferris' cigarette glowed brightly as he inhaled deeply. His emerald green eyes became unfocused and distant as he removed the Capri 120 from his mouth and exhaled a thick plume of scented, milky white smoke. Ferris ... Ferri ... Ferr ... Fer ... Fern's swimming trunks grew tight as her hips flared and her buttocks swelled. The strain was too much for her trunks; they tore open at the seams and fluttered from Fern's changing body, leaving her soft, glistening female proportions exposed for the whole world to see. An inverted triangular patch of thick, dark pubic hair had already sprouted above her erect penis, heralding the sweet new fruit that would soon take root and blossom between her feminine legs. A bikini-clad waitress came along and smiled at the transforming trucker. Alexia set her tray down and proceeded to brush her full, moist lips against Fern's mouth before moving down to her nipples, where she gently suckled and pulled on them. Before long, the aerolae responded to Alexia's gentle ministrations, darkening and expanding outward. The male nipples swelled to twice their original size and grew exquisitely sensitive and prominent, jutting outward like pencil erasers. The former trucker moaned with pleasure and brought her Capri 120 back to her lips, filling her mouth and lungs with smoke. Fern released a stream of smoke into Alexia's face. "You like?" Alexia asked, inhaling her sister's smoke. "Well, so do I." She proceeded to remove her swimming suit and straddled Fern, pressing her large, firm breasts up against his chest, her nipples rubbing against her sister's. Clear, hot fluid oozed from Alexia's nipples, mixing with the same clear, hot fluid just beginning to seep from Fern's engorged, female nipples. The developing woman gasped as two barely-discernable mounds of soft flesh began to push out from beneath her erect nipples and wide, dark aerolae, developing into a pair of conical budding breasts that poked into her lover's larger tits. Fern's developing tits rounded as they matured and continued to expand outward, pushing Alexia's breasts further away from Fern's once-flat chest. The former trucker moaned again and thrust her new chest outward, the large, prominent mammaries protruding proudly from her soft, hairless and sweat-slicked chest. "You will make a fine addition to the hotel's escorts," Alexia murmured. Fern's only response was yet another sexy moan; a rivulet of sweat trickled down the deep valley between her heaving tits and slid down her smooth, tanned, belly. From there, it dripped into the inverted triangle of her thick, dark pubic hair. Below that, Fern was still connected to Alexia, her penis buried deep within the folds of her sister's pussy. But Fern's penis was already shrinking and beginning to pinken. It slipped out of Alexia's womanhood with a soft pop and drizzled the last of its semen. Fern's gonads retreated from their scrotal sac and plunged deep into her body, taking on a new form and function as egg-laden ovaries. Fern writhed with building pleasure as Alexia rubbed her moist, furry mound against her suddenly tight scrotal sac. A thin, red line spread vertically from the base of Fern's empty scrotal sac and, moments later, the sac split and began to fuse into a pair of outer labial lips. Alexia disengaged from Fern and looked on approvingly as her crevice deepened past forming inner labial lips, burrowing into the new woman. Alexia lit up a celebratory Capri 120 and blew a mouthful of herbal-scented smoke over Fern's budding new fruit. Her body shrunk several inches, and then quaked and rippled one last time as the transformation was completed. "I'm going to be such a fucker," Fern whispered in an alto-pitched voice, taking a long pull from her Capri 120. "You sure will be," Alexia crooned at her new sister. "Escorts get a lot of the action at the hotel." She smiled. "They also get to help bring many new women into the Sisterhood." Fern giggled, her head wreathed in scented smoke. A wild light danced in her sparkling emerald- green eyes. Alexia spied another man sitting not too far away and grinned in anticipation. He, too, looked ripe for the picking, just as Fern had not more than an hour ago. Alexia slipped back into her bikini and picked up her tray. Leaving Fern to orient herself, she made her way over to the man. *** "Want a cigarette with that drink?" Startled, Joaquin looked up from his computer and gazed into the lovely face of a woman. She carried an exquisite silver tray that was loaded with unopened packs of long, slender "luxury length" white cigarettes. "I shall pass on the offer, ma'am," he replied diplomatically. "You sure? We have mint, rum, spice and herbal flavors available. They've been quite popular with the men as well as the women," Alexia said. Joaquin grew suspicious and frowned. "What part of 'No' do you not understand?" he asked. It had been like this with those dancers earlier in his stay. They hadn't known when to quit. What were there names? Oh, yes. Marissa and Megan. "Well, here. Take a pack anyway, courtesy of the hotel," the woman replied, oozing friendliness. She tossed a herbal-flavored pack of "luxury length" Capri 120s, along with a lighter etched with dice, on Joaquin's table. Just then the lights dimmed and a low rumble rolled through the pool area. In the utter silence that followed, Joaquin quickly closed his laptop, pocketed the hotel's "gift," and hurriedly left the pool area. *** It took Joaquin a while to get back to his suite. It hadn't been easy, what with him having to weave around knots of confused women and men in the corridors. Some of them had grabbed at the operative, asking questions he would not answer. As if their hotel-addled minds could understand that their world was about to collapse, Joaquin thought derisively. It'd be too much for their psyches to handle if they knew the truth. Better for them to remain ignorant. Joaquin was packing the instant the door shut behind him. It only took a few minutes - he had stowed most of his belongings prior to freeing Trevor from the Sisterhood's grip. The odds of the Patriarchy taking the hotel complex intact, even with Trevor's success, had been minimal due to the likelihood of the complex self-destructing in such a scenario. Other such complexes had done it, so Joaquin had prepared in advance for a quick escape. He wasn't about to become dust if he had anything to say about it. That task completed, he unhooked the necklace from his neck and slipped the medallion from its links. Flipping its dark face over, he rubbed the back of the device and was rewarded with a single chirp. He had just sent a signal which activated the small gateway that led back to his timeline - a gateway that irised open within the trailer part of the eighteen-wheeler that had belonged to Ferris, which was still parked near the hotel complex. The same signal also alerted Patriarchal Intelligence to Joaquin's status. "You weren't going to leave without me, were you?" Joaquin turned and looked at a rather disheveled Trevor. "No. Just making proper preparations," he replied, hooking the medallion necklace around his neck. "The gateway's open now. We must hurry because our protected time in the hotel is growing short." Trevor stared at Joaquin uncertainly. "What do you mean?" "The semen analog within you isn't permanent. It's temporary, as is the protection offered to me by this medallion," Joaquin replied. "If we want to keep you permanently free of the Sisterhood's influence, we have to return to a Patriarchal timeline as soon as possible. Medical personnel will be able to stabilize the remaining analog and boost it with injections." "Gee, thanks for telling me earlier," Trevor griped. "I might have moved faster with that tidbit in mind." "And it might have made you more reckless." "Will I be able to get my body back?" Trevor suddenly asked. "I want that, too, you know. Not just my mind. My body, too." Joaquin hesitated. Finally he snapped, "We have no way of restoring your male body. You should be grateful that we found a way to restore your mind, even if it means you will have to spend the rest of your life taking drugs twice a day to maintain that mental freedom from the Sisterhood." Trevor and Joaquin didn't talk as they quickly made their way down the corridor, which was now mostly empty of people. As they neared the lobby, Trevor abruptly stopped, digging around in his housekeeping uniform. "What is it?" Joaquin asked impatiently. "It's the core sample you wanted," Trevor replied smartly, withdrawing a small chunk of emerald green crystal from a pocket. Joaquin's eyes dazzled. "You really did it!" he said excitably. "I just assumed you only had time to disable the power core! I'm so glad I was wrong." He stepped up to Trevor and held his hand out expectantly. "The Patriarchy will reward you generously, Trevor!" Trevor placed the core sample in Joaquin's outstretched hand ... and, in a blur, ripped the operative's necklace from his neck. To his credit, Joaquin didn't ask any stupid questions. His training kicked in as he simultaneously backpedaled from Trevor while reaching into his back pocket, which contained a third and final item: a weapon. He fired, and a bolt of red energy barely missed Trevor, flashing by his face. Enraged, Trevor screamed. His body began to glow and, an instant later, a whitish, ghostly form oozed from the pores of his skin and rocketed toward Joaquin, a banshee shriek momentarily stunning both of them. Trevor fell to his knees, and his bright red hair began to darken. Moments later, he looked up, wild light dancing in his emerald green eyes, his face framed by a mane of now jet-black hair. A sinister smile spread across his face as he contemplated Joaquin's medallion clutched in his right hand. Joaquin struggled to get up from the floor, where he had been tossed by the phantom after it had slammed into him. His eyes narrowed as he spied his weapon a few feet away, but he couldn't get at it - the apparition, now with a greenish tinge to it, hovered over the device. "Look who's baaack!" a high-pitched voice crooned. "Don't do it, Trevor!" Joaquin commanded. "That medallion ...," Trissa threw the medallion against the wall, and, surprisingly, it shattered. Trissa tsked, and giggled. "They just don't make them like they used to, do they, Joaquin?" Joaquin tried to hurl himself at his enemy, but he was frozen in place. He knew what was about to happen now that his protection was gone. He had imbibed of the hotel's alcohol. He had had sex with one of its employees. For the first time in his life, he felt real fear beginning to well up, but it was mixed in with angry defiance. "You bitches won't get away as easy as you think!" he roared, still unable to move. The corridor dissolved before Joaquin's eyes. An instant later, he found himself, along with Trissa, standing immobilized in some sort of moonlit meadow. The immense power core of the Night Skies Hotel glowed and pulsed nearby with primordial energy, the air vibrating slightly with its thrum. Obviously, it hadn't been damaged, let alone destroyed. *** "The Patriarchy has failed this time," a rich, feminine voice thundered. "The Champions sent the wrong men, again. This victory goes to the Sisterhood." Joaquin realized the voice had come from within the apparition that still floated nearby. He locked his eyes on it as it took the form of a young woman. Her tanned chest was protected by antiquated- looking black, green and brown leather armor studded with bits of metal. Her belly button was exposed, along with parts of her abdomen and most of her arms. A sort of short metal-studded black leather battle skirt circled her waist and ended midway down her thighs. She studied Joaquin closely, her keen emerald green eyes obvious windows into a very intelligent mind. A sword was sheathed across her back and inscribed in its hilt was the symbol that signified female sexuality and power: a circle with a line extending down from its base, cross-hatched by a single horizontal line. She also wore sturdy, yet feminine, black leather boots that came halfway up to her knees. All in all, the mysterious woman had an "outdoorsy" look to her clothing. It appeared that her natural home was in the wild, under open skies free of skyscrapers and other artificial intrusions. "Management, I presume?" Joaquin asked, suddenly weak in the knees. "Part of it. You may call me Artemis," the woman replied, an enigmatic smile playing across her full, sensuous mouth. She turned to Trissa and spoke. "You have done well, my sister ..." "I never freed Trevor from the Sisterhood?!" Joaquin interrupted. "You will know soon enough, Gemini," Artemis replied, using Joaquin's new name. She returned her attention to Trissa. "You have done well, my sister, and for that you will be promoted." Artemis gestured, and Trissa's housekeeping uniform was torn from her body by unseen forces. She felt itching spreading across parts of her body, but resisted the temptation to scratch. Before long, the itching subsided and, in its place, body paint and tattoos began to etch themselves into Trissa's skin. Intricate designs spread over her belly and wrapped around her prominent mammaries. From there the ink and paint twined outward to encompass Trissa's arms and legs. "You have earned the right to be more than a housekeeper within the Night Skies Hotel," Artemis informed Trissa. "You want to be a dancer? Do you wish to be a part of the security force? Want to be a gaming attendant? A swimming park employee? A drink mixer? The list is almost endless. You need but ask, and it shall be yours." Trissa smiled. "I want to be an emissary! That's what the tattoos and body paint signify - I am qualified to expand the reach of the Sisterhood beyond mere in-hotel transformations!" "Fascinating. You can already read and comprehend the ancient language of the Sisterhood that's inscribed into your flesh," Artemis observed. "You have potential, Trissa." With that, Trissa vanished from the meadow, a column of blue light whisking her toward a new destiny within the Sisterhood. In time, it was quite possible she would, indeed, become something much more than a mere employee of the Night Skies Hotel. Artemis' smile faded as she returned her attention to Joaquin, who was still frozen in place, trying to digest what had happened to Trissa. She gestured, and the moon-lit meadow faded from view, to be replaced by more familiar and intimate scene: a luxurious hotel suite. "It's not what you think it is," Artemis told Joaquin. "The suite isn't for our esteemed guests. It's housing for those who have joined the Sisterhood." Joaquin gulped at the implication. "You won't be alone, Gemini," Artemis added. "In fact, your roommate should be finishing her shift just about ...," a slight pause, "... now." Joaquin heard voices in the hallway outside the suite. They grew louder as they neared the suite, and a slight, smoky, aroma filled the air. Joaquin inhaled deeply - two women were just outside the suite, and the mint-scented smoky aroma wafting through the air indicated the women were, like so many of their other sisters in the hotel, smokers. "I'll see you later, Marissa!" one of the women called out as the door to the suite opened. "You're still ahead of me, but I'll catch you eventually!" Megan entered her home and closed the door. She spied Artemis as she turned around and her reaction was immediate - Megan kneeled before her goddess. "Now, now, Megan, that isn't always necessary," Artemis cooed, tousling her sister's dark hair. "I have brought you a gift: a new roommate." "What has become of Trissa?" Megan asked as she rose from her kneeling position. "She has been promoted for her role in keeping the hotel safe from meddling outsiders." Joaquin suddenly felt queasy. A lock of thick, luxurious jet-black hair fell in front of his eyes. His horror doubled as more locks of dark hair slithered past his narrowing shoulders, combining to form a thick mane of coal-dark, lustrous hair. "It looks like Gemini can't wait to be born," Artemis said, smiling devilishly at Joaquin's obvious distress. "Fuck Joaquin and help bring Gemini into the world, Megan." "With pleasure, my goddess." The dancer smiled lasciviously and slipped out of her skimpy outfit as she approached Joaquin. His clothing melted away, leaving him totally naked with long, dark hair flowing halfway down his back. Megan cupped her generous mammaries, kneading them as she examined him closely. Joaquin noticed a droplet of clear liquid oozing from each of her engorged nipples. "You will regret this!" Joaquin shouted as Megan embraced him. "The Patriarchy has smashed countless Sisterhood facilities like this, and destroyed your colonies! The Night Skies Hotel will meet a similar fate!" His rant was cut off in mid-stream as Megan locked lips with him, kissing deeply. Her pink tongue wrestled with his, and she leaned in closer, her tits brushing against Joaquin's nipples. He felt a pleasant, warm sensation spreading across his chest as the fluid leaking from Megan's nipples was smeared on and absorbed into his nipples and chest. Among the immediate effects was the loss of his chest hair and subsequent softening of the newly-exposed skin. The effect began spreading all over the operative's body. "We do not underestimate the capabilities of the Patriarchy," Artemis replied calmly. "After all, our timeline was the first one they conquered." Her gaze hardened. "They were new to traveling among the human timelines, and ours was the first truly civilized human timeline they found. But they grew to fear the power of women, and we remained na?ve to their true intentions until it was too late to save our Earth from their predation!" Megan guided Joaquin into the suite's single bedroom, and compelled him to lie down in the bed she had shared with Trissa. Knowing he was running out of time, Joaquin nevertheless kept his head and continued talking. He wanted to keep Artemis occupied here, rather than wherever it was she usually resided. "Then you should also know that the Patriarchy will come for me, just as I was sent to retrieve Trevor," he snarled. "They don't abandon their operatives." "They have to find us first," Artemis replied amiably. "And they might think twice before attempting another unorthodox rescue, considering how this mission turned out." She smiled coldly. "I bet they won't risk another senior operative like you, at any rate. Your loss will hurt the Patriarchy in more ways than one." "I will never ..." Artemis glowered. "No, you won't give up any information. But Gemini will, and it is Gemini you are transforming into. Gemini the slut. Gemini the fucker. Gemini who will gladly help the remnant of her Sisterhood survive!" A deep rumble rolled through the hotel complex as, at long last, Megan straddled Joaquin. She positioned her womanhood above his erect man-meat and swiftly lowered herself, gasping with abrupt pleasure as Joaquin's penis pushed deep into the hot, liquid depths of her pussy. Megan began to slide up and down his pole, quickly establishing an erotic rhythm. "What's ... going ... on?" Joaquin gasped. It was becoming difficult to concentrate. "It's not your problem anymore, Gemini," Artemis replied. "Your attempt to keep me occupied has failed to delay, let alone stop, the hotel's transition. After all, you know I'm not the only member of management." Joaquin's blue eyes widened and began changing into mesmerizing emerald green orbs. *** The world outside the walls of the Night Skies Hotel complex began to fade away as the mighty crystalline engine of the complex powered up for an emergency shift back into the dimensionless void. Three gigantic holes opened up in the skies near the fading hotel complex as huge trans-timeline gates irised open and expelled nine alien ships. The ovoid fighters streaked toward the hotel, spitting bolts of red energy. The murderous energy passed harmlessly through most of the now-transparent hotel, but solidity was found along the hotel's periphery - namely, the parking lots. Vehicles and fleeing guests exploded into balls of flame as the energy bolts slammed into the pavement, leaving smoking craters and buckled asphalt in their wake. The alien fighters made one last desperate pass, and another volley of energy roared harmlessly through the hotel as it blinked out of existence, leaving some of its savaged parking lots behind. The pilots vented their frustration and pounded the lots repeatedly, reducing all the vehicles and corpses- including the eighteen-wheeler containing Joaquin's now-closed personal gateway - into burning wreckage and carbonized smears. "It's time to get the hell out of here," the lead pilot transmitted to his squadron mates as they hovered over the ruins. "We didn't respond quickly enough after Joaquin failed to show up with Trevor in the prescribed amount of time." He growled. "We've become too damn complacent as of late in regards to the Sisterhood." "Take it up with the Council of Champions, flight leader," another voice responded. This transmission originated from beyond the timeline gateways. "That is, if they'll even pay attention to the opinions of a lowly flight leader." The voice of another pilot interrupted. "We've got contacts, flight leader. Two inbound native warplanes. Jet-powered, sir." The lead pilot wanted to stay and fight, but he couldn't. Orders were orders, and this timeline was not yet slated to be conquered. Probably because it had only recently been uncovered. He gave a signal, and the nine ovoid fighters rocketed straight up into the atmosphere and then shot over to the waiting gateways. As soon as the ships were safely through, the holes in the sky closed. The short battle between the Sisterhood and the Patriarchy resulted in nothing more than a few flaming parking lots in the middle of nowhere. The only witnesses were two U.S. Air Force pilots - a male and his female wing leader - in their F-35As who had a hard time believing what their instruments and eyes had shown them. UFOs had come to the middle of nowhere in New Mexico and shot the place up. *** "Uh! Uh! Uh! Uhhhh!" "That's it, Gemini. Keep cooing, you sexy slut," Megan commanded as she bounced up and down her sister-to-be's erect penis. "You have such a full, pouty mouth!" Joaquin's lips were now slick with red lipstick and had become soft and luscious. He licked his new mouth with a delicate, pink tongue and cried out, "I'm not one of you yet!" He tried to push Megan off him, his soft, feminine hands pressed deep into her bulging cleavage, but he wasn't strong enough anymore. All Joaquin succeeded in doing was making Megan more passionate - she French kissed him, only breaking the liplock when the nails on Joaquin's effeminate fingers grew a half-inch beyond his fingertips and lightly scratched her mammaries. "Oh, my. You're progressing well, Gemini," Megan cooed. She turned to her goddess. "Wouldn't you agree, Artemis?" Artemis nodded. "Gemini will make a fine addition to the hotel as a stripper. But not before she spills the beans on what Patriarchy knows about us." Megan watched as Artemis made a small gesture at Joaquin, and then vanished in a pillar of blue light. A delighted smile crossed Megan's face when she looked back at Joaquin - a "luxury length" Capri 120 cigarette now protruded erotically from between his full, sensuous lips. It was herbal- flavored. "Time for your first cigarette Gemini," Megan cooed, flicking the lighter she always kept on hand for her own habit. The flame ignited the tip of Joaquin's long, slender cigarette, but he refused to inhale. Megan frowned poutily. "It's pointless to resist. You're going to become a sexy smoker, just like me and most of the other women in the hotel." Joaquin suddenly inhaled deeply, the tip of his Capri 120 glowing brightly. Megan squeezed his penis again with her vaginal muscles, prompting another involuntary inhale. Joaquin's balls grew tight and, moments later, he sprayed the last of his semen deep into Megan. His softening penis slithered out of her pussy as it turned pink and started shrinking into a sensitive nub not even a quarter the size of its former length. "I never knew it would be so pleasurable ...," Joaquin's voice trailed off. A river of creamy white smoke burst forth from Joaquin's mouth, the herbal cigarette now held palm- up between long-nailed fingers. His emerald-green eyes grew distant and unfocused as his once- disciplined mind drifted, overwhelmed by the sex and smoke. Joaquin ... Joaqui ... Joaqu ... Joaq ... Joa ... Gemini brought the Capri 120 back to her mouth and inhaled. Smoke once again poured into her mouth and lungs as Megan repositioned herself slightly and began suckling on Gemini's flaccid nipples. Gemini writhed as warmth spread across her entire body; her waist narrowed as her hips and buttocks grew softer and rounder with new layers of feminine fat deposits. Megan locked lips with Gemini once again and then pulled away, wisps of herb-scented smoke wafting from her parted lips. "Uh, uh, uh . uhhhh." Gemini was moaning again. She cupped her aching nipples as, at long last, they swelled to twice their original size, darkened, and grew erect. The dark halos of engorged aerolaes expanded around Gemini's new nipples, and a slight swelling became evident beneath her sensitive points. Megan, still straddling Gemini, smiled in eager anticipation as her sister's bosom began developing, pushing slowly out from her hairless and sweat-slicked chest. The dancer couldn't resist gently jiggling and tickling Gemini's emerging melons, which elicited a pleasurable cry from her new roommate. Happy and relaxed, Megan lit a mint-flavored Capri 120 and took a slow, deep pull, enjoying the flavored smoke flooding into her mouth and lungs almost as much as helping Gemini emerge from the chrysalis that was Joaquin. It was during times such as this that Megan felt the most fulfilled, and her eyes danced with light. Gemini took one final pull from her Capri 120 before reaching over to an ashtray near the side of the bed and extinguishing it. She savored the silky, scented smoke and, seeking to share it with her lover, pulled Megan down and locked lips with her. Smoke billowed from the corners of their soft, sensuous mouths and Megan rubbed her wet slit against Gemini's miniature pink penis. The tiny organ responded feebly, rising a little, but the woman Joaquin had become won: The little organ became even smaller, grew hypersensitive, and was soon sheathed by a protective pink fold of skin. "Now let your slit form and sink in, Gemini," Megan cooed. "Feel the void form and deepen within you!" As if in response to Megan's entreaties, Gemini's balls retreated from her scrotal sac and pulled deep into her body, transforming into egg-heavy ovaries. Now empty, the scrotal sac tightened into two crescents and split down the middle. The newly-formed crevice deepened past inner labial lips as Gemini's outer labial lips - her former scrotal sac - became surrounded by a halo of fine, black pubic hair. The main inverted triangular mass of thick pubic hair sprouted from reddish, bare skin above Gemini's new pussy. Megan, cigarette dangling sexily from her mouth, continued rubbing her pussy against Gemini's new fruit, their hot sex fluids mixing together and smearing all over their inner thighs. Leaving her Capri 120 in the ashtray, Megan leaned down and kissed Gemini deeply, filling her sister's mouth with the last of her mint-scented cigarette smoke. The two tongue-wrestled momentarily before Gemini gasped and broke the liplock. "What is it, lover?" Megan asked. "My tits. They're leaking." Gemini cupped her prominent mammaries and looked at her dark nipples, fascinated, as a droplet of clear, hot fluid emerged from each swollen, quivering nipple. "The fluid is also now generated within your vagina," Megan replied, laughing softly. "It means you're fertile, Gemini. You're capable of transforming men into women, my sister!" Gemini was about to ask another question, but Megan hushed her. "Let's climax first, then I'll enlighten you some more." Megan and Gemini rubbed their pussies and tits together ferociously, and the heat within them grew hotter and hotter until, at last, waves of pleasure exploded from their centers and rippled outward in exquisite waves. Megan collapsed next to Gemini, and the two spent the next hour exploring each other before drifting off into a deep sleep. There were no dreams left for Gemini. *** Somewhere in the middle of nowhere in New Mexico, several teams of black-clad and heavily-armed men and women scoured the reported location of an attack by UFOs. They were only there because the witnesses to the alleged attack had been two pilots with the U.S. Air Force. In other words, people who had everything to lose if the accounts contained in their reports turned out to be false. But, as the teams quickly realized, the accounts were accurate. "Who the hell builds parking lots in the middle of nowhere?" the expedition's leader asked gruffly. "There's nothing here but a two-lane highway, cactuses and a tumbleweed or two." "A better question might be: Who the hell has energy-based weapons with which to blow up said parking lots?" the leader's second-in-command replied. She gestured at the ruptured asphalt. "No nation or group on Earth has this capability yet, other than for some of our own experimental programs." "Our superiors in the U.S. government and United Nations will not be happy to learn of this development," the expedition leader rumbled. He squinted into the sun, making out one of his subordinates waving to him in the distance. "Something isn't right here." The two expedition leaders ambled over to the soldier, who was in turn part of his own mini-team. The mini-team members, all three of them, were babbling excitedly. "Well, what is it?" the