SymbioteMaskStories

A blog for my symbiote/costume tf/masking stories. There's some incredibly explicit sexual material here, so reader discretion is advised.

[symbiotemasklover]

Alone Time

Amy can’t sleep. For two hours she'd been laying on her back, splayed on top of her freshly washed sheets while staring listlessly at the ceiling. Her arm, crooked back, was wedged underneath her head to prop it up after deciding an hour before that her pillow was too soft. She hadn’t bothered to wash up, instead throwing on a loose grey t-shirt and sweatpants as soon as she got home, letting her pixie cut blonde hair remain in shambles and still smelling like grease ‘Oh well’ she thinks ‘no reason to try and impress folks when you live alone, right.’ She can barely move thanks to her twelve hour shift – her second that week. Maddie had called out sick, and being the wallflower she was agreed to her boss’s demands to stay. It didn’t take long for him to yell at her again, this time for not leaving the top button of her work uniform undone like he always asked. She didn’t care. Fuck him! She didn’t like how customers looked at her when she did that anyways, and there was no rule saying she had to. Still, he ended up taking her tips as punishment, which she was pretty sure was illegal but who was going to believe her, right? After all he was so important and she was, well… She takes a deep breath, her chest tightening and her heart racing. It was the anxiety again, that must have been what was keeping her up. At least she thought it was anxiety. She hadn’t been to a doctor in two years. No insurance. At least she’s beautiful, everyone told her so, and that had to count for something. Enough hands had touched her ass to prove there was interest. If she were honest, though, she never felt beautiful, even when she dressed up (which wasn’t often). She remembers how long it’s been since her last date, how it’s been ages since she’d had a steady boyfriend. Even then the most she could get out of her last one was that she was “cute” whatever the fuck that means. “You’re not worth it” a voice in her head says “No one can really love you, because they can see you. They can always see you. Your lack of confidence, your weakness. To them you’re just another bimbo waiting to be taken advantage of, another sex toy – and they’re right, too.” Desperate to drown the voice, her free hand wiggles it’s way underneath the elastic hem of her pants to find, navigating downwards until her finger tips finally find her clit. She teases it for a moment, just a flick here and there, but it doesn’t do much to excite her. In fact, not much of anything excites her anymore. Except... ‘No, I shouldn’t’ she thinks ‘I have a shift in the morning and I really don’t want to have to clean the apartment again.’ Still, almost on it’s own her head tips to the right and immediately she sees it. She can’t remember putting it there – then again she can barely remember anything when it came to that thing. Sitting on the bedside table is a plain wooden mask, shabby like driftwood with two eyes and a mouth hole frozen in a perpetual scream. The only other distinguishing feature besides it’s dull green hue is the bolted bronze fixture along the median that signifies its nose. Her eyes remain listless, but she can feel her cheeks flush. It was becoming too much, her little addiction. She’d already worn it once the night before, and twice the night before that. She could still remember the salty taste on her lips from her last little dalliance. Instinctively she licks them, and feels the soft pulse of the blood rushing to her loins. It wasn’t so much the hot body it gave her, or even the outfits (though they definitely helped), it was the freedom. The freedom from consequence, the freedom from control. Whenever she walked into a room wearing that mask all eyes turned to her. She could stop any man she wanted from touching her when she didn’t want it, and at the same touch anyone she wanted – man or woman. It didn’t matter. She had that effect on people. Her fingertips reach out and touch the wood. It’s smooth – smoother than it looks, at least. The vertical grooves seem to guide her hand along it’s surface, bringing it to the chin which she pinches and pulls up, lifting the whole thing off the table in one smooth motion. “I need to be her” she tells herself, holding it at arms length above her face “just for a bit.” She lowers it, inch by inch. The inside shimmers briefly with a bright green light. “Just a bit...” Just inches away and to her surprise the mask doesn’t leap. Instead it lets her place it gently, lets her line of the eye and mouth holes so that her bottom lip just peaks through the opening. It sits there for a moment, a curved plank of rot-smelling wood laying fitted across her round face. Suddenly, inside of the mask flashes green, brighter this time, and the edges latch against the sides of her head like a vice grip. Amy gasps, the first injection of energy shooting into her eyes and mouth and surging through her body. She moans as the electric tingle travels down her limbs and out her fingertips. “Oooohh baby, give it to me” she whimpers as the second wave hits, making her muscles go rigid. She knows what’s coming and braces for it, but knows it won’t be enough. “NNNNGGGAAAHHHH!!!” she screams, her brain flaring as raw power forces it’s way into her flesh, bursting forth and wrapping her in wispy, crackling swirls of green. The wood of the mask begins to melt, muffling her cries, slithering along the sides of her face to get a better hold. She can feel the hot mush fusing it with her skin, molding to her features. A sudden spasm makes her back arch and fists clench, and in another flash of green her mind whites out. In her quickly altering consciousness the only thing that registers is the feeling of her waist shrinking and her ass and breasts ballooning to cartoonish sizes. Her shirt and sweatpants burst apart, leaving her naked for a moment before reforming into a tight, yellow, thigh-high tube dress – her real uniform. For a moment it feels like she’s almost floating in the air, but as the green energy quickly fades gravity reasserts itself and she’s dumped with an unceremonious thwump back on top of her bed. She smiles. The Mask is back, baby! “A night on the town is nice and all” she says reacquainting herself with her other “but I think we’re just gonna stay in for the night.” her hands, like spiders, tiptoe up and down along her sides “Have a bit of me time.” Her left hand worms its way under the top of her dress and starts kneading her firm, engorged breasts. Deeper and deeper they explore, the fabric pressing her palm tightly against her sensitive nipples. Her eyes roll back, and her plump, rosy red lips part, releasing a deep, sensual moan into the still night air. “More” she whimpers “I need more.” Her right hand yanks back the bottom of her dress, revealing her naked pussy glistening and sticky with arousal. She shoves her fingers into herself, immediately coating them in slimy discharge, which only makes her finger-fucking that much smoother. With her thumb she rubs furious tiny circles into her clit. The warmth rises faster than she expects, but she can’t stop now. With each wave she lets out a cry, imagining the tight embrace of the mask on her face like a lover. Her body squirms, twisting the sheets beneath her, their rustling a testament to her glorious self-love. “Fuck me, fuck me, FUCK--” Her body flails about on her bed, her shoulders and face scrunching as she feels the squeezing pulsations of her pelvis constrict her fingers still embedded deep inside of her. Her eyes squeeze shut, her lips open in a wordless scream, her toes curl, her limbs crumple, and the mask tightens rhythmically on her face. Her veins burn with the unholy fire of her sex, and for what seems like hours her whole body shudders in rapturous ecstasy. When it’s finally over and she can breath again, she lets out a throaty chuckle and lets her sweat soaked arms splay out off the sides of her bed. For the time being, she was released. “Thanks, hon” she says weakly “I needed that.” For a moment she just lies there, basking in the sweet afterglow, debating within herself whether to go again. The intoxication of the mask fades a bit, but she knows it’ll be back if she leaves it on any longer. She reaches across her face with her free hand and fumbles with where the mask ended by her ear. With a sharp tug she pulls, but instead of giving way her rubbery face just stretches like thick putty. “Shit...” She gives another tug, but the mask remains in place. Another tug she gives up, already feeling it’s noxious influence start to seep into her brain again. Her hands dance across her tight, sinewy skin and she knows she’s lost. She can’t even remember why she put it on in the first place. Still, deep inside of her fevered mind she feels the gnawing doubt. Normally after orgasm she can pull it right off with a bit of elbow grease, if not then when the sun comes up. “It isn’t really going to stay on my face until morning.” she says, her green face already flushing with heat “It has to come off eventually, right?” She barely notices her fingers slipping and squeezing back inside of her. “Righ—oooohhhhhh...”

[symbiotemasklover]

THE COSPLAYER (Part 2/2)

Amy took off her eyemask, but nothing else, sitting cross legged on the edge of her bed while Steve sat in a chair against the wall. At first the two of them just talked – about comics, about movies, whatever stupid nerdy shit came to their minds. Amy did most of the talking. Steve mostly just watched. She didn’t mind, though. After all, nobody had ever given her much attention when she talked like this before.

It was only when Amy paused for more than five seconds that Steve chimed in.

“So how long have you been doing this?” he gestured to her body.

“A few years” she said “Only really got attention recently though.”

“I can’t imagine why.”

The flattery caught her off guard, but she just shrugged her shoulders, playing it cool.

“Well what about you, Mister Parker?” she deflected “How long has...” she gestured to his body like he did to hers.

Ryan seemed embarrassed “First time, actually.” he tried to seem nonchalant, but failed “Normally I’m not really into this kind of stuff but my brother roped me into it so I thought ‘what the hell’ and...” he waved his hands towards himself.

“You like Spider-Man a lot?” she planted her chin in her upturned palm.

“Pfft...you kidding? Yeah! Watched the cartoon all the fucking time when I was a kid.”

For some reason Amy didn’t quite believe him.

“Your costume’s really good” she said, realizing she wasn’t as good at complements as he was.

Still, Ryan seemed touched by this “Thanks, you too.”

Silence again. Amy could feel the hormones flaring in her veins, surging through her brain, begging her to just go for it already. He was ready. He was willing. He’s just waiting for you...

“So why Black Cat?” Ryan said, leaning back in his chair “All the latex and masks. Are you really that big a fan of Black Cat, is like some sort of sex thing or...” Amy’s eyebrows raised and her breath came short at his forwardness. Ryan seemed to interpret that as offense “I’m so sorry” he sat up, holding his palms out apologetically “I didn’t mean--”

“No, it’s fine.” Amy smiled, perhaps to ease his conscience and not scare him away “I mean yeah, I do love Black Cat. She was, you know, kind of my idol growing up.” Amy had never really thought about this before, but it seemed right “I wasn’t exactly...the prettiest girl when I was younger” Amy’s normal, mumbly way of speaking began to slip through “so seeing her on the page was sort of like this unattainable ideal.” Amy sat up, eyes blazing, her arms gesticulating “And it wasn’t just the looks either, it was her personality her...her feistiness, her independence. She could just do whatever the fuck she wanted, take whatever she pleased. One time I told my mom I wanted to be a cat burglar when I grew up and, you know, she obviously was very supportive of my career choice.”

“Oh, of course.” Ryan said, enraptured.

“Then of course you grow up and start hating yourself, and I mean now it’s socially acceptable to go out in public and dress up in a catsuit if you’re hot enough, so just be hot and you’ve pretty much got the next best thing, right.” she was rambling, she had to wrap it up or she’d show too much of herself “And I mean it can be SO...intoxicating, just slipping into another persons skin...not having to worry about all these hang-ups and consequences normal people have, because really at the end of the day you can always take the costume off, right? You’re you, but also...not you if that make sense.”

The silence made Amy feel somewhat uncomfortable.

“Yeah, totally.” Ryan said, finally.

He wasn’t taking over, she had to find a way to tie this up...

“So yeah, maybe there is a sex thing to it” she settled back down in her chair, her voice back in her control “but...I think there’s more to it then that, it’s just...” her eyes zoned out, and a weak, mischievous smile crept into the corner of her mouth “...transgressive.”

She looked at Ryan, who now seemed completely and utterly spellbound, like the little speech she’d given had moved him so much that he couldn’t speak. Without a reaction from him, Amy’s senses fixated on the low hum of the hotel’s cheap electric ceiling lights. ‘It couldn’t have touched him that much’ she thought to herself.

She shifted in her chair, which seemed to break the spell. Ryan gave a “not bad” sort of look while nodding his head in approval.

“Wow...” he said

“Huh...yeah...” Amy took a deep breath, like she’d just finished putting on a show.

Ryan reached into a bag he brought with him and pulled out his phone. Amy’s immediate thought was that he’d open it and find a message that would force him to leave.

“Mind if I...” he held his phone out and up above him and Amy realized he was asking if he could take a picture with her. Before she could respond he got up and sat down on the edge of the bed next to her to her left.

“Uh...sure, sure” she got into position to take the picture, pressing the side of her face lightly against his.

Ryan got cozier, holding up the phone with his left hand while taking his right arm and wrapping it around Amy’s shoulders with his hand hanging down and just grazing the side of her breast. His flank pressed against hers and in an instant her heart fluttered again.

And then it happened.

Just as Ryan pressed the button and the flash went off, his stray hand lifted up, pressing Amy’s chin so that her face faced him. Before she realized what was going on, Ryan’s hand grabbed the back of her head and pressed her dumbfounded face into his and kissed her.

Hard.

With tongue.

It was invasive, shocking, absolutely wrong on every level.

Almost on instinct, Amy flailed her arms and broke away, bolting to her feet and glaring down at him. Ryan, who for a moment was still lost in la la land, glanced around before snapping out of his daze, realizing in an instant what he’d just done.

“Fuck” he said “Fuck!” he said louder I’m so fucking sorry, I...” he stood up and began walking towards the door.

‘No! Don’t let him get away with it.’ an indignant voice in her head screamed ‘That wasn’t o.k. You have to tell him. You have to tell him how wrong that was.’

Amy moved to scold him when...

‘or...’ another voice in her head said, sultry and soft like smooth melted chocolate. It’s presence felt foreign, caressing her subconscious and easing her out of her rage. This was what she ultimately wanted, right? Even if it came before she planned it. Her mind put up a feeble rebellion, but quickly gave way.

“Wait, no, it’s o.k!” she blurted just as Ryan reached for the doorknob.

Ryan stopped, frozen, then turned, an animal hunger still apparent in the way he looked at her – though he tried to hide it behind guilt. The attraction between them tugged hard, their passion simmering, ready to erupt from every one of their pores.

She couldn’t bring herself to say the words, so instead she simply nodded.

Faster than she could prepare, Ryan was on her, pressing his lips against her, snatching the back of her head greedily and holding on to it for dear life, and Amy did the same. Their mouths devoured, slobbering, seeking every last inch of each other’s mouths. Amy mewled, feeling 13 years of repression spill out of her with every breath. Ryan groaned, reciprocating.

Then he stopped, breaking off.

“You’re on the pill, right?”

His face was so close it felt like an interrogation. She scoffed “yeah, of course.” She wasn’t, but vaguely remembered the manual saying suits had built in birth control. It didn’t matter to her either way.

As Ryan moved in to resume their oral dance, Amy put one of her clawed fingers against his lip. “Mind if I put my mask back on first?”

She stepped backwards, turned at the hips and snatched at the mask sitting on the bed behind her. With practiced ease she slipped the mask on and approached Ryan again, who snatched at her hips and quickly pulled her close.

At first Amy couldn’t think of what to do other than press her mouth against his. She tried nibbling on his lower lip, which made Ryan smile. Something press against the back of her mind. At first it just whispered like before, but the more she ignored it, and the more she persisted in her way of doing things, the more it seemed to insist itself in. Almost on it’s own, her right hand dove from behind his head and to his crotch, where with kneading fingers she caressed the quickly expanding mound which was only separated from her touch by a layer of spandex.

Amy looked into Ryan’s eyes pleading and he instantly knew what she wanted. With both hands he reached behind his neck and pulled apart the velcro seam that held the back of his suit together. Amy wanted it off now, so she kneeded harder, which seemed to do the trick as Ryan seemed to speed up his undressing. Once his back seam had opened, Amy grabbed at the fabric on his shoulders and yanked down, practically tearing the costume away. Luckily it came off without a hitch beyond Ryan fumbling with the arms. As the waist and legs of the suit came down, Ryan used his thumbs to bring his grey boxer-briefs down with it, and out it popped.

Amy had seen plenty online, but never this close and in person before...it looked really fucking weird.

Ryan slipped his fingers underneath the fabric of her bodysuit along the chest window and peeled back. As Amy’s breasts came out, they bounced briefly, retaining their shape. As Ryan brought the suit off her shoulders, Amy shimmied trying to get her arms out of their sleeves, walfway there realizing she needed to pinch off the fingers of her gloves before they’d come off.

“Sorry” she muttered.

Once her hands were finally free, she yanked them out, letting the arms of the garment go inside out. ‘You’re taking too long’ she thought ‘he’s going to lose interest’. As soon as her arms were totally free the suit slipped off her upper body, held up tight and hanging on her hips, Ryan pressed her hard backwards, and within four steps pressed Amy against the wall and went in to kiss her again.

Amy’s mind drowned in a sea of lust, her lungs so filled by it she barely even noticed Ryan grabbing the suit at her waist and pulling down – just far enough to leave her open...

“Oh God...” she muttered feeling Ryan press himself against her.

“Wait, hol--” but before she could get the words out she felt something push apart her folds, wider and wider until it was unmistakable. Amy couldn’t move, her desire for it clashing with her desire to slow down.

“Ahh! AHH! Oh My God!” She couldn’t see it, but she felt it, slipping deeper and deeper inside of her. Every sensation streaming through the suit and multiplied. Her walls spread, and she could already feel the warmth building inside her abdomen.

And then it slipped out, and the feeling vanished. Before thrusting into her again, Amy felt a goopy, viscous liquid dribble against her thigh, thinking he came before realizing the strange fluid was hers. His second entry went smoother, aided by the natural lubrication. By the third it seemed effortless.

Amy felt lost, out of control, but still her bare fingers clung desperately to his back, her face pressed bracingly against his muscled shoulder. The thick, sour odor of his sweat subsumed every other scent, normally repulsive, but here something else entirely.

Something awoke inside her, pressing it’s advantage in her sex addled brain, sending electric charges through her limbs and lifting her off the body of her quickly slowing lover.

“Don’t worry sweety” she said in a voice not her own “I’m taking control now.”

Planting her palms on Ryan’s chest, she shoved him backwards. His eyes went wide, only making it two steps before tumbling with a yelp onto the matress. Wasting no time, Amy peeled off the rest of her suit and leapt onto the bed, standing over him smirking before slowly kneeling down, bringing their bodies close. It was strange, to Amy it felt like her body was on autopilot, like something outside of herself drove her – the hormones maybe?

Once on her knees she grabbed his dick, feeling it’s rough, veiny texture in her soft hands, and pulled it roughly towards her. Once aligned, she sat down slowly, inch by inch swallowing it within herself. She flexed her pelvic muscles, massaging his captive organ while Ryan, helpless, gasped and groaned beneath her in rapt satisfaction.

With every bounce Amy’s ass slapped against Ryan’s thighs in a way that sounded almost comically. Ryan tried feebly to grab at Amy’s waist, but she ignored him, grinding faster and faster in desperation. She screamed, feeling her body inch closer and closer to orgasm but not quite reaching it. Ryan’s breathing grew more labored, his chest visibly bulging with every strained heartbeat. His hands gripped the sheets, letting his masked lover do her work.

Suddenly, his eyes shot open.

“Wait! Slow down I’m gonna --” but it was too late. Even in her frenzy Amy could feel the first eruptions spilling into her. She stopped, but that didn’t keep the next wave and the next wave of ropey goop from shooting into her womb. Ryan’s face contorted, his hands leaping up to grab her waist again in primal instinct to make sure his seed got inside of her.

Amy, coming down from her dizzying haze, quickly realized her chance was slipping away.

“No! Wait!” she says adjusting herself “I have to finish!”

Without hesitation she brought one hand up and pressed it against her clit and rubbed in tiny circles. She wasn’t even looking at Ryan anymore, whose muscles at this point were already slacking. Suddenly, without even thinking, Amy felt something blossom in her abdomen, and before she even realized it she felt a quick shudder run through her body, then another one. This was it.

Lurching forward, Amy gave an ugly grunt. Another one tried to force it’s way out with the next contraction, but it got caught in her throat. Starbursts flashed in her brain, she didn’t even realize she had propped herself up on Ryan’s chest. Even with her eyes closed she could tell her arms were shuddering, just barely holding her spasming up. Tears welled up in her clenched eyes as wave after wave of chemical cocktails crashed into her brain, drowning her thoughts in ecstasy.

She couldn’t even remember tumbling off of him.

Amy could feel the leftovers of their mess as she shifted position in bed, but she didn’t care. Her whole body hummed with the clear tingle of pure satisfaction.

Touching herself, Amy laughed, loud, clear, and totally unrestrained.

“Ah! I can’t believe I just did that!” Amy said, as she threw her arms wide spread eagle, the back of her hand landing on Ryan’s chest. She let the soft breeze of the spinning ceiling fan lap lazily against her still unblemished naked skin. It seemed cliché, but she wished that she could bottle up that moment and keep it forever.

For a while, it was just the fan, the hum of the lights, and their two breaths rising and falling in sync.

“So...” Ryan said turning on his side and propping his head up “now that we’re on a familiar personal basis, could you maybe tell me what your name is?”

“I told you” she said not moving “it’s Felicia Hardy.”

“Haha, very cute.” he rolled back over onto his back.

Amy paused. Maybe he actually interested in something more.

“Amy.”

“Amy.” Ryan said wistfully “Nice name.”

Amy said nothing back. She just laid there, her commitment to her fabricated personality slipping by the second. Should she do it, she wondered. An impulse in the back of her mind urged her not to, but then again...

“Ryan” she rolled off the bed and stood up, cum still leaking down her leg “I want to show you something.”

She turned to face him, and Ryan sat up, confused but clearly intrigued.

Amy’s hands went behind her head and felt around for the seam, the tips fumbling excitedly at her smooth skin, finding it only once she pressed hard enough to pierce the suit’s binding membrane. No turning back now. She crowded her fingers into the widening gap. “Just don’t freak out o.k?”

Ryan’s eyes narrowed.

Amy could hear the grotesque liquid snap of the membrane as it parted and soon her perfect vision began to fade. The last thing she saw before things went black was the mixture of confusion, horror, and terror on Ryan’s face as her features crumbled, and her face detached.

By then Amy knew she had made a mistake.

With a snap the mask detached, and the tube that had found it’s home down Amy’s throat slid out with a liquid slurp. Her head free, she coughed and gasped for breath, as if the exertion had tired her out. She looked at Ryan, his mouth agape in abject horror.

“This is...me.” she said confidently “The real me.”

A car alarm went off in the parking lot outside. Ryan’s mouth opened and closed like a dying fish.

“Wow” Ryan said flatly “I mean I knew those suits were a thing but I didn’t know something like that was exactly budgeted for cosplayers.”

Maybe it was just the shock. Maybe he’d learn to love the real her.

“Soooo...” her voice lilted playfully “Wanna maybe...” she tried look at him lustfully, but her eyes wouldn’t focus “go again?”

“Uh” Ryan slid down against the headboard “Sure”

“Great” Amy reached for her back “Let me just get this thing off...”

“Wait, uhhh...” Amy knew what was coming and her heart sank “could you maybe keep the suit on?”

A dozen voices whispered in her mind:

‘You ugly bitch of course he doesn’t like the real you.’

‘You’re lucky he still wants to fuck you after that little stunt.’

‘Awwwww poor little unfuckable Amy!’

Ryan moved to stand ‘Maybe I should just go.” he said, seeming to sense her dismay.

“No, please stay!” Amy blurted, clutching the mask “I’ll wear the suit, see!”

She stopped short of putting it back on in hopes he’d change his mind.

“You know this isn’t something serious, right?”

The comment seemed so out of nowhere. She must seemed desperate.

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

She gripped the back of the mask, the inner tubes already primed for reinsertion. She glanced at Steve one more time, hoping beyond hope that maybe he’d change his mind, but he just watched her, observing the spectacle cautiously. She slipped the synthetic skin over her head and in an instant it clamped down. Soon her eyesight returned, and as her mouth found its place she moaned.

Looking back at Steve’s head – both heads – looked happy to see her.

“Tah-dah!” she said accompanied by mini jazz hands.

As she climbed back on top of him, she realized again that she was barely controlling her actions. It felt rote, like she could have slept through it. Her body shimmied and swayed, and her hands rubbed along her body like she was putting on some kind of show – and Steve, eyes aglow with lust, seemed to eat it up, like he’d forgotten what had happened just minutes before. She winced a bit as he slipped back inside her. It felt good, really good, and it seemed like she came again in no time at all. Once he came inside her, he got up, walked into the bathroom to wash his dick off, then put his costume back on and left.

Amy never saw him again.

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Amy had been in the shower for nearly an hour, curled up in the corner with her arms wrapped around her knees, still encased in her Felicia skin from the neck down. Her suit, wig, and mask lay on the tile floor nearby. Her eyes listlessly, exhausted of their capacity to produce tears, hung listlessly open as she watched the water spill from the faucet onto her prone body.

Seven times. That’s how many times she’d masturbated already. The constant pleasuring had made her quivering muscles weak but she didn’t care. Not anymore. Whenever she managed to get enough strength she’d go again, taking her middle and forefinger and pressing them against her clit, desperate to rub out another one to numb the pain.

Eighth times the charm…

She closed her eyes, heels slowly kicking against the tub’s plastic/fiberglass floor. There was no easing into it this time. Instead of building the pleasure up slowly she pressed her pointer and middle finger hard and ground it into her clit with furious urgency. When the first contraction came and her body lurched forward, she screamed. She wanted this, her body craved it, but every time her sleep deprived brain came down and the electric tingle faded all that was left was the shame – but not for what she just did.

She didn’t want to get up – or rather she couldn’t. It wasn’t her body, it was her lack of will that kept her down. It was warm in there, curled up in the tub. The water was both a blanket and a distraction, washing away the remnants of her indulgences and tapping her skin, keeping her thoughts away from anything except the splashes across her supple, fetal  form. All she had to do was stay there, just herself and her other all alone together without the judging eyes of the world.

Her shoulder slipped and touched a cold spot on the tub surface, causing her to wince and rouse from her stupor. She groaned, expressing her displeasure. Her hands worked their way across her belly, her fingers tracing around her abs. Her mind began wandering between her legs again, but drifted indecisively. She needed something new, something longer lasting. The orgasms weren’t enough for her, she needed more. She was too weak, she’d never be able live with herself after that little stunt.

That’s when she felt the will of the suit take hold. That’s what it was, she realized, the feeling at the back of her mind. She’d heard of suits’ AI asserting themselves over their hosts, but apparently that only happened to the weak minded, which was what she was. At this point, she practically welcomed it.

On their own her hands fumbled up to the rim of the tub, finding purchase in what little dryness was left and hauled her limp body up. The bathroom carpet was soaking, since she never bothered to pull the curtain closed. Shambling towards the mirror, her back hung hunched, bouncing with each step, filling her with a sudden awareness of the weight on her chest. The mirror was only five feet away, but it seemed like it had taken a solid minute for her to reach it. Once there she straightened up slightly, just enough to get a good look at her face.

Her jaw was quivering, eyes half open. Emotions came rushing back, and a heaving sob erupted from her throat, which quickly morphed into laughter. Brutal, cruel laughter.

She looked into the eyes in the mirror.

They weren’t her own.

“Don’t have to get into character if you’re always the character” she said, with a twisted smile.

She gave herself a bitter mock pout “Buh-bye, little Amelia” she gripped the side of the mask with both hands “buh-bye.”

Her tongue met the tube first. She teased it with her mouth, wrapping her lips around it, attempting to slide it in and out before the suit’s sensors detected it’s host donning it and forced it’s way in. After that she feverishly tugged the skin on, almost like she was trying to face fuck it back.

The back snapped closed again, and as soon as her voice returned Amy belted out a deep, guttural moan as the mask wriggled and writhed against her face in it’s quest to latch itself to her.

“YES!” she pleaded “CHANGE ME! CHANGE ME!”

In her mind she thrashed out at herself, desperate to drive whatever was left of poor Amelia Duncan from her personality forever. With her fingers she chose to baptize her rebirth with sex, rubbing as fast as she could until the searing light of sweet sweet release bathed her mind in nothingness. As far as she was concerned all boundaries between her and the suit were gone. It was a part of her now.

Her eyes opened, vision sharp and clear again. She saw her face, her beautiful, beautiful face in the mirror, and it looked back at her, it’s expression soft, loving, as if it were reuniting with a long lost lover.

“There you are” she reached out with one and stroked her reflection’s cheek “I was wondering where you were.”

This was her. This was her real skin now and she would never lose it again...and it was perfect, perfect in every way.

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In full regalia, Felicia Hardy strode onto the convention floor. All eyes snapped to her, some confused, some admiring, some immediately aroused. Her steps, rhythmic like the sway of her hips, bounced with flamboyant confidence, her face contorted in a confident smirk freed of the inadequacies of her old self.

Gliding through the booths she scanned the wares again, stopping at one with a chibi black cat drawing. She noticed the artist wasn’t looking, so without skipping a beat she plucked the print from the table, held it up to look at it, then tossed it away. She did this three more times, never getting more than a disapproving glare from a teenage girl in a hobbit costume.

With a click and a hiss, a speaker high overhead crackled to life. “Attention con-goers” a nasally man mumbled over the intercom “The cosplay contest will begin in exactly ten minutes, so be sure and make your way there – or don’t, up to you I guess.”

A few people laughed, but not her. The cosplay contest! She’d forgotten to sign up.

‘Oh well’ she thought ‘no problem.’

Felicia glided to the cordoned off area behind the stage, waiting in line with the rest. As she approached, a woman with the clipboard spotted her and immediately looked at her clipboard. Felicia put on an affect of cluelessness, prepared her lie. When the time finally came for her to check in, the woman looked over her list again, brow furrowed.

“Doesn’t look like you’re here” she said, flipping the page yet again.

“Look, I swear I signed up” Felicia said holding her hands up reassuringly “Jesus, I spent so long working on this costume I can’t just not do the contest. Isn’t there something you can do?”

Felicia gave her best puppy dog pout, and knew when the clipboard woman sighed and flipped another page what her answer would be.

“Fine” she said “but you can’t be entered for a prize, all right?”

“Thank you soooooo much” Felicia said holding her palms together in mock prayer.

Seventh in line.

Sixth in line.

Fifth in line.

When Felicia was fourth in line she craned her neck to see who was on stage. The cosplayers were coming from both sides of the stage, so she couldn’t see half of them. As she craned, her breasts grazed up against the back of a Tenth Doctor’s head, causing him to freeze up. Felicia wasn’t paying attention, though. Her attention was firmly fixed on the person flexing and posing on stage.

It was a Spider-Man, punching and kicking imaginary foes to the tune of eye of the tiger. It was corny and silly as all hell, but Felecia knew as soon as she saw him that she needed to get in on the action. Like the cat she was, she slunk and slipped between people with purposeful grace, most not noticing her passage until she’d reached the front of the line. With a deep breath and a shake of her body, she pounced on her prey, striding out onto the stage, her head held high.

Immediately the crowd whooped and hollered, thinking she was a part of the show. The few seconds the Spider-Man thought the cheers were about him came and went in a flash. He turned and noticed Felicia walking towards him and froze, which only made the crowd laugh more.

“Uhh” was all he could get out before she was on him, her palm on his pecs, her mouth planted on his mask.

Just as Spider-Man reached out to grab her shoulders, she broke off, back flipping three times before landing in a super hero stance, flipping up her hair to reveal her smirking face.

“Hello there, Spider” she said loud enough for the audience to hear.

Spider-Man was getting into it now. He walked up to her, and she rose to meet him. Putting her hands on his shoulders she began to grind against him. Her hand went down to his crotch and felt him up. The guy spasmed once, then twice – disappointing, Felicia thought, but not surprising.

“Why don’t you get yourself cleaned up, big boy?”

Ashamed, the man scurried away off stage. She didn’t know who was under the mask. She didn’t want to know. For all she knew this could have been Ryan, but that didn’t matter now. In fact she could be barely bothered to remember him. Just another fling for Black Cat, that’s all he was.

The crowd roared, hands clapping wildly with approval. A few men howled. This was all they wanted from her, what all these lonely souls like her wanted – sex and the indulgence of their fantasies, and she was going to give it to them. Felicia stood, arms spread eagle, luxuriating in the cheers of her admirers. The hollow high gnawed at her insides, driving her to stay on that stage even as the stagehands moved in to usher her off. They loved her – no they didn’t love her, they loved Felicia. But she was Felicia, so it didn’t matter. The notion that she might not be sent a wave of terror through her mind, but it soon passed, and at least with her mask on they couldn’t see the tears welling up in her eyes.

[symbiotemasklover]

THE COSPLAYER (Part 1/2)

The digital clock on the nightstand read 10am. Almost showtime. Standing naked in front of the hotel bathroom mirror, Amy held up a piece of her costume: a black slip-on eye-mask with orange lenses and pointed protrusions on the two top outer corners. She grinned, eyes closing, the heat of anticipation flaring over and over in her chest. The transformation was immanent, she had to commune with her – her other self. Shoulders rolling, hips gyrating, she imagined herself embodying the being in her minds eye: an athletic, seductive cat burglar, leaping from rooftop to rooftop in search of the perfect crime. Between her thumb and forefinger she rubbed the mask, feeling it’s shape, it’s smooth, lacquered texture. She imagined it covering her face, obscuring her features and turning her into...someone else. As the excitement built, she felt a slight, sticky dampness build down below as her thoughts turned more and more erotic. To her this is what she imagined foreplay was like, as if her other self were her lover. Then her eyes opened. It wasn’t a comic book heroine staring back at her, not even close. Instead there was just her, the same, ugly, stick-figure woman that had always been there. On her head a neck length mop of frayed, straw-like brown hair draped around her listless eyes, which were already obscured behind a big ‘ol pair of what she called “granny specs”. Those brown plastic frames pressed against her bony arched nose and massive forehead. Her mouth hung open, and within were two rows of crooked teeth framed by a masculine square jaw which jutted to create a slight under-bite. Completing the package, her scrawny frame was wrapped tight in sickly, sun-deprived paleness. The sight made her depressed, but the familiar, normal kind – and at this moment normal was precisely what she meant to escape. Stepping lightly, she made her way barefoot out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, finding the rest of her costume laid sprawled out on the bed. It wasn’t especially complicated: just a black collar, a long, wavy white wig, and a full-body black bodysuit with white fur along the calves and forearms. When assembled, the pieces made for a perfect costume replica of her favorite comic book character: Black Cat – and not just any Black Cat, either, ULTIMATE Black Cat. The ceiling light flickered. She’d been saving for her own room for months. This was the biggest con in the state after all, and she wanted to make sure the experience was perfect. She’d decided not to have roommates either, since not having a private space would have made getting into character...a bit more difficult. Dropping onto all fours she reached with one arm under her bed, and after a series of firm grunts managed to tug out a massive, black pelican case marked only with a sticker full of indecipherable technical jargon. Unlatching it, she lifted the lid carefully. She’d only looked at her new purchase a few times before, and only then just briefly. She wanted to preserve the moment. Inside, curled up in an inhumanly tight fetal position, was the naked body of an adult woman. Even in it’s cramped state the body’s beauty was abundantly clear. It’s vacant eyes shone with a startling blue, and it’s plump, maroon lips glistened tastefully in the lamplight. The skin too was flawless, and it’s thin figure was augmented by a pair of full breasts, and an ass that Amy might have described as “globular”. Even it’s hair, short, black, and immaculately styled, didn’t seem disturbed by it’s many   weeks in the case. Wasting no time, Amy wedged a hand down along it’s back and the other under its exposed arm and delicately lifted the husk out. Outside of how tightly it was stuffed, the body came out easily – lightly, even. Standing tall, gravity did the rest of the work fully unfurling the costume, and with it’s full glory visible Amy’s heartbeat quickened. Arms quaking, she tossed the body belly first onto the bed, which quickly revealed a thin, almost imperceptible line along the small of it’s back. Amy bent over and stabbed her fingers in just beneath the shoulder blades, penetrating the seam. “Come on” Amy growled, her pitiful forearm muscles tightening as she tugged at the opening. Soon the source of the lightness became apparent: it wasn’t a body at all, it was a suit. As light found its way into the opening, Amy could see synthetic flesh, goopy, bulbous, and pulsating, which she knew hid the state of the art technology that powered her authentic, custom made fully body disguise costume. Even in it’s opened form, the suit’s shape maintained itself, though the further it opened the harder it became for her to hold it open. It wanted to be closed – more-over, it wanted to be closed around her. Soon she saw the inside of the crotch area and blushed. Two ten inch long protuberances – one for her asshole, and one for her cunt – stood erect and waiting for her to accept their length into her. It was time. Shooting one knee into the air she plunged her quivering leg into the chasm, shoving it as hard as she could into the corresponding leg hole. The flesh guided her leg until finally her toes slipped into its predestined slot. Immediately she lifted her other knee and did the same, struggling to maintain balance as the first leg adjusted to it’s home. “I want to be inside of you” she mewled, her breath quivering “I want to be inside of you. I want to be inside of you. I want to be inside of you.” Eventually the leg found it’s mark, slipping neatly into it’s tight and slippery sheath. With one hand she fumbled at the front of the suit’s crotch, her fingers catching on the anatomically correct labia, while her other hand dove into it’s ass crack. The auto sensors had already directed the tubes to line up with their entry points, all she had to do was… “NNNnnnaaaaaagggghhhhhh!!!” The tubes slid in, wiggling and squirming to induce arousal for easier entry. Soon the suit’s ass and crotch was flush with her own. A tingling, which had begun with her toes, now rose along her shins – neural interfacers which blurred the line between her sense of touch and the suit’s. She was tempted to wait for it to get a bit higher, but her excitement hadn’t faded and she felt a compulsive urge to push on. The rest of the suit hung in front of her, the back having snapped closed when she released it. Like a diver she placed her palms together and dove them into the seam again, worming her way in with practiced efficiency, feeling the slime slide and slither against her arms. Palms parting, they each hunted for their corresponding sleeve, and once there used the leverage they offered to pull the hollow body up and around Amy’s. On first contact the slime felt warm against her breasts, causing her to hum involuntarily, long and hard in rapt delight. It was nerve gel after all, that’s what it was supposed to do. As her arms found their mark, all at once she passed the threshold, like a reverse birth, where her whole upper body slid into the cavity almost on it’s own. Her breasts came into contact with the inside of the suit’s pair, and as the suit’s interfacing worked up her belly she knew what was coming soon. She held one hand up, marveling at it’s perfectly manicured perfection, letting it’s fingers dance in the light as she said over and over in her head “this is yours. This is your hand, now.” Grabbing both sides of the mask laying on on her breasts, she pulled the back open and saw the tube – that delicious tube that would invade her mouth and give her it’s sumptuous voice. She almost shoved the whole thing on right then and there, but realized at the last moment that she’d forgotten to take off her glasses. As she pinched them off her eyesight immediately went to shit, not even capable of letting her see two feet in front of her. Dismissively, she tossed them somewhere in the corner of the room. Normally she’d tease the tube first, but that wasn’t her mood now. Instead she practically gobbled it down, pulling the fleshy mask up over her face,  feeling the suit’s hair graze against the side of her face. Darkness overcame her. The gooey flesh rhythmically pressed against her features as more of her head became enveloped. Further and further the phallic probe slid into her mouth, making her gag for a moment before quickly expanding and adjusting to allow her to breath. Her tongue slid into it’s corresponding slot, and almost immediately she could taste the air as her taste buds merged. Moaning deeper and louder, she heard the voice modulators begin to work their magic, flanging her voice back and forth between her petite whine and a deeper, huskier pitch. With her head now fully engulfed, she allowed the back to snap closed. Immediately she felt along where the seam would be with her fingers, finding that the bonding membrane had knit the two sides of the opening together to the point Amy couldn’t feel any gap. It was then that she knew she was at last fully inside and there was no turning back. The warm tingle of the neural interface was almost complete, flexing her arms she felt a taut, unnatural strength fill them. Her jaw opened and closed with exaggerated motions as artificial saliva filled her mouth. Her eyes opened – but they weren’t her eyes, were they? She’d almost forgotten, since now there seemed to be no indication that she was looking through a mask at all – other than the fact that her vision was now crystalline perfect. In fact her eyesight was even better than it was with glasses. The notion made her smirk. Suddenly, a series of light spasms rocked her body. “Oooohh!” she squeaked playfully. The neural-kinetics needed to adjust to her new form. She took a step, then another, each one feeling more natural than the last. Pressing her hands into the underside of her breasts, she tested them for sensation, and was met with a shock of pleasure that easily met those expectations. With a mischievous smile, she let the fingers of her right hand climb like spider’s legs down her toned stomach until -- “Ooop! Oh yeah...those nerves have interfaced.” she’d almost forgotten about her voice change. “No time for fun now, though” she winced, giving her clit one last playful pinch. Leaning over she snatched the bodysuit off the bed. As she fed her body into it she felt it’s latex/vinyl texture glide across her body, with each appendage and curve fitting her body snugly and precisely. It was, after all, made especially for this body. Glancing down she carefully squeezed her new breasts together just for the hell of it. Next was the belt – just big enough to hang loosely on her voluptuous hips without slipping. Mostly it was just for show, but since they were functional she’d decided to stuff it’s pouches with what cash she had and a few choice snacks. Not much, just enough to hold her until lunch. She’d practiced with the wig before but had never gotten it quite right, though now it seemed the suit had a way of compensating for the lack of experience with the host’s...physical actions. Holding it in front of her, locks hanging down, she flipped it up over her head and pulled it snugly into place in one clean, smooth motion. Perfect! No adjusting needed. She was supposed to put the mask on before the wig, but doing it last felt like a better capstone. Pulling it down over her forehead, she threaded her new white locks through and draped them over the sides, then delicately pinched the edges with her clawed fingertips and pulled it down over her eyes, closing them and letting her mouth hang open. Keeping her eyes closed she bounced to the bathroom, her keen memory allowing her to navigate without bumping into anything. Once she was sure the mirror was in front of her, she looked... ...and gasped. Standing there, in place of her dull, frumpy self was just about the most beautiful, confident, intelligent, sexually empowered looking person she’d ever seen. The embodiment of every adolescent ideal she’d ever held. No trace of her old self remained, and as she stood there, soaking her elfen-faced alter ego in, the creeping fingers of id slid in, overwhelming, and in it’s heat and haze she flashed her perfect teeth, now framed by those lusciously full maroon lips. Even though the lenses were orange, it was only one way, every color in sight pulsated with supernaturally saturated vibrance and vitality. Now her costume was complete, just like the website had promised: at long last she was Felicia Hardy. At long last she was the Black Cat. She leaned in, pressing a gloved palm to her pale cheek “I’m so beautiful...” she said through a mixture of laughter and tears. ‘Focus’ a voice in her head said ‘Black Cat shouldn’t cry about this!’ The voice was right. Standing straight, she popped her hip sideways and planted her palm on it, raising her chin and casting a wry smile to herself. “All right then, Ms. Hardy” she said bouncing an eyebrow “its time for you to hit the floor.” -------------------------------------------- The first few minutes in the convention building were always her favorite. In the time between cons she’d always forgetten the sensations that made a con a con, and now those things were amplified twofold. As she walked across the lobby carpet, a pair of Avatar cosplayers spotted her, lingering just a moment too long before looking away embarrassed, eyes darting, desperate for something to distract them. The first of many she hopped. The tile floor clacked under the bodysuit’s built in boots. Her heightened sense of smell picked up on even more scents: french fries, freshly printed paper, and a thick, sour haze of body odor. She took a hard whiff, indulging in it’s rankness and relishing it. She’d been to enough the conventions to know stench, but the suit made it all so much more...vivid. Following the smell up an escalator and down a few hallways, she found herself standing on a balcony overlooking the main hall. Splayed out on the floor from all to wall were aisle after aisle of booths and merchant stands. An unholy din echoed from the metal trusses that held the ceiling in place and from that ceiling dozens of florescent lights flooded the space with a dim, slightly green hue. Home sweet home. Hopping into a small line for the down escalator, a bubbly giddiness set in. It wasn’t just the suit, either, though it helped. While waiting she discreetly tested out her body, pinching herself here and there, gliding her palms over the suit just to feel the texture. The interfacers had done their work, no trace of her physical body could be found. Still she kept testing it. Perhaps because she just didn’t like standing still, or maybe she just didn’t quite trust what the website said. No refunds, though, so it didn’t matter either way. As soon as she reached the bottom she began her expedition, turning randomly wherever she could, just to find a good place to start. Within minutes, she arrived at just that that: almost a hundred professional artists and their wares now kaleidoscoped in her field of vision. The Artists Alley. She almost gaped before catching herself. ‘Perfect’ the voice in her head said ‘nothing like a little self-loathing at your lack of talent to start out your day’. Still she went on. “Nice costume!” someone belted out behind her. She glanced over her shoulder and spied a short, skinny man with rough stubble and a mop of greasy black hair gawking at her with a crooked teeth...not really her type, but a complement was a complement. “Why thank you” she said flicking back her hair and flashing a smile. She stopped at the third booth. Bending over she turned a few pages in the artists binder, pausing on a pen and watercolor pin-up drawing of Poison Ivy. She was fully aware of what her bending was doing, but she did it anyways, and while she kept her eyes fixed on the art her ears picked up on a handful of folks stopping behind her briefly before shuffling off. She could absolutely get used to this. “You’d be a good Ivy, you know.” a voice said in front of her. Amy glanced up and saw the woman manning the booth, clearly in her 40’s, and with two full sleeves of Avengers tattoos on her arms and a Captain America shield septum piercing. Her eyes hung half open and exhausted, and her smile was weak – probably the artist. She eyed Amy with the appreciation artists seem obliged to give to potential customers. Amy pinched the page corner and turned “Yeah, never been a big Batman fan.” The woman shrugged. “So?” she said, gesturing towards the binder “You think half the shit in here is stuff I actually want to do?” she crossed her arms “I’m just here to make horny neckbeards happy enough to pay me – but hey, I’m sure you know all about that.” Amy didn’t, but smiled anyways “I just don’t think it’d be a good fit for me” “What? Are you kidding?” the woman belted “With that bod you’d have folks lining up around the block.” she rubbed her thumb and forefinger together in front of Amy’s face and leaned in close “Gotta start makin’ them patreon bucks, girl!” Amy cocked an eyebrow behind the mask and glanced up with a half uncomfortable ‘are you kidding me’ look. “I don’t think I wanna do a patreon?” she said. “Why not?” the woman gestured towards Amy’s breasts “That shit ‘aint gonna last forever you know. I mean I’ll take’em if you don’t want them.” Amy thought for a moment about getting old. She couldn’t remember the manual saying anything about the suit degradation... It’s then she realized that the artist’s gaze was crawling slowly up and down her body. Amy was probably thinking too much into it, it was just a look after all. Still it made her heart flare, and she grabbed the edge of her catsuit at the breasts and tugged up a bit. “Hey” Amy pointed at a random print hanging behind the artist “could I take a look at that one?” “Sure” the woman said winking, then turning. Amy took the chance to take the artists business card. Usually she tried to take it when the artist was looking, just so they’d feel appreciated, but Amy figured that wasn’t something Felicia Hardy would do. A sudden sensation made her stomach lurch: a big, bony hand touching her lower back. Quickly and clumsily it slithered down her tailbone and then found it’s home firmly around her ass. Her breath stopped, eyes widening. She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry out for someone – anyone to help her. The hand squeezed, it’s fingers digging deep into her flesh, undulating like a sick massage. More than anything she wanted to swivel around and slap the living shit out of whoever this was right across the face, call him out for everyone to see, embarrass him – if it even was a him. She wanted them to feel every last inch of the seething shame that simmered in her chest, but she couldn’t. Black Cat would have done it, and left a mark too, but she just couldn’t bring herself to lash out. Though it seemed like ages, the hand was gone a few seconds later, but the warmth it left behind stayed for at least another minute. It felt dirty. “Here you go” the artist said laying the print down on. Amy didn’t want it anymore, but she didn’t want to be a dick about it so she picked it up and looked at it like she was really examining it. She struck a pose, putting her clawed pointer finger on her chin. “You know” she said putting it back down “I think I’m gonna have to pass.” “You sure?” the woman said, a hint of irritation in her voice. “Yeah, sorry” Amy shrugged “I just remembered I don’t have a lot of money” Amy grabbed another business card, which seemed to soothe the artists ego a bit. “Like I said” she patted the underside of her sagging boobs “Patreon.” ------------------------------------------------------------------- Amy stopped by a few more artist booths, but never for more than a few seconds each. It was all so beautiful, inspiring pangs of envy at the sheer collective skill on display. She’d never been all that good at anything, but she figured she’d start on being an artist someday. She’d bought a wacom tablet and everything. Procrastination was a bitch. Something itched at the back of her mind, something that made her twitchy, impatient. Was it the suit? Maybe she should go somewhere private and take it off for a second. As she mulled over the pros and cons, she wandered to the other side of the hall and stumbled upon the food vendors. She looked at the menu’s hanging above the counter and winced. Shit was expensive, and she wasn’t lying when she said she didn’t have much in the way of cash. Still, she figured food might ease her mind. It was still early, so the lines weren’t super long. To pass the time Amy slipped her phone out from one of her pouches, making sure not to let people see the screen or else they’d see that the background wasn’t “her.” Three people back from the counter, she felt a light tug on the wrist of her catsuit. Her stomach lurched again, but when she turned and looked down she saw a little girl staring up at her, eyes wide with wonderment, and with a big, toothy smile splayed across her face. “Are you Black Cat?” she said bouncing up and down. Amy sighed, relieved, and smiled back “Yes I am, and who might you be?” “Emily!” she belted. The girl was dressed in a long, glittery blue dress and a blonde wig trailing down along her back. “Emily?” Amy tilts her head in mock inquisitiveness “are you sure? Because I could have sworn your name was Elsa.” The little girl giggled, swaying back and forth with her hands behind her back. “Emily!” a man’s voice called from a few yards away. Amy looked up and saw a man dressed from the neck down in a classic Spider-Man costume weave his way through the crowd in their direction. He wasn’t super muscular, but the form of his toned limbs was more than accentuated by his skintight bodysuit. His uncovered head was topped with short trimmed brown hair, and a thin layer of day old stubble peppered his squared jaw. Larger than normal green eyes looked at her, sparkling in the hall’s dim florescents. Amy could see that his heart was racing at the sight of her, then realized that hers was too. “Em” he patted the girls back lightly “go ahead and sit with your parents” Emily gave one last little wave to Amy before bouncing off towards a nearby table where a tired looking thirty-something Green Lantern and Wonder Woman sat. “She’s my niece.” the Spider-Man said, eyes wandering. He reached out one hand a bit too quickly “Ryan.” Amy lifted her chin and extended her arm cautiously but controlled, wrapping her gloved fingers softly but firmly around the strange man’s hand “Pleasure to meet you, Ryan” she said bouncing her shoulders on each syllable. The two look at each other for a moment longer, before breaking off and an awkward silence falls between them where it’s clear neither of them wanted to walk away before saying something, but neither of them wants to start. “You should come sit with me” Eyan said, taking the lead and gesturing towards a nearby empty table “you know if you want. It’s cool if you don’t I just...” he smiles nervously “I just want to hang with someone other than my older brother and you seem like a nice person--” “Oh I do, do I?” Amy glanced down at the bulge in the crotch of his suit then back up to his eyes “Sure” she smiled “just let me get some food first” she winks. She didn’t know why she winked, she really was just getting food first. Once at the counter she ended up getting the chicken tenders and fries – $16, which pretty much broke the bank. Making her way through the thickening crowd she pulled her tray in close to her stomach, which meant her breasts kept almost knocking over her drink with each step. She found this more amusing than infuriating. At first she didn’t know whether the guy sitting at the table was Ryan. There were about four other Spider-Men about and this one had his mask on. Still, she decided to risk it. “So” she said sliding onto a hard plastic bench “Are you horribly disfigured under there?” The man chuckled “Sorry?” he said tilting his head. “It’s a quote” she said nervously taking a bit of a chicken strip “Ultimate Spider-Man Issue 51” she added, mouth full. “Ah” he crossed his arms in front of his chest. 10 full seconds of awkward silence followed, and if Amy was very quickly running out of chicken tenders to stuff her face with. Finally, the man broke the silence. “Jesus, I don’t know how people can wear this shit all day.” He dug his thumbs under the mask at the base of his neck and pulled up, revealing the face of Ryan, much to Amy’s relief. Amy shrugged “you get used to it” and took another bite. Throwing the mask down onto the table, Ryan planted his elbows on the table and ran his fingers through his hair, breathing long like he was catching his breath. He glanced up at Amy “Soooo...” he smiled in roguish exhaustion “you’re doing the cosplay contest, right?” Amy stiffened. She hadn’t even considered it, figured it wouldn’t be fair for the other cosplayers – though now that she thought about it who knows how many of them were wearing suits of their own. “Yeah” she said taking another bite “Haven’t signed up yet, though” “You should do that.” he said gesticulating wildly “I mean your costume is...it’s pretty damn spectacular.” “Spectacular...” she gave a wry grin. Amy heard the “shwip” of sneakers slipping on concrete. The air behind and above her gave off just the slightest hint of disturbance, brushing lightly against the nape of her neck. Almost unconsciously, she swiveled in her seat and rolled under what she quickly realized was a tray, positioning just right down on one knee, her palm turned upward, fingers spread like a waitress’s. Not a second later, the flat plastic landed dead centered, and her hand darted around, and she realized with each successive thunk that she was catching all the food as it came down – and then silence. The sudden adrenaline rush made her breath race. Smatterings of applause from the small crowd made it race even more. At first all she could think was “holy shit! This is just like Spider-Man 1!” Then she looked over at Ryan, his eyes aglow with admiration, his smile beaming. He was watching her, and he clearly liked what he saw. Nonchalantly she placed the trays on a nearby table and sat back in her not-so-ergonomic seat as if nothing had happened. Even as she started to eat again Ryan couldn’t stop gawking. “That was fucking awesome” he blurted out, clutching his head with his hands. “Well I’m glad you think so” she replied taking an aloof bite of a french fry. “What’s your name?” he asked Amy turned her shoulder towards him and in front of her face, bouncing her eyebrows playfully “Why Felicia Hardy of course.” “Right” he chuckled. Somehow Amy figured the joke didn’t land quite like she was hoping. “I think Emily really likes you.” Ryan said. “Yeah, kids dig me.” she said like it was a bag of honor. The crowd was thickening, and the con smell was quickly being replaced by one of funnel cake and chicken. Amy swallowed the last of her fries, and with nothing left to distract her she realized she now had to confront the thing that was most gnawing at her mind. Ryan, without any food to begin with, had been watching her hungrily the whole time. Was this going to be it? Amy wasn’t sure if she was ready, but she knew in her gut of guts that she wanted it. More than anything. Now was her best chance. “Soooooo…” she shrugged her shoulders indifferently, her head tilting, eyes drifting about “it’s getting pretty loud in here.” “Yeah” he said, hypnotized. Did she have to come right out and say it? “I don’t have anything to do for an hour or two” she could see him grow rigid “you want to maybe continue this conversation somewhere else? Somewhere quieter?” Amy knew he was going to say “yes” before he even said it. She smiled. He smiled back Grabbing his hand she led him away from the lunch rush crowd, weaving through the crowd as it got thinner, than thicker, than thinner again. She’d glance back, see him beaming, then smile back. The feeling of his hand wrapped around hers didn’t just feel nice, it felt right. The bemused, possibly jealous looks from other people only amplified it. She wanted this. She wanted him. Amy stepped out the sliding glass door to the skybridge leading to her hotel, and Ryan followed.

[symbiotemasklover]

A drawing I did of “Syn”, the seductive alter ego of Rachel Morgan, the main character of my story “Alien Skin.” Based partially on the design done by Geckzgo with alterations to the coloring to better match the look in my head.

After a meteor crash in the woods outside of her neighborhood, humdrum high school senior Rachel discovers a strange egg enclosed within it’s center. The next day she finds the thing has grown into a voluptuous, vicious looking alien woman - one that is hollow and perfectly sized for her body. As she begins to slip it on, she finds among the gooey, pink flesh of the inner lining protrusions meant for her mouth and...other orifices. Once enclosed within her new self she sets out to fulfill all the sinful desires she could never do as her old self, but soon the consequences of those actions begin to catch up with her in ways her super-powered, sex-crazed costume can’t protect her from.

You can read the full story on my tumblr, and sometime soon I’m thinking of adapting the story into a webcomic once my drawing skills get better.

[symbiotemasklover]

Evelyn & Eve

Every day from her little corner, Evelyn Price would watch him. For months her fevered daydreams consumed her. Hands folded on her lap, she nursed sinful fantasies of touching skin, bodies meeting, lips pressed together. Every time she saw Brandon Smith she felt as overwhelming urge to just tear off all her clothes and fuck him right then and there, but couldn’t. She wouldn’t. After all that’s not what a girl like her was supposed to do. Instead she clutched her textbook tighter against her chest, nursing her fervent crush in brooding silence. Once in a while she’d glance across the student lounge and see him chatting with another girl, laughing and smiling like she wasn’t even there.

In the eight months since she started community college Evelyn kept mostly to herself. Everyone here seemed too aggressive, and at the same time so much more sure of themselves then she was. Already that week she’d gotten a dozen comments on her dress. Apparently flower print dresses weren’t “normal college attire”. She never had a problem talking with people before now – well, at least in her youth group. She’d even taken a boy to the church dance once. All her life her parents had praised her impeccable grace and self-control. Homeschooling and a strict religious upbringing had made her the perfect model person...

...and apparently fucked her social life, too.

Tonight was going to be different, though. She’d found something the weekend before, something she knew would finally make Brandon totally and truly hers. This thing had unlocked something, something she’d once dreaded, something she’d buried deep under a mountain of guilt and shame. She’d used it every night, shutting herself in her room, pleasuring herself. Before she’d found it she’d never masturbated. She didn’t even know what masturbation was before then. Even now the memory still made her blush. Lightly she touched her own face with her fingertips, the weight of her imminent sin barely a concern.

After all, she thought, it wouldn’t really be her doing it, would it?

------------------------------------------------------------

Evelyn stood naked in front of the mirror. Until she started going to college she’d never cared much about what her body looked like. No matter how many times her parents reassured her of her beauty, the self-examinations grew more and more frequent. Her eyes darted from one inadequacy to another: her straight, shoulder-length auburn hair, her pimply looking freckles, her non-existent breasts and hips. Venturing lower she gazed long and hard at the unkempt patch of hair around her swollen, glistening slit. Cupped reverently in her hands was an ugly wooden face mask.

“O.k. Evelyn” she muttered “you can do this.”

She looked up, meeting her mirror self eye to eye. Lifting the mask up she displayed it face out against her chest. It’s expression was fixed in a tortured scream. Thick grooves ran all down its face, like it had been hewn out of moldy driftwood. A single tarnished strip of bronze, studded and stained like a rusty plaque, covered the protruding nose piece. Tilting it down she looked into the back. The inside was the same greenish-brown as the front, but as she shifted it from side to side it shimmered with an unearthly purple-green glow.

With her parents gone on the church retreat for the weekend she knew this was probably her only chance. Accompanied by her shuddering breaths, she lifted the mask slowly, inching it closer and closer towards her twitching face. With each passing second the shimmer grew brighter, pulsing with greater urgency, like it was beating in time with her heartbeat.

At about halfway up, she stopped.

“This is stupid” she said, her eyes were still fixed on the mask “I shouldn’t do this.”

What she needed to do was perfectly clear. First she was going to lay the mask down and put her clothes back on. Then she was going to go downstairs, do her homework, then maybe afterwards, if she had time, watch a bit of TV before drifting to bed – at a reasonable hour of course. Her weekend would be ordinary, just like it always was. When her parents came home on Sunday night she’d greet them with a pleasant smile, and her mom would ask “how was your weekend, Evylen?” to which she’d respond “Perfectly ordinary, mother. Perfectly ordinary in every way. Nothing exciting happened, and everything went exactly as planned.”

Evelyn paused.

In a rush of impulse, she slammed the mask against her face, and in a puff of green smoke the stiff wood shuddered to life and clamped down hard against the sides of her head. She gasped, mouth dropping. In a flash of green, she felt the first waves of the mask’s energy surge into her veins. As the mass quivered and quaked it clung tighter, like it was holding on for dear life. Evelyn closed her eyes and slowly inched a hand up towards her face, but before it could reach it, the edges of the mask exploded into thick, goopy tendrils, lashing out and clambering against the side of her head, assaulting her ears with nauseating squelch noises.

“Oh GOD!” she squeaked.

The tendrils met at the back of her head and pulled up her hair, bunching it under its mass until no trace was left. With her whole head encompassed, the tendrils fused together, forming a goopy shell around her skull. The smell of burnt tires invaded her nostrils. Evelyn opened her eyes just in time to see the grooves and nose-piece melt into the taffy-like substance assaulting her head. She looked into the mirror one final time before as a familiar warmth blossomed under her skin.

“Ahhhh….AAAHHH…..AAAAAHHHHHH!!!”

Evelyn’s back bucked and she toppled onto the floor, hitting the floor with an ungraceful thud. Spasming on the carpet her chest thrust up wildly towards the ceiling, her breasts ballooning to ridiculous proportions. Her ass and hips thrashed violently as they re-shaped and reformed.  Still the mask grew tighter, and as she moaned her voice sank from a girlish soprano to a deep, throaty alto.

“MMMmmmm YEEESSSS!!!” she gripped her breasts “OH GOD, YEEEEESSS!!!”

All at once she seized. Her whole body launched itself into the air and spun in a whirlwind of green. Evelyn belted out a guttural scream, and as fast as it began, the transformation stopped.

Landing on her back with her mouth open and panting, she squirmed, adjusting quickly to her new body. Up and down along her flank her fingers danced, rising with each pass until they finally reached her face. It felt so firm and smooth, like stretched rubber gloves. Her palms caressed her perfectly formed, bald head, rolling over to the back where she felt a thin crease running down to where her spine began. Bringing her hands out she held them in the air in front of her. Her thin, elongated fingers spun about, each one tipped vibrant maroon nails. She held one under her nose and took a long whiff.

“Strawberry” she said “that’s new.”

Snapping her fingers, a full length body mirror suddenly appeared above her in a puff of green smoke. Reflected in the glass was a taller, fuller body, breasts large and firm with a sumptuous hourglass figure. Her lithe muscles etched firmly along her limbs, and her pale skin shone softly and glistened with countless beads of sweat. It was a supermodel’s body, a combination of all the traits she imagined the perfect woman would have – and now they were hers again.

In place of her old boring head was a far more exciting one – one that was green, hairless, slightly enlarged and latex-like in its sheen. Her eyes seemed bigger too, more angular with forest green pupils replacing her formally brown ones. Her lips would have given Angelina Jolie a run for her money, and her high cheekbones seemed to accentuate every last movement her mouth made. She tested her jaw, biting the air with big, grinding chomps. Even thought the seam of the mask only came to just under her chin, no movement seemed to dislodge it. While it certainly felt like she was wearing a mask, but at the same time it felt attached to her, like it was a part of her. Stroking her cheek she felt it tighten against her face, pumping waves of buzzing pleasure through her body. With her other hand she began stroking her slit. Between her moans she smiled – Evelyn was gone.

“Mmm, Eve is back, baby.”

-----------------------------------------------------------

Eve, still naked, leaned against the wall in Brandon’s bedroom. With her arms crossed underneath her breasts she tapped her foot, glancing at the nearby clock.

9:30 – half an hour past when he was supposed to be home – at least according to his planner.

“What is taking him so long?” she groaned, stamping her feet.

The lights were out. Around the room a hundred or so unlit candles sat waiting in strategically romantic places. The bed had been transformed into something out of a cheap love hotel: red quilt, heart shaped pillows, and kitschy carvings of cherubs in the mahogany headboard. She’d already masturbated on it twice.

From out the window the crackle of tires on asphalt wafted through the air. She spun around and zipped towards the window spotting Brandon’s burgundy ford creeping up the driveway. Pulling out a pair of binoculars she crouched down at the sill, peering over, watching as the beautiful hunk of a man meandered his way up to the front door. The crunching gravel underneath his feet was like music to her ears.

“C’mon” she whispered.

For ten minutes the guy dug through his bag. To Eve, every second he didn’t produce his keys from that tacky north face sack felt like being waterboarded – or at least what she imagined waterboarding felt like. It was almost enough to make Eve leap out the window and tear the door off its hinges herself. Still, she waited, eyeing his dark brown hair, his lean, athletic body as he fumbled like a complete idiot. An adorable, sexy idiot. His grey shirt and jeans made the muscles in his arms and legs seem out of this world, especially as they lifted the pot by the porch and pinched up the spare key.

She clenched her fists and shook her shoulders “Oooooh why are you so perfect.”

Finally, he turned the lock and stepped through the front door. Eve leapt from her perch and took her position next to the door, her ear morphing to five times its size as she pressed it against the wall. She could hear him coming up the steps, then down the hall, then around the corner. The door swung open so fast she swore for a moment he was going to smack her in the face. Instead it came within two inches of her nose, conveniently blocking her from his sight. The man himself entered, and it was all Eve could do not to spring on him. Instead she let him walk to the open window, giving him a minute to get a sense that something was wrong.

“What the fuck?” he whispered.

That was her cue.

“Hello lover-boy” Eve crooned as she pushed the door away.

Brandon swiveled fast and his eyes went wide “Who the fuck are you?”

“Oh, nobody in particular” she took a step towards him, popping her hips and rolling her shoulders “Just a...secret admirer” step by step she approached until she was close enough to lean into his ear. Her breasts touched his chest ever so slightly “But you can call me Eve.”

“Why...why are you...”

“Naked?” she stepped back so he could get a good view “Well isn’t it obvious?” she bit her lower lip, posing with her hands on her hips as she slowly gyrated. Brandon stood dumbstruck. “Still nothing?” she smiled “I’ll give you a hint.” She slid her hand down her pelvic crease until her fingertips touched her clit. It was only a tickle, but with the mask on it magnified it enough to tease a little moan out of her. She looked at Brandon’s crotch and saw the fabric bulging and slowed, bringing her eyes up until they drilled right into his with erotic desperation “Get the picture?” she flashed her teeth, but still Brandon didn’t move. With a sigh, she popped her hip to one side, planted her hand on it “I want to fuck your brains out, o.k?” she said flatly.

Brandon’s eyes narrowed and pointed to his own head “your head...”

“Yes, its green, I know. It’s part of the package, sweetheart. Are you going to fuck me or not?”

The confused looking boy looked up and down her body once, slowly lingering a bit to long on her breasts. Eventually his eyes worked their way back to hers.

“O.k.”

With a snap the door slammed shut behind him and all at once, the candles burst to life. Brandon could barely take note of the redecoration before Eve lunged at him, pinning him to the door with a clumsy thud. With one hand she caressed his bulge, using the other to keep her quarry’s shoulder firmly in place. Brandon squirmed and moaned, but Eve moaned louder. She’d never touched a man’s dick before, even through fabric.

With a forceful kiss of the lips she muffled her lover’s noises, shoving her tongue deep into his mouth. It was her first kiss, and the plump lips of the mask made the sensation all the sweeter. Just the pressing of her skin to hers seemed infinity erotic. Worming her fingers underneath his hair she pulled his face in tighter. She wondered why he wasn’t grabbing her the same way, then glanced down and saw he was fumbling with the button of his jeans. Breaking off the kiss with a cartoonish smack, she tilted her head down in faux surprise, then back up at his face.

“That eager, huh?”  her chest puffed out with each exaggerated breath “Well...”

Another snap and his pants and boxers unbuttoned, unzipped, and dropped to his ankles like a ten ton weight. His fully erect dick flopped out and wiggled like a high tensile palm tree. By the way he gasped, Eve thought he might cum right then and there. At full mast it must have been seven inches long, not massive, but more than enough for her to work with. Still, she made her eyes go wide like she was impressed.

“Looks scrumptious” she said eyes trained on it, hypnotized. She looked up at him, pouting her lips “Mind if I have a taste?”

Not waiting for a reply, she lowered herself down onto her knees, licking her lips. She hesitated – oral wasn’t part of the plan. Was the mask making her do this? Every time the voice deep in her brain screamed “no, don’t do it”, the mask tightened, and those pesky thoughts instantly washed away.

After one final tightening, she shot her head forward and licked his tip. Her tongue swirled around it, winding its way down his shaft, bringing her open lips lower and lower until the whole thing was in her mouth. She didn’t close her lips, though. Instead her tongue snaked out, wrapping around his shaft and down to his balls. As it weaved between them, she glanced up with innocent, doe eyes. The face looking back at her was horrified, confused, and aroused all at the same time.

Retracting her tongue with a snap, Eve stood up crossing her arms and pouting her lips. “You don’t like it” she said indignantly.

Brandon mouthed something, but all that came out was “No...no….I….I mean….”

Even placed her index finger against his lips “Shhh” she gave him a devilish smile. “If you want to make-up for hurting my feelings” she took a step back “you’re gonna have to do a little something for me.”

“Oh...o.k.”

Eve snapped and the bed slid like lightening across the floor, moving into place underneath her ass just as she sat down. Wiggling her hips, she spread her legs apart, revealing her soaking wet womanhood for all to see.

“You wanna fuck me?” she pointed at his face “You’re gonna have to earn it.” She propped her upper body up with her palms, pushed out her chest, averted her gaze, and closed her eyes. “Go on” she gasped melodramatically “ravish me. Devour me until I’m satisfied.”

Brandon stood there, gawking at her pussy like a confused puppy.

“Eat me out ya dingus!” she barked.

“Oh! Right.”

He scrambled onto his knees, shuffling his way forward. Eve, eyes still closed, waited and waited. As the seconds passed she wondered if she’d have to reprimand him again until at last she felt the first touch of his tongue and gasped petitely.

“Oh….oh….”

The slick dance of saliva and flesh against her clit made her squirm – more than her solo efforts ever did. It wasn’t enough, though. With one hand she pressed the back of his head and ground her pelvis into his face.

“Hey” she raised an eyebrow “I can do voices, want me to do a voice?”

“Could you...” Eve pressed his face in, muffling what he said. When he came up for air again “...could you do Harley Quinn?

Harley Quinn? Was he fucking kidding?

“All right, Brandon” she said barely holding back her contempt “just for you.”

She thought back to the student lounge and that one time he watched someone play one of those Arkham games. She couldn’t recall much, but it seemed the mask filled in the rest of the gaps.

“Mmmm, Mistah B?” she grinned her voice rising to a bubbly high pitch “Oh, you don’t mind if I call you Mistah B now do ya?” Brandon’s kisses became more and more frenzied. Eve looked down, watching an actual boy eating her out, worshiping her, treating her like a goddess. She rubbed her palms against her skull in thanks, and the mask gave a slight squeeze in acknowledgment.

“Ya know” she said putting a finger to her lips “I’ve nevah...been with anyone before.” The confession caught her by surprise.

“No idea why” he said barely stopping “you’re fucking perfect.”

Eve’s heart skip a beat, and her lips curled into a smile “Aww” she placed her hand on her chest “thanks.”

Light bursts blasted in her brain. A light shudder in her abdomen and a quiver in her lips made it clear she was almost there. Quickly losing control, her mouth formed a perfect “O.” Her grinding became more erratic, and Brandon’s kisses were losing their power.

“Mmmm, time to come outta the doghouse Mistah B” she ran her fingers through her hair “How’bout we see what’ca got.”

Eve clenched her thighs around his head. Before Brandon could even realize what was happening, she rolled backwards, whipping him in a wide arch over head and down onto the mattress. Splayed on his back, Eve finished her roll and planted her crotch firmly on the dizzy man’s chest. Without skipping a beat, she reached back and wrapped her fingers firmly around his throbbing, erect penis. On her knees she shimmied backwards until she felt flesh touch the base of her spine. Another shuffle back and the tip slipped along her crack, grazing her asshole, then finally flicking into place just underneath her pussy.

“Ready?” she said through a goofy grin.

As soon as he nodded, Eve slowly lowered herself onto him. At first she just let the tip graze against her, basking in the sensation of his foreign touch. The mask tightened, and with a contraction of her lower muscles the tip slid inside and Eve’s mouth spilled open with a noiseless scream. There was no going back now. Her virginity was gone. Deeper and deeper the shaft drove its way into her, and with it her lips spread wider and wider.

“Oh God!” she gasped.

A sickening realization came to her: she didn’t know what to do now. She’d never watched porn – Catholic guilt and all. Within moments of these worries a surge of...something flooded her brain, like the mask was trying talk to with her telepathically. Almost involuntarily she pushed herself up, letting his dick slip away just a little bit. Just before it came entirely out, she dropped herself back down again. She could practically feel the veiny texture of him rub against her inner walls. It made her feel whole, having him inside of her. Over and over again she thrust her hips, watching him as he panted in rhythm with their rapturous love making.

She snapped her fingers again and a full body mirror appeared facing her. With the mask doing the heavy lifting, she took some time to admire herself. That was her. That was her body fucking Brandon Smith. She was a being of absolute power, beholden to no one. She placed one hand against her lover’s chest, and with the other gripped the underside of her right breast. She kneaded it and kneaded it, posing with her chest thrust out, putting on a show, licking her lips and giving herself the sexiest bedroom eyes the mask would let her.

Her face...her beautiful green face. Releasing her breast she guided her fingertips along the crease under her jaw. It felt seamless, like there was no separation, but she knew it only took some elbow grease and it would come right off. Absentmindedly she dug in her thumb. At first it stayed in place stubbornly like it usually did, but on the fourth tug it gave a little purchase.

As she lifted, doubts began to nibble at her mind. ‘This wasn’t her real face’ she thought as she pulled the mask more and more ‘this wasn’t her real body.’ Her eyes narrowed, like she was hypnotized. More and more as the mask came off, the falseness of everything grew apparent. This wasn’t love. This wasn’t going to make Brandon want her. ‘But this is still you’ a voice echoed in her head ‘maybe a better you, but its still you underneath.’ No matter how she reassured herself, she just couldn’t quite shake it.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Brandon said.

Eve’s eyes burst open, the spell broken, and her grip on the mask slipped. Immediately it snapped back into place with such force it almost knocked her sideways.

“OHHHH GOOODDDD!”

Her whole body puckered and her pelvis squeezed. She bellowed a throaty scream as both her hands shot up, gripping her head as the mask pumped her nervous system with enough raw, sexual energy to make her body crumple in an orgasmic heap. Her walls continually clamped together around the flesh inside of her, which tore a ugly yell from Brandon. His hips bucked and within seconds Eve felt something warm and sticky erupt into her womb. He was cumming, he was cumming inside her. Her hand shaking she reached down and grabbed his balls, trying to eke out as much of his glorious fluid as she possibly could. More and more it filled her until she could feel it oozing out through the gap between their flesh.

Within seconds Brandon slowed, and Eve slowed too, collapsing forward with a weak laugh. For those few sweet moments, her body was draped over her lover’s body. When she closed her eyes she could almost pretend they were in love.

Regaining control she stood up on the bed, letting the near unconcious boy slip quickly out of her. His goo covered appendage flopped pathetically onto a viscous, white puddle. Eve stared down at him, a sweet, contemptuous arrogance carved into her sweat covered face. With a giggle she hopped off the bed and clapped her hands twice. In an instant the candles went out and the room swirled and shifted. In place of her exquisitely chosen décor was a boring desk, a boring dresser, a boring pile of laundry, and a boring Fight Club poster hanging above a boring twin sized bed.

Brandon tried to sit up, but only managed to lift his head.

“Who the fuck are you?”

As tired as she was, Eve didn’t want to waste one last opportunity to display her body. Still, she knew she couldn’t stay long. She could already feel the magic of the mask starting to wear thin.

“It’s time for me to go love” she said, her ‘normal’ voice returning “But don’t worry, I’ll see you again REAL soon.”

In a swirl of green, she spun around and leapt for the open window, and before Brandon could even blink, she was gone.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Eve stood in the middle of the woods, the full moon shining down through the gaps in the high trees. She could feel her lover’s seed dribble out of her slit and down her thigh, sliding along the crevices of her muscles.

Never in her life had she ever felt so fulfilled. A small river hissed about twenty feet away, teasing her ears, masked by the crinkling of fall leaves shaking on the branches above her. The grass, and dirt felt heavenly beneath her bare feet. Gusts of wind whipped around her, making her all the more aware of the shape of her sexy, supermodel body. The moment was so perfect she wished she could bottle it up and keep it forever.

With every second, the glow faded. The mask felt looser, no longer squeezing her reassuringly like it usually did. Eve sighed. It had to happen sooner or later.

“Welp, looks like its time to take you off.”

Reaching behind her head she burrowed her fingernails into the seam, the material now coming apart like putty. Her eyes squeezed shut, her teeth clenched, and inch by inch the back of the mask came apart. She felt the first tufts of hair begin to pour out. The opening tore along her scalp, and once it got to her crown she felt something other than her hair spill away. The zestful energy that had fueled her sinful escapade began to leak. Her perky breasts grew lighter and lighter, accompanied by the sound of deflating balloons. Her hips popped too and fro as their girth squeezed back into itself. The mask peeled off her face like tape, feebly trying to cling to her despite her pulls. Once past her ears, she felt it try to reassert itself, and as her limbs weakened she almost thought the mask would snap back on. Throwing in every last bit of her fading strength into it, she groaned, pulling at the taffy like substance, her voice morphing and distorting until it finally settled on her normal, petite timbre.  

With one last tug, it snapped off, its separation accompanied by another puff of green smoke. The force of it launched her and the mask away from each other. Her body landed on a carpet of fall leaves with a clumsy thud, while the mask flew out out of her grasping hands and into the darkness.

Lying on her back she felt clumps of her frayed hair underneath her neck. Her whole body felt raw. Her loins were still sore and her exhaustion forced her to keep her eyes firmly closed. All her alter ego’s gusto and confidence poured out of her with every long, heaving breath.

Evelyn was back.

As tired as she was, though, she couldn’t help but smile. She’d finally had sex – and with the hottest guy in school, too. Sure she may have gone a little too far in a few places, but that wasn’t important now. What was important was that now she knew anything was possible. The limits that held her back were now gone. Sure she had to put on a mask to do it, but if that was the price she had to pay she didn’t mind.

She rubbed her thighs and realized she couldn’t feel anymore fluid. Even better, she thought. She hadn’t thought about the possibility of getting pregnant, but now she realized none of her actions would have any consequences. She was finally, truly free, and as she rolled her head back she laughed so hard and so fiendishly it scared even her.

The primal energy of the wild wood enveloped her. She touched herself, but as she rubbed the sensation seemed almost dull, like she’d spoiled her nerves so much they would never find anything pleasurable again. Suddenly she grew worried. She wondered if this was what coming down from a drug high felt like. Already she wanted to put her mask back on. She wanted to be Eve again. Suddenly she become aware of just how alone she felt out there, how exposed she was. She shivered as a whistling gust bit into her limbs. In all the excitement she never thought about how she was going to get home. She couldn’t walk through town naked, even this late at night.

“Maybe I could put in on again” she thought smiling “just for a little bit, just enough so I can get home without being seen.” Excitement blossomed in her chest. She sat up and felt around, trying the feel for that familiar wooden texture. Even with the moonlight she couldn’t see very well, so touch was all she had to go by. After the first five minutes of searching, the sinking feeling returned. It couldn’t have gone that far, she thought, could it?

“Mask?” she called out “where are you?”

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Deep beneath the river, the mask floated away. It’s anguished face twisted and twirled as the current quickly yanked it along. By the time the sun came up it had drifted into the bay, sinking deeper and deeper into its murky depths until, finally, it was gone.

[symbiotemasklover]

SYMBIOTIC LOVE - Rebecca Ch. 1

Her dad was late again. He said he would be there as early as he could, but the sun had already risen higher than the east-facing window could see. Curled up on her bed, Rebecca ran through the usual scenarios. Maybe he hit bad traffic. Maybe he didn’t want to wake her in case she slept in. Maybe he just wanted a few more hours before having to suffer his fucked up daughter again. No matter how much she tried to rationalize it, the last one always felt like the most likely.

Knuckles rapped on her cell door. “Breakfast” echoed a nasally voice. Moments later the door screeched open and in came a nurse. Cradled in her bulbous arms were a cheap, plastic tray of cheap plastic looking food.  Bringing breakfast was standard procedure on inmates’ last days – that and making sure they hadn’t killed themselves at the last minute.

“Is my dad here yet?” Rebecca muttered.

“Not yet” the fat woman said curtly, placing tray on the floor on the other side of the room.

Rebecca glared at her. No ‘good morning’, no ‘how are you feeling.’ All she ever got were the woman’s beady, little eyes judging her beneath those horn-rimmed old lady glasses.

“What a bitch” she accidentally thought out loud.

Ignoring her, the scrub wearing drone waddled out of the room, her exit accompanied by the same agonizing groan as her entrance. The noise set her teeth on edge. Everything about this place set her teeth on edge. She didn’t belong here – no, that wasn’t true. The drugs were helping, and she knew she needed safety, especially from herself.

Still, she couldn’t imagine how being around these people was doing her any good. The screams of the inmates were bad enough but the staff was somehow worse. Nothing hurts worse than people who are supposed to care about you but don’t. It wasn’t just her friend Nurse Fatty either. She’d barely even seen a doctor much less spoken to one. Everyone here from the receptionist to the fucking janitor seemed uncaring, unloving, uninterested, exactly the kind of folks every budding schizo needed.

Once the footsteps had disappeared down the hall Rebecca swiveled her body until she sat on the edge of the bed. Absentmindedly she looked out the window. The landscape hadn’t changed, still the same ugly, brown wall of brick’n mortar – the wallpaper of her life. Her attention fixated on an old black man pushing a shopping cart filled with overstuffed trash bags. Probably a drug addict she thought to herself.

It took her a whole five minutes before she remembered her breakfast. Next to her quickly cooling toast and apple sauce was a small disposable plastic cup with half a dozen pills of various sizes and colors. They trusted her to take her own medication. Maybe they did like her after all.

Pushing herself off the bed with a grunt Rebecca cleared the space between her and the tray in a single step. Quickly bending over she snatched the stale bread and greedily shoved it into her mouth. She realized a moment too late that she shouldn’t have stood up so fast. Already she could feel the blood rushing from her head. A half second later her brain was plunged into a dizzy whirlwind of blurring light. Bracing against the wall and measuring her breaths she waited for her blood flow return to normal. One second. Two seconds. Three...

Her chest grew tight. Along her left arm a slight tingle made her muscles feel weak. The anxiety was coming back, she needed to get outside quickly or this place was going to drive her madder than she already was. Closing her eyes she takes another series of deep breaths, just like her therapist had once told her. She then remembered how he had touched her lap that one time and the symptoms came surging back.

With one more deep breath she looked back up at the pills, now resentful that the staff trusted her. For the first four days they practically shoved them down her throat. They must have felt that they’d tamed her. She imagined them gloating: at long last they’d broken Beckie, the eternal problem child. Her anger seethed, like a rolling boil overflowing inside her chest. She wanted to grab those pills and shove them down their throats and see how they liked it.

With a savage growl she balled her right hand into a fist and threw it at the concrete wall, stopping herself just before it hit it. She wasn’t stupid. If they saw she had a wound on her hand they would need to evaluate her again. That’s another two days at least. Another wave of dizziness hit her, smothering her anger and sending her mind hurtling back to earth. Tears formed at the corners of her eyes. She really was just vindictive child.

Taking advantage of her lucid moment, she snatched the plastic cup, swigged the capsules into her mouth, grabbed the matching cup of water and gulped it all down in one go. No matter how fast she did it the bitter aftertaste made her mouth feel dry. She gagged, but she managed to keep the bile down this time.

With a deep breath she sighed and plopped down on the edge of her bed. Within seconds the regret started seeping in. The tears that had formed were now dripping down her face in salty streaks. This was always her least favorite part – the waiting game while the chemicals invaded her bloodstream. Soon they would make their way to her brain where they would do their job and dull everything. Her happiness, her sadness, her anger, all of it would vanish in about ten minutes. She mentally clutched on to her quickly fading emotions as hard as she could but it never did any good. She wanted this to happen, she told herself. This would make her better.

As she felt the first numbing fingers creep into her thoughts, the door screeched opened again.

“Rebecca?” the woman in the doorway smiled.

It was a different nurse – one of the less bitchy ones.

“Yep” Rebecca pushed herself onto her feet “that’s me.” It didn’t even need to be said. Her dad was here. They always sent the nicer ones when your parents came. In the woman’s arms was a neatly folded bundle with a gallon sized plastic bag of odds and ends sitting on top. It took a moment in her increasingly druggy daze to realize that these were her things.

The nurse closed the door behind her and held out the pile. Rebecca grabbed it, placing it on the bed and quickly undressed with rehearsed efficiency. The nurse’s eyes were glued on her, completely neutral, unjudging. Having an audience for this was never comfortable, but as she clipped her bra together and slid her faded batman shirt over her head she thought to herself how thankful she was that it was a woman this time. Her jeans seemed looser as she wiggled them over her hips, realizing that the hospital's strict diet had probably cut a few pounds off her already narrow waist.

She unzipped the Ziploc bag and rummaged through. There wasn’t much, just some cash, her phone, a pack of cigarettes, a couple receipts from Target. Once those were stashed away in her pocket, she took a deep breath and nodded to the nurse. Stepping aside, the uniformed woman opened the door and offered and deferential gesture, indicating that Rebecca could go first. If Rebecca could feel anything, she might have even been touched.

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The trip down the hallway was always weird. No matter how much she got used to the place or started to feel comfortable, leaving always felt like she was making an escape. She had to resist the temptation to look into the cells she passed. She made that mistake once. Nothing kills curiosity faster than a man twice your age making direct eye contact while furiously masturbating.

They approached the lobby door. The nurse waved at the guard in the booth and he waved back, leaning over and pressing an unseen button before he’d even dropped his hand. Over the intercom came an angry sounding buzz and the door unlatched with a heavy, metallic KA-THUNK. The nurse pulled the door open and let Rebecca step through first.

She wasn’t even on the other side before she saw her dad.

He sat about ten feet to her right, eyes glued to an old tube TV hanging from the corner and what looked like a soap opera. It took him a moment to realize what the opening of the door probably meant. As soon as she came into his field of vision he stood like a soldier coming to attention. He beamed, though to Rebecca it seemed forced. All his smiles seemed a bit forced lately. His salt and pepper hair and thin eyeglasses would have made him look distinguished if it weren’t for his slouched posture and the bags under his eyes.

“Hey Beckie” his smile went up and down like he was going to say something else but decided not to.

Rebecca smiled back. “Hey dad” she gave a little wave.

No small talk. It never seemed appropriate. Rebecca gave a hard sigh, trying to force her dad to make the first move. It must have worked because within seconds he began to look around impatiently.

“We good to go, now?” his gaze settled on the nurse.

“If you grabbed her medication and signed her out” The nurse nodded towards Rebecca “we’re all good.”

“Then we’re good” his smile grew wider and he turned back to Rebecca “Ready to go?”

It was a stupid question, one he never got an answer to, but he always asked it anyways. Plunging her hands into her pocket she began to make her way towards the front door. Her dad took the cue and moved in front of her, taking the lead.

About halfway across the lobby Rebecca turned and walked backwards, facing the nurse. “You know, I’d say see ya later, but...” she tilted her head and shrugged. The nurse’s expression didn’t change, but Rebecca figured she understood.

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The chilly October air hit her like a shovel to the face. The hospital was never heated enough, but two weeks in a cell made any change in the air orgasmic. The light breeze tickled what was left of her dulled emotions, enough to make her hopeful for what remained of her first day of freedom – or at least as hopeful as the drugs let her.

She spotted her Dad’s beat-up grey Cadillac parked underneath a dead tree. As they slipped in, her nostrils absorbed the musty smell of the soda-stained upholstery with relish. It was so unsanitary she loved it. Bouncing on its rickety axis the vehicle maneuvered its way out, and as it pulled onto the main road Rebecca rolled down her window and rested her elbow on the sill. Leaning her head out she felt the wind whip wildly over her scalp and shivered. An awareness of her short her hair suddenly hit her. She wanted to grow it out, feel her hair billow in the breeze, but with how often her...episodes happened whatever progress she’d make would be unceremoniously lopped off, so she just kept it short to save them the trouble.

Approaching a downtown intersection, her Dad shifted right. Rebecca glanced up and saw a garish neon sign resting on top of a pair of stumpy metal poles. Its copper plating had turned green decades ago, and in the noon-day sun she could barely make out the cursive tube lettering of “Brock’s Burgers”. The building had a 70’s diner kind of vibe, it’s aquamarine green facade, dirty windows, and tin plating rusted and glistening. Two other cars sat in the small corner lot – probably the lunch rush.

Every time he Dad picked her up from the loony bin they would go and get some Burgers for lunch. At first it made her feel special, but in the years since her first visit her taste for shitty burgers and limp over-salted fries had dropped considerably. It was tradition, though, and the only real link with her Dad she had left.

Suck it up, she thought, it’ll only be an hour.

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They saw Eddie, the busboy, wiping down the counter as they entered. He stopped, his brown eyes peeking out from underneath his mop of curly black hair. It took her until three years ago to figure out he had a crush on her. At first whenever he’d ask her if she wanted him to get her anything special she just thought he was being nice. When she finally put two and two together, all those nice gestures suddenly became creepy in hindsight. Rebecca figured he probably found her mental illness “sexy” or something. No, that wasn’t fair, he never did anything wrong. Still, she always hoped that he wouldn’t be there. Rebecca ventured a sidelong glance at him as they made their way to the corner booth. The longer she looked the more his hint of a gentle smile became apparent. She might have found it cute if she didn’t also notice him adjusting the bulge in his khakis.

The maroon upholstery that covered one of the seats had a huge gash in it. Pushing its way out were tufts of pale yellow foam which Rebecca was careful to avoid. There wasn’t any particular reason she avoided it, it just seemed like the correct thing to do. She did that a lot, little things of no consequence because they felt right. She never told anyone about this. She was afraid someone might try and diagnose her with OCD, and her list was already long enough.

Nuzzling herself into the corner, Rebecca glowered, looking sidelong out the window to avoid eye contact with her dad – and thus avoid conversation.

“What can I get for you two today?”

Her heart dropped. It was Eddie. Why did he have to be their server, she thought. Suddenly she hated him. She wanted him to go away.

“I’ll have the barbecue burger with no relish please” her dad said cheerfully. Seconds past. She didn’t want to talk. Why was she waiting? “Beckie, why don’t you tell him what you want?”

There it was, the patronizing. “I’ll just have chicken strips or something” she muttered.

Eddie waited a moment, like he was expecting more. What did he want from her?

“And your drink?” he finally said.

“Oh, just two waters please” her dad interjected.

Rebecca glanced at him, surprised at his stepping in. She turned to look at him and regretted it instantly since Eddie now fell into her field of vision. He gave a little wave, which Beckie now felt obligated to give back. For five more awkward seconds he stood there looking at both of them before realizing he had nothing else to ask and shuffled away.

Slipping her phone out of her pocket Rebecca pulled up Facebook – four notifications, two of them reminders about her friend’s birthdays. That was a record low for her, nine was her record high and that was from the suicide attempt.

“He seems nice” her dad said.

She glared at him “Can we not talk about this” she said “besides dudes a fucking creeper.”

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It was about five minutes before the food came. Her dad began eating immediately. Rebecca toyed around with a chicken strip before taking a small nibble. She was hungry, but thought that maybe pouting and seeming distant might send a clue to her dad about how she felt – or didn’t feel.

“Jenny stopped by the other day” her dad faux offhandedly.

Why did he have to start talking when they were eating?

“I don’t really care about Jenny” she bit a huge chunk of chicken off and swallowed “she’s kind of a bitch anyways.”

Her dad grimaced, scratching his temple before grabbing his drink again. “She brought a card” he said taking a sip.

How was she supposed to respond to that? She figured he was expecting her to say something nice. Why was he doing this to her? Couldn’t he just leave her alone? She needed to get away from him.

“Can I go outside for a minute?” she said.

She could see the hesitation in his eyes “Sure sweetie” he said as if he understood.

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Little rocks crackled as she ground her heel into the loose pavement. She’d been sitting on the curb staring at it for about three minutes now. The roar of nearby traffic drowned out every other noise. When someone shoved the door behind her open she turned, half expecting her dad to be storming out to tell her they were leaving. Instead it was a younger, bulkier man who only glanced at her for a split second before looking back towards his pick-up truck parked on the far side of the lot.

“No dad” she mouthed to herself as she turned back forward “I don’t care if you’re trying to guilt me into seeing middle school friends again. Fuck you, I don’t have to do anything you say because I’m an adult and can do whatever I want” she cracked a grin, relishing the little moments of petulance she allowed herself. “Oooohhh, you wanna introduce me to another one of your friend’s fuckboy kids? Yeah, fat chance of that ever happening again.”

She almost wanted to turn around and storm back in just to repeat it straight to his face – until she realized how stupid and out of nowhere it would sound. She had to be careful. Once she heard one of the less savory nurses say that some parents would just throw their kids in the ward for talking back too much. She couldn’t imagine her dad doing that...maybe her mom, but not her dad.

Crossing her arms over her knees she nestled her head between them. She thought about smoking, but couldn’t risk her dad coming out and seeing her. He still didn’t know yet. Her sideways head pointed at the large storm drain carved into the curb. She wondered what would happen if she got stuck in there. Eyes focusing she gazed as far in as she could. There was a point along the side where none of the sunlight seemed to reach. For some reason it was fascinating to her. It seemed infinite, like a pool of starless night sky. She could lose herself in it forever...

...and then it moved.

Through the grating, a single tendril of it lurched out, hanging onto one of the metal bars for dear life. The shadow below detached itself from the rest of the wall and slurped up to clasp on the rest of the grate. Rebecca bolted to her feet, her chest tightening, her breathes staggered. What the fuck was this thing? The shadow froze at her sudden motion. Rebecca tried rationalizing to herself that she was just hallucinating again, that whatever this thing was it couldn’t hurt her because it was just in her head. It couldn’t be a hallucination, though, the drugs were supposed to stop those.

The amorphous blob slipped through the drain at multiple points, clambering up until it rested on top of the metal bars. Towards the middle it began to bunch, sending out what looked like some kind of probe. It seemed lost, like it was searching for something. Maybe it was just the drugs, but after the initial shock it was hard for Rebecca to feel anything but vague curiosity towards it. Kneeling down, she slowly extended her hand, closer and closer until it was within inches of the snake-like mass.

Suddenly, it seemed to register her presence, and all at once the whole thing seized. The tip of the tendril turned to face her, rearing back like a cobra. It’s bobbing seemed almost hypnotic. Rebecca brought her fingers closer, but now the thing’s movements matched hers.

“Hello?” she whispered.

The puddle responded, contracting and vibrating at every syllable. To Rebecca it almost looked like it was having an orgasm. It’s smooth, glossy surface glistened in the sunlight like rubber. She wondered what it felt like. A sudden desire to have it touch her skin crept into her foggy brain. It was strange, if she wasn’t crazy she might have thought she felt some sort of connection with the stuff. She smiled, her hand hovering within an inch of the strange, strange creature, seconds away from having all of her questions answered when –

“Beckie?”

Jerking her hand back, she swiveled around. Leaning out the door, her dad eyed her with sweet, paternal concern.

“Your food’s getting cold, wanna come back inside?”

“Hey dad, check this out!” she turned to look at her new friend and her smile dropped. The little puddle was gone.

“Whatcha lookin’ at?” her dad said stepping out.

Great, she thought, if he didn’t think I was completely gone before, he does now.

“No it was...nothing, I was just thinking.” She smiled. He didn’t seem to buy it.

“You sure you don’t want to finish your food?”

“I’m not hungry”

His eyes narrowed and his lips tightened. “All right” he opened the door “I’ll just pay our bill and we can head out.”

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As they pulled out of the parking space, Heather rolled down the window and crossed her arms over the sill, resting her head on them like she’d done before. With each passing second, Brock’s Burgers slipped further and further away. Good riddance, she thought to herself, a fitting end for a shitty morning.

The car came to a stop as a column of traffic zoomed by. Out of the corner of her eye Rebecca spied something moving quickly behind the car. She did a double take, but missed it before she could see what it was. Maybe it was a rat? There were a lot of those around here.

It was then that Rebecca realized something and her eyes went wide – her brain felt clearer. It normally took twelve hours for her to start feeling again after taking the medication, but it had only been one. She almost sat back up to tell her dad, but decided against it. What had caused it? Was her body resisting the medication? She felt frightened at the idea, but that fear soon was overridden by an overwhelming sense of relief. Her dad didn’t understand. All he saw were the benefits, never the drawbacks. She knew he meant well, but she never felt like she could tell him anything. At least that puddle had listened to her.

Jesus, she really was losing it.

[symbiotemasklover]

SUMMER OF THE SYMBIOTE [Commission]

Summer pressed her hand against the side of her neck and winced. For two weeks now it felt like she’d whacked her funny bone but instead of her elbow it was her brain stem. This couldn’t be normal. Was it permanent? Should she go to the doctor? Maybe she could sue Spencer for it? She lied back, hoping that some more neck rest would help her think clearer. Above her the ceiling fan spun lazily, circulating the remnants of week old weed stench all around the room.

Growing up she’d done everything right. Every choice she made was carefully curated by the myriad of authority figures in her life. She even got that stupid biology degree her parents wanted her to get. Theoretically, everything should be peachy keen. Why then was she living in a shitty one bedroom apartment at 28 with a boyfriend who hit her? That wasn’t supposed to happen to her. That was always something that happened to other people.

The reality was that that she had no money, no health insurance, and no friends. She could always go back to her parents, but doubted they’d be willing to foot the bill for something like this. She imagined their smug, conceited faces beaming down at her droning on about how freelance modelling in fact wasn’t a viable career option - as if she hadn’t found that out already. They’d smile and pat her shoulder and tell her of all the wonderful office jobs their friends could line up for her. The thought made her pride flare inside her chest - or was that just the anxiety? She couldn’t tell anymore.

It was Spencer, she realized. Spencer was the source of her problems. She heard his stupid voice in her head, despite her best attempts to block it out:

“You shouldn’t listen to them” he would say “follow your passions, girl! You don’t have to listen to anything but your own heart.” Nice words. She wondered if he got them out of a fortune cookie.

Once things went south she wondered if all that crap was just a ploy to fuck her everyday instead of just when her parents weren’t home, but after that dried up his motives became a mystery. Maybe he just liked keeping her around - which she dismissed immediately. You don’t hit things you like. Maybe he felt responsible for her, like she was his little pet, the stray that had nowhere to go. That idea just made her smothered pride blaze even brighter.

Letting her breathing slow she became aware of all the sweat building under and around her tank top. It was hot, too hot to go outside. Her phone said 98, but in the bedroom it felt more like 110. Maybe once nighttime came maybe she’d be able to emerge from her stain ridden cave, but for now she was at least content to listen to the bedside clock tick for another hour or so. Gaze drifting towards the window her eyes traced the fractures up the pane and along the rotting frame. Her neck ached again.

Outside and three floors down a car door slammed. Vaguely Summer heard Spencer’s muffled voice below spew profanities. That wasn’t a good sign - he always talked to himself when he was upset. Bracing herself, Summer looked up at the ceiling again, soaking in her last moments of alone time. Usually it took him about twenty-five seconds to reach the apartment from the street, but before she’d counted to fifteen she heard the heavy footfalls come down the hallway. On eighteen the front door opened and then closed again. A flurry of clicks and clacks meant he was locking the door.

“What a paranoid freak” she thought.

Moments later the bedroom door opened and in came Spencer, greasy haired and stubble ridden, clutching a silver briefcase against his stained white undershirt. Striding over to the dresser, completely bypassing Summer, he swept aside some DVDs and laid his closely guarded prize on the now vacant top, back facing her.

Summer felt indignant, but not surprised.

“Spence, my neck hurts” she said as he undid the latches on the case. Lifting the lid he froze. She couldn’t see what was inside but noticed that Spencer was shaking. “Spence?”

He glanced over his shoulder “I mean whataya want me to do about it?” his gaze returned to the contents of the case.

“You caused it you fucking asshole” she mumbled and instantly regretted.

Spencer looked over his shoulder so fast she thought he was going to swivel around and hit her again. He exhaled in a way that almost sounded like he was laughing “I said I was sorry” he waved his hand dismissively, and turned to face the case again back around again “I dunno what else you fucking want from me”

Summer sat up, swinging her body around so that she sat on the edge of the bed “Can you at least get me something from McDonalds or something?” she rubbed her neck again “I’m fucking starving.”

“No time babe” he latched up the case “We’re gonna have to stick around for a bit” He ran up to her and reached out his hand. Summer flinched as he grabbed her neck gently and pulled her in for a quick, adrenaline fueled kiss. It still made her neck hurt. “If this works out” he gave a toothy smile “we’re going to be set for life.”

“Ok, what the fuck are you even talking about?” Spencer always talked like this. The drugs were giving him delusions of grandeur.

He pointed behind him “The thing in that case, once I deliver that to my guy we’re gonna be fucking rich” he laughed, his dimples more pronounced than ever “We can do whatever we fucking want. We can get out of this shitty apartment and live where we always wanted.”

“And where’s that, Spence?”

Spencer shrugged “New York? LA?” Summer didn’t smile and soon Spencer’s smile faded away. “Fuck you” he said “I don’t have fucking time for this” he spun around and made for the door, but stopped “Hey I need to borrow your phone.”

“I lost it” Summer picked at her nose.

“Are you fucking kidding me” his hands clutched his head “You just got it! Shit...” he ran his fingers through his hair. Spinning around, his head darted like he was looking for an idea “I’ll be back in like fifteen minutes, all right?” he held up a placating hand “I’m gonna try and find a fucking pay phone” and he stormed out of the room.

“I’ll be here” she laid back down, her feet still hanging over the edge. She listened as Spencer undid the latches and stepped out, and at last Summer was alone again.

A minute passed and her impatience grew. Spencer would return soon, so now was her only chance to take a look at what he brought. Her bed pulled at her like a laziness magnet as she tried to sit back up again. With a grunt she stood and shuffled around the mounds of dirty clothes on the floor towards the dresser until, back hunched, she stood over the case.

“Wow” she thought as her gaze drifted towards the mirror “Spence must be reeeaaally moving up in the world if he’s got a case like this.” The oblong glass had cracks along the edges, but otherwise gave her a clear view of her body. Her mocha skin and her shoulder length wavy black hair glistened with summer sweat, and her green eyes sagged with stress and lack of sleep. She made a pouty face and shoved her bust out, but her efforts to seduce herself came up flat.

Returning her attention to the case she pried open the latches (which were much tighter than they looked). Nestled in the foam bed was a cylindrical canister. By the look of it Summer guessed it was eight inches long, maybe three inches across. As she stared at a gloriously petty thought came to her head. She seemed to have a lot of those lately. Grabbing the canister, she held it up to the light and found the groove that signified where its cap was. With both hands she twisted it, but despite her best efforts it wouldn’t budge. Just as she was just about to give up a light pneumatic hiss sounded. Tiny clicks like miniature gears turning were met accompanied cap slowly undoing itself. Before Summer could think to put it down, the top slipped off and landed on the hardwood floor with a clatter. A light, white mist wafted from the now-open tube. Summer smiled. Turning the thing upside down she shook it once, then twice before the contents dropped out onto the floor right next to the cap with an audible plop.

She leaned in to look:

“It’s just a black blob” she said reaching out with her finger and prodding it lightly.

On the third poke, it shuddered.

“Oh my God! What the fuck!” she scrambled backwards, leaping onto the bed and kicking sheets and blankets in a desperate attempt to get as far from the thing as possible. She couldn’t see it, but she heard the sound of it squeaking and spurting on the floor. The sound grew louder, like the thing was getting bigger with each second. Her heart beat fast and she started feeling dizzy. She wanted to go for the door, but decided against it since that would involve walking past the whatever-it-was to get there.

A single, slimy black strand leaped up onto the foot of the bed and clung to the bunched up quilts. Another strand quickly followed, then another one, then another one. They pulled with all their strength, trying to drag something from the floor up with them. When the blankets they hung on to started to slip another strand would emerge to give it more purchase. Summer shook, her terror matched by a strange curiosity that compelled her to stay.

That’s when she saw it...

Rolling up onto the end of the bed was the little black blob - only it wasn’t a little black blob anymore. The thing had ballooned to nearly twenty times its size, all of it squirming like it was agitated by the strain of getting onto the bed. Once the whole thing had climbed up it froze, like a hunter that had just spotted its prey. Its movements suddenly became more deliberate, like it was measuring her, judging her. Despite her clothes she’d never felt more exposed. Summer watched back, sweating more than ever, her breaths coming out in shallow shudders.

Suddenly a tendril leapt out from the main mass and latched onto her right foot. Summer yelped and jerked her foot back, but the thing wouldn’t let go no matter what she did. As the goo wrapped around her toes she felt another sensation. It was alien but at the same time familiar, a deep satisfaction like the feeling Spencer once gave her when they made out. She knew this wasn’t normal, but it seeped into her mind all the same, overwhelming all sense and reason. Slowly she wiggled her toes, massaging the strange creature between them. The energy it seemed to feed her made her whole body squirm. One thing was sure: she wanted more of it.

As if reacting to her thoughts, another tendril leapt out and snatched her other foot, and both tendrils in tandem dragged her along the bed until she laid out on her back, hands clutching the sheets. Using her body as an anchor the creature hoisted its mass closer and Summer laughed. This was it. This was the end. She was really about to be eaten by a creepy black blob monster. What’s more, she liked it. Could have been worse, at least it let her enjoy her last moments.

Mini tendrils clambered up along the main ones meeting her ankles, and then her shins. They all seemed to be climbing over each other, like they were racing to see who could devour her head first. Once they passed her knees she felt another sensation blossom in her lower legs - a tightening, like her muscles had just had a month’s worth of workout in the span of seconds. She could feel the adrenaline flood her brain, overwhelming her so much she almost didn’t notice as tendrils snaked their way under the gaps in her skin-tight jean shorts. When the first tendril grazed against her clit Summer shuddered and looked down along her body to see her clothes bulging. This thing wanted to fuck her, but she realized that it was having trouble reaching her.

“Here” she said “how ‘bout I help you” she unbuttoned herself and before she even drew her hands away a flurry of whipping tendrils erupted from the newly created gap and tore apart the rest of her shorts and panties along the inseam. The freed tendrils hovered poised, and Summer knew what was coming next and braced for it. With a snap they came together and plunged right between her folds, squirming and burrowing, pushing an ecstatic, bellowing scream from Summer’s lips.

Slipping up over her hips and over her belly it felt like her flat little stomach was being shrink-wrapped. Every few in inches another tendril would lash out and tear her top just a little bit more until it finally came to just underneath her breasts. Once it was clear her tank top wasn’t going to survive she sat up and tore the rest of it off, shrugging the strap off her shoulders and tossing the leftover rags to the floor. She wasn’t wearing a bra, so her vulnerable body was now completely exposed - and everything felt right. It was at this point, looking down along her half engulfed body, that she realized the thing wasn’t trying to eat her at all. What was it doing then?

Before she could consider that, the material that had bunched under her breasts leapt up like a wave, slamming down hard against her nipples and forcing Summer to bite her lip. She grabbed a handful between her fingers. It clung to her breasts like tape, but she wasn’t trying to pull it off. No she just wanted to touch it, to feel it between her fingers as it squirmed, yearning for every last morsel of her skin. It felt so cool, like chilled liquid rubber.

“Do you like it” a voice in her head whispered. It sounded like a younger Spencer.

“Fuck yes” another wave of tightening seized her muscles “Oh God...what the fuck are you doing to me?”

“Silly girl” Summer’s pride flared again “we just want to help you...make you better.”

Some of the goo had separated from the main mass and was wrapping around her hands. She held them aloft and saw them wrap around her fingers. Instead of stopping at the end the built and built, narrowing and tapering until her human digits were replaced with vicious talons, like glistening ice-picks.

“What do you get out of it you pervy shit?” she grinned wryly.

“We need chemicals...chemicals only beings like you can provide...” she felt it vibrate inside of her and her hips bucked “please let us bond with you...let us engulf you...enhance you...make you perfect.”

The rest rolled up her chest and collar bone and clambered down the length of her arm until it was whole again. With her entire body up to her neck covered she rolled her shoulders, testing her arms and wiggling her now clawed toes with delight.

“This your idea of perfect?” Summer said.

“You disapprove?” it vibrated again lightly.

“No it feels great” she said closing her eyes and smiling “But you said perfect. All I see is a glorified fetish suit”

“Oh, you think we’re done?”

Summer had only a split second to consider what it meant. Her whole body seized and a guttural moan erupted from her throat. Leaping at the opportunity, the creature clambered up her neck and onto her face. Suddenly she felt afraid. She clawed at it, pulled at it but her muscles felt weak. Rolling over her chin it forced its way into her open mouth, making her gag. She felt her hair being bunched up and pressed underneath a hood that soon engulfed her whole scalp. It slithered around her eyes and slipped between them, devouring them and plunging her whole world into complete darkness.

All sensation ceased. Even her sense of physical self-seemed to melt away. Nothing remained except a soft whisper, words she couldn’t make out that none-the-less made her feel angry, lustful, desired, furious...but above all predatory.

The first thing that came back was the sound of her breath - or at least she thought it was her breath. It sounded husky, like a cross between a large dog and heavy smoker. Her sense of touch returned next. She felt every single fiber of the bed beneath her along with soft movements of the air against her skin from the spinning fan. Even the pain in her neck was gone. To Summer it felt like she was completely naked, even when she knew that wasn’t the case.

The other senses quickly followed, with her eyesight, hearing, and smell seemingly accentuated ten-fold. She looked down at herself and gasped. Her skin had become a glossy black. Her breasts had become perfectly formed, firm mounds against her chest. As she shifted on the bed she became aware of her enlarged ass. Her excited breathing came faster and faster. She was eager to see her new self in its entirety.

Swinging her toned legs over the side she stood up and couldn’t help but chuckle. The ease at which her body moved made her feel like she was floating. All she had to do was think and her body would obey. Her hips bounced from side to side as she sauntered over to the mirror. She imagined she was walking on a runway and envisioned a massive crowd of imaginary people adoring her. Stepping over the canister on the floor she stood in front of the mirror over the dresser and gasped.

Staring back at her was a monstrous, vaguely human creature about her height (maybe a bit taller). Its whole body was covered head to toe in a skin-tight glossy bodysuit and its musculature was toned and defined with everything from her bombshell hips to her breasts was proportioned just beneath the threshold of believability. Emblazoned across and shaped to the contours of her chest was a pure white spider symbol. Nothing about the skin left anything to the imagination save the smooth, featureless surface on its crotch. The most striking feature though was the bald head. In place of eyes were two white patches, angled, pointed, and frayed to look as ferocious as possible. A mouth of razor sharp fangs stretched from ear to ear, far larger than a normal human mouth. Curious, she parted the fangs and half her face seemed to open. A long, serpent like pink tongue spilled out and bobbed prehensily like another limb. The mouth and tongue both secreted a neon green slime that dripped in sickening globs into the still open case.

It was right, she was perfect.

The once timid girl who’d always caved in to everything anyone told her to do was gone, replaced with a superior being of sheer physical and sexual power. She felt the urge to touch herself all over. Guiding her hands down her flank her palms seemed to glide along the flawless, frictionless surface. With her thumb and forefinger she pinched herself on top of her right breast and pulled. Even with her apparent super strength she only managed to pull it an inch before it slipped out of her grasp and slapped back into shape.

Suddenly she felt something. At first it was just felt like a mental twinge, but quickly evolved into what she could only describe as a “presence.” It was Spencer, he was coming back. She didn’t know how she knew. Probably another perk of the suit.

A fire rose inside her chest again - a different one. There was certainly pride there, but also anger, indignation, and an overwhelming desire to get back at her so-called lover in the most extreme way possible. She walked out into the main room and with each step the flame grew brighter. In seconds her desire to get back at him blossomed into outright bloodlust. She could feel his footsteps as he scrambled up the stairs of the apartment stairwell.

Leaping into the air she pressed her fingertips onto the cracked ceiling and instantly clung to the surface. With a swing of her legs and hips, her feet followed. Now she knew why the spider symbol was there. With effortless ease she was able to crawl along. Her love for the suit grew as she wondered to herself, what other powers her beautiful other had in store for her. As she made her way towards the front door she heard his footsteps coming down the hall. Positioning herself on the wall upside down she quickly found a place just above the door frame. Within moments, the door opened and her prey entered.

“Summer” He called “pack your things we’re leaving! Hurry up, o.k?” Summer watched as he snatched assorted clothes off the floor. She followed him, hovering just above his head. It was a game, and it was all she could do not to laugh. With the grace of a gymnast she released her grip on the ceiling and slipped down to the floor. Standing tall she made a pose, ready for her debut. She hissed ever so slightly, and Spencer paused.

“Holy shit, Summer you--“ he turned and his eyes went wide “Summer, what the fuck did you do?”

“Awwwwwww” she tilted her head and bore her fangs “You don’t like us?” she took a step forward and Spence retreated. With every advance she made he stepped back until his heel caught on a pile of dirty clothes, sending him toppling backwards with a yelp. Quickly she sprang, leaping towards him and gripping his shoulders. Spence gasped as he hit the floor and Summer mounted him. Opening her maw she let her tongue slip out, letting it graze his face and coat it in a thin layer of putrid slime. She felt a wet patch form in his pants. It looked like he was about to cry.

She needed to rub it in. She wanted him to see her face, her human face. She clamped her jaws shut, meshing her teeth together like a boney curtain. Inside her mouth she felt her gooey tongue and slime coagulate, and as they meshed she began to regain a sense of her normal human features: her nose, her cheeks, her mouth. When the shifting stopped the fanged gates parted as far as her hairline and chin, like a snake about to swallow its prey, and Summer felt the humid air waft against her face again.

“Mmmmm” she cooed licking her lips “thank you for bringing home this gift for us honey” she caressed the side of her face with her claws “It feels so good on us...and inside of us” her claw went down to where her pussy would be and sensuously stroked it. Spencer’s erection was very apparent.

“S-Summer” he stuttered “You’ve gotta get that thing off. It’s messin’ with your head. You have no idea what it’ll do to you.” He tried to move, but with every attempt Summer pressed him down even harder.

“Maybe I don’t” she closed her eyes and allowed the jaws to clamp shut over her face. Immediately her head reformed and reshaped, melting and forming into her beautiful, monstrous form.  “But I’m willing to find out.”

Spencer started to cry. His sobs came in pathetic, blubering heaves. “Please” he struggled against her grip “don’t kill us. I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you! I’ll never do it again!”

“Oh” she leaned in towards his ear “We know you won’t” she reared back, fangs at the ready.

“No! NO!”

She loved how he screamed when he realized his pleas for mercy weren’t worth shit.

She loved the feeling of her fangs pressing against the skin of his neck for a split second before piercing it and digging into the soft flesh of his trachea.

She loved how his screams became garbled like drowning as blood erupted around his torn vocal cords.

She loved how powerful her jaws felt as she tore out his throat with a jerk of her neck.

She loved how his muscles all seemed to go limp at the same time as he flopped onto the floor at her release.

She loved the sensations the red liquid against her tongue - all metallic, warm, and sticky.

All these things she loved because her other loved them. All these things fed her long dormant pleasure centers with a high her normal self never dreamed of. All her life people told her to manage her ego. They always told her that she needed to measure her expectations and accept that she wasn’t as extraordinary as she thought. Fuck those people. From here on out, with the help of her perverted, transformative little friend, she was going to finally get everything she ever wanted.

So now what?

“Everything” the voice whispered “we shall live...deliciously.”

She had to leave, that she knew, but first she had to deal with the problem at hand. Spencer had enemies, but folks would get suspicious if they found his bloody corpse with her missing. They might try to find her. They might start asking questions. They might find out. They might try to separate her from her other. None of these things she could not abide, and the soft affirmation from her other confirmed that. She had to hide the body. She had to make him go missing. No one would miss him, after all, but how was she going to do it?

Another notion creeped into her mind, a sickening notion, one that made her salivate all over her late boyfriend’s corpse. She licked the leftover blood from her fangs, basking in the sweet flavor of human flesh. With every second the hunger grew, to the point where she knew she really had no choice. She did tell Spence she was starving after all.

[symbiotemasklover]

SYMBIOTIC LOVE - Prologue (Redux)

For eons the thing had traveled, crossing vast oceans of space like a message in a bottle. It was small - only eight inches across. Not even the most zealous astronomers would have cared about it even if they had seen it - and if they did conventional knowledge would have told them it would burn up before ever reaching the ground. After all that’s what meteors normally did.

Of course this wasn’t an ordinary meteor...

Careening through the stratosphere it ignited into a brilliant ball of red-orange flame, tearing through the air at impossible speeds. The ground rose to meet it, and with a quick, dull THUD it buried itself into the soil, the heat of the impact igniting the nearby grass. As it sat there it glowed with a fierce light like a beacon in the night, but as the evening air caressed it cooled, changing color from orange, to red, then a darker red, and finally black.

For a moment it just sat there unmoving - as rocks usually do. Its glossy obsidian-like surface reflected the light of the nearly-full moon. Minutes crept by and its luster slowly began to fade until all that remained was a plain, brittle looking hunk of stone. Thin cracks began to form at the object’s crown and slowly creeped downwards. Before it even got halfway the top half caved and the cracking stopped. The broken pieces quickly disintegrated in a pool of black liquid - a glossy tar-like substance that shimmered with the same light meteor did moments ago.

Again, for a moment everything was still.

...

The pool shuddered, its viscous surface bulging and shifting like a sleeping animal. A single tendril, like a stretchy claw, leapt from the surface and gripped the rim of the now bowl shaped meteor. It strained, trying to pull itself free from its prison. As it did so it began to stretch and separate, the weight of gravity working strongly against it. Just as it was about to slide back into the goo, another tendril shot out, bracing its brother and enabling it to pull its mass out even further.

Another tendril leaped, then another, than another. Soon the whole pool was slowly being lifted out of the cavity, clambering in all directions like it couldn’t decide which way to go. One portion of it started to spill over the side, and as it did so it’s mass separated from the rest, tearing itself away and tumbling over the lip and landing with a plop.

The rest of the creature seemed to notice the sudden separation, and the two halves of what remained started to pull apart as well. It strained and strained, splitting down the middle until all that held it together were a few taut strands. With one last tug the two halves snapped apart, and both masses landed at the foot of their long-time home with an ungraceful splat.

Wasting no time the three aliens bolted from the scene. They slinked through the grass feverishly grasping at whatever purchase they could find. Primal instinct drove them, each one craving only one thing - and they could sense that this planet was full of potentials that were both able AND willing. One went north towards the tree line, disappearing quickly into the underbrush. Another went southeast towards a pathway thirty feet away. The third made its way to a nearby manhole and quickly slid through the gaps on the metal surface and into the sewers below.

The hunt was on, all that remained was silence.

Across the city three people were going about their lives.

In a suburban home many miles away, a community college student browsed the internet. Propping his head with his palm he scrolled through page after page of his google image search. On the screen were pictures of beautiful women clad in a myriad of skin tight outfits: costumes for characters like Spider-Gwen, Black Cat, and Harley Quinn among others. He’d been looking at these images for hours. He fantasized what it would be like to know them, wondered if they dressed like that for their boyfriends - or girlfriends. Did they lie in bed together and talk? What were their likes and dislikes? What was it like to love them?

Reaching across his desk he grabbed a tissue and unzipped his jeans with a resigned sigh.

In another suburban house clear across town was another young man fresh out of high school. He stood in front of a mirror, naked save for his briefs and a bra stuffed and fit as snug as possible across his chest. His parents wouldn’t let him grow his hair out, but he’d managed to sneak in a wig which he wore and draped over his front to hide the seams of his make-shift disguise. He made a half-hearted pose, the excitement and arousal of the transgressive act overriding his crippling anxiety. For the briefest of moments he truly felt like someone else, but he couldn’t figure out who that person was.

While searching his brain for an answer a knock on the door startled him from his daze, forcing him to hurriedly stuff the garments in his hamper away from view.

In the Dean Perkin’s Psychiatric Hospital a young woman, barely old enough to drink, curled up next to the window of her cell. It had been two weeks since they brought here in - the third time this year. They’d cut off most of her hair, which was understandable since she’d tried to choke herself with it earlier that week. The drug-induced haze made it hard for her to concentrate, but at least it made the voices stop. The sickness had become a fact of life, and even though she’d occasionally feel the paranoia seep back in she was grateful for the brief reprieve from her constant suffering. Still, underneath it all she secretly yearned for a manic high she knew wouldn’t - and shouldn’t come.

Wrapping her arms around her knees she glanced up at the moon, counting the hours until morning when her parents would pick her up.

Back in the park the remains of the meteor sat there, cold and empty. With its passengers having vanished into the night the makeshift craft had finally served its purpose. All at once it shattered, crumbling into a heap and disintegrating until the hole it left was completely filled. The only evidence of the crash that remained was a patch of bare dirt and the singed tips of the grass around it.

[symbiotemasklover]

MASK(S) OF VENOM

Late one night your girlfriend saunters into the living room with a mischievous look in her eye. You can tell she wants something, but you can’t tell what. Her sweatpants hug her swaying narrow hips loosely as she approaches. The couch you sit on squeaks as you adjust yourself, preparing for her to plant herself in the spot next to you. Standing at the lip of the seat she positions herself, her small, firm ass positioned just at eye level. With a long sigh she drops down on the couch with a matching “whump”. Wasting no time she snuggles next to you, nuzzling her face into your shoulder. For a moment there’s only the sound of the TV and her slow breathing.

“Whatcha watchin?” her husky voice rumbles near your ear.

You knew the silence was too good to be true - and by the way she said it you knew she wanted an answer.

“Magnum P.I.” you mutter back.

“Oh” she says, feigning interest “looks old”.

“It’s from the 80’s or something. My parents watched it a lot when I was a kid”.

With the conversation going nowhere the two of you fall into silence again. She adjusts her body, turning her chest towards you and allowing her right breast to graze your arm. Her hand runs along your thigh briefly where it ever so briefly skirts the edge of your slightly bulging crotch. Her sidelong glances seem to probe you, looking for any justification to come right out and say it. You wonder how long it’ll take for her to realize she doesn’t have to.

“Wanna try them on tonight?” she finally says.

At first you do nothing, pretending like you didn’t even hear her. She cranes her head to look at you, probing your face for an answer, her eyes pleading. You try to hold back, but you both know you can’t resist. A wry smile creeps across your face and she quickly smiles back. With a grunt you push yourself up out of your seat and she quickly follows behind. You hear the TV turn off behind you, and a moment later feel her hand in yours. Her palms are sweaty.

The two of you make your way down the short apartment hall until you round the last corner and reach the bedroom. Once there you sit on the edge of the bed and begin to take your shirt off while she makes a bee-line for the closet. You can’t help but sneak a glance as she stands on her tip-toes, straining to reach the cardboard box on the top shelf and exposing her petite midriff. As her fingertips find their grip you return to the task at hand. As you fumble with the brass button on your pants you hear the box being opened behind you, and then silence.

“Holy shit” she says flatly.

“What?” you ask turning.

“I don’t know, it’s just...” she pauses, then kneels down “...I guess I don’t remember them looking this realistic.”

Standing back up she draws a pair of near identical objects - two pitch black head masks, each with two flame-shaped patches where the eyes might have been. Splayed across their faces were ear-to-ear mouths filled with rows of razor sharp teeth with a long, pink, serpentine tongue spilling out of it. She holds one up and you can see its surface glint and glisten like oil in the dim light. As she turns it about you see the slit along the back of the neck where the spine might be. The neck tapers off around the shoulders, completing the horrifying grotesque visage of the comic book villain Venom.

The sight of the masks excites you - and you know it excites her too. After all, you both had a fetish for symbiotes and living costumes. When she brought up the idea of buying Venom masks you didn’t know she was serious. Two weeks later, though, there they were on your doorstep.

“Where did you say you bought those again?” you say pulling down your underwear and tossing it on the floor.

“Just some website my friend told me about” she pulled her tee-shirt up over her head “she said they were the most realistic costumes she’d ever bought” she unhooked her bra “looks like she was right.”

“I just wish we had full body-suits, you know?”

“I know” she said pulling down her sweatpants and panties “I tried looking for them but all they had were masks.”

You didn’t say it, but you guessed that she actually did find them but they were too expensive so she just got the masks instead. Working part time as a waitress didn’t afford a lot of luxuries.

“These eyepatches seem kinda thick” she muses to herself as she crawls onto the bed “I wonder how you’re supposed to see through them.”

You lie back, head on the pillow. Upright and on her knees you see her toy with the mask in her hands. She seems hypnotized, eyes half closed. You see her slit glistening slightly, her arousal apparent. Holding the mask with both hands you see a smile creep on her face as she gazes inside the darkness of the mask.

“Hey” you call to her.

Immediately her head snaps up to look up at you, like she just woke up from a dream.

“Right” she turns the mask about until the back faces her “you ready?” she says with a bounce of her eyebrows.

You nod.

She takes another few deep breaths, then pulls the back flap open and lifts the mask over her head. With a firm tug she pulls down smooshing her pixie cut hair against her scalp and squeezing it into the opening. After a moment the material expands slightly, allowing for her to slip the rest of her head into it with a kind of pop. Using her fingertips she flattens the mask’s shoulders against hers. Her breaths come shuddered - you can tell she’s turned on right now. Slowly she turns her head down to look at you through the eyepatches...somehow.

“Now it’s your...” she freezes. She brings a hand to the back of her neck and feels around. She tilts her head slightly, like she’s confused before--

“Ow...what the fuck?” she brings both hands to the sides of her head.

“Nothing, the mask just got really tigh--“ she gasps like something is blocking her airways.

Suddenly, her head rears back. She makes a gurgling sound, like something is being forced down her throat. It’s then that you notice the mouth, teeth, and tongue of the suit pushing against her face, like it’s merging with her own. Another sickening lurch of her head and you hear a harsh, guttural breath escape. You lie there, frozen unable to move. The tongue of the mask starts secreting some kind of green ooze. She must have noticed, because she gives a small yelp and withdraws it into her now fully functional jaws.

“Ohhh god...”

Scrambling upright you crawl on your hands and knees over to her, hoping to pull off the mask.

“NO!” her alien flanged voice screams as thrusts her palm out “hold on!”

Her shoulders go slack and she seems to relax. Her breaths slow and she turns her head like she’s listening to something.

“I can feel it inside me...” she whispers “It knows what we want”.

Her breathing speeds up. Her lips slowly start to curl into a wicked smile. You notice the sweat all over her body, making her human skin glisten almost as much as the mask.

“Aaahhhh” she coos softly.

You then see the edges of mask start to shudder and bulge.

“Take me...” she whispers.

All at once it seems to explode, sending a surge of tendrils down her shoulders and along her arms. As the first of them reach her breasts they leap out and slap down on them, forcing a cry from your girlfriend’s mouth. More tendrils stretch and criss cross down her forearms until they reach her hands. She holds one up and sees the black material weaving between her fingers. Turning her hand about she gazes at the process with awed reverence as her now black gloved hand elongates into five perfectly pointed talons. Her head turns, looking over her shoulder as the symbiote creeps down her back, coating her shoulder blades before reaching the top of her ass crack. Her back arches as a single, large tendril slithers its way between her cheeks. More climbs down, coating her abs and inching its way closer and closer to her soaking womanhood.  She looks down and spreads her legs apart as if to welcome it, and without a hint of hesitation the thing parts her lips and begins to crawl inside her. Her hips squirm. The costume starts to act fast, quickly enveloping her thighs and working its way down to her feet. She holds one foot up, watching as the tendrils tease the arches of her foot before plunging between her toes.

“Hold on” she says between breaths “It’s not done yet”.

In that moment her body seizes, her muscles clenching. In her uncontrollable movement she topples over the edge of the bed, landing with and ungraceful thud on the floor.

“HHHAAaaahh” she sqirms “HAAAAHHH”

Her back arches and her hips buck out of control. The muscles along her limbs spasm, reforming and toning themselves until the definition becomes apparent beneath the black skin. The symbiote tightens across her chest and ass, and as they do they grow and firm like they’re being held up by invisible support. Finally, her breathing slows. Her fanged mouth opens and smiles as she basks in the embrace of the alien lifeform affixed to her body. You watch from the bed, your erection rock hard.

She is She-Venom now.

With the grace and sleek movement of a huntress, she slowly draws herself on her own two legs. In the dim light you see the black, glossy skin molded perfectly to her now lithe, muscular frame. Splayed across her ample, firm breasts is a familiar spider symbol, it’s legs wrapping all the way back around her rib cage. She’s perfection - and she knows it. With one clawed hand she strokes herself all the way from her bald head all the way along her breasts and off her shapely hips.

It’s then that you see what she holds in her other hand - the other mask.

“Now where was I...” she says putting a single claw to her chin “Oh right” she flashes her fangs and takes a step towards you “your turn...”

You play scared, that’s what she wants. In your heart you yearn for that symbiote to bond with you more than you’ve wanted anything else in your life. Five feet from your face she turns the mask over, the back now facing you. On its own accord the back splits open even further up along the scalp. You can see the clambering tendrils inside reaching out for you, begging for your head to be inside of it. The thing tugs against She-Venom’s hands. You realize her superhuman strength is the only thing keeping it from leaping on your face right now. Unable to fake it anymore you open your mouth, ready to become its host. She holds it back just a moment longer, as if to tease you, then releases it. The thing leaps like a facehugger straight out of Alien, launching itself at your face and colliding with it at such force that it knocks your head back against the headboard.

The mask wastes no time beginning its transformation. You feel the goopy semi-liquid material clamp down against the back of your head and forcing its way into your mouth. Your vision returns quicker than you expect, allowing you to see your transformation. In your head a voice echos “Your mate is hungry for you....we will give you the power to please her...and please yourself”

“Yes...” your alien voice rumbles.

You see She-Venom smile as she watches you. She teases you by letting one of her claws glide along your shaft, forcing a brief shudder from your loins. Not yet, you need to become Venom before she mates with you. The material begins to expand at the neck, crawling down your chest at a much greater speed than it did for She-Venom. It feels like your nerve endings are on overdrive as inch by inch the alien costume encases you - becomes one with you. You feel a newfound power flowing through your limbs as the first glove crawls into place around your hand. As you admire it you barely notice the other one slipping on - it just feels so natural to you. Soon the symbiote finds its way down the small of your back and between your cheeks. You can’t help but shiver as it works its way between them, caressing your taint and quickly encasing your balls.

She-Venom wraps her hand around your shaft and slowly begins to pump. Your mouth opens and your clawed tongue rolls out as you feel yourself reaching climax. Unable to hold it back anymore you let your body release itself. The first pulse...the second pulse...before anything can erupt from you the symbiote leaps up and wraps itself around your head, catching your seed before any can come out. She-Venom looks disappointed, but you want to save it for her anyways.

The material feels smooth as it finishes wrapping around your still erect member and almost immediately brings you to another orgasm, but before you can you’re drawn to the sensation of the material crawling down your legs and turning your normal, human feet into the clawed feet of a predatory monster. As the last of the symbiote encases you, She-Venom backs away and clambers off the end of the bed, giving you space to complete your transformation.

At first your new skin just feels a little tight, like a speedo. You can still feel the separation between you and it. Everything seems to slow down, your breathing, your mate standing at the end of the bed. “Are you ready...” the voice in your head whispers “...to become one?” All you do is think your answer and the process begins. All at once your other tightens all over your body. You scream as your nerve endings send pleasure all throughout your body, the line between you and the symbiote becoming thinner and thinner until any sense of separation disappears. Your identity starts to change - you’re no longer just yourself, though you exist underneath this new identity. Your muscles bluge, imbuing you with a strength you never knew was possible, not like a bodybuilder, but like an Olympic athlete. You catch glances at She-Venom. Her chest expands and contracts rapidly in arousal at the sight of your transformation. You even catch a glimpse of her hand rhythmically stroking between her legs. As you look down further you see your...length extend like the symbiote is building on it until it stops at about a foot in length. On the last tightening your mind goes white - your identity fully merges with that of your costume.

You are now Venom.

Sitting yourself upright, you’re surprised at how easy your movements come to you. It’s as if you only need to think of your next move and your body does it for you without strain. You hold your arms out in front of you palms up and flex your claws. The surface of your skin glistens just like your mate. You can hear your harsh breaths as your muscled chest heaves. As your gaze is drawn upward past your toes and towards the end of the bed you see your mate poised, chest out, hips swaying, like a predator waiting to pounce on her prey.

All you do is flex your fanged grin upwards an inch before she screams and leaps, arms out like they’re about to rend your flesh apart. She lands on you, forcing you back on your back, her hands planted into your shoulders. She stares into your eyes - or rather the white patches covering them, and your do the same. You know her human eyes lie beneath that mask somewhere, watching you with a fevered hunger. Your slow, heavy breathing starts to align with hers. Your eyes glance down and see her breasts seemingly press closer and closer to your chest with each breath. You bring your claws up and place them gently against her flank, allowing your palms to press in and squeeze her chest together. Their firmness gives way ever so slightly to your strength and her mouth opens wider, allowing green slime to drip slightly onto your own chest.

“OOOOooohhhh” she moans as she gyrates her hips in the air above your alien erection. Every once in a while her slit will graze your tip and you feel yourself spasm slightly. You want to be inside of her - but she’s taking too long.

Releasing her chest you grab her ass, wrapping your claws firmly around her cheeks and pull her hips down. The tip parts her lips she screams again, her alien vagina secreting the same green liquid as her mouth. More and more of you slides inside of her and you feel the smooth, muscly walls enclose around you, squeezing you, holding onto every last inch with an insatiable hunger. With one last tug you shove yourself fully inside of her. Her back arches and a series of high pitched screeches rends the air. Tendrils erupt from her hips wrapping around yours and squeezing, holding you inside her as her inner walls clamp down hard as they try to squeeze your juices out of you.

With her suit already holding on at the hip, you grab her midsection and lift your body up, bringing her body with you and spinning about until she’s below and you’re above. You slam her body against the mattress, the wood frame creaking loudly under the weight. Her screaming subsides and her tendrils retreat but you don’t let that stop you. With you in control you pin her down and slip out of her, then into her, then out again. With every thrust you force a moan out of her, and with every withdrawal you feel her symbiote tease you, egging you on, waiting for you to give her what she desires.

“This was the best idea ever...” She-Venom says rolling her head and shoulders as you have your way with her. Lazily she brings her arms up and wraps them around your neck, drawing herself up off the pillow and placing her mouth next to where your ear might have been. You feel her tongue graze your shoulder and meander its way down your back. As the ooze drips down your shoulder blades you feel it as if it were against your own skin. Her head turns.

“Let us finish for you...” her voice growls in your ear.

“Whatever you want, my queen”

The phrase ‘my queen’ draws a rumble of approval in her throat. You roll onto your back again and wasting no time she mounts on top of you and continues to fuck you. Her body sways and dances with the rhythm, her face turned upward like she’s basking in unholy pleasures. You feel the pressure build in your loins and you know that you’re close. Her pace grows more frantic, her breathing frantic.

“Fill us” she moans “make us complete.”

She grabs your hips and holds on tight, and as you feel the first shudders in your balls you grab hers as well.

“Oh God....” you hear gasp under her breath.

Your pelvic muscles spasm. You feel the first waves of your orgasm flood your senses. Another spasm and you feel the fluid start to rush up your shaft. Another spasm, and the first bursts of semen erupt from your tip and into her womb. As soon as it does you can tell that she feels it, because her mouth hangs open and she looks down at her slit.

“Oh God it’s so warm...”

You feel her walls tighten as she draws more and more of your seed inside her. On and on you go - it seems like you should have run out already but still your body keeps pumping.

A strange feeling seeps into your brain. It’s like the pleasure in your brain is mixing with a pleasure that’s not entirely yours. You look down and see that your symbiotes have started merging together at the crotch, the membrane making the separation between you and her indistinguishable. You can tell she’s feeling it too because she looks down at you, confused. A wave of emotions, apprehension, desire, loneliness, seem to grow when they weren’t there. You both seem to come to the realization at the same time - the symbiotes are letting you feel each other’s thoughts. Before you can say anything, you sense blossoming warmth inside of your mate. She’s about to cum again.

“Aaahhh....AAAaaahhhh....AAAAAHHHhh!!”

Her thighs clamp down around your hips and you can feel the chemicals in her brain sending her haywire.

“OOOHHHH GOOODDD!!!”

The symbiotes undulate on both of you. Her walls clamp down on your again and again. Her head rears back as she roars and you roar with her. You continue to fill her and She-Venom continues to receive it. The whole world seems to turn white in pure ecstatic bliss. In the heat and passion of your mating, your minds melt together. This is more than sex to you two now - this is truly becoming one.

Then, slowly, the sensations die. You can feel your pulsations slow and her walls ease up. Your minds begin to separate, despite your best efforts to hold on to that intimacy. You see her shoulders slacken, her breathing slows. Each of your respective symbiotes detaches from the other, retreating back to its original host. With a long, guttural sigh, She-Venom plants her hands into your chest and leans on you for support. She looks into your eyes and without a word you both know you need to see each other. Little tendrils of symbiote seem to evacuate her throat until enough comes out of her gullet that the jaws begin to part. Within the jaws of the mask you see the face of your girlfriend - sweaty, exuberant, and full of affection.

“I love you so much” she pants.

You will the symbiote to leave your mouth and separate and you feel the air brush against your human face again.

“I love you too” you mutter, a blissful smile spreading across your face.

Allowing herself to rest she lowers herself down and rests her head on your muscular chest and closes her eyes. The weight of her pressing back against your breaths fills you with a deep sense of connection. You’ve never felt this intimate with anyone in your life.

“I wonder how you get these things off?” she whispers, laughing.

“We can worry about that later” you mutter back.

Propping herself up with her palms against your chest she looks into your eyes and flashes you a wicked smile - the same smile that made you fall in love with her.

“So...” she shimmies her hips “wanna go again, Venom?”

“Damn straight” you say smiling back.

She glances upward.

“How about on the ceiling this time?”

“Sounds good to me.”

Blissfully her eyes close and her mouth opens, welcoming the mask to crawl back inside. As your girlfriend’s alter-ego reasserts itself, you do the same.

[symbiotemasklover]

LIVINGSKIN: CONVENTIONS - Chapter 2 [TRADE] [FINAL]

The costume loomed as Gina stepped closer. It lorded over her meager body with an sexual presence that completely overwhelmed her. It wasn’t limp like unworn suits usually were. It stood upright, it’s voluptuous form fully on display for Gina to ogle. At six feet it was a bit taller than Gina - but even as she watched it shrank inch by inch until it stood at just about her height. Now eye to eye her chest heaved as her desire rose to fever pitch. She felt exposed, naked...more than naked really. The veiny skin’s empty eyes seemed to promise a relief from her nakedness. Overwhelmed by need she guided her fingertips towards its face. As soon as they touched, an electric shock seemed to run through the suit, making it convulse ever so slightly. Gina stepped back, removing her hand.

“Maybe I shouldn’t do this” she mumbled to herself.

The creatures head tilted leftwards, like it was considering her - maybe even judging her. A soft insect like chittering rose from its throat, growing louder and louder with each passing second. Gina stepped back again, and almost immediately the suit stepped up to match her. She took another step, larger this time, and the suit matched that too. the third step, she shivered and her foot slipped on the near frictionless surface and she toppled backwards with a yelp. As soon as she hit the ground the suit hissed and threw itself forward. Gina opened her eyes to find it mounted on top of her, clawed hands pinning her shoulders to the floor. She struggled against it slightly - it seemed to enjoy that.

Reversing its grip it turned itself over so its back faced her. Its tendril hair teased lightly against her face. A squelching sound spread along the creature’s back, and before Gina could see its back split open she felt the first drops of ooze spill onto her stomach. It felt both warm and cold at the same time. She looked up and saw the tendrils part, followed by the back of the head. The inside of it was filled with a pinkish-grey fleshy substance lathered with the same ooze that was dribbling all over her. No turning back now. She opened her mouth, ready to accept it.

It didn’t move.

Gina stuck her tongue in hopes that it would be more inviting. Like a snake, the suit’s head lurched and forced itself against her face like a facehugger, plunging her whole world into complete darkness. Gina screamed as the tendrils clamped down behind her head, drawing her hair tighter and tighter into the mask. Her screams were brought short by something slimy forcing its way into her mouth and down her throat. Her vision faded back in. Everything looked brighter and more detailed than ever. Her mouth opened and her new tongue lashed out. A heavy gasp surged through the mask and into her lungs.

“Oh my god!” she screamed in her new, deeper alien voice.

Like shrink wrap she felt the body of the suit wrap around her. First it wrapped around her neck, then her collarbones and shoulders. As it pressed against her breast she felt the urge to reach up and knead them, but the suit wouldn’t let her lift her arms. Her stomach was next, then her hips. Despite the exterior not having any genitals she still felt the suit slip into her folds and enter her, forcing a gasp and a soft spasm from her changing body. The tightening around her arms and hands ceased and with her newly freed claws she touched her engorged, full breasts. Next it clamped around her calves, then her shins, and finally her feet. With a final firm embrace her transformation was complete.

Harsh breaths rushed out of her mouth as her ample breasts rose up and down. She arched her back, testing her new muscles. She was an alien now, a beautiful, sexy alien. Her mouth curled into a smile, her fangs flashing. She closed her eyes and took in a slow breath through her slit-like nostrils. As the sensations started to overwhelm her brain, a kernel of apprehension poked its way to the forefront telling her that she was getting too much into her “character”, but a sudden knock on the door snapped her back into it.

“That’s right” she mumbled to herself “wouldn’t want to stay in here all day” she stood up and stretched, combing her claws through her tendril hair and letting it spill down “I bet everyone’s curious about what the new me looks like” she glanced down at herself “and I intend on satiate that curiosity in every way possible.”

She pivoted on the balls of her feet and strode towards the door. With a firm slap she slammed her palm against the lock button. Gina grabbed the handle and pulled it open without so much as a grunt, letting the chilly air of the convention center spill and swirl around her naked body.

----------------------------------------------------------

“Well, well” the fox-man said stepping in front of her “who’s this I see here? Certainly not the nervous girl who walked into that room ten minutes ago, that’s for sure. Tell me, how do you feel?” He gave her a shit eating grin which Gina found utterly distasteful. All the same she smiled.

“I feel lovely” she said “So...refreshed so...” she paused, then gave a soft moan, which seemed to satisfy the fox-suited man.

“Fantastic” he said “Oh! And before I forget again, here’s a release form” he reached into his suit jacket and produced a one page form “just a formality.”

Without saying anything Gina used one of her tendrils to grab the pen from his suit pocket and signed her name along the dotted line. Once done she slipped the writing utensil back into place and the fox-man folded the document and slipped it back where it came from. He looked up into her face and smiled, bouncing his eye-brows.

“Well” he said clapping his hands together “Don’t let me keep you. You’re free to use the suit as you please for the rest of the day. No strings attached.”

“Oh, how generous” she said, her voice dripping with arrogance and sarcasm.

Her hip popped in his direction as she turned. It was like the suit was doing all of her movements for her. Other suiters who were waiting or coming out turned and gaped as she passed. Groups of them murmured as she passed. She could feel the jealousy emanating from them. Her posing and strutting felt instinctual, like an animal urge to be as much of an exhibitionist as possible.

Emerging onto the convention floor, her presence rolled through the crowd like a tidal wave. Every eye turned towards her and her glossy, naked alien form. The occasional wolf-whistle echoed from across the room. Those that were close to her were too awestruck to say anything. A dragon and another fox stepped aside as she approached. Gina felt so caught up in the commotion that she almost forgot that she had no idea where she wanted to go. Making her way through the aisles she looked from side to side, not so much out of interest but out of a need for as many people to notice her as possible. She paused by a booth selling suiting art. The antelope-woman behind the table seemed to tense as she approached. As Gina bent over to look at her wares she took special care to protrude her sumptuous ass as much as she could for everyone to see.

“How much is this” she said pointing to a drawing of a woman partially clad in a wolf suit.

“If you tell me what it’s like wearing that you can have it for free” the antelope said, barely containing her excitement.

Gina glanced over her shoulder and realized that a small audience had gathered. She could feel her normal self-rising up again. She had to keep it down, just for a while longer. She had to keep being the alien.

“Mmmmmmm...it’s like...it’s like” she started trying to find the right words “It was like being embraced and fucked by someone at the same time” she hoped that sounded sexy enough for them “and once we came we merged and became one being” her augmented eyes could spot salivating faces in the crowd. She had them now “It was the most intimate...the most overwhelmingly, mind meltingly sexual experience I’ve ever had in my entire life.” She hugged herself and rolled her shoulders “I don’t know if I ever want to take it off.”

A collective sigh rose from the crowd. The description seemed to satisfy them. A few of them dispersed, and the antelope grabbed the drawing with her surprisingly dexterous hooves and handed it to her.

“Wow” she said “here you go, you deserve it.”

“Thanks” she said dismissively. Gina snatched the picture from her with an arrogant smile which she immediately regretted.

Transaction completed she continued on her way. Her small entourage followed some distance behind, never getting closer than ten feet from her. She wished one of them would just walk up to her and say hi. She rationalized that they must have been intimidated. After all, none of them knew the person inside.

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Twenty minutes later Gina found Prim browsing. She was still in costume thumbing through some indie comics she must have picked up. Gina strode across the room towards her, her footfalls silent. At five feet away, Prim turned and yelped. The book she was holding slipped out of her hand and landed with a thump of the table. Her eyes narrowed.

“Gina!?” she said. Gina flashed a toothy grin, and after a moment Prim did the same. “Wow” she said “They weren’t lying when they said it’d be something special” her eyes wandered up and down her body “how does it feel.”

“Pretty fantastic” Gina said stretching, her fingers dancing in the air.

“Mind if I...“ Prim inches one of her padded hands towards her shoulder, slowly like she was savoring the moment. Gina made no motion to stop her. As soon as her paw made contact with her skin the touch reverberated along her nerves, lighting her pleasure center like a Christmas tree. A light, chittering moan rippled from her throat.

Prim smiled and laughed, her fingers caressing along the side of her face and into her tendril hair. She saw the people watching from a distance, a jealous, hungry look in their eyes. She quickly removed her hand brought it behind one of her pointed ears.

“So...uh...when do you have to return it?” she said trying and failing to look into the black lenses of Gina’s eyes.

“End of the day I think” Gina said “Oh! I almost forgot!” she handed Prim the drawing she just ‘won’. Prim looked confused, but when she saw what it was she blushed.

“Wow, thanks” she said.

Gina shifted uncomfortably. Her heart started to flutter. She was glad Prim liked her gift, but the way her body reacted didn’t seem to match the way she felt. It was the same feeling she had when she first put on her suit, only now...

“It’s getting a bit crowded here” Prim said barely hiding her shuddering breaths “can we go somewhere else?” She glanced over the others “I mean...not that the groupies aren’t great and all.”

Gina’s heart raced, but she didn’t know why. Whatever the reason was it made her feel good - REALLY good.

“Sounds great” she said.

----------------------------------------------------------

Away in an empty side room, Gina began to feel a bit like her old self again. She sat in a chair, legs crossed, still trying to put on a show. Prim had gone to the bathroom a fifteen minutes before. As she sat there she felt the suit tighten across her whole body. Normally once the skin settled it wasn’t supposed to shift. Was it a malfunction?

“You feelin’ all right?” Prim said entering. While the most of the suit was on her body, her mask hung from the neck on top of her breasts. Prim’s pale, human face and blonde hair was there, sweat covered and visible.

“What were you doing?” Gina said. She didn’t know much about ‘skin-culture’, but she knew being partially clad in public was a big no-no.

“I just took off the mask” she said panting “I was feeling kind of weird, so I just wanted to air out a bit.” There was something she wasn’t telling her “Your suit’s really something, huh? Can I see what it looks like on you without the mask?”

“No, I think I’m going to keep it on for now” Gina said “besides, it feels really good right now.”

Prim didn’t respond. Instead she took a few steps closer popping her hip and making her tail swish slightly to the side. Her eyelids were closing, and her mouth hung open. Seeing Prim’s actual face make those expressions made Gina feel strange, but something pushed into her brain telling her she’d look even better with her mask on

“Gina I really think you should take it off” Prim said teasing her thumbs into the straps of her bikini bottoms.

“How about you put your mask back on and then we can talk about it.” Gina didn’t say those words. They were the words of her other self.

Prim furrowed her brow, confused “Gina wha--“

At that moment Prim’s wolf head mask leaped up and forced itself against her face. A split second scream erupted from her mouth before the suit muffled them. The amorphous material clamped around her hair, and in a few short seconds Prim was fully her wolf self again. When she opened her eyes, she looked down at Gina and gasped.

“Holy shit, Gina, what’s happening to your crotch!”

Gina had felt it, the material building up where her genitals might have been. First it was just a nub, but as it extended and shaped itself into what looked like fully functional genetalia. Her eyes closed and she gasped as a light pulse pumped through it.

“Oh God! I can feel it!” she said wrapping her claws around the shaft “Prim...Prim what the fuck is going--“

Before she could take in another breath Prim lunged forward with a snarl, pinning Gina against the back of the chair. Her muzzle was only inches away. Gina could hear her haggard breath and feel it against her skin. Both their faces involuntarily curled into smiles.

“I want you so much Gina” Prim almost cried.

Prim wiggled her hips. Gina glanced past her and saw her bikini bottom in a crumpled heap on the floor. Her eyes drifted back to Prim’s. She wanted her closer. Her tendrils carried out this desire like limbs, extending and wrapping snake-like around Prim’s thighs and shoulders.

“Prim...the suits” Gina gasped “I think they’re making us fuuuuUUUUUU--”

She felt the thick, rubbery texture of Prim’s suit press against her tip. The prehensile apendaged twitched and probed until it found the hole where her friend’s anatomically correct slit was. Prim ground her hips against hers, forcing the appendage into her oozing hole until their pelvises were flush. In synch they thrust, Gina penetrating her harder and hard while Prim bucked over and over, taking Gina into her like she was a pro. Gina didn’t know she was this...capable, and she figured Prim wasn’t aware of it either. A mewling howl spilled from her maw - the suit had taken over.

Suddenly, the pressure in Gina’s loins burst, and her whole suit seemed to seize at the sudden release. The shaft undulated over and over, sending her into ecstatic convulsions that made her scream a hoarse, alien cry. Prim screamed too. Her walls clamped down on Gina and milked every last ounce of fluid that jettisoned into her latex womb. After a few seconds of this, their breathing slowed. Both of their suits seemed to loosen a bit, and Gina could feel her sexual urges dissipate. The appendage stirred and retreated into the suit, leaving her crotch as flat and smooth as it was before.

Prim stood up quickly. The suit seemed to do a good job in absorbing the leftovers of what they just did. Kneeling down she snatched up her bikini and wiggled it back onto her hips. As she stood there she cast nervous glances in Gina’s direction. Neither of them moved. As a few more seconds passed Prim’s looks changed from nervous to apologetic. Her chest rose and fell in heaves like she was about to cry. Without warning she turned and bolted out of the room.

“I’m sorry...” she muttered as the door flung open.

Gina sat alone. She definitely knew what had happened, but she couldn’t reconcile those facts with the newfound knowledge that she had just fucked her best friend.

------------------------------------------------

“Where’s Prim!?” Gina said storming up to the fox-faced man.

“Who?” he said.

“Did you see a girl in a wolf suit come through here?”

“As a matter of fact I did” he said looking over his shoulder “she looked rather distraught. I think she unsuited and left already. Why?”

Gina’s hand shot forward and wrapped around the man’s throat.

“Why did the suit make her fuck me?” she snarled her chittering louder than ever “Why the fuck did it make me let her do it?”

The man smiled, unfazed “Probably just a bug that needs to be worked out...Or maybe a feature, you never know really.” Gina released her grip and the man stepped back. Nonchalantly he straightened out his suit with his paws until he noticed the fury in Gina’s eyes “Don’t look at me like that” he said “you really should have read the fine print of that contract you signed before going out.”

Gina hissed, but she knew there was nothing he could do to him.

“I want to take this off” she said decisively “I don’t want to wear it anymore.”

The fox-faced man shrugged “You’re free to take it off at any time” he said “Though I suppose I’m obligated to warn you that once you do you forfeit any right to put it back on.”

Gina barreled past him and towards the nearest open changing room - the same one she used to put it on. Her clothes were still in a heap on the floor, untouched. Reaching behind her head and digging, she practically tore the mask of the suit off her face, peeling it and pulling the tubes it stuck down her throat out. She gagged and coughed. The rest of it seemed to take the cue and gently but quickly loosened across her body. It slipped out of her orifices, making Gina shudder. Within ten seconds the suit had detached itself from her and was walking across the room back to its waiting spot. Gina, shivering, cold, naked, suddenly felt overly exposed. Supposedly that was natural when you take off your first suit. There was no residue leftover after the unbonding process, so Gina snatched up her clothes and slipped them back on as quickly as she could. The feeling of the normal fabric against her body only slightly alleviated her body’s aching hunger to put on the suit again.

Gina struggled with the door, but once it opened about a foot she managed to slip out. She felt like she was about the cry. When folks in line looked at her she dipped her head, burying her chin in her chest.

“Enjoy the rest of your day ma’am” she heard a smarmy voice call out behind her. More than anything wanted to run back and punch that fox-faced asshole in his stupid muzzle, but she stopped herself. She didn’t want any more attention. Besides, her first priority was finding Prim - wherever she was.

------------------------------------------------------

After ten minutes of searching she found her. It was just her back, but she knew her hair anywhere. She was walking towards the clear glass doors at the front of the convention center with a large duffel bag slung over her shoulder. Gina weaved her way through the crowd, dodging a pair of dragons and a coyote before getting within talking distance.

“Hey!” Gina called out.

Prim stopped and glanced over at Gina, a weak smile curling on her lips.

“Hey” she said.

Gina closed the distance between them. Prim seemed exhausted, her expression unchanging. Was she waiting for her to say something? Gina looked at Prim’s duffel bag and knew what was inside of it.

“You’re still keeping it?” she said nodding towards the bag.

Prim shrugged. “No refunds, right?”

Gina shifted, glancing downwards. “Wanna talk about it?”

Prim scrunched her face and smiled “I’d rather not.” She turned and continued towards the door.

“We have to sometime!” Gina said following after her.

“What’s there to talk about?” Prim said waving a hand dismissively in the air “I roped you into all this and we ended up fucking, big deal right.”

Gina stopped and as if sensing her friend’s surprise Prim stopped too.

“It is a big deal” Gina said “The suit they gave me made us do it, it wasn’t your fault.”

Prim didn’t turn around, but Gina could hear her muffled sobs.

“But I wanted it” Prim said quietly “I did. I mean that’s why people buy these suits, right?” She ventured a glance at Gina “I know you’re not into that stuff, but I’ve always...” She shrugged the strap of her bag higher onto her shoulder. Her eyes seemed to plead for some response from Gina, something to alleviate the obvious pain she was feeling. Gina remained silent. Finally, Prim turned away. “Maybe the suit did make me do it, I don’t know.” She pushed the door open and stepped out.

The crowd swarmed all around, quickly blocking the view of her quickly departing friend. She felt paralyzed. Everything she knew about Prim seemed to crumble. She couldn’t reconcile the quiet, shy girl she knew that morning with the person she was talking to now. Did the suit change her? Were those feelings real? She’d never hinted at it before. Gina clutched her chest. Why was her heart beating so fast? Closing her eyes she took a deep breath. She had to do something. She knew that if she didn’t act she’d lose Prim forever. That was the absolute last thing that she wanted.

Launching into a run she pushed people aside and shoved the door open. Turning the corner she ran down the sidewalk in the direction she thought Prim went. It didn’t take long before she found her, head downcast and walking fast. Without a word Gina ran up beside her and grabbed her hand. Prim jumped, and took a step like she was about to bolt. When she saw who it was, she stopped. At first Gina thought she might walk away, but then noticed a hint of a smile nudge across the side of her friend’s mouth. She gripped Gina’s hand a bit harder, and Gina gripped back. Convention-goers flowed around them like a river, but there they stood, ignoring them.

“Let’s get out of here” Gina said “I’m still starving, let’s go find somewhere to eat.”

[symbiotemasklover]

MASK OF THE BLACK CAT -  Chapter 5 [FINAL]

Venom seizes Black Cat by the shoulders and lifts her high into the air. His claws clamp down, squeezing her shoulders and pushing her breasts outwards. The surface of Venom’s body quivers along his shoulder, morphing into a little nub, then an elongated growth, then a long, writhing tentacle. It twists and turns in the air extending longer and longer until it comes to right above Black Cat’s breasts. For a moment Black Cat thinks he’s going to send it between them. Instead it wraps around the zipper and carefully draws it down along the median of her chest.

After what seems like ages the zipper reaches the bottom with a satisfying click. At first the tightness of the suit holds the fabric in place, but a shrug lets the fur lined collar spread, revealing her smooth, pale collarbones. With a rolling shrug her breasts spill out.

“You gonna let me undress big boy or are you going to do all the fun for me?”

Venoms grin widens, his fangs dripping with slime. A low, guttural growl rumbles in his chest and spills out his maw, more like a bear then a man. His grip loosens, then releases completely, allowing Black Cat to drop. Landing with grace she stands quickly, pulling off the upper part of her bodysuit with effortless ease. She pinches one glove and removes it, then the other, all the while looking up and down her soon-to-be-lover’s body. The bulge in his crotch area swells even more. She pulls off the rest of her bodysuit, leaving her entirely naked save for her collar and the magical mask affixed to her face.

“All right” she says “it’s all--“

Venom snatches her up and slams her against a nearby wall. Her mouth hangs open, partially from arousal and partially from the shock. Her body is a full three feet off the ground. She looks down and sees the bulge morph and mold into a thick, foot-long shaft. Venoms tongue lashes out and licks her face, caressing the mask.

“Oh fuck...” she gasps.

The touch of the tongue against her mask arouses her even more. She feels her loins swell and moisten, juices spilling down along her leg. She closes her eyes and feels the shaft touch up against her thigh. It prods and explores her lower body, like a curious animal with a mind of its own. Finally, the tip touches her outer lips. The smooth, glossy texture of the symbiote costume allows it to slide right on in. Her vagina stretches. She feels an orgasm building and building in her abdomen. She screams, wrapping her legs in a vice grip around Venom’s hips. Her walls clamp down on her mate over and over. The uncontrollable spasms shake her wildly in his tight grip. Venom presses himself in and out. Green slime spills out of his panting mouth. His head lolls sideways. Black Cat wonders if the Venom costume enhances things for Dan the way hers does.

Venom roars as his shaft pulsates. A warm, goopy load of...something erupts into Black Cat’s womb and she shudders in orgasmic ecstasy. Just like that, it’s over. Venom lifts Black Cat off of himself and Black Cat shimmies her hips to help him. A torrent of green slime spills from her slit, slapping down on the pavement in a sloppy puddle. She shivers hard, rubbing her thighs together, basking in the afterglow. She’s slowly lowered, and once her bare feet touch the ground she slides down against the wall until her ass rests on the concrete.

“Wow...” she says panting, eyes closed “That costume certainly adds a little something doesn’t it Da--“

She looks up. Venom is nowhere to be seen.

Black Cat, alone, slouches, exhausted. Crossing her arms under her breasts she brings one hand up and lightly caresses her mask. Suddenly she feels out of place in her Black Cat body. The piercing breeze seems to cut right through her as she shivers five stories up. She looks back down at herself and sees Technicolor fluid pooling and crusting below her. She stands letting the last of Venom’s slime drip out of her before snatching up the crumpled pile of a suit and walking towards the edge of the roof.

----------------------------------------

Black Cat looks long and hard into her mirror. She’d managed to slip back home naked and unseen, entering her house from the upper floor window. Using a paper towel she mops up the rest of her sexual leftovers.

“What’s the matter with you April” she says to herself “You’ve got everything you’ve ever wanted”

She runs her fingers through her hair, pressing her chest out and rolling her shoulders backwards and side to side to side in an attempt to seem as sexy as possible.

“So why don’t you feel satisfied?” she mumbles.

Grabbing her suit off the toilet she slips back into it. It’s soft, latex-like fabric adhering tightly to her body. She draws the zipper back up until it clicks making the costume whole again. She places her hands at her hips, rubbing them up and down. One of her claws passes over the crevice between her legs and strokes lightly, hoping that might satisfy her. All the electric sensations seem to do is make her even more aware of how empty she feels.

With nothing else to do she brings her thumbs up to the sides of her mask and digs.

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April can’t sleep. All she can think about is Dan, wondering where he is, what he’s doing. She imagines him still wearing the costume. The very thought of the goopy, burly, living skin-tight suit wrapped tightly around his naked form turns her on. What if he never takes it off? What if he’s off fucking someone else right now? What if the suit makes him terrorize people just like his character would? More intrusive thoughts force their way in. What if he didn’t actually love her and it was just the suit that was making him do it? What if he only wanted her when she was Black Cat?

April rolls onto her side and sees her suit hanging off the back of her chair. The wig and collar are on the desk, but the mask is on the floor. She looks into its empty eyes and it looks back at her. To April it feels like her other self is judging her, like it’s telling her to put it on and never take it off. After all who would want to be around April instead of Black Cat?

She rolls over onto her other side and looks out the window until her exhausted body finally allows her to fall asleep.

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April wakes up to a knock on her front door. Groggily she rolls out of bed and stumbles down the stairs, opening the door to find Jen standing there, backpack over her shoulder, cheerful as ever.

“Hey, ready for another night on the town?” she says grinning from ear to ear “What’s wrong sleepyhead? Still recovering from last night?”

“Did you set up Dan to put on a Venom costume and fuck me?”

Jen gives a sheepish smirk.

“Why whatever do you mean?”

“Don’t fuck with me like this” April says crossing her arms “You know I hate it when you do that.”

“Lighten up” Jen says her face bouncing between playful and offended “So you two had a little fun with the costumes, big deal. I fuck people with my costume on all the time.”

April laughs hard.

“Sure, and it doesn’t mean anything to you, right? Fuck’em and leave them like you always do.”

Jen’s face turns decidedly sour.

“What’s gotten into you? First you wanted something so you could fuck Dan now it’s all about making a ‘real connection’ or some shit?”

“But he’s not like he was before!” she points out the door past Jen “That’s not him!”

Jen chuckles and shakes her head. She looks hard into April’s eyes with a terrible scrutiny.

“You think you and ‘Black Cat’ are separate people, don’t you. You’re not you know. It’s all you - just you.” She steps back and throws her hands in the air “I told Dan the same fucking thing, all the costumes do is bring out a part of you that you don’t acknowledge.”

April shakes her head.

“It’s changing my head Jen” her eyes water “I can barely go ten minutes thinking about it. You know maybe it would have been better if that part of me just stayed buried.” She runs her fingers through her hair “Dan’s probably changing too. Why did you make him wear--“

“I didn’t make him wear anything!” Jen belts “He knew what he was getting himself into, just because the costumes didn’t make things turn out exactly like you pretty little heart wanted doesn’t mean you have the right to tell me it’s my fault.” She gives a rueful laugh “What did you expect them to do? Suddenly make him fall in love with you or something? I swear you’re just as fucking naïve as you were when you left.”

The silence is deafening. April stands mouth agape while Jen stares furious. As tears drip down April’s cheek, Jen’s expression starts to soften. She glances down, unable to meet her crying friend’s gaze.

“I’m sorry” she says.

April sniffs back some mucus.

“It’s o.k.” she replies.

For a minute neither of them speak. Jen slings her backpack up on her shoulder. April leans against the door.

“Want to watch Adventure Time or something?” she says.

Jen looks up, smiling slightly.

“Sure” she says.

They both enter. Jen leaves her backpack at the door.

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Jen leaves about an hour later. The two of them hug, as if nothing bad had happened between them. As Jen steps off the porch she turns and gives a slight wave.

“If you need me just give me a call all right?”

April nods, smiling. As Jen walks away the early evening lamplight makes her look like a graceful silhouette. April realizes there must still be a little Catwoman in her - or maybe there always was.

----------------------------------------

Dinner was almost ready - cereal again. April reaches into the fridge and pulls out the milk, the last ingredient to make her lucky charms just right. Just as she slips her spoon into her expertly mixed breakfast concoction, the doorbell rings.

“Coming” she says.

Putting the milk back in the fridge she goes to the foyer. She opens the front door and almost immediately closes it in shock. Standing there is Dan, head bowed, clearly nervous, and completely normal looking.

“Can we talk?” he says.

Her heart flutters. She looks at him hard, trying to discern what he might be up to. All she can see in his eyes, though, is exhaustion.

“Sure, come on in” she says.

They both walk towards the Kitchen, Dan behind April. Dan stops, spying the Black Cat bodysuit draped over the back of her chair with the mask and wig on the nearby table. April turns to look at him and sees where his gaze is fixed.

“You going out tonight?” Dan says.

“I was thinking about it” she says.

Dan continues looking at the costume, hypnotized. April sits in a chair in the living room and turns it to face him.

“You said you wanted to talk?” she says.

Dan snaps out of his daze and looks at April. He mouths something, but seems to fumble over his words.

“I’m really sorry about last night” he finally says “Jen wasn’t kidding when she said the costume was addictive...” April doesn’t react. Dan blinks as he searches for more words “Jen told me how you felt about me” he walks towards her “Why didn’t you say anything?”

April’s mouth hangs agape. Dan stands over her, hands in his pockets.

“I was scared you wouldn’t like me back I guess” she glances away “We were already friends, and figured if you didn’t feel the same way I--“

He leans forward suddenly and kisses her gently on the mouth, lingering, then releases and turns to walk out of the room. April’s heart beats hard enough to ache.

“I’ll catch you later” Dan says, the quiver in his voice betraying his embarrassment. April touches her lips with her fingers, her eyes dart, the haze is clearing.

“Where you headin’ now?” she blurts out.

Dan stops and looks over his shoulder.

“Work - gotta explain to my boss why I’ve been gone for three weeks.”

April wraps her arms around her shins and rocks gently back and forth.

“Wanna meet later tonight?” she says “You know, maybe wearing our other selves?”

Dan shakes his head.

“I promised Jen I’d give her mask back”

April bites her lip and glances up at Dan.

“I think she can wait another day or two”

Dan smiles.

“O.k. but on one condition: we meet as ourselves first. Just bring your costume with you”

“Deal.”

Dan smiles, and without another word turns and walks out of the house. April is alone, basking in the glow warmer than she ever experienced in her costume.

-------------------------------------

The lights are all off. April and Dan lie on their backs together on April’s bed, smiling, panting and naked. Dan rolls over to face April and April rolls over to face Dan. They look into each other’s eyes both sensing what the other wants.

Dan practically jumps off the bed and walks over to his bag. He pulls out his gooey black Venom mask while April snatches up her wig from the dresser and wiggles it onto her head. They turn and face each other, Dan holding the back of his mask open while April has her eyemask poised in both hands.

“You ready?” Dan says

“Yeah” April replies.

They look into each other’s eyes one last time, and then quickly press their masks to their faces. Their simultaneous moans signal the start of their transformations. Through the surge of pleasure that rushes into their brains, the both realize one thing: they’re in for a wild night.

[symbiotemasklover]

MASK OF THE BLACK CAT - Chapter 4

THREE WEEKS LATER:

*Ding dong*

April jumps, startled, and drops her bowl of cereal. It hits the ground with a thud, spilling milk soaked cornflakes all over the hardwood floor.

“Shit” she hisses between her teeth.

Reaching down to pick up the plastic bowl, the doorbell rings with another, more insistent *dingdong!* She places the bowl on the nearby kitchen table and makes her way to the door. She leans to try and see through the door’s side windows. She hasn’t had a visitor for a while, and she wasn’t exactly expecting anyone.

Maybe it’s Dan...

She looks through the peep hole on the front door and sees Jen standing on her patio and decked out in her full Jen regalia. A black backpack is slung casually over one shoulder. There’s a split second where April considers whether or not to let her in. Weighing the pros and cons and realizing she was pretty much responsible for her recent...enjoyments, she decides to let her in. She undoes the latch and slowly opens the door as if she didn’t already know who was on the other side. Their eyes meet and Jen smiles.

“How’s it going?” she says with a tiny, cheerful wave.

“Hey Jen” April says, confused “What’s - uh - up with you?”

Jen shrugs.

“I was just in the neighborhood and decided to drop by and say hi”

Jen never just “dropped by”.

She leans in slightly, studying April’s face carefully, like there was a horrible sit under her eyes.

“You, o.k?” she said affecting what might have been concern “You look kind of tired.”

April smiles wryly, and after a moment Jen smiles back. April gestures with her head for her to come in, and just like that, any old feuds seem to melt away and it’s like they’re back in their college days. April lets off an exaggerated groan and Jen laughs out her nose. They head straight for the living room, Jen not even bothering to take off her high laced boots. They both walk past the small kitchen and Jen spies the mess on the floor.

“Why are you having ceral?” she says

“It’s my breakfast” April replies off hand.

Jen’s eyes narrow and she gives a nervous smile.

“April, its five in the afternoon”

“That early?”

Paying it no more mind they enter the living room where a re-run of ‘Gravity Falls’ is playing on the old CRT television. Jen tosses her backpack on the floor and eagerly throws herself on the couch, and April slumps down in the armchair adjacent to it. She lets out a heavy sigh and seems to sink into the upholstery. They look at each other, splayed out on their respective pieces of furniture, and laugh.

“How the fuck have you been” Jen says stretching her arms.

“You know, working, being a responsible adult here and there”

“Liar”

They both laugh again, and then fall silent. Both of them knew what the real elephant in the room was.

“So I guess I don’t have to ask how you like it.” Jen said, trying her best to be evasive.

April shifts in her chair, thinking of a response to what was probably intended as a rhetorical question.

“How often do you wear it?” Jen continued.

This question April DID have an answer for.

“Last time was for five days...” she lets the revelation hang there for a moment. Jen’s eyes go wide. “...then before that three...”

Jen’s mouth drops open.

“Holy shit do you wear it every night or something?”

“Not every night” April says defensively “just most nights”

Jen leans back and looks up at the ceiling.

“How do you even still have your job?”

That was a rhetorical question too, but April had an answer anyways.

“I took all of my vacation time for the year” she said half ashamed. Her eyes flash at Jen and she smiles “Hey, since when do you care if I have a job or not?”

Jen looks back at April and raises her eyebrows.

“Hey, I’m not responsible for your poor life choices” she says holding up her hands pleadingly “Though to be fair you don’t really look all that upset.”

April leans her head back and sighs.

“Honestly, I’m thinking I might just quit my job at this point.”

Jen’s eyes narrow.

“So...how are you going to pay for, you know, rent and stuff?”

April sits up and leans forward, putting on her best Black Cat impression. She shakes her shoulders and cocks and eyebrow.

 “Let’s just say that Black Cat has her ways.”

Jen lets out a loud belly laugh which startles April. April smiles slightly, she missed this.

“Look at you, all corrupted and self-serving” she says half sarcastic “Just like me.”

For the next three hours the two of them lie there talking. Everything from the TV shows they watch to the shit managers they had at work. Any thoughts of their falling out two years before seem like nothing but a bad dream. The only contact they’d had after April moved out was Jen sending her the link to the costume shop website over facebook after April posted about being desperate for one. If April were honest, she barely remembered why they stopped talking at all.

Eventually, though, April begins to feel hunger pangs - after all she never had her “breakfast”. Grunting she pushes herself out of the chair and shakes the stiffness off as she walks towards the kitchen.

“How’s Dan?” Jen calls back to her offhand.

For a moment April doesn’t reply. In her excitement at catching up she forgot to ask her about him.

“I actually haven’t seen him since the Halloween party” she says.

April remembers him guessing (correctly) that Jen was involved in her...transformation.

“Have you seen him?” she asks, leaning into view.

“No, not for a while” Jen replies quickly.

April goes back to preparing her easy-mac.

“I think he might just be avoiding me” she says stirring the cheese in “You know, after what we did at the party”

“Yeah, I heard about that” Jen says.

April wonders how she heard about it. No one else knew that she was the Black Cat from the party, though maybe Jen put two and two together. Then again, she was never really much of a social butterfly. Gossip wasn’t exactly her prevue.

“I’m sure he’ll turn up somewhere” Jen continues just a bit too casually.

April can’t get a read on Jen’s feelings about Dan. She knew she found him a bit stuffy.

“So April” Jen calls, clearly wanting to change the subject “I was thinking of maybe going out tonight. Want to come?”

“I think I’m good eating at home tonight” she sighs.

Jen tilts her head forward and raises a suggestive eyebrow.

“No” she reaches down for her backpack “I mean...out.”

She slowly pulls open the zipper, occasionally shooting over the top lustful glances at April. Once completely undone she worms her hand in and draws out a long, black bodysuit covered in a network of white stiches.

“Catwoman from Batman Returns” she says unable to hold back her smile.

April looks at the one piece costume then looks back at her friend. Her exhaustion seems to melt away as the two look at each other.

“Well” she pops her hip and tosses her hair back “looks like Black Cat and Catwoman are having a crossover”

-----------------------------------------------------

The two of them leap from rooftop to rooftop, screaming wild, savage calls with each bound. Exhilaration seems to pour from every nerve ending. Black Cat thought she had fun when going alone, she never imagined how much fun stalking the night with someone else might be. They both pause to catch their breath and turn to look at each other. In Jen’s place is a woman with a perfect figure: a round ass, full, firm breasts, and a one piece head to toe bodysuit that accentuated all of it. The only part of her skin visible is the area around her dark, angular eyes, her mouth, her nose, and her chin. Her plump red lips completed the package. Black Cat notices that Catwoman is checking her out the same way, but breaks away to glance sidelong into the street below.

“How about that one” she says motioning slightly with her head.

Black Cat turns to looks and sees a Diamond store - not just any diamond store either, a Helerman’s diamond store. That place had a reputation for not being the kind of place where folks would buy engagement rings. Even April had at least heard of the business’s...less than savory human rights reputation.

It’s perfect.

They slink their way down the building and onto the deserted street. The store had long closed, and most folks at this time of night were home or in the other parts of town. They both strut up to the front door and stand posed in front of the glass façade.

“Hmmm...” Black Cat says cocking her head to the side “now how on earth can we get in with it so well protected?”

As if to answer her, Catwoman walks up to the front door and leans down towards the handle. With one clawed finger she sticks it into the lock and jiggles it with expert precision. A click, then a squeak as Catwoman effortlessly pulls the door towards her. Holding it open, she offers grand gesture for Black Cat to enter. Black Cat gives a curtsey and enters the store, with Catwoman close behind. The door swings shut behind them until it closes, instantly cutting off the sound of the city.

For about five minutes all they do is browse the cases. It was almost too easy. Black Cat sticks her fingers between her breasts and pinches something. With a magician’s flourish, she whips out a pair of small bags, one for her and one for Catwoman. After handing her partner her bag, the two set to work opening the cases and extracting their precious cargo.

“We should do this every night” Black Cat says holding up a particularly large diamond to her eye. Catwoman doesn’t say anything in reply.

There’s a KA-THUNK and the lights in the room flash on, followed by the obnoxious blare of security sirens. Times up.

Catwoman bolts towards the front door, pushing her way through just as the security bars begin to come down. Black Cat tries to follow her, but the bars are too fast and she stops just short of colliding into the metallic dividers as they fall into place. She wraps her fingers around two of the bars and presses her face between them. Through the glass she just barely catches Catwoman disappearing into the shadows.

Black Cat can’t afford to be livid at her so called friend. She steps back and scans the room, quickly finding a small high window opening onto an alleyway. It didn’t look re-enforced, so she quickly leaps onto one of the display cases and lunges for the window, gripping the sill before colliding with the wall. With a grunt she pulls herself up and shatters the pane with a well-placed punch.

She has to wiggle her ass a bit, but she manages to slip through and pull herself to the outside world. Perched on the outside sill she glances left, then right, spying a nearby gutter drain pipe, balancing herself, she stands, crouches, then leaps towards the gutter, holding onto it with ease and immediately begins to shimmy her way up.

Higher and higher she goes, inching her way up and clambering over the lip of the roof after a minute of climbing. Standing tall, she pinches her suit and adjusts it, having mussed it up slightly in her rush to escape. She brings her fingers up to her face and traces it along the edge of her eye-mask, reassuring herself that it’s still there. Her breathing slows, and the sense of overwhelming silence sets in. She can hear the sounds of the city, but on this rooftop the air seems unreasonably still.

“Catwoman?” she calls out between breaths.

A sudden harsh, guttural breathing wafts from the shadows. It’s low at first, but gets louder and louder with each passing second.

“Jen?” Black Cat says, though she’s certain it’s not.

Her enhanced eyesight attempts to penetrate the inky blackness, but all she can see is more blackness.

...then the blackness moves.

At first it’s crouched, rising slowly off the ground and unfurling itself. At first it seems like an exceptionally bulky man, but as it steps forward into the roofs low light Black Cat can see exactly what it is...

It’s Venom.

His ebony black skin seems firm and resinous, but has a glossy sheen as what little light there was reflected off its surface. A white spider symbol is emblazoned across his chest, matching the character in the comic to a tee. In place of eyes are two patches of white on its otherwise featureless face.

Black Cat knows she can’t escape him, and he know it too. He takes his time, each step leading to an inevitable conclusion. Soon the hulking beast looms above her, nearly a foot taller than her. Somehow she’s not afraid of his presence, intimidated, but not afraid.

“Hello April” it growls in its flanged voice “or should I say...Black Cat.”

The realization strikes her like lightning.

“...Dan?”

The monster snarls, revealing two rows of razor sharp fangs. A long pink tongue spills out of its maw and green slime drips on the ground. A small pool forms at Black Cat’s booted feet.

“Wow...” she smiles, heartbeat growing faster.

“You like it?” He says “It came highly recommended from a friend”

Of course it did. Now everything makes sense. She realizes she’s probably watching them right now from some rooftop, the perv...

“So” Black Cat glances up and down his muscular body “Venom...what is it that you want with little old me?”

Black Cat raises one of her gloved hands up and places it ever so gently on his symbiote covered pectoral. Venom’s monstrous grin grows even wider and his tongue lathers his lips in their green residue. Black Cat’s eyes travel upwards to meet his and she can tell underneath that mask his eyes are looking at her with the same lust she has.

[TO BE CONCLUDED...]

:P

[symbiotemasklover]

LIVINGSKIN: CONVENTIONS - Chapter 1 [TRADE]

Gina leaned hard against the wall outside the changing rooms. She looked at her phone for maybe the hundredth time, trying as hard as she could not to look at the people passing by. She realized almost as soon as she walked in that conventions weren’t her kind of thing. All these people bunched up in one place made her uncomfortable. That coupled with the subject of the convention set her even more on edge than usual. Most of the people on the floor seemed normal enough, just your average, every day, regular looking human beings. Every once in a while, though, she saw a humanoid looking cat or snake walk by and any illusion that this was a “normal” convention shattered instantly.

She couldn’t figure out exactly why she allowed Prim to drag her here. She never liked the idea of people being so open about their fetishes. To her it all seemed too pervy to her, and she preferred for it to stay in the bedroom or on the internet. Unfortunately for her the popularity of so called “LivingSkins” had become too ubiquitous to ignore. Every week it seemed like another mall would get a new store tucked away in its dark corners. Outside of the more prudish fringe groups, LivingSkins had become in the past few years a normal part of life. You could even see someone wearing one on the street...fully clothed of course. It got big enough where official conventions like this became newsworthy events - not comic-con big or anything, but nothing to sneeze at either.

Gina checked her phone again, trying to avoid the curious gaze of a rubber skinned dragon couple who were probably wondering why she seemed so miserable. She realized a while ago that practically everyone else here seemed to be having the time of their life. She couldn’t deny the appeal. She’d fancied the thoughts of buying a costume herself. She’d even gone into a store and browsed once. After entertaining the thought for a while, though, she eventually came to the depressingly rational conclusion that it was too much money to spend on what was basically a glorified sex toy - plus she was never really into the whole furry thing.

Just as she was about to tune out the crowd completely, she heard a long sigh of her friend Prim from around the corner. Gina knew her by her sigh, but when she glanced up from her phone to look, the sight of her sent her brain into a whirl. Her friend was clad from head to toe in a shockingly lifelike grey rubber wolf costume. She wasn’t wearing any shoes anymore, and the only clothes she wore were a thin bikini top on her newly ample chest and a pair of short shorts around her now wider hips. ‘Was this really Prim?’ she thought to herself ‘She’d never dress like this in real life’. Looking into her eyes and seeing that usual hint of embarrassment confirmed it.

“Holy shit” Gina said “you weren’t fucking kidding about those body changes.”

If the suit had blood vessels, Prim would have probably blushed.

“Don’t tell my parents, all right?” she muttered, her muzzle moving like it was her real mouth.

Prim knew Gina would never do that, but she probably felt the need to confirm it anyways considering the circumstances. Most people’s parents probably wouldn’t approve of their daughter spending a good chunk of their savings on a LivingSkin, much less parents as strict as Prim’s. Gina thought she was joking about it when she told her about how she was going to buy one. She didn’t even know that was her “thing”, but here she was in probably the most revealing outfit she’d ever worn in her life as a fucking wolf. At least if her parents saw her now they probably wouldn’t recognize her.

“Where’re your clothes?” Gina asked.

“I rented out a locker” she said gesturing with her thumb the way she came “The guy said I’m good for the rest of the day.”

LivingSkin Corporation had provided large, portable changing rooms and lockers so that people could change into their suits in private. The reactions people have when putting on their suits can...vary, so the rooms were made ESPECIALLY soundproof. While sex in the rooms was nominally forbidden, the rules were laxly enforced. Gina had already seen a few couples go into rooms so that they could “change together”. The fact that Prim mentioned a guy got Gina nervous. Prim had a habit of being taken advantage of, and Gina knew that there were folks ready to TAKE that advantage.

“So should we come back later so you can change back?”

Prim nodded her head slightly. Gina looked up and down along her body. Her proportions were human and she was on her hind legs, but her feet had slight claws on them and her hands, while human shaped, had pads on the fingertips and palms. The biggest difference was the sizeable tail that jutted from her tailbone. The whole thing had a slight shiny sheen to it.

“Ready to go?” Gina said, her eyes still drifting along her friend’s new body.

Prim nodded at bit harder this time with a slight smile across her muzzle. With that they both set out for the convention floor.

-----------------------------------------------------

The difference was almost immediate. When they were both coming in as normal people the crowd seemed thick and almost unwelcoming. With Prim in her LivingSkin, though, the whole crowd seemed to keep their distance out of reverence. Just by proximity to her Gina felt like she was revered like royalty. It made her even more uncomfortable, though it certainly made navigating the main hall easier. The tables and booths were the usual thing you’d expect at a convention. There were tables for LivingSkin artwork, LivingSkin clothing lines, LivingSkin literature. Off an adjacent room there were displays for LivingSkin subjects of a more personal nature, but both Gina and Prim agreed they wouldn’t go there.

Maybe only ten percent of the convention-goers were wearing LivingSkins. It was an expensive hobby, and most people couldn’t afford to own one of their own. When those that had them passed Gina and Prim by, the men (and sometimes females) ones would slow down a bit and stare lustily at Prim. Gina felt embarrassed for her at first, but when she looked over to see if Prim noticed she saw that their looks were being reciprocated. It was like she was an entirely different person. If Gina were honest the idea of her personality change was turning her on...

She felt out of place there, like she was an alien who got lost and ended up on another planet. It wasn’t the first time she felt this way. Prim had pretty much been her only constant friend throughout her time at school. College was supposed to be the time where she’d branch out and find new friends, but Gina always had a hard time doing that. Even Prim, who was just as cloistered as she was, seemed at ease here, and Gina couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous. It was just one day, though, so she’d just have to bear it for a few more hours.

They passed by the main stage in the middle of the hall. The room was well lit as it was, so there wasn’t any need for fancy lights or rigging. At the foot of the stage was a small booth. On it was a simple cardboard box with a slit at the top - some kind of drawing it looked like, and standing behind that was a woman in a rubber shark outfit and a two piece bikini. She smiled a broad, toothy grin at them.

“Well hello there ladies” she said “care to enter our exclusive contest? Only five dollars a ticket!”

“What’s it for?” Prim asked.

The shark woman raised her eyebrows suggestively.

“It’s a secret” he eyes darted back and forth between us “but since you two are here at this particular convention I can tell you that it’s definitely worth the price of admission.”

Gina shook her head and held her hand up dismissively.

“No thanks, we’re...”

“Oh come on Gina” Prim interrupted, a flash of daring in her eyes “it can’t hurt, right? I mean it’s just five dollars.”

Prim walked over to the desk and leaned over, allowing ample view of her behind to anyone who happened to be looking.

“O.k. just fill this out here...” the shark woman said.

Gina stayed back a few feet and watched the proceedings.

“So how long have you had your skin?” the shark woman asked.

“About two days.” Prim replied meekly.

The shark woman seemed surprised, or at least mock surprised. She seemed to be quite the showman.

“Is this your first time wearing it?” she tittered like it were gossip. Gina could tell by the way Prim’s head dipped down a bit that she was smiling.

“I wasn’t sure it was even going to come in in time for this. I already bought my tickets so.”

The shark woman’s smile got wider, her razor sharp teeth becoming more visible.

“So how was it?” she said in an almost whisper.

“What?” Prim said not looking up.

The shark woman leaned towards one of her ears on the top of her head.

“You know...putting it on for the first time.”

Gina couldn’t take it anymore.

“I’ve gotta hit the bathroom, alright?” she said, half aware the Prim knew she already went an hour ago “Just meet me outside when you’re done.”

Not waiting for a response, Gina turned around and walked quickly into the crowd. Her cheeks were beet red. She knew everyone noticed it too because while she weaved her way through the crowd she got sidelong glances and the occasional stare from suited and non-suited people alike. It felt like ages before she finally made it to the far wall and into the bathroom.

--------------------------------------------------

Twenty minutes later Gina was calm, cool, and collected. She didn’t understand why she was freaking out so much, but she felt better freaking out in the safety of a bathroom stall rather than on the convention floor. She thought she heard some light moaning in a stall two doors down, but she put it out of her mind as best she could.

Another few minutes passed and Gina heard the soft padding of footsteps coming into the bathroom.

“Gina?” the voice of her friend called out softly.

Gina didn’t answer. Maybe Prim would go away if she didn’t respond. A splash of guilt suddenly hit her, but before she could call out for her friend she heard a light sniffing sound waft over the stalls.

“Gina I can smell you. Come on, don’t hide from me” she said half pleading “I don’t know what’s wrong. Please can we just talk about it?”

Gina sighed and reached for the latch on the door. The door slowly drifted open and with a grunt Gina pushed herself off the seat. Stepping out of the stall, she saw her friend standing there, arms crossed underneath her grey, rubber-clad breast. She had a confused look, one that told Gina she really did care about what was bothering her. It would have helped if Gina understood it herself.

“There’s nothing wrong” she said putting on a smile “it’s just...”

Prim’s eyes narrowed.

“...You know what” Gina said waving her hand “its fine, never mind”.

Prim didn’t seem satisfied, but sighed and seemed to let it go all the same.

“Did you want to get out for a bit?” Prim said tilting her head “I could take off my suit for a bit and we could get--“

“No, we can stick around a bit.”

Now Gina felt bad. She knew how much this all meant to Prim, and her attitude was causing her friend to not enjoy herself. She had to think of something that would make Prim believe she wanted to be there.

“Want to grab something here” Gina said “It’s expensive, but it’s here so...”

Prim smiled slightly.

“How about after the drawing?” she said pointing with her thumb behind her towards the bathroom exit “That should be starting in I think like ten minutes?”

Gina walked towards her and Prim’s smile got broader. She pivoted on her padded feet. The wolf-suited girl couldn’t help but pant slightly in anticipation.

“But I’m buying” Gina said pointing at her “no more spending for you.”

---------------------------------------------------

Hundreds of people packed the area around the stage. Prim pushed their way through the crowd together to try and find as close a vantage point as possible. Gina followed close behind, but wasn’t eager to get in too close with the crowd. By the time they found a good spot, the show was already starting. The shark woman (who according to heather apparently went by the name “Sharky”) took the stage, carrying the box with her. It seemed like every step she took required a sway of the hips, which annoyed Gina but made the crowd go wild. Heather walked up to the microphone already on the stage and took it off the stand.

“Ladies and gentlemen -- or gentlecreatures I might say”

The crowd chuckled. Gina and Prim groaned.

“It’s the moment you’ve all been waiting for. For one lucky person this could be the greatest day of your life!”

It all seemed a bit hyperbolic to Gina, but the crowd ate it up.

“Now here we have our lovely box” she gestured eloquently towards the boxes on a stool behind her “and inside that box are hundreds of names you all submitted. The rules of the game are we draw one at random, and whoever’s name we draw gets to come back with us and receive a special prize.”

A chorus of oohs came from the audience.

“So without further ado...” she turned around and lifts the top off the box with the depost slit in it. She turns her pointed nose away and closed her eyes dramatically. Her fingers danced around in the box, she knew how to play her audience.

“And the winner is...” she plucks a slip of paper and unfolds it. She scans it quickly and smiles.

“...GINA MONROE!” she calls out waving the paper above her head.

For a split second Gina didn’t even process it, and then it hit her all at once. The crowd was waiting. They knew if the person wasn’t here they’d draw another name - maybe theirs. Gina felt the pressure and was frozen in place.

“But I...” she mumbled “I didn’t...”

She looked over at Prim who had a massive, shit eating grin on her face.

“You didn’t” Gina whispered.

Prim just nodded and gestured with her head for her to go up on the stage. The others in her immediate vicinity were starting to take notice of her shock and pegging her as the winner, but nobody said anything. They knew there might be a chance she wouldn’t take it.

“Gina Monroe” Sharky repeated “do we have a Gina Monroe in the house.”

“Right here” Gina said holding her hand limply up in the air.

Sharky didn’t notice her at first, but like a wave rippling outwards people turned to look at her. She held one of her clawed hands over her eyes, shielding them.

“That you down there?” She said.

She scanned the crowd until her eyes fell on Gina, and Gina knew she had no way out. She took a step forward, glancing one more time at Prim, then began to make her way through the crowd. A smattering of applause came, then more, and then the whole room was filled with the din of clapping hands (and paws). Gina’s heart fell into the pit of her stomach, but she kept walking anyways. By the time she reached the stairs up to the stage, the applause had died down by about half, and by the time she was on the stage it was gone. Gina suddenly felt all eyes of the room on her. She tried her best not to turn and look at them. Last thing she wanted to see was a pair of jealous eyes - or worse, a pair of jealous dragon eyes looking back at her.

“Congratulations Gina, congratulations...” the woman gestured for her to step closer.

Once Gina was close enough, the rubber-skinned woman wrapped a single dorsal-fringed arm around her shoulder. The smooth, firm texture of it made Gina shiver.

“So where’re you from Gina?” she turned the mic over to her.

Gina tried to speak, but at first it only came out as a gulp. Collecting herself, she cleared her throat and leaned in slightly towards the microphone.

“Uhhh...Minneapolis”

“Alright, let’s hear it for Minneapolis!”

The crowd gave an obligatory cheer. Before it was over Sharky turned back to her and practically pushed the mike in her face.

“You here with anyone?” she said.

“Yeah, my friend Prim, she’s...”

“Prim” Sharky suddenly called out “do we have a Prim here?”

She scanned the audience again, quickly spying Gina’s jumping, ecstatic friend in the crowd.

“Ooh, hey, I remember you” She said leaning back and pointing “How’re you liking your new skin so far?”

Prim gave enthusiastic thumbs up.

“Alright” Sharky said, suddenly turning back to Gina “real talk here. Are you excited to know what your prize is?”

“Yeah” she said flatly.

“You get to try on a never before seen, never released, never been worn model of LivingSkin’s new line of lifelike costumes!”

A smattering of oohs, cheers, and sporadic claps came from the audience. Questions like what kind of creature it was were far from Gina’s mind at that moment. Now she just stood dumbstruck, the center of attention of a crowd of people she didn’t want to be the center of attention of. Her chest felt tight. She makes motions to turn and walk off the stage when the rubbery arm wrapped around her again and pulled her the opposite way towards the edge of the stage. The arm uncoiled around her shoulder, making clear her cue to go towards the staircase on the other side of the stage instead. Waiting for her were a pair of people wearing laminated staff badges, goading her to come down and follow them.

“Alright, everybody, that’s it” she heard behind her followed by a series of awws “be sure and check out our special vendors, and remember to...”

Gina zoned the words out in her mind. Was that it? Was it as easy as that to get a LivingSkin costume? How could Prim do this to her? She couldn’t feel anything as another arm wrapped around her shoulder and guided her off.

--------------------------------------------------

The convention staff took her over to one of their changing rooms in the back. The light above the doors was green, meaning it was unoccupied. A man in a fox suit stood next to the door and eyed her body as she approached, making her feel uncomfortable.

“You our lucky winner?” he said, raising an eyebrow.

Gina nodded. Now that she was about to go into the changing room, a dozen questions sprang up in her head.

“So what exactly is this costume of?” she asked

“It’s a surprise” he said pitching his voice down.

Gina couldn’t stand the games anymore.

“Look, you need to tell me what this thing is or I’ll walk right now!”

The fox man held his hands up defensively.

“Hey hey hey hey hey, no need to be upset” he lowered his paws “it’s a matter of legality that we don’t reveal what the suit is until somebody’s wearing it, brand management, you know? So even if I wanted to I couldn’t”

Gina crossed her arms, putting on the best “attitude” she could.

“O.k., O.k.” he said, now pitching his voice up “you can go in and see it, and if you don’t want to wear it, you can just walk out, no harm no fowl.”

Gina sighed and made a motion for the door handle. She paused and turned back to the fox-man.

“Has this been, like, tested at all?”

“More or less” he shrugged “We haven’t had a human wear it yet, so basically you’re our first test subject”

He probably meant it as a joke, but he seemed to instantly realize the impact his remark had when Gina went slightly paler.

“It’s fine, we’ve run all the tests, outside of some possible emotional -- temporarily emotional changes it shouldn’t be a problem.”

The dismissive tone didn’t do much to soften her edge.

“Do I have to be naked?” she said.

“I’m afraid so” he said “I’m not sure why you wouldn’t want to be to be honest, makes the bonding a bit easier.”

The fox man tilted his head and narrowed his eyes, like he was seeing her discomfort for the first time.

“Is this your first time wearing a suit?” he asked half serious.

Gina pursed her lips and nodded her head. The fox-man gave a sympathetic smile.

“O.k. then, guess I’ll leave you to it. Your new suit’s inside there.” his smile grew “Enjoy!”

With a wave he turned and left. Gina didn’t move until he was fully out of the room. When she finally grabbed the door handle and pulled, she was caught off guard by how heavy the door was. Once she gave a little extra oomph, the door came slowly open. It quickly became apparent that the door would close automatically, so once it was open enough for her to enter, she slipped inside. Once she realized the lights weren’t already on she fumbled for a light switch against the wall behind her. By the time she found it the door had already come to a close with a satisfying thwump.

Her heart beat fast, half because of the sudden exertion, half because of curiosity over what her suit looked like. Slowly she turned around making sure her eyes were the last things to face the suit. When she saw it, her heart almost burst out of her chest.

It wasn’t an animal that was sure. Its skin was smooth and glossy, almost translucent in a way. She couldn’t quite pin down a color, it was kind of a greyish, but there were dark purple-ish veins weaving their way across the whole surface. Its figure was lean, wrapped around a dummy to accentuate its sumptuous, feminine curves. The suit’s breasts didn’t have nipples on them, and the crotch didn’t have a slit which she found odd. LivingSkin supposedly prided themselves on being “anatomically correct”. The hands had long digits, five - like a human’s - that ended in long, talon like claws. Trailing off from its voluptuous ass was a long, whip-like tail that ended in what looked like a stinger or a spear point. Of all its features, though, the most striking was the head mask. A cascade of tendril hair spilled out from the top, coming down past the shoulder blades like tentacles. The mouth had thick, plump lips, but they were parted slightly to reveal two rows of razor sharp teeth. The eyes were large black ovals and glossy, like the rest of the suit.

It only took Gina thirty seconds after seeing it to strip off all of her clothes and smack the red button next to the door with her palm. The light outside went to red meaning VERY much occupied, and a thunk meant the door’s locking mechanism was firmly in place ensuring no one would interrupt. At last she was alone, naked and staring at the living, alien costume that she could swear was staring right back at her.

[symbiotemasklover]

HERETIC: RESURRECTION [TRADE]

It was cold, that’s what I remember the most...about dying that is. I didn’t realize that was what was happening until after the fact, but Dr. Hayashi told me my heart had actually stopped beating for a while. When others ask me what it felt like to die, I can’t really describe it. There really wasn’t much else to it beyond being just cold and empty. I wouldn’t say it was unpleasant. Actually it was just...well, nothing. At the time it even felt kind of comforting. It wasn’t dark, though, that’s always hard to explain. There wasn’t any sort of “bright light” or whatever either. Maybe I wasn’t dead long enough for that or something. I make it sound good, but thinking about it now I wouldn’t say I’d want to go back to it, but at the time I wanted so bad to just let myself go. Luckily for me, the true armor had other things in mind.

The first thing to come back was the pain. It wasn’t a searing pain like when Haggard put his spear in my side. No, it was a dull pain, a throbbing pain, like my muscles had been twisted into a million little knots and left to atrophy. After that came the inflation, or at least what felt like inflation. I found out later that it was my cells rapidly regenerating. It felt really bad in my arm, but that was because all the skin and nerves had apparently been scorched off. Those same nerves were now weaving and knitting a network all throughout my new arm. I wish I could say it felt the same as my old one, but even now my new flesh feels a bit alien to me...

Then I heard the voices.

“Hey Joe! Get a load of this chick. Tell the EMTs to bring a stretcher around!”

I didn’t recognize the voice. To me it sounded kind of far away, like it was from another room. Someone said something back to the guy, but I couldn’t make it out. The only words I COULD make out were “charcoal” and “easy on the eyes”.

“Are they talking about me?” I kept wondering to myself. Dr. Hayashi said some EMT’s had gotten close to me, but I couldn’t tell you if those were the voices or not.

I didn’t wonder for very long though, because that was when it started happening. At first it was kind of warm feeling, like a pool of warm water was pooling and sinking into my skin. I don’t know what it was, some kind of energy from the true armor was Hayashi’s best guess. In a sense it felt like I was having life pumped back into me. Once the “energy” reached my heart I could feel it start to beat again. At first it was slow, painful, like something was trying to burst its way out of my chest. The rhythm settled a bit, and all of a sudden I could feel the blood start to flow through my veins again. It was like fire surging through my arteries. I could feel the power and energy filling me up like a balloon.

My sense of touch returned and I felt the touch of somebody placing their fingers against the side of my neck. I had the urge to swat the hand away, but I still couldn’t move my arm. Besides, that touch was the last thing on my mind in that moment.

The pieces of my true armor began to vibrate slowly against my body, almost like they were reacting to the energy build-up within me. It felt good...REALLY good. The electric shockwaves it sent through my body only seemed to accelerate whatever process was going on. The vibrations soon became more intense, like the armor was going to crush me. All at once, I felt the energy erupt from my pores, like a volcano spewing molten magma. I’ve had it described to me like I was engulfed in a sphere of flaming light, like golden particles were engulfing me, but it was more than that. It was like every part of me was healing, not just my body but my mind too. The cold and the darkness seemed to melt away and retreat and all that was left in the universe was me and the true armor.

I felt the armor melt, sending its tendrils snaking along my body. It was different than before. Every other time it felt like it was clinging to me, forcing itself to adhere to my biology. As its alien metal wormed its way into my skin and caressed my breasts and womanhood I felt a kind of intimacy I’d never felt before in my life. I shuddered, then shuddered again. It felt like the embrace of a lover, like the boundaries between our physical bodies was evaporating and reforming into something new. Becoming one is the cliché phrase I guess, but it truly did feel like that. When I rose from the ground and stood tall, it wasn’t the suit controlling me, and it wasn’t entirely me either. We were synced, one mind, one body. It told me that I needed to get up, that there was work we needed to do that it couldn’t do alone.

When my eyes finally opened, one eye stared out through the remains of the visor, while my other eye was open to the world. My armor was still re-asserting itself across my body. When I looked down, though, it wasn’t like it was before. It looked like the metal was glowing, like it was filled with the energy that was within me. The diodes along my suit weren’t blue or red - they were gold.

Just as my armor was intertwining with my fingers, my sense of the world around me suddenly came rushing back. The flames which had engulfed part of my body were now larger and hotter than ever. I felt a sensation from my companion that everything was going to be fine. To assure me further it compressed slightly around my body, forming the plates that made my outer shell. Material gathered around my mouth, and without even thinking I opened my mouth and allowed it to enter. It was more sensuous than any kiss, but I knew I couldn’t bask in it. My hearing was the next thing to return, and the lumbering sound of Haggard crashing in front of me almost immediately caught my attention.

He saw me then, barely I think. I think there was something more than my resurrection that seemed to frighten him...must have been something in my eyes. For a moment he didn’t even move, he was fixated on me, one part fascinated, two parts terrified out of his fucking mind. I could feel in the air the panic and the distress as he fumbled for something, anything he could do to halt my advance. I already knew, though, that he couldn’t do anything to stop me. Knowing that, I smiled a vicious smile, ready to justify his terror.

Eyes set to the task, I stepped forward and brought out my blades. I wasn’t going to let him hurt anyone anymore. I took a step, then another step. You might have expected my legs to feel heavy at this point...no, no I guess not. Now that you know everything else the boding did it’s probably as unsurprising to you as it was for me. I felt lighter than I’d ever felt, every movement effortless like I was gliding. I could hear the gasps and exclamations of those nearby, and all they did was to urge me further with my purpose. The remains of my visor mended themselves, enhancing my vision tenfold. With my head finally encased and a thirst for justice flowing through every inch of us, we were finally one. If I had to pick a moment when I truly became the Heretic, both without AND within, that would be it.

[symbiotemasklover]

RESURGENCE (ART TRADE)

The war against the Corpus was over. Once the ash of the final battle settled, humanity emerged from the carnage victorious. After decades of hard struggle, the seemingly endless conflict had come to an end. All across human occupied space people celebrated for weeks on end. For the first time in its entire history humanity was united out of mutual happiness instead of strife. As is often the case with peace time, many believed that the worst was finally behind them. Mankind had entered an unprecedented era of peace and tranquility.

Linda could not have been more bored by this.

It’s not like she “enjoyed” humanity’s suffering or anything - they were her species after all. All the same, she couldn’t help but feel that all the purpose in her life had come from the war, and without it what was she? All her meaning came from studying the enemy, and now that that enemy was gone what was she going to do? She’d been working at the United Planet’s research lab for as long as she’d been old enough to work - which was a long, long time. Everyone who grew up during the war had their job chosen for them at twelve based on a government sanctioned aptitude test. It was a crude system, but an effective one in Linda’s case. After all, not everyone liked the jobs they ended up with, but her special interests made her occupation not only ideal but desirable.

She worked in biology division - basically the place that studied what made the Corpus tick. Some people found her enthusiasm a bit off putting. She didn’t care. Where others saw monsters, she saw beauty, and when others avoided contact, she got closer. Her social interactions were minimal, but when she did venture out of the lab she tended to turn people off within minutes of speaking to them.

“Aren’t the Corpus just fascinating!” she’d expound “I mean, when you think about it what they do is a physical impossibility! Instantaneous communication with every member of their species! Telepathy! Can’t you see how fascinating that is!?”

That would usually be the point where her peers would nod their head and find some excuse to get away. She didn’t care, as long as she had her Corpus corpses she always had a place where she could feel at home. There was just something about them she couldn’t put into words. It must have been something about their sleek, malleable bodies. She figured she had some sort of fetish, but she rarely had time to think about stuff like that. After all, work called, and no one seemed to want to have sex with her anyways.

She did feel lonely at times though, there was no denying that. On certain nights when she spent the wee hours of the morning on her own, she’d yearn for a measure of meaningful contact with...something. She’d never had many close friends, even when she was a kid. Recently, though, she’d resigned herself to the fact that this was just the way she was going to live. With the war over, the people who tolerated her probably wouldn’t have much use for her anymore. Funding would probably dry up and she and the rest of her co-workers will be shipped back to habitat worlds to live out the rest of their mundane lives in ordinary, safe, less exciting jobs.

To that end, Linda spent a good chunk of her time sitting out on the air-stip, watching the military men load and unload the hulking, metal transport vessels. They came in every evening, and left the next morning with the sunrise. Whenever someone would look at over at her, she’d smile and wave enthusiastically. Most of them would just give her a confused look and keep going with what they were doing. The on-site psychologist said she needed to act happier if she wanted to be happier, but all it seemed to do was drive people away.

The sun had set an hour ago, and the high powered floodlights gave the place an eerie, greenish look. Linda got bored of waiting and decided to get some snacks from the mess before it closed. She heard that the cooks were getting rid of perishables before the big bug out, though she couldn’t remember from whom she heard it from. She wasn’t sure they would give them to her either, but figured it was at least worth a shot.

As soon as she moved to push herself off the box she was on, one final transport ship sounded its approach horn. She looked up and saw the thing descended from the sparsely clouded sky quickly towards the airstrip. Normally this wouldn’t be of much interest to her - she never liked the crude, groaning flying machines anyways. This time, though, she couldn’t help but notice that some people started yelling as this craft descended. Soon the ship was crowded by dozens upon dozens of men and women all craning to get a good look.

Never one to miss out on something to break the boredom, Linda pushed herself off the box she sat on and made her way down to the crowd. Once she arrived, she tapped the nearest person to her on the shoulder.

“What’s going on?” she said.

“They’re bringing in the queen!” The guy said without turning.

“Really?” she said trying to hide her bubbling excitement.

“Yeah, I hear they found her body in the wreckage of their main hive. Lucky too, the other drones around her weren’t dead yet so we thought she’d attack us if we got close”

The guy kept going like this, but Linda had already wandered away. She knew it was kind of hypocritical to say, but she hated when people went on about things she didn’t care about. Besides, she needed to find a place she could get a good look. No matter how she tried to penetrate the crowd, though, nobody seemed to want to give up their spot. Suddenly the murmurs grew louder as something came off the back of the ship on a sealed gurrney. She wanted - no, needed to see it, why hadn’t anybody told her about this? This was exactly her prevue. She figured she could deal with that later, but for the moment her only priority was seeing this thing...whatever it was.

Before she managed to worm her way through the crowd, the gurney and escort had disappeared into a nearby building. Linda’s heart dropped. That was the restricted building, the only place on the base she wasn’t authorized to go. She figured she could have gotten in there anyways, but her lack of authorization meant she was probably not going to be involved with whatever they were doing with it.

The crowd dissipated, many forgetting the hubbub almost instantly, the rest not caring. Not Linda, though...this was the first interesting thing to happen in a long time. Problem was now she wasn’t invited to the proverbial party. She had to find a way to see it, just a little bit. It would be the perfect capper to what for her had been a long and distinguished career. How on earth could anybody say no to that?

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“No, Dr. Irving, absolutely not” Colonel Robertson said slaming his fist into his desk.

“Why?” Linda sighed, exasperated.

The colonel rubbed his large bald spot, searching for the right words to say.

“It’s on a need to know basis, and you don’t need to know.”

Linda wasn’t satisfied. Not only was his answer a cliché, but it did nothing to curtail her curiosity.

“I just need to see it, Colonel” she said “I’ve spent most of my life studying these creatures and if you don’t let me see the fucking queen when she’s practically hand delivered to me...”

The colonel put up his hand and she stopped talking.

“I don’t know what your thing is with these things, and frankly I don’t want to know. All I know is research will cost money, and no government body in their right mind would sink money into researching and enemy we’ve already beaten.”

“That you think we’ve beaten...”

“They’re beaten, Dr. Irving” Colonel Roberts said firmly “any thoughts to the contrary are the purvue of madmen and conspiracy theorists. SO tell me, would you like me to go over the data again with you or should I just handle the Petabytes of covert info so you can find the holes yourself?”

Linda gritted her teeth. She knew he was right, there was no way any one person could go over all those reports and data themselves. Everyone said the Corpus were dead, and maybe it was just her desire for them that made her think this way but she figured there wasn’t any reason to think an entire alien species with that kind of reach could be so easily destroyed.

“Just let me look at it, just an hour or two” she pleaded.

“No” the colonel said shaking his head “and that’s my final answer.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sky was pitch black. Linda sat on the edge of her bed, the lights of the base spilling through the window. Her head was bowed down, and her heads were planted on the sides of her head. Her eyes darted back and forth, weighing the consequences of her actions against the very possible rewards. If she was found out, she’d be court marshalled and jailed for sure...but the thought of studying the queen was too sweet and too tempting to ignore completely.

She was going to do it - or rather she felt like she had to. Standing up she made her way out the door, bringing her clearance badge and lab coat with her. She needed to make the ruse convincing if she was going to make it. These men were thick, they wouldn’t be too hard to fool. Security had gotten lax since the end of the war.

The complex was made up of a maze of research modules and hallways. She figured the queen was in the main one at the center, so that’s where she went. She knew these hallways like the back of her hand, so she went from room to room, using the underground passages that connected them to make her way. When she emerged from one of them she came to a large donut shaped atrium that surrounded a smaller room in its “hole”. Standing at the only door into the hole were two guards. She approached them quickly, making sure to look like she was supposed to be there. She gave a pleasant smile and nodded at one of them, which made them eye her suspiciously.

She made for the card reader and swiped her pass, when the rejection signal blared, she gave an exaggerated frown. She swiped again, same results. She leaned over to one of the guards.

“Excuse me” she said in as innocent a voice as she could muster “my security clearance isn’t working, could I use yours? I just left something in the lab earlier when I helped bring the specimen in.”

She was lucky, she’d seen this guy before...and he’d seen her too. He looked at her from across the mess hall all the time. She realized now he must have had a bit of a crush on her. Typical she figures this out now. Without anything more than a blush, he pulled out his own card and swiped it. The light turned green and the door rose almost faster than she could see it. She’d never gotten used to that. There wasn’t a contamination checkpoint here like most research rooms, another sign of the facility’s lack of proper security. They were so sure the threat was gone, but Linda knew better. Once she stepped inside, the door slammed shut behind her with a clang and pneumatic hiss. For a moment Linda was left in total darkness.

Suddenly, an electric thunk and hum of large lights came on, illuminating the whole room in a dull fluorescent glow. Linda’s eyes were instantly drawn to the display dais in the center of the room...and there it was, just lying there. It’s black, insect like carapace was flecked with hints of red - red like blood. It’s hollow, black eyes didn’t seem to let anything in or out. You could never tell what the Corpus were thinking when you looked at them. She was amazed at how human it looked. In fact, curled up as it was it looked almost like a female human save for its skin and slightly misshapen head.

“What a beautiful thing you are...” She whispered.

She stepped towards it, a look of reverence in her eyes. She’d dreamed of this moment all of her teen and adult life. Every second brought her closer and closer to her heart’s desire. As often happens when one’s heart’s desire comes true, things she never thought you’d say came up.

“You know there where nights where I sincerely wished I could be you.”

She didn’t know where that came from, but it felt right to say. It was then that she noticed that the skin was shifting slightly. She’d heard of the Corpus’ ability to morph and shape their bodies, but had never seen it up close. All the specimens she saw were dead, and when they died their skins went rigid and inflexible. That knowledge coupled with what she was seeing meant only one thing...this thing was alive. What’s more, its skin seemed to be shifting more and more as she got closer.

A sudden fear struck her. Was this thing reacting to her? She took a step backwards, preparing to turn and run in an instant. As soon as her foot took that step, the queen began to rise from the floor. It shuddered a few times as it grew more and more erect. She realized quickly that she was frozen in place, watching as the writhing insectoid looking woman rose and stood on its own two feet. It’s black, pitiless eyes looking straight into hers. Linda had to move, she had to sound the alarm. She knew in her heart, though, that she’d never reach the door before the monster in front of her killed her.

Just as she was about to make a run for it, the queen turned its back to her. Linda furrowed her brow in confusion. What was it doing? Why wasn’t it attacking her? The queen, with its back facing her, suddenly twitched. The spasm caused it to quiver again and again. Slowly, the back of its body opened, revealing a wiggling, slimy bed of blood red tentacles. Once it came fully apart, the legs opened as well, revealing the same. That’s when the second realization hit...she was hollow.

An excitement rose in her breast. The true nature of these creatures was now wholly apparent. They weren’t sentient beings in and of themselves...they were suits!  More accurately they were exo-skins that facilitated the hive mind they already knew and understood. When the enemy started appearing humanoid, it wasn’t to counter the human advance, it was because they were filled with the bodies of captured humans. They were fighting themselves. She figured the higher-ups must have known about this, and she couldn’t comprehend how they were able to keep this a secret from the rest of humanity for so long. This must have been the original skin, the one that was the center of all the others. The rest of the scientists didn’t know what they had, and didn’t know the danger of letting this thing continue to exist posed.

She wondered why it didn’t open up before, surely there were other people it encountered along the way that would have made suitable hosts. It was then that the third realization came over her...it wanted her to wear it, and it wanted her to wear it because it could sense the she WANTED to wear it. Watching the tentacles writhe and beg for her body made her lower muscles quiver. Her breaths became haggard. She tried to fight the notion but knew that she couldn’t. She would wear that thing, and she would become the new queen.

At that thought she threw off her lab coat and unbuttoned her blouse. It was waiting for her -- they were waiting for her. She had been chosen to be their mother, and she would take that role on with relish. Her pants were next, she knew she needed to be naked, she could just feel it. As she fumbled the queen-skin waited for her patiently. As her panties finally hit the ground, she barely had time to stand up straight before the first tentacle lashed out.

It wrapped itself around her right wrist, then another burst free and snatched her left wrist. It tugged at her, urging her to come closer. Her bare feet felt cold on the tile floor, but she didn’t care. A smile spread across her face. Another two tentacles lashed out, this time around her ankles. They lifted her off the ground, holding her above the opening.

She barely noticed the tentacle slither up to her exposed womanhood, but as the tip of it brushed up against her folds a shiver went through her body. Sensing it found the right place, the serpent plunged in, forcing her walls apart and filling her womb with itself. A sudden shock went through her body. She could see everything, her mind went out and she could see through the eyes of countless other suited creatures. She realized they weren’t all dead like the military believed. Her revelation was mixed with ripples of ecstasy. With how quick she came to orgasm she realized just how long it had been since she had sex. In the still thinking part of her mind, she rationalized that this was worth the wait. After all it felt like the whole hive was fucking her now.

She could feel them...all of them, scattered out there in the vastness of the universe. They were her brood, her children. Humanity was foolish for rejecting the beauty that this symbiosis afforded. She was going to show them. She was going to show them all just how much better life could be when they chose to become one with the suits. If they wouldn’t join, she would just have to extinguish them so that her sons and daughters wouldn’t suffer. The individual humans seemed so insignificant to her now, like ants underneath her soon to be clawed feet. Compared to her their desire for individuality and self-purpose seemed so silly and small.

Just as her ecstasy was subsiding, there was a sudden yank. Her whole body lurched forward, pulled quickly towards the gaping maw of the open suit. As soon as her skin touched the bed of tentacles, her mind seemed to split open with absolute pleasure. They massaged her, entered her, merged with her. She didn’t feel her body anymore, there was only the Corpus writhing within her being. The back closed shut with a squelch, sealing her inside forever. The slightly overlarge mask forced itself over her face, its insides entering her mouth, nose, and ears. It felt like it was crushing her...no, embracing her. Her old self seemed to melt away, giving way to her newer, more glorious self.

Her sight was the first thing to return. She looked down at herself. Her skin seemed to undulate and shift constantly, and she could feel it. She examined her newer, more beautiful, more voluptuous body. She looked at her firm, round ass and felt that something was missing. As if to answer her thought, the mass at the end of her tailbone shifted and a long, serpentine tail erupted and wormed its way out. The end of her new tail had what looked like a spear on the end of it. Before she could truly finish admiring herself, the door of the room opened and the guards ran in, reacting to the sudden noise. She didn’t realize how little time the transformation had taken. Time must pass differently to her. She barely had to think before her lithe body spun around and sprinted for the guards. Before they could even raise their guns, she morphed her right hand into a black blade and thrust it into his heart. Blood gushed out all over her, and her skin seemed to absorb it and imbibe its strength. Her spear-like tail struck the other guard the same way without her even looking. The penetration made her giggle. She looked at the guard’s face, the guard that had fancied her so much just minutes before.

“Who’s fucking who now” she thought with a hint of rage.

Her lack of mouth made her giggling imperceptible to her victims. All they heard was a sound of insect chittering. Psychically, though, her thoughts were shared instantly with the rest of her hive. Almost immediately a host of similar giggles returned to her. She loved her children, she had to make more. The cameras must have spotted her, because the alarm suddenly blared signifying a containment breach. She knew they couldn’t stop her, though. She was more than they were now. Soon they would see the joy and beauty of becoming one with her. They had to see it. Nothing would stop her from spreading herself across the galaxy.

The Corpus resurgence has begun...

.

[symbiotemasklover]

MASK OF THE BLACK CAT - Chapter 3

*Ding dong* The notes hang there. Dan waits, not sure if anyone is home much less the person he’s looking for. He leans back to look around the shrub and sees the garage door is closed. He looks back and can’t see any cars in the driveway. His eye is drawn along the streets at the other houses, all of them made with the same red brick as the one he’s in front of. He isn’t even sure this is the right house number, considering it was nearly two years since April lived here. Footsteps land on what sounds like a wooden floor inside and a figure passes in front of the fogged up glass to the right of the doorframe for a brief second. Dan hears the latch on the door coming off and the lock on the doorknob click. Before he can think to walk away, the knob turns. The person on the other side opens the door part way, enough so that her whole body is visible. She plants her elbow on the doorframe and leans slightly. The woman looks to be in her mid-twenties. He body is skinny and her skin pale. Her hair is stringy, black, and spilling down to her shoulders. Her clothes are entirely black from neck to toe, and affixed on the left hand side of her nose is a single, shiny silver stud. She looks at Dan, and Dan looks at her. The look is apparently enough for her to glean why he’s there, because she smiles broadly, though she doesn’t show her teeth. “She went ahead and did it, didn’t she?” she said, a hint of triumph dripping from her voice. Dan tries to think of a response, but coming up with nothing he just nods. She opens the door wider and motions with her hand for him to come inside. He does so quickly and she closes it behind him. “Kitchen’s just ahead” she said trying to seem hospitable “just sit down and I’ll be right there.” Dan almost turns to speak to her, but finds she’s already moved towards the far side of the hall. Falling on all fours she scurries up the nearby staircase while Dan watches. Once she disappears and Dan hears a door close, he looks around the little foyer. The house seems normal enough, though Dan figures it’s probably because of her roommates rather than her. Jen lives with two others - one of whom used to be April. She went to the same college he and April did and was April’s friend from childhood. April’s parents didn’t approve of her when they became friends in high school, but couldn’t stop them from being together in college. Eventually they relented and let them live together. They’d been friends ever since, though not as much when April moved out. Dan walks down a narrow hallway until he reaches the simple kitchen on the backend of the townhouse. He sits himself at the small wooden table and waits. He can hear fumbling upstairs, like Jen is looking for something. Dan can only imagine what that thing might be. A sudden, muffled moan comes from above him. Dan starts to get worried, but before he has enough time to think about it he hears a door open - the same one he heard close earlier. The footsteps that come downstairs are slower, more deliberate than before. Dan’s jaw drops when he sees who it is stepping into the kitchen: a voluptuous, blue skinned woman, with scales of darker blue arranged in a pattern all over her naked skin. Her hair is a bright, unnatural looking orange, and her eyes seem to burn yellow. It was Mystique from the X-Men movies - or at least she looks like her. When she sees his dumfounded expression she smiles wryly. “Don’t mind me, I just like to put on a little something for my guests.” In her right hand is a brown paper bag that seemed to be weighed down by...something. She places it down on the table and sat down across from him. Her movements are slow and deliberate, a measured sexuality in every action. Her eyes seem to pierce into his, and her smile levels him, making his pants suddenly feel slightly tighter... “You like this?” she says glancing down at herself “I was only going to put it partially on, but the suit has a way of getting what it wants.” Dan feels the soles of her feet massage against his leg. Her eyes remain fixed on his. “That’s the thing with these costumes” she says in a half moan “Once you start putting them on, you can’t help yourself from going all the way.” “J-Jen?” Dan stutters. Mystique removes her foot from his leg, and sits normally. Her fingers go behind her head and dig in. She grunts, losing the sexy façade she’d put on. To Dan it looks like she’s peeling off her own skin. As the features to crumple, Jen’s own hair starts to spill out. With a rubbery snap, the mask of the Mystique suit detaches from her face and hangs limply on top of her round, firm breasts. Left there is Jen’s own, pale face, smiling and panting. “So” she says between breaths “what’d she end up picking?” Dan is overwhelmed. He can barely process what’s going on before him, only that the process has turned him on. After a few seconds, he comes to his senses and her question suddenly registers. “B-black Cat” he sputters. Jen smirks “Figures, the insecure ones always go with Black Cat as their first costume.” “First...costume?” Jen’s smile grows even wider. “Do you believe in magic Dan?” She says showing her teeth fully for the first time. The question catches him off guard. The thought certainly passed through his head, but he had tried to rationalize it as just some elaborate prank. Seeing Jen in a transformative bodysuit from the neck down, though, had thrown all his other theories out the window. “I don’t know what to...” he mutters “O.K., what the hell is going on?” He exclaims more decisively. It’s then that he notices that Jen’s attention isn’t entirely on him. Her eyes are half closed, and her panting becomes heavier and more sensuous. Her fingers start tapping the table impatiently. Jen sees that Dan has noticed and looks him in the eye. “Hold on” she says raising her finger and then grabbing the sides of the mask “I have to put this back on. The costume is still on me, and it really wants to be worn.” She pulls open the back of the head of the mask and starts to pull it towards her own. “Wants?” Dan says just as her face is about to meet the opening “What do you mean wants?” Jen pauses and pulls her face out. She looks at Dan, seemingly half annoyed at the interruption. “I mean it’s not really alive” she sighs “but they definitely have a personality of their own. Kind of make you do things you wouldn’t normally do.” Without another word, she stretches the back of the mask wide open and practically slams her face into it. Immediately the back snaps closed behind her head and she moans louder than ever. The eyes of the mask, which were closed when she pulled it off, open slowly, taking a moment to focus forward. Her blue lips open, and a slow, satisfied intakes of breath follow. “Soooo...” Mystique says cocking her head to the side slightly “did she fuck you while she was wearing it?” Dan hesitates, but lets out a “yeah” under his breath. “Good for her. She’s had the hots for you for fucking ages.” She says the last few words like that was anguish for her rather than April. “She wasn’t April though” Dan says shaking his head. Mystique looks at him hard, suddenly serious. She leans forward, resting on her elbows on the table and squeezing her own breasts between her upper arms. Just then, a ripple appears at the top of her head. As the ripple spills down over Mystique’s face, April’s hair spills out from the gap, followed by her eyes, nose, and mouth, stopping just at the neck. “Ever think it may have just been a side of her you haven’t seen before” she says with a mocking imitation of April’s voice. Dan glanced down at this, his teeth clenching. He blushes. “How long is she going to be wearing that costume?” He finally says. A wave of ripples appears at the neck again and works it’s way up. In a flash, April’s features are gone, and Mystique returns. “Don’t know” Mystique says shrugging “some never do.” Dan looks up at her, startled. “Well, you took off your costume? What’s stopping her” Mystique’s eyes zone out for a moment, like she’s reminiscing. Her mouth hangs open, like the memory is both pleasurable and painful. “I had my first costume on for over a month” she says, putting on her normal voice for a split second “It varies from person to person.” “Varies from --“ Dan says, exasperated. He leans back in the chair, suddenly aware of how awkward the situation is with Mystique’s confidence temporarily gone. It’s then that he spies the paper bag on the table, and realizes what’s probably in it. “What if I take it off of her myself?” he says “As you are?” Mystique says incredulous “Not likely. Why do you want to, though. I mean...she’s happy, right?” “What if I had a costume...” He blurts out suddenly “like hers?” At this Mystique pauses, and for a moment they look at each other silently. She then flashes a broad, toothy grin. “I thought you’d never ask.” She reaches into the bag and draws out what looks like a black full-head mask. Where the eyes would have been are white, teardrop shaped patches, and where the mouth would be there’s a gaping maw from ear to ear filled with white, razor-sharp teeth. It was a Venom mask. “My first costume” Mystique says raising her eyebrows. She hands the mask over to him. It feels like rubber in his hands. “You have to swear to bring it back, though.” She says pointing her finger at him “I know these costumes can be a little...addictive.” Her eyes seem to light up on that last word. Dan barely listens to her. His eyes are transfixed on the mask. It looks a bit too feminine for him, like it was tailor-made for her. When he becomes aware of Mystiques gaze, he quickly stuffs the mask back into the bag. “Don’t worry, I’ll get it back” he says with forced confidence. He pushes his chair back, stands, and snatches the string handles of the bag. As he lifts it, and notices that it’s heavier than before. He glances into the bag again, but can’t see anything else in it. Without looking back he steps quickly down the hallway. With his free hand he reaches for the knob on the door and turns it. “Hold on a sec” Mystique calls out to him. He stops in his tracks, door partially open, and turns around to face her. She sighs and rubs her hand along her own face. “Look, I know to you this seems pretty serious and all, but when it comes to these costumes...just don’t be afraid to have a bit of fun with it, O.K.? That’s what they’re for, you know” Dan’s eyes narrow, not sure what to say. Deciding not to say anything he turns and walks through the door. --------------------------------------------- Black Cat lets the jewels in her hand dribble through her fingers like a waterfall. Each clink and clatter as they crash into each other onto a pile on the bed sounds distinct and pleasurable as they are to look at. Her perfect white teeth gleam along with them. On the back of her chair is her black, fur lined body suit. She herself sits on her bunched up sheets completely nude...save for her mask still fixed firmly around her eyes. Her white hair is mussed and draped down over her shoulders. “Who knew breaking into a safe would be so easy” She muses to herself as the last diamond falls from her grasp. She raises her arms high above her head and presses her palms into the air, grunting as her muscles stretch. She looks down at her haul and spies one of them - a particularly large diamond with two dozen facets. She pinches it between her thumb and forefinger and lifts it up for a better view. In each of the faces she can see herself. She turns her head to look at herself - her first look in the mirror since putting the suits on a few days ago.   “I look so perfect...” she mumbles. Her other hand makes its way, almost unconsciously to her exposed crotch. “So perfect...” she repeats, hypnotized. Her fingers trace lines around the edges of her folds, slipping in as if they were pulled in by a whirlpool. The pressure built fast, and her rubbing grows more and more intense. Her mouth drops open, and she drops the jewel in her hand back onto the pile. Her chest heaves, and her mouth slowly nudges on a wicked smile. “Man, if I keep wearing this I’ll never get any slee...OHHHH!” Her jaw drops and the rippling pulsations of her pelvic muscles rock her body. She allows herself to topple backwards, her head landing with a loud *whomp* on her pillow. Thirty seconds of squirming and chuckling leaves her on her back and breathing heavily. Her ample chest rises and falls with smooth motions. She smiles. “Alright, time for me to get a little shut eye.” It feels to her like she’s in a dream, but the alarm in her mind is going off telling her to wake up. The dream lasts just a moment longer, and then sense starts to creep into the edges of her brain. First she brings one hand up to the face, feeling around the seam where the mask meets the skin. Digging her fingers in, she tries to find someplace where it’ll give, but can’t seem to find it. She sighs in frustration and brings her other hand up to pry at the other side. There’s a brief second where she thinks the mask might be permanently stuck to her face, but that feeling dissipates as one of her fingers finally finds an entry point. She pulls and soon the other fingers start to aid the separation. As more of the mask peels from around her eyes, she feels a tingle, then a crushing sensation as her toned, hard muscles start to wither and sag, sinking into her old ones as if they were never there. The roots of the wig wiggle their way out of her scalp. The process doesn’t feel unpleasant, but she finds it more difficult than the first time. She wonders whether it’s a side effect of wearing it for too long... Her dissipating strength seems to allow the mask to start to re-assert itself, but she gives one last hearty, groaning tug, and with a snap, the last of the mask separates from the bridge of her nose. Her mouth hangs open and her eyes close as the last of Black Cat melts away from her mind and body alltogether. She’s April again - plain old, ordinary April... Immediately all the physical and emotional exhaustion of the past day and a half washes over her like a wave, carrying her mind away from her in the tide. Her arms collapse onto the bed with the mask still gripped in her hand and wig still on her head. She passes out almost instantly. --------------------------------------------- Doubt floods Dan’s mind as soon as he lifts his cargo out of the bag. He’s not sure whether it’s just his imagination or if it’s yet another “feature” of the mask, but in the time between Jen showing it to him and him driving home it seems to have changed just ever so slightly. Instead of the sleek and feminine shape it now seems bulkier, more aggressive looking. Green slime drips from the thing’s fanged jowls, and a shallow pool of the stuff has formed in the bottom of the bag. Its texture seems different too. Instead of the solid rubber texture it had before it now feels soft, almost gooey to the touch but still keeping its solid form. Turning the mask over Dan sticks is hand in the slit in the back and finds the inside sticky. Thick strands of mask affix themselves to his hand as he withdraws it out, snapping off after a vigorous shake of his hand. “This is crazy” he thinks to himself “why am I doing this?” Placing the mask carefully on the table, Dan steps back, grabs the bottom of his shirt, and lifts it up. Jen never told him anything about taking his clothes off, but considering the costume he’s about to wear he figures it’s probably better to be safe than sorry. He doesn’t admit it to himself, but a spark of excitement bursts in his mind as he feels to air on his chest and looks again at the mask. Unbuttoning his jeans he pulls them down and off, one leg at a time, leaving him in nothing but his underwear. The fabric surrounding his crotch begins to bulge. He grabs the mask off the table with two hands and lifts it up, looking into its eye patches. It feels like the thing is looking right at him, waiting for him to put it on. Its mouth seems to curl slightly into a vague mockery of a smile. Taking in a deep breath Dan turns the mask about and pulls the back of it open. It’s pitch black inside, and even as Dan draws it closer and closer to his own face he still can’t see anything resembling features on the inside surface. The outside world recedes as his face meets the opening. Almost immediately he can feel thick strands of mask pawing at his face, sticking and pulling the mask on more and more. Now halfway on his face, Dan has a flash of fear and numerous second thoughts trickle their way in. As he makes a motion to pull the mask away and it doesn’t obey, he realizes it’s too late. The mask asserts itself over his head, clamping down against the back of his head and plunging his face into the semi-liquid membrane. Dan claws lightly at the neckline and finds that it’s already fused with his own skin. What’s more, he can feel thick globular tentacles already climbing down his shoulders and chest. He fumbles to pull off his underwear, letting his raging erection flop out at full mast. He tosses the garment away just in time to feel a large mass of goo force itself between his lips and into his mouth and throat. He barely even notices the symbiote entwining with his muscles as they bulge and reshape themselves. An identity nudges its way into his mind - Venom. The last thing Dan feels before the first shudders and contractions is the sensation of the wet, rubbery material slithering down around his crotch.

[symbiotemasklover]

Symbiotic Love - Prologue

From beneath his living mask, Raza looked through the vent. The room was sterile, plain; it made him feel sick, but every time he thought to turn around his other insisted that he needed to be there. White squares of linoleum tile carpeted the floor from eggshell wall to eggshell wall. The roof tiles were nothing more than loosely fitted foam which reverberated with the rumble of the air conditioning. A simple wooden desk was situated on the far end of the room, and behind that to Raza’s left was a metal door, affixed to the wall with so many strange latches and technological safeguards along its frame that it stood out sorely in the otherwise sparse room. Nodding off behind the desk was a heavy set man with a white button down shirt, a black tie, and a baseball cap with the words “security” stitched into the fabric. Attached to his left breast pocket was a laminated badge, confirming his position.

Raza felt his second skin tighten around his body. Feelings of fear and urgency flooded his mind, but Raza kept his breathing calm. His chest rose and fell with each deliberate breath, and the emotional torrent soon subsided. Four hours of waiting had left him anxious and eager to make his move. The metal walls of the ventilation shaft felt too close and constricting for his comfort. His pronounced musculature wasn’t a problem considering how large the shaft was, but any restriction and confinement made his other nervous, even the promise of the room below couldn’t hold back its primal fear.

There was a sudden click, followed by a hiss. Almost immediately the guard woke up, straightening himself up and flattening his wrinkled shirt against his bulging stomach. A series of thunks and whirs followed, and those noises were soon replaced by a single, long, groan as the metal door swung open slowly on its hinges. As soon as the opening was large enough for someone to fit through, someone did - a woman, tall but thin as a rail. Her white lab coat obscured any sense of form on her body, but Raza could detect by the way she moved that the garment was far too large for her. There were noticeable bags under her eyes, and those eyes were glazed over in a fixed expression of exhaustion. Her stringy blonde hair was in shambles all around her face. She probably hasn’t slept in days.

Instinct told Raza to go now. It was only two people, he wouldn’t have any problem dealing with them. He did his best to force these thoughts down. He wanted to keep the casualties at a minimum, and he could sense that she was the last employee in the room beyond the metal door. All the same he could feel the seething hatred of his partner burn as it made contact with his thoughts. The woman who had emerged from the room walked past the guard, but didn’t seem to pay him any mind.

“Night Dr. Franklin” the man said, trying and failing to keep the eagerness out of his voice. She glanced over her shoulder, like she hadn’t even noticed him before.

“Night Gary” he said raising his hand in a minimum effort wave. She sighed again and turned back around to walk towards the exit.

Raza figured she wasn’t going to be getting any sleep tonight either. There was something else to her as well, a kind of pent up energy that seemed to burn inside of her mind. It’d been a few weeks since the bonding, and he was still getting used to the new abilities it afforded him. From the way his suit tightened as he thought about it he reasoned that it must have been repressed sexual urges. He couldn’t quite place it though, but it felt...different then the guard, like there was another desire boiling underneath the physical need.

Before he could work it out, she disappeared through the door on the other side of the room and was gone.

It was time.

Even now his other whispered sweet words of encouragement in the back of his mind. He trusted it, more than he’d trusted anyone else in his life. The being he was one with, probably for the rest of his life, had been there for him when he needed it most, and now it needed him. The choice was clear. He couldn’t back out now that he was so close to his goal.

He waited for the guard to nod off again, which didn’t take very long. Raza could feel in the air that his heart rate had dropped. Bringing his clawed, black fingers out, he wormed the tips in between the grating and gripped it as firmly as he could. With a single motion he thrust his arms forward, detaching the vent from the wall where it was affixed, taking the screws with it. He paused for a second, making sure the sudden noise didn’t wake the guard. He stirred slightly, but didn’t open his eyes before readjusting himself and falling back to sleep. Turning the grate over, he pulled it in and props it up against the side of the vent’s aluminum walls.

Slinking from his hole, Raza pulled himself out, arms and head first, then the rest of his body. Unlike with the vent cover, he was absolutely silent, emerging like a cat and landing on the floor with barely a patter. Standing at full height, Raza took a moment to take stock of his surroundings. He knew the building well, but he hadn’t been at work in nearly two weeks, and he didn’t know if anything had changed. He had to be sure no one was alerted. He knew they were equipped to deal with him - with both of them.

Raza looked down at himself. He was always aware of the organism wrapped around his naked body, but sometimes he liked to see it just to make sure it was still there. He was never this muscular when he was only human, and the shiny, black material that covered the entirety of his body seemed to accentuate every curve of his new, toned body. The creature had been changing him slowly since the bonding. His form was featureless otherwise, save for the pair of tear-drop shaped patches that took up much of the upper part of his face. It was probably the suit’s way of mimicking human eyes.

He thought at first that he was going to have to incapacitate the guard before going after his prize, but another idea struck him - a more humane one. He focused his mind, trying to visualize as much of the woman who had just emerged from the room. It came easily; the suit had greatly increased his memory capacity, especially for what other people looked like. As her form came more into focus in their mind, he could feel the suit ripple ever so slightly. All at once, there was a tight constricting feeling all across is body. Muscles reshaped, limbs thinned, until a spitting image of the scientist was all that remained. He - or rather she looked down at herself, making sure the transformation was perfect. It always was, but she felt he had to see it just to make sure. Her hands came up to her own face and she felt the thick lips, and even the glasses hanging on her pointed nose. She smiled wryly to herself and stepped forward.

“Umm...excuse me” she said, her voice mimicking her doppelganger exactly.

The guard stirred, snapped awake, and turned slowly to look at her. She smiled, and as he realized who she was, he sat up straight and swallowed hard. He wanted to fuck her, she could tell. Even without the sweat his eyes told the whole story.

Poor guy.

“Uh...what can I do for you ma’am”

“Oh, it’s stupid” she said pouting slightly “I left my security clearance badge in the containment lab. I was hoping maybe you could let me in so that I could get it”

His eyebrows furrowed.

“I shouldn’t” he said, almost at a whisper “Mr. Reynolds would --“

“Please?” She pleaded “I just need to be there for a second, I’d...I’d thank you forever, just please.”

His eyebrows rose. He sighed and reached for his badge.

“Thank you so, so much, you don’t know how much this means to me.”

“Not a problem, just be quick, alright?”

She smiled broadly then pointed towards the door then back behind her quickly.

“In and out”

He pushes his chair back and it screeches as his weight presses it against the tile. Raza shudders slightly. With a gallant grunt, the guard pushes himself up out of the chair and straightens up his shirt again. With every step towards the door, it seems to take a conscious effort in him to not turn and look at the woman following close behind.

The large man scanned his card across the reader and quickly punched in a code. As soon as he pressed the last key, there was a hiss and a series of clicks just like before. The latches along the edge came undone one by one, and with a pneumatic jolt the door jutted out from its frame by just a bit.

“There you are” he said gesturing towards it.

Raza looked him in the eye and he looked into hers, both of them waiting for the other to make a move. The guard’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly. Raza noticed the muscles tensing in his right shoulder.

He knew.

Before the guard could even twitch towards his gun, Raza threw out her arm and the lab coat sleeve instantly morphed back into a black clawed arm. Snatching the hapless man by the throat he hoisted him up off his feet and against the wall.

Raza could feel the anger coursing through her veins, the pulsing of his second skin. Her face contorted into a visage of pure rage even though he didn’t will it. She was losing control.

“Don’t kill him” she mentally screamed.

He could feel the conflict arising. His other’s search for vengeance had led him to this moment. It wanted this, it wanted to snap his fat, stupid fat neck in two and watch his body slump to the sickening tile floor. The guard’s eyes began to roll into the back of his head, and as the last thrashings and struggles subsided, Raza loosened her grip. The large man fell to the ground with an ungracious thud.

Before she could check to see if the man was still breathing, an urgency to continue forward surged through him. Reaching for the handle of the door, she grabbed it and tugged, nearly pulling the thing right off its hinges.

Blue light spilled from the room beyond the door. While the guard room was sterile, this place smelled outright anti-septic. It made Raza wince.

Forcing back his inhibitions, she stepped through and into the other room. The skin and clothes of the woman he was impersonating melted and shifted across his body until they reformed into the black, resinous body he had before. The determination was still apparent in the shape of his white eye patches.

It was smaller than you might expect a lab to be, only a bit larger than the room he just came from. He figured it was probably to keep the rest of the building from catching onto its importance. Big labs equal big projects, and this small room barely called any attention to itself. It didn’t stop the rumors, but they usually stayed just that, rumors.

For a top secret lab, it looked rather ordinary. It had the same stainless steel tables, the same sets of standard beakers, test tubes, and microscopes the others had. What set it apart though were the four sets of beakers on the far end of the room, lined up almost like they were on display. Each of the four beakers was filled with a thick, viscous black liquid mixed with a different color in each one - Blue, Green, Red, and Purple. It was hard to tell from a distance whether it was the surface of the glass that was reflective or the liquid itself was glossy, but Raza knew it was the latter.

An ear splitting buzz shattered the stillness of the room. His other let out a mental scream, but quickly composed itself.

The alarm! He’d left the door open for too long. He turned to look and saw that the door was still left open. Shit! He’d forgotten about that security protocol. If a door was left open for too long the system would assume that there was a security breach. He’d designed this place too well...

Snatching up the beakers he unscrewed the tops of each and poured each thing of ooze into a nearby bottle. The liquid was thick and dormant, so his anxiety grew as each second of pouring went by. Just as the last of the goop fell into the bottle a slight twitch could be seen on the surface. It was waking up.

Sealing the bottles tight Raza turned and bolted for the door, not bothering to close it behind him. He ran past the still lifeless body of the security guard and made for the door on the far end. As he plowed through the door he could hear voices shouting from down the hall he emerged into. Men in heavy armor were bearing down on him. As the first of them spotted him there was a ripple of yells that carried through to the back of the mob. The suit tightened as he felt it take control in his mind.

“As few killings as possible” he said before his other gained total control of his muscles. He burst into a run and sprinted right towards the men. The front entrance wasn’t an option anymore, the only way was the roof, and the only way to the roof was through these men. The first muzzle flashes seemed to come before the sound, but his thick, ebony skin took each bullet with stride. He knew it wouldn’t hold forever.

He struck the first man with a kick to the chest, using his mass to propel himself towards the ceiling where his hands adhered instantly. There was chaos, these men weren’t equipped to handle something like him, but he knew the ones that were wouldn’t be far behind. He rounded a corner, than another corner. He plowed through another door and leapt up a staircase. Higher and higher he rose. He could sense the fear, the panic, and anger that infected everything around him - even himself. His other kept him calm though. All the same his delicate grip on the bottle of liquid tightened slightly. At last, they reached the top of the stairs, and one last door remained. Normally it was locked, but he knew it wouldn’t be able to withstand his strength.

*BANG* the door flew open and the cool night air greeted him. The moon was almost full that night, and he soaked in the strength the evening wind gave him. He couldn’t stop though, the danger wasn’t past. He got to the edge of the roof before he heard it.

“FREEZE!” a familiar voice screamed.

Raza stopped in his tracks, regaining control. He stood tall and turned around to face his new foe. The man was balding, a mean scowl was spread across his face, but his eyes burned with an intense hatred. His navy blue coat rippled slightly in the breeze.

“Don’t move!”

More and more men emerged and got into position behind him. In their hands were weapons he had never seen before. They looked like guns, but they were striped with yellow and had long, box shaped barrels. Then he realized - they were the sonic guns his team had been developing. He didn’t know they were so close to completion.

“Now don’t do anything stupid!” The man said slowly.

He was trapped. The roof was twenty stories high and in the middle of the woods. Unless he wanted to take his chances climbing down now he was caught, and if he tried, they’d shoot him before he got three stories down.

He had only one choice. Raza could feel the material coating his body begin the shift around his head. His short, brown human hair spilled out of the scalp as the stuff retreated. His own face was soon revealed as the material crawled along his features and stopped at his neck. Blue eyes stared at the man with just as much intensity as they did under the mask.

“Chris?” The man said, lowering his gun slightly. Raza didn’t move. “It was you.” The man continued furrowing his brow “the specimen didn’t escape, it--”

The man grinned, putting the pieces together and his head. Everything about his expression seemed to indicate an attitude of “I knew it”. After his moment of pleasure was done, his face returned to one of stoic seriousness.

“Chris, we need to get those clones back to containment. They’re unstable. We don’t know what’ll happen with this kind of exposure.”

Raza took another step back closer to the edge.

“Chris? What the fuck are you doing!”

“I’m giving them a chance” said, his voice shuddering but confident.

The man took a step forward and lowered his gun. Raising his hand palm outward, his eyes pleaded though his words were harsh.

“Chris, that thing has poisoned your brain! Think! You’re smarter than this don’t do something you’ll regret when we separate you”

“That’s just it” Raza chuckled “why would we want to be separated”

The man glanced to the side and sighed.

“Come on Chris, you--“

“THAT IS NOT OUR NAME!” Raza screamed, his suit tightening and muscles bulging.

Raza’s fingers released, and the bottle instantly plummeted downwards towards the sidewalk below. It only took a few seconds for it to smash into the concrete and shatter. With their containment broken the semi-liquid contents splashed across the pavement in a multi-colored puddle. For a moment they stayed there, as dormant as they were in their glassy prisons.

One of them lurched...then another...then another...then another. Soon all four organisms were squirming and writhing amongst each other, at once intermingling and separating, trying to make sense of where they were. One blob threw itself hard enough to pull itself fully out of the entanglement and made for the sewer drain. This seemed to repeat for each of them, each eventually detaching from the others and finding their own way to a manhole, drain, or grate and slinking down into the depths of the earth.

Back on the roof, the men still had their guns trained on the creature. The man in the navy blue coat drew in noisy, frustrated breaths through his nose. His eyes were fixed on the black-skinned creature standing before him.

“Do you even realize what you just did?” he said gritting his teeth “Can you even get it into your slime filled brain what’ll happen when those things get to the city?”

“They’ll be free, Eric.” he said “Freedom, remember what that means? That’s why we started this project, wasn’t it, to free humanity from itself?”

“You know that’s not what I - what we meant.” Eric said.

The creature lifted one foot and moved it back until it hovered over the lip of the building. It was a small movement, almost imperceptible, and when Eric noticed his eyes went wide.

“Chris, NO! You know you won’t survive that. Jesus Christ, for once just THINK about what you’re --“

“Oh we’ve thought about it” Chris said with a wry grin “You’re going to capture us. You’re going to separate us. You’re going to torture us. You’ll use us to track our offspring and I can’t let you do that.”

“Chris, please!” Eric said, a sense of genuine concern breaking through his angry façade.

A ripple erupted from the Raza’s neck. Tendrils of black material climbed up the man’s face like spider legs over his jaw, and into his mouth and nose. He closed his eyes as the material covered them and two patches of white like teardrops formed over top of them. It intermingled with his hair and formed a bald head in place of his own. In place of his mouth was an oversized maw of vicious, razor sharp teeth. A long, red, serpentine tongue spilled out from it. The being sighed, but it came out more like a gurgle.

“Option number two” he said in a raspy, monstrous voice.

He leaned backwards and toppled over the edge.

For a few short seconds, he and his other felt truly one, freed from gravity and all other things except for the rush of air and each other. He landed on the ground with a sickening thud right where the four beakers had shattered just moments before.

Nobody said a word. Eric clenched his fists, barely concealing his rage. He strode towards the edge and looked over. Chris’ naked body laid there with the lifeless ooze pooled about him. Hazmat personnel were already pouring out the door. He shook his head.

“Sir, what do we do now?” a monotone voice said behind him.

Eric didn’t turn, he knew the voice of Joanne, his assistant.

“Mobilize security and call up Yuri, we can’t let those specimens bond.”

“And what about his specimen?” she said gesturing over the edge of the building.

Eric looked back over the lip and clenched his teeth.

“Get it into containment, we’ll run the tests later.”

The assistant gave a curt nod and turned to walk back quickly through the door.

There were four specimens now on the loose in a populated area, and there was no knowing where they might go. How long had Chris been hiding that he’d been using himself as a test subject? He knew him - he would never intentionally put people in danger. He sighed. Yet another puzzle for him to solve, one he’d throw on a pile with all the others. Whatever Chris’ reasons they didn’t matter anymore. They were out there...somewhere, and he had to find them before it was too late.