Darmak
Chapter 4
Marty’s doubts left him as he walked through the doors of the girl’s locker room. His delay with Susan Parrish had been well-timed, for now instead of being there as girls entered, everybody was already there. This way, instead of altering reality several times for each new person coming in, he needed only to make one revamp of the quantum state.
For novelty, he spoke as he did, and made the effects of his quantum philosophy gradually move out in a radius around him, affecting those closer first.
Thus, as the ninety-some girls in their particular state of undress first noticed a male entering their sanctum sanctorum, they began to scream. Marty, though, raised his hands and intoned, “Ladies, please, do not be afraid!” By the time he’d finished the sentence, the girls closest to him were entering a new reality in which he was their master and they his obedient subjects. “Everything is normal, everything is fine.” Another three rows down. “My presence here is perfectly normal, and you should not be shocked our outraged or afraid at my presence.” Three-quarters of them now. “In fact, you should welcome it, for you are now my adoring slaves, and I am now, and forever have been and will be, your master.”
By the time he’d finished, every girl in the locker room was standing still, eyes on him. Each and every one was smiling for his presence.
“Now, then. You ladies are very special, for you have been selected to be the mothers of my children. You will be the middle step between human and super-human.”
Marty paused. Still, all these girls waited for him expectantly.
Still, something about the entire fiasco rang hollow. Marty realized that with his new pragmatism overcoming his upbringing, there was only a cold, hard logic to this effort. No passion or pleasure.
“Shit. Hold on a second.” He sat to think, and finally formulated a plan. He rose again. “Okay, ladies, listen carefully. I’m going to step outside for a moment. When I do three things will happen. One: you will still know me to be your master, and yourselves to be concubine slaves whose purpose is impregnation and motherhood. You will not consciously realize this, though; it will only show in your obedience to me and in your willingness to submit. Two: you will go back to what you were doing, forgetting all of this. Even if I re-enter, you will not perceive me until I say, “Let there be light.” Three: the moment I close this door this room will be flooded with pheromones, which will grow doubly strong every minute. Oh, and also every ten minutes that passes your breasts will grown an inch larger. Thank you, I’ll see you all in a little while.”
With that, Marty turned and left the locker room, closing the door tightly behind him. He then altered reality to meet his previous declaration, as well as manipulating time so that, outside of that locker room (except for himself) time ceased to pass. They could take as long as they wanted.
Marty waited in anticipation. Finally, when it got to the point that he was checking his watch every five seconds to see how much time had passed, he opened the door and went inside.
It was melee.
Of the ninety-plus girls in the locker room, all were driven into a sexual frenzy. Some masturbated furiously, either with their fingers or any phallic-shaped object around, one even with a baseball bat. Most had taken a more social approach and taken a sixty-nine stance, or joined an orgy. A few still held out, hiding on the outskirts of the romp as fear took precedence over indulgence.
Just barely, however. As Marty walked by, still invisible to their lust-blinded eyes, he nonchalantly reached over and tickled one girl’s cunt. Unaware of any outside stimulus, she moaned with pleasure, and almost immediately took over herself.
Darmak’s metallic thoughts made an appearance. “Now I am impressed, Marty!”
“Hey, Darmak. Sorry I blew up at you out there.”
“I understand. Crises of conscience always make people a little testy. So what’s up?”
“Well, I sent a batch of pheromones in the locker room that doubled every minute.”
“And how many minutes ago was that?”
“I was able to wait about five minutes.”
“And what was the batch’s strength?”
“I dunno. Enough to make them really horny.”
“Okay, we’ll quantify it. 0 is not stimulated at all, 100 is ready to have sex. Say you started at about 60. That’s doubled five times...”
“That’s 300, right?” Marty whistled, impressed.
“No, you’re using multiplication, not exponents. 60log5 is 777,600,000.”
Marty was flabbergasted. He wasn’t even sure what that meant, just that it was a really big number.
“What that means is that these girls are so horny that they’d fuck a baby corn just because it’s vaguely penis-shaped. And they’d come six times in the first stroke. What the fuck are you waiting for?”
As Darmak finished, it reached six minutes.
Immediately, the already noisy room filled with erotic moans and gasps and cries and shouts of joy and frustration and pain and pleasure all rolled into one. “That’s 46,656,000,000 now. LISTEN!”
“One more thing I have to do, and then I’m ready,” Marty said, and concentrated. He found a line of probability that would make him susceptible to these same pheromones until he’d pleasured and impregnated every woman in the room; in which he would have the physical capabilities to do the job; in which each woman upon impregnation would receive the same instant/eternal orgasm as Julia had, then become unaffected by the pheromones but still his slaves; and in which he’d not be able to stop until he’d finished with every one of them. Surprisingly, it was a line relatively easy to find, considering all the constraints. He set it to take effect as soon as he’d said his key phrase.
“Ladies! Let there be light!”
Immediately the women nearest him leaped to him, desperate for a man, any man, but ESPECIALLY this man who they knew they need must submit to, who they knew instinctively to be the ultimate male, the ultimate of ultimate, their eternal master.
Marty, however, was instantly too far gone to care. The moment he’d said his phrase this new reality had taken over, one in which he was just as susceptible as these girls. His consciousness stopped, overruled and utterly consumed by a carnal desire he’d never before imagined he could imagine! His enormous penis lunged up, engorged so quickly and so stiffly that it tore right through his pants. He reached over and grabbed the first breast he found, by this time almost 3/4 inch larger than it had been before, and without delicacy or hesitation pulled it and its owner towards him. Sight disappeared, clouded by a haze of maddened red, and touch and smell took over. Ungraciously, too far gone with desire to be gracious, he pierced this girl, forcing himself farther and further into her tight cunt. She screamed with ecstasy so loud it hurt his ears, and he automatically kissed her, forcing his mouth to cover hers to silence the erogenous moans and cries. Soon, almost together, they came, but Marty sensed with instinct rather than thought, for thought was burned far back, that his work wasn’t done, that she still wasn’t pregnant. Without pause he continued to fuck her, lust driving them both lunatic wild, removing all style and technique in favor of pure raw passion. They came again, and again, each time driven further wild as the orgasm grew stronger, and still they fucked.
Finally, after his fifth orgasm in three minutes, the eighth time he’d come into her, she was fertilized. She drew back and stood at stiff, zombie-like attention, rendered an immobile hypnotic slave until further notice, unable to do anything other than wait through her extended orgasm, until Marty awoke her or she finished several hundred years later, whichever came first.
Marty, however, was far from over. There were ninety-nine women in this locker room, and he had ninety-eight more to turn into expectant mothers. Without even a pause for breath, his member painfully stiff and his balls already reloaded, Marty turned savagely and forced his way into the next groping sex-starved girl he met. Her breasts, now and inch and a half larger, swung back and forth as he entered her from behind rather than take the time to move her around. By the second orgasm she’d moved to meet him, and by the third she was fertilized. She stood and moved to join the first slave.
Still Marty’s desire only grew. Darmak forced his way in far enough to count a string of numbers thirty-six digits long, for it had now been almost twenty minutes, but Marty ignored it. He ignored everything except the impossibly powerful, undeniable drive of thirty-six digits of pheromones. He plunged into another girl, coming after only a few strokes, fertilizing her in under a minute, and turned to the next. It seemed as if his potency was rising in response to his desire, although, he and Darmak later reasoned out, it was that the women’s biology was making them more responsive to impregnation as they got larger doses of pheromones and his own hunger letting him come more quickly. It was the last time Darmak ever questioned one of Marty’s shortcuts, because if not for this, making them impregnate faster than they would have, Darmak later figured it would have taken an additional six hours, by which time Marty was quite sure he would have gone mad.
As it was, as he came into the last girl, Patty Wriggly, lucky number ninety-nine, it had been over an hour. Not that fucking and fertilizing ninety-nine women in an hour was not impressive, but Darmak had by that time had to start referring to the pheromone potency not only as powers of ten but as powers of powers of ten just to keep the quantity intelligible. Marty writhed in orgasm. He’d programmed himself to stop orgasming after the last girl was finished, but so powerful this one was, an almost incomprehensible power of a power of ten, that even when programmed to end immediately it took a fair time to dissipate.
With a final exalted shudder, he caught his breath and rose to the ground. He blessed his foresight at improving his body, because he was quite sure he’d be sore tonight. In his old body he probably would have died before he reached girl number twenty.
That reminded him. He looked up, and saw his new legion of slaves. Each stood at attention, a dazed, dreamy look on their faces as they rode through the greatest orgasm of their lives. The later he’d taken to fuck them, the more pleasurable their orgasm was; number ninety-nine was practically floating. Each by now had breasts at least six and closer to seven inches larger than they had been before. In the case of some girls, Shannon Dotty for instance, this meant that some were now almost a foot large!
He waited for some time, admiring them and resting, and finally ordered them all awake. “Ladies. I suppose now would be a good time to introduce myself. My name’s Marty O’Conner. I am your new master. You will refer to me as such.”
“Yes, Master,” came the instant loving reply of almost a hundred naked, top-heavy women. It was a very gratifying experience.
“Do you love me?”
“Yes, Master,” they replied instantly. There was no hesitation or wariness about it. No woman, no human being, could get an orgasm that was, bare minimum, 46.7 billion times stronger than she’d ever had before and NOT be in love. The pleasure had burned away all inhibition, all initiative, all pride, all ego, leaving in its wake only utter devotion and love and servitude to the man, the god, that had given her such pleasure. Her master.
“All of you are now pregnant. Here is what will happen. No one will find anything unusual about your pregnancy, in fact, they will praise and adore you for your contribution to society, looking upon you fondly and even enviously.” As he said this, he made it so. “You will take meticulous care of yourselves, and of your new passenger. You will eat well and exercise and maintain a healthy lifestyle. You will treat your babies with the devotion you would show me. And that devotion is...?”
Ninety-plus varying answers synonymous with “Total, Master” issued forth.
“You will get regular check-ups and examinations. If you find or even suspect anything is wrong with your child, you will come to me with your concerns and I will correct it. You will all be well provided for, and eventually come to live with me.” He made a mental note; he’d have to get himself not just a house but a community. He may even have to move everyone out of the city for his mothers.
Then a better idea came to him. He focused his quantum powers, and found a reality in which an empty city lay waiting for him. He found several, in fact, infinite numbers, for there is infinite potential in infinite combinations. He chose one only a few minutes drive away, near the beach, with progressively larger skyscrapers giving every building at least a few floors of beach view. All the buildings were of the same basalt-white material, although built indestructible, and the city was entirely automated, run by mechanizations and robots, built by some abandoned hyper-advanced reality which he now partially usurped. He now had his own small county. In honor of the population, he bequeathed it Matriapolis. He’d have to apologize to Julia for putting her through unnecessary work, but he was confident that a good 46.7 billion strength fuck would cure her of any indignation.
He informed his slaves of his new plan, and asked if there were any questions.
One girl raised her hand. “Master, how much larger will our breasts grow?”
Looking, Marty realized that his monologue and alterations had taken some time, and in the meanwhile the girls’ breasts had grown another inch and a half. Marty apologized and stopped it. The girl, Farrah Daniels, replied, “That’s okay, Master. I always wanted large breasts. Thank you for them, Master.”
Surprised, Marty asked, “Is there anyone who doesn’t want large breasts?”
A few girls rose their hands, mostly, he noticed, those who had had big boobs before. Settling on an easier, although slightly less ethical, solution, he commanded, “Well, you do now. You all absolutely love having large breasts.”
Immediately every girl smiled gleefully, filled with joy at their new physiology. Some bounced up and down, many played with their breasts, a few began sucking their nipples. The latter had problems, though the opposite of Julia’s; whereas hers had been too small to reach, theirs were now too large! Many settled on kissing and petting and stroking their mammoth mammaries instead.
Marty was forced to restate his command, “Okay, you don’t love it, but you like it and enjoy it and...what the hell...and you flaunt it.” Immediately, the girls stopped their ridiculous behavior, although they did stand stiffly at attention, making their tits impossibly invasive. Those that didn’t do so instinctively saw others doing it and imitated it.
“Okay, well, that’s about it. Now you’ll all get dressed,” he didn’t bother altering reality to make their clothes fit; in this new reality they already would, “and go to gym class. As soon as you exit, time will flow normally again, and no time will have passed out there since I entered.” He also didn’t bother making them feel that this wasn’t odd, since with quantum philosophy a reality in which time could stop would be unremarkable. “You’ll all still remember this, though, and remember everything I told you, and remember that I’m your master, and that you love me, and that you will obey me utterly and exclusively.”
“Yes Master,” ninety-nine loving, obedient girls replied.
“Great. I leave you to it.”
Between “Goodbye, Master,” and “I love you, Master,” and “See you soon, Master,” and strokes and pets and words and acts of loving adoration, Marty took almost five minutes to reach the end of the fifteen rows of lockers, to the back door of the locker room that connected to the gym.
On his way there he heard a frantic moaning, muffled by the glass of the coach’s office. Curious, he walked around and saw Ms. Malabastar. Ms. Ballbuster, the kids called her. The PE coach, she was twenty-nine with the disposition of Puritan nun merged with a sadomasochistic drill sergeant.
Now, though, she writhed in agony on the ground, gasping for breath as she came and came and came. Her breasts, barely existent before on her lithe toned body, protruded now almost thirteen inches, bouncing violently and bashing her face as she desperately forced her fist into her dripping wet slit with blurring speed. Her muscles bulged as she fought to contain the pleasure inside her, to keep it from tearing her apart.
Nervously, Marty questioned Darmak. “So it’s been, what, an hour and a half now?”
“About. So....60log90...do you want to do the math?”
“No.”
“Do you want me to do the math?”
“No.”
“Okay. But there are 161 decimal places in it.”
Marty whistled. “But how was Ms. Ballbuster affected?”
“You had these pheromones invade every woman in the locker room. This office is in the locker room.”
“So why did I come out of it if she was still left?”
“You set yourself up when all THOSE women were affected. You didn’t set up a contingency for anyone else who might be affected.”
“Because I figured no one else could come in, what with time stopped outside.”
“Not your fault. Slight oversight. You can solve the problem easily enough.”
“How?”
“Fuck her.”
“Fuck her!?” Marty cried. “She’s a teacher! She’s twenty-nine! She’s—”
“—Hot and horny and a size 66LL and only going to get worse unless you give her a good boning?” Darmak suggested.
“Fuck,” Marty conceded.
“Quite so. Go on, Marty,” Darmak prodded. “Make it an even one hundred. I guarantee you’ll get an A+ in PE this quarter.” Marty concentrated, using his newfound powers as a sex god rather than quantum philosophy to strengthen his sore member, and stepped into the room.
The pheromones overcame him a few seconds after the gym coach did. By the time he was gone, she’d already orgasmed twice. The last thing Marty heard for a little while was Darmak, sounding very pleased with himself, quoting, “Why, Mrs. Robinson, you’re trying to seduce me!”
Then a wave of pleasure consumed him, and for a while he knew no more.