From: bgriffin@ic.sunysb.edu (Eli the bearded) Newsgroups: rec.arts.erotica,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Subject: Metamensity Date: 14 Nov 1995 05:47:45 GMT Organization: rec.arts.erotica immoderation Message-ID: <489ai1$f1@netaxs.com> Archive-name: metamensity Metamensity By Eli the Bearded One day Gregor woke up to find himself oddly constrained. A coarse stiff cloth held him firmly against a semisoft grassy surface. He felt distinctly warm. He tried to worm his way out from under the cloth. After much struggling his face emerged. He looked around and realized in shock, it was not grass on this "ground" he felt, it was hair. Somehow he was caught in the bra of a woman whose breasts were taller than him. Before he could try to wonder what had happened, the woman, apparently sleeping, rolled over. He was crushed under the enormous weight and passed out, unable to breathe. When he regained consciousness, but before opening his eyes, he thought "Wow, what an odd nightmare to nearly die under the weight of huge tits." Then he opened his eyes. Not only was the nightmare real, She was towering above him naked and staring right down at him. For lack of anything else to do, he rolled over and tried to scramble away. He found himself pushed back down. She spoke to him, the voice sounding oddly deep, "Where do you think you're going? You have a lot of questions to answer." Half terrified and slightly ashamed now that he realized his own nakedness, he slowly answered, "I know just as much about this as you do. I am really sorry I ended up in your bra...." She had begun to smile as he talked, then she cut him off. "Oh you don't understand. I knew I was going to wake up with somebody in my clothes and I don't mind that you showed up in my bra, no I want to know about you." "How could you know that I was going to be in your bra?" Gregor nearly yelled. "Oh I have a constant supply of little men. I didn't know who I would get today or where'd you show up, but I knew I would have somebody." "Well how did I get there? Why me? Why does this happen to you?" "I can't answer all of those, but before I get to that I really want you to answer some questions first. Tell me about yourself. What's your name? How old are you? Etc." "My name is Gregor. I am -- or is it was -- in a doctoral program studying entomology. I'm twenty-two and I've spent virtually my entire life in Pennsylvania. I don't often drink and I don't use drugs, so I don't know what has done? is doing? this to me." Straining up at her from his seated position was hurting his neck, so he lay down. "Okay. I don't know why this happens to me or how it happens. Often there seems to be some ironic aspect with the guys who show up. With you, I'd say it's the entomologist bit. With the last guy I think it was his fascination with large breasts. It was kinda cute having him around. He would wash my breasts like some guy tending his dream car. Really nice. "Oh, by the way, my name is Andrea. I have a degree in literature and I work as a freelance writer. I'll be twenty-four next May. "You are the fifteenth guy I've had show up. Always you guys have appeared in my clothing while I was sleeping. This whole thing started when I was about the age of eighteen. The largest was about seven inches tall and the shortest was just under five. I keep vaguely hoping that maybe a woman will show up sometime, but it never happens." Gregor paused, thinking. "So where are the others, can I meet them? It would be nice to talk about this with someone who can relate to it." "Ummm. You may not like this. The others are dead." "What?!?" "I always get one of you the first night I don't sleep in the nude after the last one dies. I don't know why this is. Actually I have a theory that I don't need to sleep the entire night, just the hour between three and four in the morning." "How did the others die, if I may ask?" "My cat got to Frank. I feel really bad about him. A couple have drown. Two committed suicide. Several died by sleeping with/in/on me. One asked me to kill him. One died by accident while I was fulfilling a fantasy of his. I feel guilty about that, but I do think that it was the way he wanted to die. The rest just disappeared and I assums walking. A particular type of stretching meant that the leg on that side was going up a step. A similar tension accompanied by a slight pressure marked going down a step. A gentle run produced a tight pressure that held him from the downward inertia. Gregor began to masturbate in this warm wet darkness. He thought he heard Andrea say "Mmmm." He began to writhe around. He was certain she was making noises now. He noticed that she was becoming wetter. He stretched his legs to rub them upon the soft membranes. He felt her walking slow. He stretched one arm out and tapped her clitoris. She stopped moving. He hit the clitoris. She started again. He clenched as cock in his fist tightly trying hard to milk from it a third come for the day. Impossible as it seemed, the sweet aroma had gotten stronger. The elastic sheath was tiring his arm but the full body sensations were wonderful. He slowed his writhing as he neared orgasm. His muscles were all contracting in preparation for the peak. Between the his tactile and olfactory senses he was too overwhelmed to think. When he finally came only the one arm had been moving. Andrea had not slowed down for this. His erection was subsiding and action was returning to his limbs when he heard her speak to him. "I've got an idea for a special treat for you." The words were spoken in a half amused, half sinister tone. He felt strange motion he could not place followed by and odd upward push. "I'm going for a bike ride," she said laughing. In moments his tired cock was becoming erect again. "Sexual burnout. That must be the real reason all the other men died so quickly," he thought. Letting out a sigh, he admitted to himself that he felt a perverse pleasure knowing that it was a great way to go. -- rec.arts.erotica, a moderated Usenet newsgroup for erotic fiction and verse submissions: <erotica@sub-rosa.com> * admin: <erotica-request@sub-rosa.com>