TITLE    : Buffy the Shemale Vampire Slayer Ch. 09
STORYID  : buffy-the-shemale-vampire-slayer-ch-09
SUMMARY  : Buffy enters a landscape filled with phallic plants.
AUTHOR   : Cal Y. Pygia@lit
DATE     : 2005-09-01
CATEGORY : celebrity-stories
FLAGS    : 
TAGS     : |shemale|hermaphrodite|buffy|vampire|slayer|cock|balls|cunt|ass|fuck|


Buffy had emerged, at last, from the cavernous planet-pussy awash in semen, only to find herself in a landscape filled with phallic plants. The strange stalks could elongate instantly, swelling and stiffening to whatever dimensions were needed to reach and penetrate their prey--and, Buffy realized, "prey" described her status perfectly. As the Slayer, she was not used to being a victim, and her newfound role did not suit her, not one bit!



She kicked savagely at the nearest prick-plants, flailed at others that sprang to within inches of her face, and clawed at still others that shoved insistently between her cunt lips or jabbed at her asshole. As soon as she kicked or knocked aside one of the fleshly tentacles, half a dozen others leaped up in its place. She was surrounded by more cocks than the star of a bukkake film. Although none had penetrated her--yet--many spurted, dribbled, or oozed thick, white semen. Buffy had swum in enough male seed for one day--or an eternity--and she had no desire to be filled and covered with more of the same.



She fought valiantly, even desperately, using every technique, strategy, trick, and tactic with which her instinct and training had equipped her. She jabbed, feinted, kicked, leaped, somersaulted, punched, elbowed, chopped, even bit--but it was no use; there were thousands of the penis-plants and, alas, only one Slayer. Against such odds, not even Buffy could hope to win.



If she couldn't fight, she told herself, all that was left was flight. Buffy was strong. She had amazing stamina. She was a hell of a runner. Maybe she could get away from the hundreds and hundreds of thrashing, undulating penises that sought to penetrate her every orifice. Scanning the forest of phallic plants, Buffy charted a course through her attackers, and rushed past the writhing stalks, hoping against hope that she'd make it through the gauntlet of pricks.



She'd gone no more than a dozen yards before she tripped over one of the penises and fell headlong to the ground. Immediately, twenty or more pricks were shoving and jabbing and pressing and poking and thrusting and ramming against her, jostling her calves, thighs, groin, stomach, breasts, neck, face, hair, back, and buttocks as they sought to penetrate her anywhere and everywhere they could. It was only a matter of moments, the Slayer realized, before a cock pierced the labia behind her own male genitals; the tight anus between her round, sleek buttocks; and her mouth. With sudden horror, two thoughts occurred to Buffy. More than one plant-phallus might seek to impale the same orifice! Moreover, once it was inside her mouth or cunt or ass, the plant-prick might elongate, becoming not inches, but feet, in length, and the damned thing might double or triple in circumference! The demon-pricks could rip her wide open!



Buffy's heart clamped down hard upon itself, pumping terror-inspired adrenaline into her bloodstream, and the Slayer tore at the cocks that pummeled her in their desperate attempts to invade her most intimate parts. Tears coursed down her face, and she sobbed, hating herself for this display of fear and weakness. Buffy was the Slayer, not a helpless crybaby! She wasn't a powerless victim to be used and abused by mindless fucking plants, not even plants that were equipped with pricks! Fighting with renewed vigor, the Slayer acquitted herself well, before she exhausted her superhuman reservoir of strength and stamina. Dozens of dead and dying penises were strewn over the landscape, oozing semen and a crimson fluid that, Buffy observed with fresh horror, resembled blood more than it did sap, just as the tissue that covered the plants' stalks looked more like flesh than they did vegetative matter. What were these fucking monstrosities, Buffy wondered--plants, animals, or some weird, perverted demon-combination? She sniveled, realizing that it didn't matter, not really--not when she was about to be fucked in every hole in her hermaphroditic body and maybe be torn apart in the process.



A penis wound itself around Buffy's left arm. Another coiled itself around her right arm. A third encircled her left calf. A fourth looped itself around her right calf. Tightening, the coiled pricks tugged Buffy's limbs part, spread-eagling her upon the ground.



A choked sob escaped the Slayer's lips as more tears, hot and wet, trickled down her cheeks. She, who had always been the champion for the weak and helpless, now lay upon her back, her arms parted and her legs spread, naked, powerless, and exhausted, bound by thick coils of cock, waiting to be ravished in every orifice of her body--it was unthinkable! It was unfair! It wasn't right! Buffy closed her eyes tightly, gritting her teeth. She would not cry out. No matter how much rage or humiliation or fear she felt, she would not scream or sob. She would bear the outrage of the assault. She would endure the fury, the shame, and the terror and, if she were fortunate enough to survive, she would repay these insults to her dignity and her virtue even if she died in the process. Hang on, Buffy, she told herself.



Her eyes snapped open. In horror, she stared at the suction cups that had fastened themselves upon her nipples. Like those on an octopus' tentacles, the disc-shaped cups gripped the tips of her boobs with fierce insistence, and Buffy felt them nuzzle and suck. Despite her revulsion, the Slayer's nipples responded, stiffening and swelling inside the miniature domes that milked them.



No sooner had Buffy understood what was happening to her breasts than she felt something tubular, soft as silk but wet and slick as well, like a cunt, slide over her ever-erect penis. The plants' tentacles, she thought, were not all phallic; some were tentacles with suction cups that could attach themselves to their victim's nipples; others were hollow cylinders that were lined with soft, smooth, slippery tissue that resembled the inside of Buffy's own pink-and-red pussy. The plants, it seemed, were every bit as hermaphroditic, in their own way, as Buffy herself had become, thanks to the bite of the damned Feral demon that had transformed her (hopefully, temporarily) into a shemale vampire slayer. Buffy snorted derisively. Well, in a demon-dimension such as this, such revelations shouldn't surprise her, she thought.



As the tubular, vagina-like tentacle began to slide up and down upon Buffy's erect organ, her penis and testicles were shoved upward by the entrance of a thick, hard cock into Buffy's own pussy. She felt the petals of her labia part to admit the trespassing organ; she felt the swollen member slide deep into her cunt, into the liquid chamber of her womb. The serpentine appendage was huge! It stuffed her full, its length and girth occupying every square inch of her pussy. Never had she been so crammed full of cock. Neither Angel, Riley, Parker, nor Spike had ever occupied her so completely--and they all had pricks of a respectable, even (in the vampires' cases) extraordinary, dimensions.



Now that the plant-penis had entered her, it began to fuck Buffy in earnest, ramming her fiercely with a rapidity of motion and an intensity of force that, in her own dimension, could have been duplicated only by a machine. Beneath its relentless, piston-like pounding, not only did the Slayer's whole frame recoil, but her teeth rattled as well. It seemed to Buffy that she was being pummeled rather than fucked. She struggled feebly to escape, but she was too weak, too spent, and too exhausted. All that resulted from her efforts was a tightening of the penile bands that secured her arms and legs.



As the tubular tentacle stroked Buffy's cock with its liquid-smooth, wet, flesh-lined interior and the huge cock fucked her own pussy with machine-gun rapidity and battering-ram ferocity, a second demon-prick forced its way between Buffy's lips, filling her mouth. She gagged on the thick, hard column of flesh that pumped back and forth between her lips, over her tongue, and between the inner walls of her cheeks, lengthening to reach her esophagus and shoving itself down her throat more deeply and forcefully with every plunging thrust.



The tears came again, flowing copiously sown the Slayer's wet and shining face. She couldn't help herself. The shame she felt was staggering, overwhelming. Even if she did manage to survive this terrible multiple rape, this gang bang, she would never be the same. She would never be herself again, not after this. She'd be--what? A slut? A whore?



No! Buffy told herself. She would be none of those things! She wasn't giving herself to these demon-plant-rapists; they were taking her against her will. They had to trip her and manacle her before they could have their way with her. This wasn't making love; this was being ravished. Still, despite her knowledge of the facts, despite her unwillingness to submit to the brutal assault she was undergoing, Buffy couldn't help feeling like a slut and a whore and weren't one's perceptions, one's feelings, often the same as one's reality?



Another plant-prick invaded Buffy; this one wound its way, corkscrew-like, up her ass, winding round and round inside her anus, twisting its way through her sphincter, and swirling its way into her rectum. More and more of the elongating cock twirled through her bowels. Despite her earlier vow not to do so, Buffy screamed. She was frightened--far more terrified than she'd ever been in the nearly ten years that she'd been fighting vampires, demons, and other creepy crawlies. The prick inside her bottom seemed to fill her asshole to the bursting point, and still the damned thing continued to expand, to thicken, to swell, as its already-long shaft underwent still further elongation. If it continued to stiffen and swell inside her, it might rip and tear the tender tissues of her rectum wide open, and she'd bleed to death.



<i>. . . to be continued. . . .</i> 

