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SYNOPSIS
This second collection of Bill’s short stories is no less dark and chilling than the first, but these go far deeper into the possibilities of total domination by the power of the female body. From the far-flung corners of the universe to the girl next door, dangers, according to Bill, may be lurking unseen. There may be strange creatures that can change their form to become beautiful women, or there may be a strange mutation hidden in that innocent girl just down the street, ready to trap the unsuspecting male who falls into her clutches. Perhaps, if Bill is right, it is happening all around us, and even those women who appear to be perfectly normal may have dark desires to bind men to them for their own bizarre sexual purposes.
Bill tests the boundaries of femdom fantasy, and once again extends the limits of erotic imagination. These are stories of both dream and nightmare, with the difference between the two often indistinguishable.
These stories were edited and partly rewritten by Susan Strict.
EXTRACT
From the moment she climbed into his bunk with him, she was in control. There was nothing
he could do, stupefied by the powerful pheromones her body released and quite incapable of
stopping her. He was not unconscious, but it was as if he were completely paralyzed. He
could see, hear, feel, taste and smell, and in fact all of his senses were enhanced so
that every touch, every sensation was magnified a hundred times, every scent a hundred
times stronger, every caress a hundred times more arousing, and every ache a hundred times
more painful.
She needed to feel his reactions, and to sample his body and fluids before the mating.
She needed to take him into her, to absorb his chemistry deep in her reproductive system
so that her body could run tests on it before moving on to the next stage.
She climbed on top of him, knowing how much of a disaster this might be for him and now,
having reached this point, unable to stop herself from moving to the next stage. Already
the tremors of arousal were running through her and building to a climax that for her
would be an ecstasy dwarfing the relatively insignificant act of mating itself.
She clamped herself around his face, covering his mouth and nose like she was a tight,
rubbery diver’s mask. “Breathe,” she moaned. “Breathe into me. Breathe me.”
She had no idea how it would end. She only knew that for her species there could not be
any mistakes. It would not be the first time there had been a successful inter-species
mating nor, if that was how it must end, would it be the first failure. It was a serious
business with a serious ending. Either he would be her mate for life or he would not, and
if her body rejected him, found him incompatible, then that was the end of it and the end
of him.
Wrapped in the sheets of his bunk two bodies struggled, beautiful naked thighs clamped
around his head like a noose, dangling him from the rope of the next generation. For hour
after hour the biological laboratory inside her ran test after test, and all the time she
screamed in orgasm.
