The Domina Bug

[headpop]

"It's the end of all manhood." "Ahh.. but is it? Does not a lion need it's prey to eat?" "Doctor, it doesn't make sense." "In 1952 a fellow by the name of Jacquin De Silva, a honey farmer, wanted to make the perfect most bestest honey producing bee in all the world. So what did he do? He took a trip to Africa and brought hundreds of African queen bees to his house in South America. Then he went to Europe and took a whole bunch of European honey bees to his house in South America. And made them mate. He called it 'The Superbee'. But we all know the way it turned out." "The Killerbee." "Yes. As mad and large as an african loner, and as cooperative as a european swarmer. No honey.. just death. Everything has a spirit, you see. Everything we face can be made into a living character.. A creature of the tangible. Inevitably selfish.." "It makes sense too." "How so?" "Well, pnemonia.. sex.. the fetus." "My dear Andrew, sense is the last thing it will ever make.." "The Flu."

The jungle is an Archeological breeding ground. Things we dig up calling old, all the time, are really only new. People just want to be important. People just want to be a part of history. They're really just the products of an incredibly rich and thickly festering life in the Pleistescene. Festering beyond our anticeptic understandings. It is the year 2030, and a virus a terrorist originally called "The Black Cobra" has mutated into a nightmare of an entirely different kind let loose. Attacking the bone and turning the bones to jello to start, it's mutated back into it's original state now with mankind's pornographic manner. His political will forever on it's mark. The Domina Bug. She will sit on your face and make you her sexy gravy..

Where you'll die.

Picture courtesy of: http://topscans.ru/

[headpop]

"I feel like it's my breast." "But it's not your breast. It's your vagina." "It feels just like my breast!" "Do you know what you're doing to him?" "I'm loving him!" "No, you're not. You're killing him. Don't you feel him struggle?" "Leave me alone Doctor. Please.. Just give me this little time alone. Please.. You don't understand." "She's completely obsessed." "It's fooled her reproductive system. She even believes it's love." "Belief? Belief! You call this belief!? A fucking murder!" "Calm down.. calm down.. we're all scientists here." "This is unbelievable. I want it on the record that I don't condone this!"

"Unbelievably sexy.."

[headpop]

Patricia took off the headset. "Did you have an orgasm?" "Yes." And she began to clear her throat. "What did it feel like?" "I told you. It felt just like my breast." "And that's different somehow?" "Yes. Quite.." And she caught her breath, not even realizing she was somewhat out of it. "What happens when a man wears this? Does he get turned on too?" And that room of scientists suddenly got unexpectedly chauvinistic. "No. In fact, it's quite the opposite. Most of our male subjects got sick." "Oh my god."

[headpop]

This is a story about a disease mutation. A wmd.. *eyeroll*. Imagine a sexually transmitted disease that people like. A kind of a social gene splicer.. This bug, really an old foe (the flu), has found genetically the most "meat" in mankind's "meatiest" area: sex. All the other bugs are going "Hey, welcome to the club. Glad you see the light.." And men with the disease just get a pnemonia. But women? Their vaginas turn into gushing gooing festering ejaculating fountain head seeking frightened men missiles. Attaching themselves to their faces in unbelievably virii induced heightened orgasm. Orgasm that never ends. And they fill up their victims lungs with virii rich fluid that kind of hijacks the repiratory system.

Ain't no condom big enough..