"Let me get my older sister," says Makana. "I'll have her drink it instead!" The boy dashes off, leaving you alone with the formula.
Looking out your window, it isn't long until you see Makana returning with a figure in shapeless, baggy clothes and a wide hat. Their voices drift up to you.
"...nipotent?" asks a tantalizingly familiar female voice. "Kana, you didn't believe him, did you?"
"He seemed pretty insistent, Lani!" protested Makana. "Won't you try it? Think of the fun we could have if it does work!"
"All right, Kana. For you, I'll try it."
You smile as the two enter the building. Soon after you let them into your apartment.
"Mr. Jones, may I introduce my sister, Hokulani," says Makana.
You shake the mysterious figure's smooth, dainty hand.
Again that familiar voice. "Okay, Kana, go along. I'll catch you up one way or another," then, muttering, "unless this so-called 'God formula' is poison. Oh well, a promise is a promise."
After Makana leaves, you say, "Hokulani. A strange name."
"Yes," she replies. "It means 'star of heaven.'"
"A fitting name for someone about to rule over them."
"Then your formula truly grants omnipotence?"
"I am certain enough to proceed to human trials, but I do want a test subject. Are you willing?"
"I did promise Kana. Just let me get out of these things."
Hokulani turns away from you. Taking off her hat, a few deft movements of her hands rearrange her hairpins so that her black hair falls mostly in two pigtails to the small of her back. Her sweatshirt, which you had noticed had a zipper all down the front, came off next, and then her tearaway sweat pants came off.
"Ahh! That's much more comfortable," she says, turning around. Your jaw drops as you take in the bikini-clad figure.
"Holly Hannah Halton?" you gasp. It can't be anyone other than her. The exotic colouration, the voice, the hairstyle, and, most importantly, the HHH-cup breasts, all point to Hokulani Kealoha being none other than the famous 19-year-old Internet nude model Holly Hannah Halton.
She sighs. "Look, just don't let anyone know and I'll drink your formula, all right? My folks don't know--they think my trips out of town each weekend are to take nature walks, when actually they're for my shoots."
Eagerly you hand over the container. She chugs the whole formula in five seconds flat.
"Okay, remember your end of the bargain. You don't tell anyone who I am, or so help me God--" Suddenly she moans and, seeming to forget where she is, her hands begin to fly around her body, pulling down her bikini top and bottom, flying between her massive breasts and tight, shaven pussy.
As she continues to moan, a glow starts to come from inside her. The moans increase in intensity, and so does the light until you're forced to cover your ears and avert your eyes.
The moan finally climaxes in a scream. You feel a pain in your ears, after which you hear nothing, and, looking at the windows, see them shatter.
The glow fades, and amazingly glass, of clearly superior quality to that which had been there before, appears in the empty windows. Even more amazingly, you find yourself able to hear again.
"So, as I was saying, so help Me Me, if you tell anyone about Me--either that I'm a model or that I'm all-powerful now--I will do things to you that you cannot imagine and will not enjoy," finishes the new-fledged Goddess.
You rejoice mentally. The formula works! Ultimate power is yours to dispense!
As if in answer to your unspoken thought, the Goddess says, sternly, "No, it is not! I am the sole holder of this power, now. I decide who will have power and who will not. The formula you made will be inert if you attempt to make it again. Now, look upon Me, then swear your eternal allegiance to the living Goddess."
You turn hesitantly to see--Hokulani? Holly? The Goddess?--completely naked. She radiates power and dominance, so that seeing her sexually is, despite her even larger breasts and dripping pussy, impossible.
Images appear in your mind, which you assume must be the proper way to worship the new deity. Going down on your left knee, you extend your right leg behind you. The top of your head is on the floor, while your hands are clasped on the back of your head.
"Oh eternal Goddess, giver of all, taker of all, arbiter of all, accept this vow of eternal loyalty from Your insignificant servant, that You may merely entrench these feelings which already exist, rather than needing to create them, though neither is of any difficulty to You, as there is nothing of any difficulty to You, who are omnipotent." As you finish, you feel a pressure in your mind, and find it impossible to feel anything but gut-wrenching revulsion at the thought of displeasing your Goddess.
"Good!" comes the perfect voice of your Goddess. "Good! Rise, My servant, and look upon your Goddess."
You stand up slowly and take in the Goddess. She is perfect, of course. Everything from the way her eyes glow, to the uniform pigmentation of her skin, to the firm, jutting breasts, the defined muscles, the hard ass--all of it is utter perfection.
"You are perfect, Goddess," you say.
The Goddess waves the compliment aside and immediately you feel foolish for having spoken it. "I must go, but I leave you with a reward for your role in granting Me My power. Remember that this is a reward for you alone. I will know if you share it, and I will be most displeased. But as long as it remains private, you have My permission to do as you please with it."
The Goddess vanishes, and your apartment changes.
For one, it's no longer an apartment, at least, not while you're the only one around. A huge 25' plasma TV adorns one wall, with a top-quality sound system. Discs of a technology centuries ahead of Earth's current technological development sit in cases on a shelf, with the world's only player for them hooked up to the TV. If you put one in, the image would expand out from the TV, the scene becoming fully interactive. Through the Goddess's magic, the player and TV do the same for antiquated DVD, Blu-Ray and HD DVD discs, and many was the movie you had altered in this way.
Your computer, with a monitor equally large and projecting an equally interactive image, allowing you to operate the unique operating system by moving about in it, was by far the most advanced in the world. In addition to its own operating system, it had solid-state drives of 300 zettabytes each holding a different operating system. You knew that you would never run out of data drives--already, the Goddess had informed you, your computer was capable of storing the exact quantum data of the entire universe every attosecond for a hundred billion millennia. Even the RAM could hold that same data stretching over a period of ten billion millennia. The processor had, through an astounding application of the Goddess's infinite control over reality, infinitely many cores, enabling it to perform any operation instantaneously.
The rest of the apartment was similarly advanced, from the machine that produced any food you wished, tasting as if it were served fresh at a specialty restaurant, to the hoop through which you could throw anything dirty--laundry, plates, cutlery--and have it become completely clean. Unless you needed to relax, you also used it instead of taking showers.
When you had guests, unfortunately, your apartment became just that--a college student's apartment.
You shuck your clothes as you walk over to the shelf of discs. Idly rubbing a HHH-cup tit with a hand each, you pump your semi-erect dick with two hands, and finger your juicy pussy with two more. Your final pair goes through the discs until you find one you like.
You insert the disc in the player and immediately the scene materialises, frozen. Holly Hannah Halton is sitting at a desk in a schoolroom, easily filling out the uniform and looking downcast. A marker indicates that you should assume the role of the teacher. You smile and do so.
"Now, Ms. Halton, you've been a bad girl," you say.
"Yes, Mr. Jones," she replies demurely.
"Bad girls need to be punished," you say, sternly.
"How will you punish me?"
You beckon her up to your desk. "Take off your clothes. I want to see the goods before I buy."
Even this computer-controlled Holly Hannah Halton has a perfect body, and does a perfect striptease to show it to you.
You make a cursory walk around the figure before sitting down. "Get over here. I want your mouth on my cock, your tongue rubbing my clit, your hands on my tits and your ass in the air, ready for me to spank."
Holly obeys with alacrity, and soon she is screaming around your dick and her tongue as you slap her ass mercilessly.
"Enough of that," you say, throwing her off roughly. "Now get up and bend over so I can take you doggy-style, and then stay that way so I can take your ass, too."
True to your word, you screw her computerised brains out. As she lies on the floor in the afterglow of your hard fucking, you take out the disc, restoring your living room.
Only a favoured of the Goddess, you know, would have the privilege of having sex with even a computer recreation of Her mortal self. You smile.
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
