“How many infected out there?”
“Two.”
“How many slaves do they have with them?”
“At least sixty!”
It’s been a long few weeks since the breakout, or what those infected monsters call “The Wakeup”. It all started with some scientists researching some microscopic organism from some mystical otherworld. This organism, this virus… no, parasite, had the capacity to think. It had the capacity to escape from the lab and multiply. It traveled through the air and latched itself onto as many hosts as it could find.
Eight billion people lived on this planet. Eight billion and now a mere minuscule fraction of that population is why we now live in fear. The infected, these ruthless slavers transformed in both body and mind by the parasitic virus, are why we live in fear. This is not the zombie apocalypse we would have imagined. This is much different. This is almost worse.
There were two survivors holding up in an abandoned apartment building, hiding from the infected slavers. They’d armed themselves with sub machine guns, but were running dangerously low on rounds. The infected were bulletproof, but fortunately a good shot to the head would knock one unconscious long enough to escape. They wouldn’t be able to hide here from the infected much longer, but they at least had a chance to catch their breath. At the very least there were only two of them out there.
Suddenly, crashing through the ceiling with a large steel and concrete club, was a third infected. A third the survivors didn’t know about. It stood before them, a naked, seven foot tall plump woman with bright yellow skin. Its ears were sharp and pointed like an elf, and two sharp horns grew from its forehead, right along the hairline. It looked down at the two survivors with sultry green eyes, like a dog catcher staring down ragged strays. It licked its plump, pouty lips with a long, dexterous tongue, like a lion prowling its meal. Juices dribbled from its fat cunt, which was speckled with tiny black hairs. Its naked watermelonlike breasts swayed with every step, as it practically sashayed toward them.
The survivors brought their guns to bear and opened fire. In their fear, their aim was sloppy, and they couldn’t quite hit the infected’s knock-out spot. They only managed to stagger it a moment before they’d emptied their weapons. The infected laughed.
“Aww, did baby’s toy run out of bang?” it taunted in a sultry, almost motherly tone, “Ara ara~! That’s too bad! Now there’s nothing to save you from becoming Mommy’s playthings!”
This creature called itself an Oni Milf. It was born when the otherworldly parasite infected a normal human host, transforming them into a tall, horned, pointy-eared plump lady. Infected women stayed women, but infected men became hermaphrodites. The infected retained vague memories of who they used to be, but chose instead to embrace their new identities as dominating mommies. They swept the world, enslaving anyone who wasn’t infected and turning them into their personal playthings. The infected would augment their slaves, typically making them physically weaker and making them hung like heck regardless of if they were male or female. Some slaves escaped, but usually not for long. The Oni Milfs would always find them. It was only a matter of time.