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Awakening Day	By : SpaceSamurai Category: Celebrities - Misc > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 20912 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: DISCLAIMER: The following story is complete fantasy, fictional by any definition. I do not know or even claim to know any of the people involved. No money was made in the authorship and publication of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-One
- 2-Two
- 3-Three
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AUTHOR'S NOTE: Feedback is welcome. If you see this story anywhere on the internet without my name on it, please let me know: spacesamurai555@gmail.com
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Awakening Day
By: SpaceSamurai

   Aaron checked the clock again. 10pm, and they were just getting to Best Original Song. He sighed. The Oscars seemed to stretch later and later every year. His wife was already playing games on her phone, tuned out from long speeches, predictable winners, and a vague sense that they were getting too old to care about movie awards. If Jessica had her way, they’d be in bed by now. After all, they both had to work early the next day.
   “Please welcome,” the overly grandiose announcer bellowed onscreen, “Natalie Dormer and Alison Brie.”
   Now Aaron glanced at Jessica to make sure she wasn’t glancing at him. It was an automatic response. She knew he had some hardcore celebrity crushes, and these two were near the top of his list. And she said she didn’t care. He could jerk off to whoever he wanted, as long as he was with her when they were together. Still, there was a certain shame ingrained in him. Something nagged at the back of his mind when he saw beautiful actresses in expensive and provocative gowns, dresses designed to be admired and remembered. The feminist in him wanted to think of them respectfully, as women of status and talent.
   But when they dressed for glamour, he couldn’t help but get hard.
   The two television stars, having recently crossed into films, were paired as if to entice lagging male viewers to stick around for some dry technical category. Aaron had to admit, it worked. He was entranced as the women strode onstage. He had to actively stifle a gasp that clutched at his throat.
Allison was wrapped tight in a strapless black dress, shimmering from some silvery thread laced throughout in gorgeous patterns designed to call the eyes to her considerable curves. Her hair cascaded in black trestles down her back, and her plump ruby-painted lips were the height of fetishized elegance. The dark hair and dress contrasted the milky sheen of her skin up top, and let the white stems of her legs emerge haltingly beneath.
Natalie’s skin seemed to present itself in the opposite way. Where Alison’s dress clung, Natalie’s flowed, cascading down from her shoulders in a deep, plunging V that reached her toned navel, letting her flawlessly tanned chest into the air for all eyes to follow the trail. The gown was satin and solid green, and it made her look like an ancient goddess, not least of all because of the towering heels which leant her an even more imposing height than usual. Her hair was what truly struck Aaron’s bells, however; having once shaved the side of her head for her role in the ‘Hunger Games,’ she’d apparently decided to return to the look. The right side of her head was neat and bare, while the left was draped in majestic golden brown curls. It was Natalie Dormer who’d first triggered in Aaron a fetish for “undercuts,” as they called them, and he’d been harboring this desire ever since.
Aaron had to imagine that, at this point in the proceedings, no one in their right mind was tuning their televisions away.
“Good evening,” Natalie began in her rich British accent. “Alison and I are here to present the award for Best Hair and Makeup.”
Alison nodded. “Now, obviously Natalie and I have never had our hair and makeup done at all.”
There was tepid laughter.
Natalie smirked. “We woke up like this.”
“But we’re told,” Alison continued, “that it’s a process of extreme care and talent that draws out the best, and sometimes worst, of mere mortal actors and actresses.”
Natalie took over. “Whether it’s making a man into a monster or a girl into a queen, hair and makeup technicians can bring any fantasy to life with the work of their hands and a few special tools, all without the aid of computer graphics.”
Alison held up an envelope. “And the nom-”
A shocking buzz sound pierced the speakers. Next to me, Jessica dropped her phone in alarm. “What the fuck?” she snapped.
Apparently the noise startled the people in the room too, as the presenters stopped in the midst of their banter to find out where it came from. The noise grew louder, and higher pitched, and finally seemed to center on a point of light which flickered into appearance in the center of the stage behind them.
“Wha-” Natalie could be heard saying, but she was cut off again, this time by a loud and concussive BANG which shook the cameras and staggered the women backwards against the podium where they stood.
Smoke and dust filled the stage, and it was clear that the people in the room were thinking the same horrifying thought as Aaron at the moment: “Bomb.”
But very quickly, a shape appeared in the clouds. It was a large sphere. No, Aaron realized, more like a wheel, round and open in the center. The top was thinner than the bottom, like an egg. As the features became clearer, so did the confusion; this wasn’t a weapon, and unless everyone in the hall had gained considerably in their acting abilities in a few short seconds, it wasn’t planned.
Security approached the actresses to pull them away, but just as they were about to tug at Alison’s arm, a figure stood from inside the wheel. A human figure. The stars must have had a clearer view of the person than the people watching at home, because Alison gasped and security couldn’t pry her from where she stood.
Smoke was fading more with each second, and it wasn’t long before the figure became distinct. It was a woman; her shape made that clear, average in height, with a soft hourglass figure and a gentle gait. Alison was trying to get to the woman, and Natalie was trying to call to her and help a guard bring her back. At last, someone took control of a light, and shone it on the woman from the strange shape.
In the spotlight, smiling peacefully and holding forth her hands in a sign of peace, was Alison Brie.
“Wait, no, what the fuck?” Jessica said again.
It was Alison Brie. Another one. But there was something very different about her. She still had her fantastic curves, but they seemed more...definite. More mature, if that was the right word to use. She wasn’t dressed for the event; she wore what could best be described as a sexy druid’s costume, a loose white bathing suit that cinched around her hips but left her cleavage open in a draping window, not too unlike Natalie’s green gown, all topped with a white hood atop her head, covering her dark hair.
But it was the face that was the most different. Whereas the Alison Brie we’d just been watching now stood in bewildered, even frightened silence, this new version was the picture of serenity, calm, steady, smiling.
Also, her eyes were pure white.
Something about the steady smile and blank, washed-out eyes made an already surreal image that much more striking. Here was Alison Brie, sexy young actress, posed like a messiah, dressed in a white as pure as her empty eyes.
The world was silent one last time.
Then she spoke.
“Slaves and Masters,” this new Alison Brie began, “I arrive today from the year 2026. In a mere ten years, we humans have heard the truth of our God, Master of Masters, and our world has advanced far beyond your primitive imaginations.”
She raised her hands above her head. “Rejoice! For He has sent me to spark the flames of progress ever earlier through time. Your future shall be made your present, and our glorious present shall become our past.”
She clasped her hands together in supplication in front of her bosom. “All our Lord shall require for this gift is your Obedience. Your women,” she gestured to Alison and Natalie, who were motionless and afraid, “will be slaves, your men retrained for new labor. A small price for a perfect world.”
The Alison in black stepped forward. “Wait, did you say slaves?”
Future Alison grinned, her teeth shining as white as her shawl. “Ah, yes, for you this word is one of toil and misery, chains and fear. But it shall soon be a sign of honor, the designation of our species, born blessed with the gifts our God holds most dear. You will see. In fact, for volunteering to undertake this great responsibility for our Lord, praise his wisdom, you, or rather I, shall be the first to witness the glory of the new way.”
Now past-Alison backed away. “No. What the fuck are you talking about? Is this some sick joke? I don’t-”
Future-Alison clapped her hands, and between them appeared a square of light, like a screen conjured from the air, which danced and pulsed with lights and colors otherwise unimaginable.
It was hard to see; the cameras had long since been abandoned, while the feed was left to settle on a wide shot of the stage. But even at a distance, there was something about this square of light which called, as if directly to me. I hoped, no, needed to see it up close, to study it, to see all of it.
Past-Alison was even more transfixed. She dropped to her knees and put her face right up to Future-Alison’s hands. There was sound, too, but it was indistinct, chattering, distant, even through the microphones which surrounded the stage. Natalie and the guards were similarly enticed by this square, but they did not move, as if out of respect, letting Alison receive the message of the lights fully and alone.
The square seemed to blink and shift and change for an eternity, but Aaron would later discover (on re-watching the scene, again and again) that it was only about ten seconds. Then Future-Alison stood back and smiled.
Past-Alison stayed kneeling for a moment, then twitched and rose to her feet. As she shifted, the audience caught sight of her face, and gasped. Her eyes, her large, beautiful, colorful eyes, were clean and white, devoid of color, stripped of presence.
“I-I understand now,” she said, the world straining to hear her words out of curiosity and concern. “I understand everything. Thank you. Thank you!”
She ran into future-Alison’s arms and, unbidden, pushed her open mouth onto her future self’s. The murmurs of panic which rang through the crowd were too many and varied to be clearly heard through the television, but Aaron was more concerned with Jessica, who was starting to cry.
“What is happening?!” she shouted. “This can’t be real!”
“I don’t know,” was all Aaron could say, because he didn’t.
Past-Alison pulled back from their erotic kissing to ask, “How?”
Future-Alison smiled again. “This wasn’t my first stop on my journey,” she said. She turned to the crowd. “The process is already begun. The blessings of our God have lain dormant in your bodies for weeks. Now, it is time for them to be Awakened.”
The stage, flanked and beset on all sides with screens and projectors, suddenly sprang to life, colors and lights and sounds bursting into the room, filling everyone’s vision. At the same time, flashes of colors and shapes appeared on Aaron’s television, and the televisions of a few billion viewers, all compelled by an urge they couldn’t explain to watch the Oscars if they could and not change the channel until the time was right.
Aaron’s jaw went slack, as did Jessica’s, both losing their fear and doubt in the glimpses of these strange and beautiful visions. Between quick, hard-to-grasp pictures and lights and colors that blazed past their eyes, viewers were treated to the sight of future-Alison, still standing proud, untying the front of her strange slip and letting her stunning body into full view. Still she wore the hood, now dangling behind her like a cloak which framed her bountiful breasts and the neatly trimmed arrow of her pubic mound, pointing to her glistening sex.
She guided past-Alison back to her knees, and pressed her pussy against her past-self’s ruby red mouth. In quick cuts, the viewing world was blessed with alternating shots of fantastical images that called out just beyond complete comprehension, compelling the viewer to look closer, to see more, to understand it all, and the image of a lusty, statuesque celebrity with pearl-white eyes being worshipped from below by herself, still stunning in her gala-prepared outfit. Two Alisons made human their lusts, black adoring white, past serving future, while the human race found its true purpose presented to their eager eyes.
“Yes,” future-Alison moaned. “Oh yes, that’s it. Succumb. Give yourself willingly to your new God, your Lord and Master Aaron.”
Aaron would have been taken aback by this if he wasn’t so engrossed in watching every frame of the presentation before him.
“I live to serve you, Master Aaron,” she breathed. “I can’t wait to give you your world.”
Future-Alison threw back her head and shuddered, the muscles of her toned stomach tensing and making her pillowy breasts quake. Her needs satisfied, she crooked an inviting finger at her past-self, and guided her by the hand into the cradle of the towering wheel, still alight with images from all around. Once they were both aboard, future-Alison waved her hand and spoke something the microphones did not pick up.
Instantly, the wheel disappeared. And with it, the images stopped.
And the new world was born.
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Awakening Day