The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Adult material warning: All prohibitions and conditions to reading material on this archive or adult material and attached to previous chapters still apply. And readers are legally responsible for having read them before proceeding.

Synopsis: Edge, Bourbon and Dick, their unwanted side-kick, have a series of fast and frantic adventures where we finally find out something about Edges “plumbing problems” , that Bourbon isn’t infallible, and what Dick is actually good for...

Authors Notes: Edge finally moves forward after a very healthy and lengthy layoff. Thanks to all those who haunted and harassed me to get it moving along again... it helped. A minor change in story format has been instituted concerning length and structure. When “Edge” book one is completed or maybe sooner I will go back and adjust the first thirteen installments.

Edge of Oblivion Chapt.# 14 Dick and Pussy Cause Hard Feelings

By Cait Copyright © 2001 All rights reserved

I.

Bourbon was definitely worse for wear and very singed. The smell of smoldering wet fur was singularly the most disgusting thing Edge had ever encountered with the possible exception of uncleaned pussy. Disgusting but more entertaining each time he experienced it. Three times and counting in the last three days. Someone else was on the butt of this running cosmic joke that had been his life (for once). Suddenly Edge realized why the Three stooges were funny. It wasn’t the pain they inflicted on each other so much as the hysterical relief it wasn’t you. Like the feeling he had now. When he got back he was going to rent out every tape of every short they had ever made and watch them end to end non-stop.

On the other hand Dick just sat there staring off into space like a giant brain-dead vegetable (as he had for most of the last three days as well).

Edge himself lay half in/ half out of the swampy marsh water face down blowing bubbles as he tried to regain something vaguely resembling control of his voluntary nervous system. He was more than one tasering, drugging, and a hundred and fifty foot fall off a waterfall onto rocks over the imaginary line between ok and not ok. From Bourbon’s perspective Edge resembled a beached fish, flopping around gasping pathetically for air. If Edge managed to stop breathing mud long enough to pull through and at least pick his head up, Bourbon reasoned, there might still be some hope of their being able to continue.

Edges first coherent thoughts were of Bourbons failed but somehow still successful escape plan, and (of course) the satisfying smell of roasting arrogance (I.E. cat). His thoughts then logically, painfully, turned to his own condition and the parts he hoped were still attached and against likelihood, hopefully unbroken. At this point he would settle on having the same number of parts he’d started with before he had tumbled over the falls head first. He couldn’t tell from his position in the icy cold and thankfully numbing water how bad it might be.

The last few days were rather at best a blur. And it was probably better that way he decided. The last thing he clearly remembered was being... separated from... an old friend (not Bourbon) that he was REALLY close too with a laser cutting device. Something about being horribly and painfully reunited. (Take a cutting, water it, and it’ll grow back).

Then, Wolf women, who proved to be more amazon than wolf, his friend reorienting for this occasion, (his?) being initiated in the tribe and made high priestess of the Grand Cunligitarian Order (that wasn’t an adaptation, it was more like an exaggeration in a comic book), having to take Dick as a mate to save him from being sacrificed and eaten by the wolf women (Bourbon would pay dearly for that one and definitely end up roast on a spit if he ever told a soul). And the best part? Mutant intelligent yeast’s, which infected (him?), and took control of his mind while he/she/it was in this freaky vulnerable cartoonish gender-bender state. So they could advance their insideous plans of domination and conquests. IF he understood any of it correctly (yeast had a unique set of thought processes ( and a strange fear of bread products, a fact he would keep in mind if he ever encountered them again...) were apparently plotting to use him as a carrier and transmitter of their army of mind control parasites throughout the know universes (or at least the female half of those universes) Their plan was an exponential mathematical thing. Everyone infected infected two people in turn who did the same ad-infinitum. Vaginites they had called themselves. But Edge was able to thwart their evil plans when (due to his unique qualities) they were unable to survive in him when he became his old self again and the environment upon which they lived (female secretions/ body temp/ moisture/ chemistry/ stuff that didn’t interest him as a manly..uh..man) and were completely dependent upon ceased to exist suddenly. Thank the God’s for male plumbing!

Next he remembered the excruciatingly painful expulsion of their corpses through the only means possible (jerking off), their being sealed in a hermetically sealed container, and something about... no he didn’t even want to think about it. But still he had to think about it, at least as far as his “part” was concerned. Whether it was still HIS part and whether it was even still attached, and worse whether he was in for another round of re-growing his lost appendage like a lizard or a plant might a part whacked savagely off. There was no way to be sure that he had gotten all of them.

Bourbons forewarning of the potential pain involved didn’t begin to describe it.

If that was the case he’d just prefer at this point that it stay wherever it was and he be done with it. If the fish had eaten it, good for them. He didn’t care to be a lizard or a plant.

For a second he considered the absurdity that maybe “IT” would grow another whole Edge, independent of him. It had done some freaky things after he had inadvertently made his ‘docking clamp”... universal, as Bourbon put it.

Finally he just decided that if it was gone then he’d just change his name to something nicely neutral and go about (his?) business, (IT had almost gotten him into more trouble than it was worth). Catching up with those damned slavers and avenging the bunny folk, bitch slapping that mind control bastard that had sucked him into all this crap until he bled from the eyeballs, and getting home and back to a nice alcoholic coma in his filthy but safe and quiet little hovel back on earth were what really mattered. Or even a nice little white padded room without a view or visitors would be nice at this point. As far as Edge knew cats were not allowed in such places.

Not really able to put it off no longer Edge unceremoniously and without much tact or an apology pulled the front of his jeans out so he could get a look at what was or wasn’t there. He knew how stupid he probably looked flashing himself.

“You’d think that would be the last thing you’d be thinking about right now,” Bourbon chuckled, having finally properly extinguished himself. Edge grunted angrily but it hardly dissuaded the charcoal black cat. “That and your recent attitude has been the cause of most if not ALL of our troubles.” Satisfied that all was as normal in the trouser department as it ever was likely to be again Edge concentrated on finding a rock large enough to throw at his furry sidekick. Edge was beaten , bruised waterlogged, and in no mood for Bourbon (unless it came in a bottle, the cat strained and squeezed for its juice would have done), and his revisionist history of the last few days. As Edge remembered it Bourbon and Dick had gotten them into more situations than they had gotten them out of. With the possible exception of that little minor “gun thing” at portal city. Not that Edge had kept a formal score or needed to... Bourbon was the cause of most of Edge’s troubles and had been for years.

II.

Edge’s growing resentment of his traveling companions didn’t evaporate nearly as fast as the freezing cold water from his clothes. This twisted world had gone from snowy, cold, and unbelievably wet to almost desert-like in less than half a days march. Mad hatters, and rabbits who were very late would have felt very much at home here.

Meanwhile as they traveled, Bourbon gave a complete resertation in the quantum multiverse physics involved in such worlds, but Edge really didn’t give a shit or bother to listen. Edge was again beginning to focus on the only rational constant through this whole through the looking glass adventure, the only thing that hadn’t changed, the only thing that mattered. Revenge.

Dick just quietly and oddly hummed indifferently to himself. From outward appearances it looked like Dick had checked out of the hotel sanity and hadn’t left a forwarding address. The lucky bastard, Edge thought to himself. Bourbon on the other hand grew more concerned as time passed and Dick continued his odd/ absentee behavior, and commented to Edge about it. “Don’t you find it at all odd?” Bourbon asked. Edge looked back at Dick the human anchor, bringing up the rear and as Edge kept observing mentally, slowing them down considerably. “I find it refreshing.” He finally commented when he realized that the cat was not going to just let the subject drop. “Not to have to deal with his inane banter is definitely... refreshing. Personally I like the quiet. I wish some other “people” were more like that and less distracting.". Bourbon ignored this obvious ploy. “still, something is amiss,” Bourbon added thoughtfully. “Something isn’t right. And considering what lies ahead we are going to need everything and everyone to be right.”

This stopped Edge in his tracks. He spun angrily on the cat. “I have had quite enough of your observations, vagalities, generalizations, hints, and obscure references to things that have yet to happen. Why don’t we try something new, something radical?” Edge was screaming at the diminutive cat which calmly preened and cleaned through the tirade. “Like?” Bourbon asked patiently when he was sure it was over. “Like just telling me what the fuck is going to happen, S.P.E.L.L. it out, save me the wear and tear on my cryptic references dictionary, assemble the puzzle, make things clear, save me getting my ass kicked or blown up or cut up, or captured, just once in a while, eh?” The cat mused this all over. Sat quietly thinking, did a little preening, and finally simply calmly said: “Sorry, I can’t do that” and padded away the way they had been going before Edge had stopped.

Edge stood there simply unable to respond. Flabbergasted, if he properly understood the meaning of the word. He just stood there watching the cat shrink into the distance. Hoping it would vanish and NOT reappear. He even stood there as Dick, in his zombie-like state, slowly walked by. He stood there until the cat, now just a dot on the horizon called loudly back, “Are you coming?”

Edge did the only thing he could think to do. He resigned himself to the fact that the universe (possibly universes) hated him personally and followed Bourbon into the jaws of death (he could only hope) and dark adventure, as he always did when he was at a loss for a better course of action.

II.

“Let me get this straight...” Edge just couldn’t believe what Bourbon had just said, and Bourbon was totally amused with Edge’s usual level of confusion. “Dicks, uh Head is...". “The key, or part of it anyway,” Bourbon completed without missing a beat or changing his matter-of-factual tone. “So we...” “Insert him and turn the key,” Bourbon finished. “And then...?” Edge prompted. “We do what we came to do.” “Which is...?” “Use the key on the gate.” (sigh)

“What gate?” Edge looked around, there was simply nothing that looked even vaguely like a gate, but then again Dick didn’t look much like a key, and the walk-in freezer back home and a lot of other gates hadn’t been “gates” strictly speaking either. He simply shrugged. “Do we need Dick or just...dick?", Edge thought out loud, casting Dick a funny kind of look. He wasn’t strictly speaking homophobic or did he actually hate Dick BUT the idea of going home and having to explain that Dick was arguably in another universe anyway, kinda his husband... that was too much! Bourbon made an odd sound that was essentially “cat laughter”. “We need the whole key, not just (laughs again) the part that fits the lock. Now Edge’s curiosity was aroused and thankfully for Dick leading away from that last thought. “What sort of lock would such a key fit?” Bourbon smiled. The answer was obvious. “So... is it a statue of a woman or an object shaped like...you know a female part or something like that?” “Nope, she should be somewhere nearby.” “What!” Edge sputtered. “You’re telling me that we are looking for one particular woman?” Bourbon nodded. “I love to watch you r mind work. It’s an amazing process.” Edge had to sit down. A question he didn’t want to ask but needed the answer to formed in his mind. He took a deep breath and fired it off in the most level tone he could manage. “And how exactly do we find this, lock?” Silence. “Do we have Dick try every possible keyhole or what?” Edge continued when the silence didn’t end with a practical answer. Bourbon remained silent. “Well!” Edge insisted growing emotional as he did when Bourbon gave him no answer to a reasonable question. Finally Bourbon responded. Cryptically, but it was an answer. “The key will ultimately lead us to the lock.” Edge took this badly. There was only one thing Bourbon could do that made him madder than getting no help from the cat, that was getting a cryptic less then no help answer from the cat. Edge loved walking blind into situations Bourbon could probably help them avert. He wasn’t asking for a complete outline of things to come just a little hint and help. “Fuckin cat...” he muttered and stormed off. “Ask a simple question...” “What are we going to do? Have Dick screw every woman we meet? Excuse us ma’am but would you please fuck our friend?". Edge’s gesticulations and verbal tirade faded into the darkness. “He’ll be back when he’s worked it through, or out, or has smashed something,” Bourbon said quietly to no one in particular. “There’s still time,” He added darkly, more cryptically than the situation SEEMED to indicate. Then Bourbon looked up ominously at the night sky as of looking intently for something, “at least for now.”

Chapter 15 (teaser for next installment)

Synopsis: Those waiting patiently for Edge to get some more wild, sloppy, kinky sack time, FINALLY get what they’ve been waiting for in...

“Alas Poor Dick I Knew Him Well... Not That Well!”

“So how was it?” Bourbon asked in his usual indifferent tone. Edge just shook his head slowly, still trying to shake off the effects of...of... of.. what? A plant, a strange spore cloud was all he remembered. That and something about an urge to.. to... to...pollinate? That couldn’t be right. That was a bad episode of “Star Ship/Trip”, something like that, that he had seen years ago.

“You’re more versatile than even I imagined Bourbon continued sounding extraordinarily sincere. “Go figure, cross species/ any sex were foreseeable side effects, but cross kingdom...wow. Impressive. Even managed to save our bacon.”

It was hard enough to make sense of what Bourbon was trying to less than tactfully tell him under normal circumstances. Through the haze Edge wasn’t getting any of it. But then again he thought to himself , Bourbon wasn’t all that understandable even when he wasn’t so out of it.

Edge went to take a step and stumbled over some sort of strange roots. He managed to protect his face but not much more. He sat up slowly, finally actually managing to get the world to come partially into focus. “Take it slow”, bourbon said. “You’ve been through something really amazing.” As Edges senses returned his patience disappeared. “Plain english, no cryptic shit. What happen...” It was then Edge got his first good look at the roots he had tripped over. They were his! Or they were growing or was it retracting into him? He did what any he man in this situation would have, he screamed hysterically and tried to crawl backwards and away from the woody appendages attached to his lower legs. Suddenly fragmentary (yet horrifying) parts of what had happened flooded back, and Bourbon, undisturbed by any of these weird occurrences flatly restated what was now obvious; “You screwed a plant.” Edge moaned and thereafter kept perpetually moving as Bourbon filled in the details. He had an irrational feeling if he stopped he’d root and be finished. No matter how many times Bourbon went over the fact that that wouldn’t happen it didn’t set edge, well...off edge or even slightly at ease. Even though all his parts had returned to normal what had happened had rattled him severely. Suddenly Edge stopped his pacing as a terrible thing happened, something that never ever happened to him. He had a flashback.... and the last three days came screaming into perfect focus.