The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The Horses

Chapter 2 — I am ridden well and then saddled.

I silently stare ahead as Greg drives, because he told me to. I can still feel his tight asshole on the shaft of my cock. We arrive at single-story track housing in a featureless suburb. He gets out and opens the car door for me. His wife is at the door in a black cocktail dress. She is as tanned and fit as her husband and has the same piercing blue eyes. She stares at me. I look away. I can’t work out what she is thinking. Does she know? Has she guessed? I fucked her husband less than an hour ago and I obey him unquestioningly. Just thinking about it make me start to go stiff again.

We enter the house as he introduces her to me. Her name is Emily. He bades me sit on the sofa in the lounge. They talk in a strange sing-song language to each other. She lifts up the front of her dress, parts her legs and he sticks two fingers into her pussy. I watch all this dully and impassively, as if I am not there. She nods as he takes his fingers out and licks them clean. Emily reaches down the the hem of her dress and pulls it over her head in one clean move. She is naked underneath, shaven with an unbroken and even tan. Her nipples are erect. Her clit is out of its hood. I start to go stiff again. Greg tells me to stand and strip and starts to undress as well. I see Emily walk into the bedroom and flex her body and then her skin is glistening in the lamplight. Greg takes my hand the leads me to her.

Emily lies on the bed and spreads her legs. Her breathing is even. Greg pats me on the butt and points at his wife. “She’s ready.”, is all he says. “I’m wet, come fuck me.”, says Emily.

I crawl on the bed and mount her. She is slick and smooth and I grunt as I fuck her, ramming my cock deep into her pussy. I see Greg move behind me. I feel something warm and wet on my asshole which lightly burns the skin and my ass muscle stretches until it hurts. I look around and see Greg spurting gouts of come over my ass from his thick cock. He fingers his come inside me, moving in time to my rhythmic pounding of his wife. I am wide open to him and I indicate I want him inside. He climbs on top of me and I feel his stiff flesh opening me up. I feel complete, perfect, finished, with a sense of absolute belonging. I can’t stop. I don’t want to.

Emily puts her mouth on mine and we lock tongues and I drink her juices down. My body reacts again and my hips start bucking outside of my control. Greg’s cock fills my ass and I feel a warm stinging as he stretches my ass with his thrusts. Emily’s hard nipples dig into my chest. Greg grabs his wife’s hips to force me deeper inside her as she grabs mine to do the same. He starts speaking in this keening sing-sing language again. And Emily pulls her head away from me to do the same. Then I come, pumping my juices into Emily. Greg starts coming filling me up to bursting point.. I feel Emily’s muscles squeeze me. The spasm of pleasure fills my body, and the cramps I feel as Greg’s come pushes out of my rectum and deeper into me is a relief from this non-stop pleasure. Again I feel that Emily is pumping something into me through my cock like Greg did earlier, but I don’t care. I will never care about anything ever again.

My breath is raw and ragged. I hear a ticking on the bedside table. It is not a clock but a cigar box or some such. The lid opens and out crawls crab-like creature. It scuttles off the table, along the bed and up my arm. I look at it as it does so. This is not my body, I think. I am just an orgasm right now. Nothing else matters. It can do what it wants. It crawls up to the back of my neck, its legs pricking my skin as it does so, a welcome contrast to this non-stop whole-body orgasm I am having. I look round. Emily is watching me with amusement. I feel the creature cutting in to the back of my neck. I don’t mind. I feel the new opening it is forming in my body as it slides something in me. The something slithers up my spine and I feel a pressure at the back of my head. I reach back to feel the opening it made in me. It is a slightly moist seam in my skin. Emily looks past me to Greg and says something in the strange language. Greg replies and he pulls out of me, pumping more of his juices into my rectum to fill me up as he does so. I feel my own muscles pushing the hot come into my body. Emily pushes me off her. The orgasm carries on. I can’t move. I don’t want to.

They keep talking in this keening language as they walk away. The orgasm fades away slowly. The pressure on the back of my head lessens and spreads. I feel something new. I can feel the curves and folds of my own brain I have tendrils in my head, hundreds of them, and I can move them inside my body . I feel a blood vessel with a tendril and join with it. I can feel my own pulse from the inside. I stretch more of these tendrils down through me. It is a wonderful new set of sensations. I can explore my own body from the inside. The tendrils expand, as if they had been deflated and folded for a thousand years. I want to touch all of my insides, to spread them all through my body. I want to tell Greg and Emily what is happening to me. I see something on the bed. It is the crab-like creature, or at least its shell it is now clearly empty. It is fragile and brittle and begins to crumble under my touch, no matter how gentle I am.

The keening language Greg and Emily are using begins to have meaning. I begin to understand it. The different rising and falling notes so intricate and detailed, subtle nuances each having a distinct meaning when combined. It is a language of sensations. I begin to feel Emily’s breasts, her stiff nipples, her engorged clitoris, the pounding sensations of her pussy when I was fucking her, Greg’s fingers inside her. Greg’s speech is about his fucking my body, I feel the inside of my rectum from his cock’s sensations, his fingers on my ass muscles, how his rectum felt as I was fucking him and the delicate tendrils he inserted into my cock slit to pump his juices into me, how he kept my orgasm going for an age. Then I start the keening myself. It is so simple, yet subtly complex. I stand and look down at my body, understanding it for the first time, how it works, how I can change it.

I walk into the lounge. Greg and Emily are sitting there, cross-legged on the floor talking in this language. Our clothes have been neatly folded into piles. I convey the sensations, being fucked and fucking, Greg’s come filling my ass. Emily’s tendrils in her pussy reaching into my cock and filling my bloodstream with her juices, making me ready for implantation. My tendrils reach down into my digestive system and drink up the come Greg pumped into me. It is bliss. I want more.

Emily stands and walks to the kitchen, keening all the time. I see through her eyes as she takes a pressure cooker off the stove opens it and pours some ice water in to too cool it down. I smell the complex organic chemistry. I can see how the molecules fit and I understand this is my nourishment. Like Greg, I crouch and spread my ass cheeks and open myself up. Emily enters with the cooling mixture in the pan. She takes a handful and shoves it into my asshole. My tendrils grab the mixture and direct it towards a larger tendril with an opening which swallows the mixture. My body stiffens as it responds to the feeding. I feel glands in the tendril moving the mixture through my body. Emily shoves some more mixture into my asshole. I keen with pleasure as each handful enters me. The nourishment is enough for me to start growing more tendrils and other organs. I stand as Emily bends over and start feeding her through the ass, wiping the excess from her anus and pushing it into her rectum. The together, we feed Greg.

Greg tells me his story as we fill his asshole. There had been a meteor as he was driving alone on a dark Interstate. The electrics in his car had failed and he had just been able to pull over to the side before the car stopped. It had been a shallow impact and the track had been easy to follow. The meteor itself was about the size of a football. He had touched it and found he could not let go. In fact after a while he wanted to touch it more. He could not stop. He didn’t want to. The ball inserted needles into his fingers and he felt a mild electric charge. He fund he could not control his muscles. A tube projected out of the ball and he placed his mouth over it and let it pump fluid into him. The tube retracted and then he placed the ball on the back of his neck. When it was over. He drove home to implant his wife.

“There is one of our kind left in the ball.”, keens Emily.

“We will implant my wife.”, I say. It is obvious she was to be next. She would not stop us. She would not want to.

To be continued...