The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Tamara’s men sat around her, staring. “Red One to Comms,” the overhead announcement repeated.

“Seriously?” Doug, a pudgy die-hard retro-rocker whose only spoils of the early-apocalypse looting was every Metallica tee-shirt in the Value Village, was the first to speak up.

“You heard the big voice in the sky,” Tamara muttered around a mouthful of powdered mashed potatoes. “We’re needed.”

“We just sat down for lunch,” piped the deceptively scrawny sharpshooter to Tamara’s immediate left. He was, by far, the deadliest shot in the hospital—a country boy from outside of town who had the good fortune of being in the hospital stronghold next to his dying mother as everything fell to shit (as well as the poor fortune of being in the hospital for the subsequent attack).

Tamara smiled. “Report it to your union rep, then, H.”

H fished a little stone Moai necklace from his shirt. “Mommy, His Highness is makin’ me work on my break.” Tamara and her crew had a system—a coping mechanism of sorts—where each carried a trinket of no particular value or meaning that they called ‘union rep’—something to listen to them whine to if they needed to blow off steam. “Also, Big Red keeps lookin’ at me like she wants to do bad things to me. Sexual things. It degrades me as a gentleman, and a human being, and I’d like to file a complaint with HR.”

Tamara chuckled. “Keep dreaming, Tex.”

“You know what they say about H—just a little taste ’ll get you hooked.”

“They also say H is only good if you like sticking yourself with a tiny needle,” added Nina, Tamara’s third gun—and number two while Hendrix was on crutches with a broken leg.

Nina was the only member of the six-man active team who really fit their proper archetype—at least in Tamara’s mind. She was a lithe and muscular action heroine type who had been trained for power and grace since she could walk. Tamara had gotten her drunk once and forced her to confess about her past; apparently she was the black sheep of a Romanian gymnastic royalty, ostracized due to the fact that she was too tall for gymnastics by the time she was eight. Her parents compensated by forcing her to train Cirque du Soleil-style circus skills before everything fell apart. Parkour, acrobatics, trapeze, tightrope, aerial silks, juggling, knife throwing—in training for the circus, she had inadvertently acquired a skill set that would, through her teenage years and into her current stage of adulthood, earn her the disturbingly apt nickname “Ninja”.

H grasped for words, but found himself at a loss, causing Nina to celebrate by making a ‘half-inch dick’ hand gesture.

Tamara finally relinquished her fork to the half-full plate of powdered mash, corkboard meatloaf, and green slop that was presumably vegetable-based, signaling her men to do the same.

When they reached Comms—the old Visitor Information Desk of the hospital—they were coldly greeted by the man known simply as Prince—King’s oldest son.

“We were pulled five minutes into our first break in eight hours, and King can’t even greet us in person?”

“My father’s got a limited window with a new toy,” Prince sighed indifferently. “Which means I’ll be in charge for the next two weeks.”

Prince gestured to a stack of paper on the desk. “You should be familiar with this.”

Tamara nodded. “We assembled most of it.”

“Good. Take care of it then, would you?”

The men looked at each other as Tamara quickly thumbed through the stack of field reports. “What’s changed?”

Prince looked at them, his eyes showing a flash of genuine shock that they were still in his office. “What was that?”

“As far as I can tell, there’s nothing new in here. King thought it was too risky, and told us to sit on this one ’til we had more information.”

Prince stared at them, nodding as though to respond, ‘Point being?’

“As far as I can tell, there’s no new information here. So what’s changed?”

Prince shrugged. “It’s the same button, my dear; just a different finger pushing it.”

Tamara took a deep breath, leafed through the notes again, and nodded. She’d actually pushed for action on this one herself, but King had shot her down.

“Right then,” Prince said with a callous smile as he turned to walk out of the room, adding over the shoulder as he disappeared into the hall, “You can take it from here.”

“So, what’s going down?” asked the dark-skinned Ensign Ricky—fifth member of Tamara’s squad, a young, muscle-bound kid who had been placed just last week.

Of course, Ricky wasn’t his real name; Tamara and the boys had taken to calling all new recruits Red Shirts and referring to them as Ensign Ricky—partly a cruel joke, partly a reference to the (now-obscure in the absence of the rerun) Star Trek series, and partly another coping mechanism meant to keep recruits at arm’s length to avoid a weepy send-off when they inevitably get themselves killed. While her regular members had uncharacteristically long life spans for the job they did, there were seldom more than six who were fighting-fit at any given point in time out of a talent pool of twenty veterans. Fractures, ligament damage, major lacerations, internal damage leading to surgeries—part of why they were known as being immortal wasn’t because they didn’t die often, but because they probably should.

The Red Shirts, on the other hand, had a nearly 70% casualty rate on their first outing. Over 90% didn’t make it past two. And if they survived three, they officially became Red Immortals: The King’s scalpel, the best of the best, the honor and glory and all the other bullshit Tamara couldn’t convince the Red Shirts not to believe.

King liked to send them on tough jobs because he loved them, and they loved him back. He lavished Tamara and her men (and she referred to them as ‘men’ or ‘boys’ herself, despite the fact that just under half of them were women) with all the luxuries most had to do without—an entire three-bedroom townhouse to themselves, hot water 24/7, solar panels on the roof, and access to the hospital power grid for 3 hours a day.

Prince, however didn’t love them. And whenever King got too lost in his work to manage the day-to-days, it seemed Prince liked to send them on tough jobs because he hated them.

“Prince being Prince,” Doug muttered.

“So?”

“So we get told what to do, and we do it. I figured you’d know that by now.”

“No,” said Ricky-2, a pretty petite Hindi girl who couldn’t have been more than 18, and definitely didn’t look like she should be anywhere near Tamara’s outfit. “He meant to ask about the mission specifics.”

H gave a half-hearted, defeated laugh. “I think Dough-boy he knew that, sweetheart, he was being sarcastic. I can’t imagine why you were recommended to us for intelligence.”

Ricky-2 grit her teeth and started, “I was brought in for recon, not the sort of intel—“. Interrupted by her own realization that she was literally spelling out the joke, she stopped, bowed her head, and dipped into the shadows of the far corner of the room.

Seeing her small figure nearly vanish into a tiny unlit corner, H smiled as he finally realized, for the first time in two weeks of babysitting her through guard duty, why she’d been brought on.

Tamara pulled a map from the wall and laid it on the table. “This is dog country,” she said, drawing a large ring around the southwestern corner of town. “Nobody goes in or comes out of there without a vehicle, because the place crawls with the bastards. And those who do pass through don’t stop. The Rickies are probably too young to remember, but King used to be a bit obsessed with what those dogs were guarding, but the recons we sent in—the smart ones that came back, anyways, they couldn’t see a big group of them gathered around any one building.”

Tamara reached blindly into the file—having poured over it as obsessively as King himself back in the day—and retrieved a photograph of a dead hound, its sides tattooed with the number 14, its ear drooping under the weight of a big yellow tag. “H got the idea of tagging and tracking them, hoping they’d lead us to whatever they’re guarding.”

Tamara flipped the sheet, where a photocopied map of the town ad had been taped. Trails meandered away from dog country, some wandering into the old suburbs, some heading away from town, some with much shorter trails wandering towards the hospital and ending 80 yards from the wall. “What we found,” she continued, “wasn’t a sentry guarding some secret stronghold. All of them were leaving. H figured out that they weren’t guarding anything; they were spawning there and migrating out.”

“We kept an eye on the area for months,” H said. “Didn’t find anything conclusive, but the fact that there’s no incoming dogs and so goddamn many coming outta there makes me think ‘puppy mill’.”

“That’s one theory,” Tamara said, shooting H a glare. “King and I think it might be more of a hive.”

“Hive?” asked Ricky 1.

“All the dogs we’ve ever shot in the streets have been males. It would make sense if they bred like ants, where you have your female tucked away in cozy comfort while the drones go out into the real world.”

“If that were the case,” H said, anger he’d buried when the file was put to rest once again bubbling to the surface, “they’d be bringing back food. Only traffic we’ve seen inbound are local stragglers scraping for supplies. They’ve gotta be coming in somewhere around here. I’d bet cold beers and hot showers there’s a demon somewhere in there, dancin’ around in a little dark room, pullin’ Fido outta space to shit on our lawn.

Tamara shrugged. “Either way, we’ve pinpointed a couple of potential hives and summoning grounds, and I wanted to sweep-and-clear all the potentials, one by one.”

“Starting with the mills,” H nodded. “It was a good plan, but King did have a good point; we’d be going blind into close-quarters, in a land full of hungry man-eaters—“ H turned to Nina to add, “No offense” before resuming, “and all for a prize we don’t even know for sure exists. Odds of us coming back in one piece would be somewhere in the negatives, by my math.”

“He does like to make us bleed,” Doug muttered.

“Yet he hates to see us bleed for him,” Tamara smiled. “Let’s get this done and shove it in his face.”

‘All clear?’ Tamara signaled to the tall building in the distance.

Tamara had to squint to make out Doug’s thumb, H poised at the ready.

“If you’re waiting for circus music,” Tamara grinned, “I’d be happy to oblige.”

“Gee, that never gets old,” Nina returned.

“It won’t ’til it stops bugging you.”

With that Nina did what she does—threw gravity the bird and crawled up the brick façade of the building, leaping to the sills of boarded up windows, digging her fingers and the toes of her climbing shoes into the crevices between bricks. It was an astonishing sight that Tamara didn’t often get a chance to see; most of the missions that employed Nina like this were conducted at midnight.

As Nina popped over the edge, Tamara looked to the girl-Ricky. “Okay, you’re up.”

She-Ricky swallowed hard, but, not wanting to mess up her first mission, turned to the brick wall, carefully placing a hand on the outer bit of the window sill as she shakily jammed the toe of her boot into the wall. She slipped twice before finally managing to find that one tricky angle that would hold her weight against the mortar. She carefully lifted her other foot off the ground when—

A thunk on the top of her head sent She-Ricky’s heart racing as she dropped six inches to the ground. Taking a moment to gather herself, she realized what had hit her: A rope.

“You’re a very linear thinker, aren’t you?” Tamara asked.

For the first time with the Red Immortals, She-Ricky found it in her heart to laugh at herself. “I almost had it,” she said, turning to Tamara and waiting for her joke to be acknowledged. When the pale redhead’s lips curled, She-Ricky took the rope and started shimmying her way to the roof.

The suspected mill was a shitty apartment building, four floors high, with absolutely every window boarded up. The watches had never seen anyone driving anywhere near the place, and the guest parking lot was an above-ground that absolutely crawled with the bastards from dusk ’til dawn. In fact, that’s why it was the number one target: The boards looked like they’d been up since the shit storm, and the place had been completely uninhabitable for the months before the angels came. The perfect place for unwanted things to go unnoticed.

Unsurprisingly, the door to the roof had been heavily barricaded as well. And, given that the intruders didn’t want to call attention, that meant painstakingly dismantling the impromptu reinforcements, nail-by-nail.

Tamara walked to the edge of the roof and signaled, ‘2, afternoon, tomorrow’.

She had trouble making out the response, but the fact that Doug was trying to signal back meant that he most likely got it. ‘2, afternoon, tomorrow,’ she repeated to be safe.

“Red?” He-Ricky whispered, raising his hand like a child in a classroom.

Tamara nodded.

“What did that mean?”

“It meant they’re going to come for us if we’re not out by tomorrow afternoon.”

When the boards cartoonishly nailing the door shut were removed, Nina gave the handle a gentle turn and, surprised to feel the door give, cracked it open. She produced a pistol and pressed it to her lips to shush her gibbering peers. Very slowly edging the door open until she could prop it up with her foot, she stared down into the darkness.

‘Ricky 2 go’ she signaled.

She-Ricky took a deep breath and nodded, reaching into her fanny pack to produce a pair of night vision goggles and a combat knife, both of which looked comically out of place on her.

Her gear at the ready, She-Ricky disappeared into the shadows.

Over an hour passed before a dim light flickered on at the end of the hallway—the unmistakable buzz of a halogen lamp.

Tamara slowly pulled the cocking handle of her AK as Nina once again held her pistol at the ready. Behind them, He-Ricky held his shotgun at the ready, cocking it mightily like a damn action hero.

Both of the girls turned to give him a chastising look. The action-pump was great for intimidating people, but He-Ricky clearly had no goddamn idea how to employ stealth.

Though she wouldn’t openly admit it, Tamara gave serious consideration to sending Ricky-1 first in hopes that he’d get himself killed, simply so that he wouldn’t place Nina—probably Red Squad’s most irreplaceable asset—in harm’s way.

“Are you friendly?” a voice came from the bottom of the stairwell.

Nina gave Tamara a questioning look. Ricky stepped forward and opened his mouth to answer the question himself, but was very abruptly cut off by the dull edge of Nina’s knife flashing through the air and striking his throat.

“As friendly as you are. Are you alone down there?”

The glow of the lantern came closer as the woman holding it approached. “Technically, I’m never alone,” the woman said as she came around the corner. Her complexion was much what you’d expect from someone who had never seen the light of day, but she had a beautiful, smooth-skinned face, dark hair, deep brown eyes that didn’t flash with the slightest hint of fear or malice. Of course, the most notable feature was the fact that she was completely naked—and, by the looks of her, pregnant just past the point where she’d started to show. Her nipples were a dark shade of red and slightly chapped; Nina’s skilled eye could actually catch a rivulet of liquid forming at the tip.

“I take it you’re Raina’s friends?” she said with a smile.

Raina? Huh. “Yeah,” Tamara said, mentally adding an ‘I guess’.

“She told me you’d be up here. Steve’s been giving her the grand tour.”

“Is Steve your husband?”

“Oh, heavens no,” the naked woman said, still bubbly and joyful in spite of the fact that Red and her team still had their guns trained on her unborn child. “Steve’s the caretaker around here. Sammy’s the father of my children—still not a husband, I guess, on account of there not being many ministers these days.”

“Can we meet Steve?”

“Last I saw, he was taking Raina down to tour the basement. I’ll take him to you—Oo, I should introduce you to Sammy on the way. He loves to meet new people.”

Without waiting for a response, the naked woman turned on her heel and started down the hall.

Ricky lowered his shotgun and started down after her, not even looking to Nina and Tamara as he followed the woman.

The two veterans gave each other an annoyed look. ‘Ricky,’ Nina signaled.

Tamara replied with a shrug—the universal sign for ‘Yep. Fucking Ricky.’

The two women quickly darted down the stairwell, feet light, weapons high, following just outside of the light that glowed around Ricky and the pregnant woman.

“It’s really great that you’re starting a family—you know, in the middle of all this” Ricky gushed. “How far along are you?”

“A few weeks,” the woman said. “I wouldn’t exactly say starting, though—we’ve got a couple little ones in our commune.”

“ I don’t suppose you’ve got girls about my age in the commune, would you?”

Tamara shuddered slightly. Does that dumb meat sack actually think they’re a nudist commune?

Nina shook her head slightly in spite of herself, harboring similar thoughts, wishing for ‘the brown dwarf’ back.

All three of them stopped in place as what sounded like an idling Harley resonated through the walls. The woman continued a few steps, before turning over her shoulder. “Something wrong?”

“Lady,” Ricky said as he very slowly raised his weapon.

The deep growl came again, this time much closer, and decidedly more organic.

“Step out of the way,” Ricky continued.

“Sammy, this is Terrance, the friend Raina was telling you about.”

Tamara and Nina, being at the far side of the light source, couldn’t see the beast that seemed to materialize from the darkness before Ricky.

As is the case with any nocturnal creature, its eyes materialized first. About chest-high on the well-built Ricky, and filled not with the bestial rage you see in the street hounds—these were more of a deliberate anger. A malice, even. The eyes of a child who was about to use a two-by-four to deliver swift justice to the bully who took his lunch money.

The rest of the beast didn’t materialize for a while—for the longest time, it was just those eyes—those fucking soul-crushing eyes—approaching closer and closer. The eyes seemed to pass the woman who was standing beside them, enter her light, and keep coming. It wasn’t until the outline of the figure, a sheen on its lush black fur, that Terrance, the he-Ricky, realized that it wasn’t as close as he thought. It was just absolutely fucking huge.

Shoulder-to-shoulder, toes to head, the creature was the size of a full-grown grizzly bear, though its shape was quite obviously more akin to that of a wolf.

“Sammy, why aren’t you saying hello?” the woman asked. “Isn’t—“ the woman trailed off, finally realizing that there was something very wrong.

“Step out of the fucking way or I swear to God,” Ricky said, hands shaking as his courage quickly fled through his fingers.

The creature hung still in the background in submissive hesitation—an action that Ricky would have realized were he a smarter man. But all he saw was a pair of eyes, and a dumb bitch who was decidedly less hot now that she was standing between him and a clear shot of the beast.

“Fine,” came the stupidest words to fall from Ricky’s mouth. In a violent flash, the creature was illuminated in its entirety as the lower-left of the woman’s chest disintegrated. In the light of the muzzle flash, the creature’s fur no longer seemed black, but instead a yellow-red that flickered like fire, and as small pieces of the woman splashed against the wall, the fire continued to burn violently, illuminating the hall in blinding light.

In the time it took Ricky to squeeze the pump, the creature had lunged so viciously that the terrified Red Shirt had hit the ground before the shell he’d ejected.

Sammy didn’t kill the assailant efficiently. He didn’t slash an artery or snap a vertebra and move on. Sammy could think of nothing but blood, pain, and fire as he ripped at pieces he knew wouldn’t kill the man. Tearing muscle from the arms. Skin from the face. Bearing down with enough weight to crush ribs without destroying organs. He dug out the intestines and snapped the left leg off at the knee. On and on he went, oblivious to the fallen woman’s dying gasps, oblivious to the pop and sting, oblivious to the fact that he was slowing down, that the light of his fire was fading. The rage consumed him as the rest of his body fled, and then, in the absence of his body, the rage burned itself out, a candle without a wick.

“Fuck.” Nina never spoke during a mission, but with the scene before them, it absolutely had to be said.

“How long did it take to drop that thing?”

“Hard to tell with the adrenaline,” Nina said, breaths growing heavy as the weight of the situation caught up with her. “Four? Five seconds, maybe?”

The both stared in silence at the twitching, gurgling pile of dying Ricky. It looked like three quarters of his front had been stripped of flesh. Both arms were hanging from a tendril of skin, the stumps still flopping, each moment more slowly than the last. The creature itself was dead, its once-fiery coat now snow-white.

“Fuck,” Tamara reiterated.

“Is someone there?” came a weak voice from further down the hall.

Nina stepped over the bodies and pried the lantern from the dead woman, slowly proceeding down the hall as her leader took point.

In the light of the lantern, she could see that all the doors on this floor were closed, mostly rotted with neglect, handles caked with dust. With the exception of one, at the end of the hall, right before what looked like an elevator and stairwell.

A head slowly poked out. The face was filthy and unkempt, and Nina could barely make out his bony fingers wrapped around the bars.

“Were you here with the short girl?” he asked.

Tamara nodded slowly.

“They took her to the basement. Same place they took Mindy.” The man started to tear up. “Oh god, my poor little Mindy. Please, I don’t care if I die in here, but help my darling little daughter. She’s only six.”

“Don’t worry,” Tamara whispered as she took the lantern from Nina, who took a set of crude lock picks from her pocket. “We’ll get Mindy back right after we bring you to safety.”

“Thank you,” the man muttered. “Thank you so much.” The man’s face drifted back from the door, allowing Nina space to work.

“Are you sure you’re equipped?” the man asked from the far end of the cage.

“We’ve already taken one of the bastards down,” Tamara said with the most assuring smile she could muster after watching the latest Ricky get killed considerably more horrifically than usual. “As long as they don’t sneak up on us, we’re fine.”

“What about the gas?” the man asked.

Tamara raised a brow. “The woman who was with it was naked. We’ve got as much protection as she did. Besides, the creatures didn’t use chemicals.”

The pwing of metal bouncing along dirty vinyl tile echoed louder than it should have as a lockpick slipped from Nina’s fingers. Both girls lost in a moment of confusion, it took a moment to see the man return to the cell door, one hand pressing a cloth to his mouth, the other unlocking the cell door with a key.

With a shot of panic, Tamara jolted awake. Her arms were splayed out to the side, arms chained to the ground, forcing her to her knees. The panic began to subside, however, as she noticed the familiar pull of her dark blouse against her breasts. She touched her knees together to make sure she could still feel the padding of black denim, and sighed.

“Red? Is that you?” whispered She-Ricky—no, Raina—from the pitch darkness, evidently alerted by the clinking of chains.

“What happened?” asked Tamara in a hiss of a whisper.

“I don’t know,” Raina replied, a little too loudly for the situation. “I saw Steve drag you down here, unconscious.”

“How long were we out?” came Nina’s voice from between the two.

“A few hours,” Raina replied. “Listen, I don’t know how long we have before they come back, but these hounds—they’re not like the others.”

“We know,” Nina said. “We ran into one.”

“No, I mean they’re—they’re human. They talk. Understand. Reason.” Raina hesitated before adding, “Love.”

Tamara opened her mouth to protest, but then realized that the creature didn’t attack until Ricky punched a hole in its girlfriend. Wait—girlfriend?

“They might not be what they seem,” Tamara said, her whisper growing urgent. “I think they might be manipulating women into staying with them.”

Nina added, “The girl who greeted us was a space cadet. She didn’t react to our weapons at all.”

“Do I sound like a space cadet to you?” Raina snapped out in a hiss. “I’m getting through to them. They’re about to let me out of my chains.”

A huff from a few feet ahead of us, and the room came to life, lit to the point of daylight by the shimmering coat of one of the beasts.

The light let off by the coat wasn’t painful or blinding like the one that killed Ricky—in fact, the coat itself was a shade of light that was calming and peaceful to look at—but any sense of peace was undermined by the view it revealed.

Around where the creature arose, four more like it slumbered, their coats the same pure white as the creature they’d slain. The walls were stone—likely a storage or boiler room when the building was in service, but retrofit to resemble some sort of dungeon. To Tamara’s left, there was a cell where nearly a dozen women lay, naked and motionless. To the right, past Nina and Raina, both were strung up just like she, there was another area, this one open and covered in mattresses, where nearly twenty more women lay each, in various stages of pregnancy.

And that’s when she noticed the extent of Raina’s clothing—a pair of thin black gloves meeting the sleeves of her sweatshirt—sleeves that hung from her wrists in tatters, no more than a few inches of fabric being all that remained of her clothes.

“Oh hell no,” Tamara muttered to herself.

“I thought the same thing,” Raina said, “but believe it or not, these girls want to stay. They’re given food and protection from the outside. It’s just like King and the hospital.”

“You’re fucking naked,” Nina snapped.

“They don’t like clothes. I’m just trying to communicate with them.”

The massive creature panned its eyes across the two newcomers, before turning to Raina.

“Good morning, sunshine,” she said with a smile. “Did you think about what I told asked you last night?”

The creature gave a slight nod and padded over to where the short, dark-skinned girl hung, and pawed a catch in the floor that released the chains.

“See?” Raina said, turning to her squad mates with a wink. “All you need to do is show them a little respect.”

Raina then turned to the creature and threw her arms around it, patting it about the neck and shoulders. “Who’s a sentient being?” she asked in a baby-voice, most likely for the benefit of her comrades. “Who’s a big beautiful sentient being? You are! You are!” She continued to pet, scratching along its ribs, and then to its massive hips. “Aren’t you the sweetest puppy,” she continued. “You like that, don’t you? Yeah, you do, ’cause you’re the sweetest puppy.”

Tamara and Nina both turned to each other.

‘Morale break?’ Tamara signed.

‘Victim hostile?’ Nina signed back.

It certainly seemed like Stockholm, but there was no way in hell it would manifest naturally over a few hours.

‘Innocent?’ Nina signed, sporting a look of genuine confusion.

Tamara shrugged and turned her attention back to Raina’s bizarre display of diplomacy.

Raina was now scratching the creature’s stomach, giving it a tummy rub as though it were a common puppy.

“If these things are innocent, does that mean all of these—are Steve?”

“Steve is a stupid man,” Raina said, still speaking in the baby voice, her hand still scratching feverishly. “You don’t need that stupid man, do you baby?” The creature writhed a bit as she continued scratching and repeated, “Do you?”

Raina gave a slight “Oop” of surprise as something slick brushed her hand, and the thick, deep red tip of the creature’s penis poked out of its sheath.

“Oh my,” Raina said, “you really liked that.” She continued scratching in spite of this, moving her hands out of the way of the thing, but her ministrations instead moving all around the sheath, causing its massive length to creep out, inch by inch, like a giant tube of lipstick.

“Ricky!” Nina hissed urgently, trying to snap the recruit out of whatever she was in.

“Don’t worry,” Raina said as she slipped her fingers along the creature’s length, the gentle trails causing the member to twitch and spurt a glob of precum. “I specialize in diplomacy. This is just another way we can communicate.”

Raina rubbed her palms on the tip of the creature’s nearly two-foot member and, once they were sufficiently soaked in lubricant, wrapped both hands around its girth, sliding it slowly and teasingly up and down. She paused to lean forward and take a deep whiff, the smell of the creature’s musk overwhelming. She could feel the dark thatch of hair around her snatch soak through, a thin trickle of nectar rolling down her right leg.

“You smell so delicious,” Raina said, her baby voice giving way mid-sentence to a heaving, lusty one. She leaned forward and ran her tongue over the head of the creature’s dick, eliciting another spurt of pre. “You taste delicious, too.”

“You must be able to smell it from there,” Raina said, continuing to jack the creature off as she turned to Tamara and Nina. “I caught a whiff as soon as I walked in the basement, so strong and manly. And it’s so much better up close. But that ain’t the half of it.” She then turned to the creature and added, “Shall we show them?”

The creature responded by rolling to his feet, careful to keep his dick well within Raina’s little grip, and stood expectantly as the small girl lay on her back and slid herself underneath the creature.

He was careful to adjust himself so that both of the captives could see, with the small brown woman laying beneath him, servicing him as a mechanic would service an automobile. She stroked with an admirable fervor, and kept her mouth locked firmly on the tip, even as it gushed out enough precum to force its way out the sides of her mouth, in spite of her attempts to swallow it.

Raina felt the thick red member swell within her mouth, her hands being interrupted on their journey to the base as the creature’s knot began to inflate. ‘My sweet little puppy,’ Raina attempted to moan, though her words were only coming through as mmm’s and sputters, his steady flow of pre running freely down her cheeks. “You must love me so much to cum so fast.”

While Raina was expecting the creature’s orgasm, her friends most certainly weren’t. In fact, the sudden thrusting and flash of colors from the creature’s luminescent coat sent them into a panic, the memory of He-Ricky upstairs still fresh in their mind. When the flashing subsided, and their eyes readjusted, they saw Raina beneath the creature, one hand desperately kneading her perky breasts each in turn, the other between her wide-open, twitching legs, rubbing herself with urgency as she hummed out a massive orgasm into the creature’s spurting member, her face being coated by strand after thick strand of thick spunk.

As soon as the creature rolled to its back, one of the slightly less-pregnant women from the open area skittered out to lick him clean, moaning and masturbating as she did so, and Raina struggled to her feet, stumbling in a lust-drunken stupor towards her squadmates.

Nina’s breaths grew more and more ragged the closer Raina got, with Tamara’s own lust not far behind. It must be like a hive after all—only instead of the queen controlling the men with her scent, these creatures are controlling the women.

“Wait,” Tamara sputtered, trying to clear her head long enough to buy some time.

Raina stopped mere inches from Nina, the cum dripping from her face landing between Nina’s knees.

“You don’t have to do this. I believe you. We shouldn’t be killing them, we should be learning. Please, tell me more.”

Raina smiled and swallowed hard, gulping down the load that she was about to—well, who fucking knows.

“What do you want to know?” Raina said with a satisfied grin.

“Where’s the nursery? Can we see the babies?”

“Aww, I knew beneath that rough façade you’d have a soft spot for babies. You should see them! They’re so adorable. The nursery’s up-upstairs.”

“Are babies—like them?” Tamara asked, transfixed by the sight of the massive prick still being cleaned—though at this stage, with it still at full-mast and once again spurting pre-cum, they’d probably crossed back into blowjob land. “Are they big mo—wolves? Or are they human?”

Raina shruged. “They prefer the term ‘hounds’, actually, and they haven’t found anyone good enough to make kids like them yet.” Raina scooped a finger full of monster spunk from her face and began idly tracing it along Nina’s cheek, the bound six-foot woman too overwhelmed by the musk to resist. “I think it’s because they’re here, in whitey-land. I think if the right jewel of the Ganges gave it a try, she might have more luck. All they’ve had so far are those stupid half-and-halfs we got all over town.”

“If they’re no good, then why let ’em go?”

Raina sunk back, visibly disappointed in the question. “Good or not, they’re still their babies. If you had kids who wouldn’t behave, would you drown ’em in the river?”

“If my kid didn’t know right from wrong, I wouldn’t give him a chainsaw and let him loose in a flea market,” Tamara replied with all the rancor she could muster.

“You’ll come to understand,” Raina said, her voice backed by a fleck of self-doubt.

Nina, finally reacting to the maze of cum Raina had been idly tracing on her cheek, turned her head—towards the finger, the intricate pattern now smeared with a streak towards her mouth. Raina, however, lifted the finger before it reached Nina’s lips.

“Now, now,” Raina said, dragging her finger along her cheek. “You can’t have your cake and eat it, too. You need to pick a side.”

“What?” Nina managed.

“Big Red over there thinks that these beautiful hounds are bad, and that we should go around and kill all the babies we have in here. I think they’re smart, noble, and loving creatures, who are providing the gift of a comfortable life around people and hounds who love them.”

“I don’t—“ Nina began.

Raina leaned forward, bringing her face right next to Nina’s ear. “Those who vote for the chef get to lick the icing from the bowl.”

Nina swirled her head around, lashing her tongue at Raina’s cheek with such force that, for the briefest moment, it actually left a slight mark. “That’s fucking right, fucking tease. I got it anyways.” With a triumphant smile, Nina took a deep breath, swishing her prize about in her mouth, draining it slowly in several dainty little gulps.

Raina took a half-step back, slashing at her face with the back of her forearm, wiping off (or, rather, displacing to her arm) as much of the remaining excess as she could. “You fucking cheater.”

“You’re right, Ricky. That tastes fucking goooooood.”

“God damnit, you can’t fucking do that.”

Watching the two argue was incredibly surreal to Tamara. Nina’s mind must be completely oblivious to the nature of what she was doing, but her personality was definitely still there—she wasn’t blank, like the woman who greeted us, but she was still far enough out of her mind to think that gulping down what she was now positive was mind-controlling pheromones, was actually a victory.

Not to mention the fact that the pheromones were ejaculated from the giant dick of a goddamn glow-in-the-dark labradoodle.

“Sweetness,” Raina said, “Ninja won’t play fair.”

The wolf once again rolled to his feet, away from the attentions of what could best be described as his concubines, and gave Raina a look.

“But she—“

The creature shook its head.

“So she still—“

The creature nodded.

Raina sighed. “I’ll get her ready.”

Raina grumbled to herself as she took to grabbed the front of Nina’s dark, skin-tight sweater and yanked it apart. Nina still smiled triumphantly as the fabric tore away from her, revealing the slender, compact power of her body. Her contours were everything Tamara wished she had: Just the faintest inkling of a six-pack, without any bulging muscles, slim shoulders, powerful arms. And when Raina ripped the sports bra, Tamara knew for a fact that her own lust wasn’t just the chemicals: Those perfectly perky breasts had haunted her sexiest fantasies since Nina was herself a Ricky.

All at once, Tamara felt a wave of regret. It seemed like her luck had finally run dry, and she was going to have to die staring at the body she never had the nerve to ask for. She even knew the sexy Amazonian acrobat was bisexual; she had just constantly found excuses not to start anything. And now she was going to leave this world, watching that sexy body be fucked by everyone—and every thing—but her.

When Raina struggled to work Nina’s pants over her tight, finely-sculpted ass, the wolf, evidently having lost patience, came over. It placed one massive paw in the square of Nina’s back, pushing her forward, and then, with a single deft motion of its claws, tore her pants down the middle, from belt to inseam, the newly-liberated, clean-shaven pussy mixing the creature’s supernatural musk with a soupcon of her own. With two more swipes splitting them open at the thigh, the pants were finally free to fall before her, leaving her sleek body splayed out, in all its perfection, in front of a giant hell hound sproting a massive erection.

“You want her already?” Raina said, voice thick with disappointement. “You’re not going to sniff around or anything?”

This seemed to inspire Nina even more. Her lips pulled into a wide smile as she stared her new rival straight in the eye and said, “I’m gonna make him forget all about you, you red-shirt traitor.” Then, over her shoulder, “Saddle up, big boy.”

“Wait,” Tamara shouted to her now-naked friend. “They’ve done something to you. Do you remember why she’s a traitor?”

“Of course, she—“ The smile melted from Nina’s face. “She chose to—“ her eyes widened before completing her thought: “Oh fuck.”

The creature thrust forward on that word—apparently a race of beast with a sense of timing—but its giant member, spurting lubricant and slick with its own seed, slipped from Nina’s opening and bounced up along her abdomen, smearing the pre all over her taught body.

Its glorious moment ruined, the creature began to desperately attempt to shove itself in, each attempt more frantic, and less like to work, than the last, until finally Raina took it by the thick, red, meaty shaft, and guided it into her comrade’s hairless pussy.

“See, sweetness?” Raina said as the creature drove its dick into Nina. “I love you no matter who you choose.”

When the creature finally pierced her, Nina’s mouth opened in a scream which quickly shifted into a moan. Her eyes rolled back, and the muscles throughout her body rippled in orgasm. As the creature drove deeper and deeper into Tamara’s crush, she noticed a slight change—not an outline, but a slight bulging—in her stomach.

It should be excruciatingly painful, but Nina simply came through the pain—literally, her body shuddering again and again, each orgasm crashing into the next with very single thrust of the giant inhuman dick.

“I still love you,” Raina muttered to the creature. “I’ll always love you. I came way harder than her. Try to remember, baby. Try to remember how perfect my pussy fit you…

The light in the room became a little brighter as another of the creatures stirred from slumber, sauntering towards the scene.

The hound known as Sweetness shoved Raina away from it, gesturing towards the newly awakend onlooker.

“Of course, Sweetness. Right away.”

“Raina, what the fuck is going on?”

Raina dropped to all fours as she answered. “I told you, Red; these aren’t animals. These are wonderful, civil creatures. They mate for life; so to find out who’s the best suited to be yours, they each need to see how compatible you are.”

As Tamara answered, the freshly-awakened wolf carefully stepped over her, its sheath heading directly in the petite brown girl’s face. “Raina, what the fuck does that mean?”

Raina answered while kneading the sheath, coaxing out the creatures cock much like she’d done with the previous. “It means a society with no regrets, where you know with perfect certainty that you’re with the one, absolute-perfect match.”

“You say one person—there are way more of you than there are of them.”

“I didn’t say one person. I said one perfect match.” Raina paused a moment to give the now-fully-erect cock before her face a gentle suck, then continued. “You’ll see when your turn comes, but they all feel amazing.”

Tamara looked to Nina, who had gained enough of her mind now to start gasping “Fuck me fuck me fuck me”, and she was struggling against her chains to slam back into Sweetness’ giant red cock.

Raina opened her mouth to speak, but was shoved aside with a motion of the freshly awakened creature’s freshly awakened dick as the creature moved towards Nina.

“Oh fuck yes,” she gasped, spying the approaching creature. “Bring that big fucking cum-dispenser over here. I’m gonna make that fucking traitor watch as I take every last drop for myself. Oh Christ don’t stop fucking me.”

“Nina, she isn’t even there anymore.” Tamara’s words fell on lust-deafened ears; Nina continued to struggle against her bonds, now leaning forward and desperately extending her tongue to lick the tip. The new creature seemed to actually be teasing her, giving her a few laps before pulling away, giving her a quick suck on the top before pulling away again.

Between the teasing of the cock in front of her and the constant pounding from the cock behind, Nina found her mind slipping into a state of absolute bliss. The playfulness she loved most, mixed with the serious fucking straight-to-action business—it was making her come. Oh god, was it ever. Again and again. Harder and harder every single time. She understood why the lesser girls might have lost their minds—and she began toying with the thought of letting herself go, getting completely lost in the pure ecstasy…

Down on the floor where the others slept, Raina was hard at work, stroking a pair of sleeping cocks to erection—one in each hand—only a few hours in, and already mastered at pulling them from their sheaths and sucking them to full attention.

One of the hounds, still asleep, whimpered slightly as Raina wrapped her mouth around the head of its cock. Its bulbous base flared out, and her eyes widened with surprise as her mouth was flooded with hound spunk. The initial blast was enough to make her choke, loosing it from her lips to hack the thick load out of her lungs as the remainder of the load splashed against her small, perky chest, coating her dark flesh with pearly, dripping seed.

At once, Sweetness let loose a powerful growl, shifting its weight forward with Nina still impaled on its giant phallus, jaws snapping, claws digging deeply into Nina’s back as it forced the second creature further down her throat. Her arms twisted from the jerking pressure, her joints crackling before the chains gave an extra few inches to compensate, Nina was thankfully too lost in orgasm to realize or care.

Both animals with their dicks in her yelped in surprise, the sudden jerk serving just enough to send them both over the edge. The creature in Nina’s mouth started pounding her more erratically, losing the extra depth given to it by the sudden lunge, but still deep enough to deposit its load right down her throat.

Sweetness, apparently realizing what it had just done, struggled to back out before his knot flared out, but yelping as he realized it far too late. He pumped his hips instinctively a few more times, unloading a few volleys of spunk into Nina before giving one last, powerful jerk, failing to dislodge himself, but pulling the creature at her mouth free to spray the remaining loads on her pert breasts, her tight midriff, and the cold floor below.

The smell sent Tamara into a stupor. Some of the creamy load splashed towards her, landing so close that she could almost bend down and taste it, if only these chains were just a bit longer…

Meanwhile, surrendering to the circumstance of his knot, Sweetness’ fur began to shift color. He started at his property, covered in another hound’s seed, his soul burning with the sense of betrayal.

“I’m sorry, Sweetness,” Raina muttered. “I didn’t mean to. He was—he shot off too quick. He was still asleep.” Raina dropped submissively to her knees as the two wolves, now awake, cautiously backed away from the cum-slathered girl.

The tension drowned out the sound of warm liquid hitting the stone floor, and the distraction of the faux-pas blinded everyone but Tamara from the sight of a fat metal rod poking through the threshold.

“Boot kiss,” Doug shouted.

And hell followed with him.

Belt-fed and held at waist level, the heavy machine gun was a miserably impractical burden that Doug insisted on bringing with him on every field mission. And man, was he ever glad that he did.

The rounds, designed to penetrate bulletproof vehicles, tore through the sleepy canines in the corner. And, turning to see a creature dismounting Nina and lunging towards him, H fed Doug another dozen rounds, the force of the weapon sending the top of its skull flying, showering the caged area with brain matter.

Raina slowly stood, thoroughly soaked from juices both brutal and carnal, and stared in disbelief at the man she’d once considered a friend. “What did you do?” she shouted. “They were peaceful! We were communicating with them! What the fuck did you just go and—“

As Raina was shouting at her former comrade, Sweetness finally wriggled its bloated knot out of Nina. Still blazing with rage, he threw himself atop the naked girl with enough force to shatter her spine. As he raised a paw to rip off the flesh that had been tainted by his now-dead rival, the world as he knew it blinked off.

Raina lay, now slathered in the blood of one more wolf—this one her master—and smiled. She could feel her life slowly draining away, and she was happy to die here, in the embrace of her master, her perfect lover pressed firmly against her. And as the blood stopped pumping through her lover’s body, and her mind slipped further from her own, the whole room went dark.

“The fuck happened to the lights?” Doug asked.

“I guess we killed ’em,” H said.

“Spark some glowies in there.”

H dropped the belt to pull a pair of glow-sticks from his leg pocket, cracking them and tossing them in.

Doug took a half-step back when the sticks entered. Girls. Most of them visibly pregnant. All of them naked, and they were all gathered around the bodies.

“Them,” one shouted, pointing to Doug. “They killed our masters.”

“H?” Dough stammered.

“Rip him limb from fucking limb!” the woman screamed.

“Jesus, feed me feed me feed me”

Doug knelt next to Tamara, glow-stick in hand.

“So that was the fifty?” she managed.

Doug nodded.

Tamara forced a smile. “Metal.”

“Well, be glad you saw it in action; I think we’re out of bullets.”

“Nina—“

“H is already extracting her. Come on, let’s get you down.”

The drive home was understandably silent. Nina was muttering and comatose. Both of the red shirts were dog food. Doug had just cut down an army of pregnant women. H had and Tamara had just set fire to what Tamara had been told, in no uncertain terms, was an orphanage run by creatures completely capable of feeling real emotion, and human beings who, pheromone-induced or not, felt some sort of a love for them.

They came back with all the Red Immortals, as per usual—but, as per usual, each of the Red Immortals came back a little more dead.

“Who would lead the Reds if I left?” Tamara absentmindedly blurted out.

H shrugged. “Sweetheart, you are the Reds.”

Tamara pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’m serious. Would you be fit to lead?”

H shook his head. “Can’t lead from far away. If I were a bettin’ man, I’d say you’ve been groomin’—“ H trailed off as he glanced in the rearview at the tall woman, once thought to be invincible, shivering beneath a blanket, both wrists broken, still in a state of deep shock. “I don’t know. We’ll figure something out.”

The only words that were muttered for the rest of the drive was H, repeating to himself, “We’ll figure something out.”