The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

‘Pea’

(mc, sf, f/f, nc)

DISCLAIMER:

This material is for adults only; it contains explicit sexual imagery and non-consensual relationships. If you are offended by this type of material or you are under legal age in your area, do NOT continue.

SYNOPSIS:

Invasion of the Body Snatchers. Sort of.

INTRO COMMENTS:

Inspired most directly by a theme that William Lee has sometimes focused on in his work. It took certain directions because of Sara H, and certain other directions because of thrall. Voyer had a definite influence. And some places it went because of trilby else, more due to ‘Depth’ than to ‘Fruition’.

* * *

START ‘Pea’

Part One

* * *

It was almost dark, and the mosquitoes were beginning to bother, but Vivian had only one more row of impatiens to plant. She rubbed the sweat from her forehead with a forearm, and began to trowel out the next little hole.

Then, with a puzzled expression, she looked up. She’d been thinking about putting a koi pond in her backyard, and so the strange noise she heard reminded her of the hissing the air pump at the nursery had made that afternoon. Why she should be hearing an air pump now, though... she looked around.

Her backyard looked only slightly different—the freshly weeded fenceline along her little picket fence separating her yard from Carol Thompson’s next door, the new weeping willow planted in the back corner near the creek. Other than that, her rock-lined flowerbeds were their usual lush green early summer selves. She looked at the deck, over at Carol’s dark house, then the other direction at the vacant lot. Nothing seemed to be happening—but the noise was definitely getting louder.

She looked up.

Something flashed in the sky, directly above her, and Vivian threw up an arm and fell over. Whatever it was gave off a short but very loud hiss, followed by a sudden and surprisingly muffled thump.

Vivian, finding herself unharmed, blinked and sat up. She was unhurt. Finding her balance, she clambered to her feet. The yard looked the same. The sky looked the same.

The evening sounds of the frogs and crickets began to tentatively fill the air again.

Whatever it was, it wasn’t in her yard. It must have fallen into Carol’s. Squinting into the gathering darkness, Vivian made her way to the other side of her yard and leaned over the fence.

It would be charitable to say that Carol Thompson didn’t worry much about her yard. The weeds near the house were kept down by the lawn service that mowed them every other week, but the bulk of the backyard was entirely the domain of wild shrubs and trees. Vivian supposed it was one of the prices of Carol’s career; where Vivian’s job as a school teacher gave her ample time to garden—well, enough time, at any rate—Carol’s job as partner in a legal consulting firm had her home late every night and rarely enough on weekends.

Of course, she was nice enough that Vivian could excuse her her backyard.

Vivian snorted. No, she thought as she hoisted herself over the low fence into her neighbor’s yard, that wasn’t completely true, was it? Carol was nice enough, sure, but Vivian would excuse any fault when it was accompanied by those Armani-suited curves and those deep blue eyes behind the Nikon rimless glasses.

Vivian sighed. Here she was in her neighbor’s backyard, in the almost-dark, looking for something that fell out of the sky, and what was she thinking about? Carol’s body. Maybe if she found something, she could bring Carol out to see it, and get a chance to scope her out while she leaned over the meteor’s smoking hole. You’re so bad, Vivian told herself as she pushed around a huge honeysuckle bush, and anyways she never really ‘ogled’. Nothing so obvious. God, if Carol ever thought...

But she wouldn’t, would she? No one knew. It wasn’t the sort of town to deal with that. Vivian would lose her job at the very least. She sighed, pushed a tangle of hair that had fallen in front of her face back over an ear, and craned her neck around an azalea totally buried in some grape-like vine.

It had fallen back here somewhere. Frowning, she looked around. In the darkness of the thicket, you could have hidden a Buick and Vivian would have been hard pressed to find it. It hadn’t gone in the creek that flowed behind their houses—the sound would have been totally different. A splash, not a thump.

Maybe-

“Vivian? Is that you?”

Vivian began backing out of the thicket, shooting a glance back towards the house. Sure enough, Carol was standing on the mown meadow that served as her back lawn.

“Yeah, it’s me.” Even in the dark, Carol’s beauty was unmistakable—coal black hair, a long, graceful nose, and those eyes, like the ocean after a storm behind the thin planes of her glasses. Not to mention those more than distracting curves, professionally accentuated by her suit.

“Something fell into your backyard,” Vivian said.

In the dark, Carol probably couldn’t see how intently Vivian looked at her, but Vivian let the old mask fall back down just in case.

“Fell into my backyard?”

“Yeah, a meteor or something. I was gardening when something shot out of the sky, and into your back, um, yard.”

“Well, good luck to it, if it fell in there. I ain’t going in there. It’s too dark to look for it now, anyways. Why don’t you come inside and have a drink with me?”

“You don’t want to go see it?” Vivian came to a stop in front of Carol, and pushed the hair back out of her face again.

“Not right now, I don’t. I’m beat, still in my nice clothes, and it’s dark. We can go have a look tomorrow. Come on in and I’ll share some of my 30-year old with you.”

Vivian blinked, then realized she was talking about scotch. And she was in her business clothes—Vivian realized how frumpy she must look in her muddy jeans and t-shirt.

“I’d love to, but I really ought to put away my gardening tools, and cook dinner, and take a shower...”

Carol laughed. “We’re the only two people for half a mile, Vivian, and I’m not expecting any callers tonight. No one will see you in your dirty jeans.”

Vivian relented. It wasn’t hard. “Why not. Hey, why are you home, anyways? You usually work later than this.”

Carol mounted the steps and held open the back door. “Oh, I was just feeling burned out, and decided to take a day or two off. If I don’t take some time off, I’ll lose it, because I am up against my maximum vacation allowance anyways. And...” she trailed off.

“And?” Vivian asked, entering the kitchen. The two houses, models for a subdivision that never was, had identical floor plans, but Carol’s was both cleaner and much less lived in. Vivian’s kitchen had more scuff marks, but on the whole she preferred it to Carol’s stylish kitchen that rarely saw use.

Carol walked into the pantry and emerged with a bottle, then opened the cupboard with the glasses. “Well, I went on a date last night, and it made me realize just how thin on the ground good men are.” She opened the freezer and took out an ice cube tray, cracking the ice with an efficient twist. “Maybe it’s just here, but...” Carol sighed, poured out some scotch, and handed Vivian a tumbler. “I guess I’m just feeling old.”

Oh no, thought Vivian, you aren’t old, you’re a knockout. I would... no. Don’t go there. She looked into her wineglass. “That’s malarkey. You’re gorgeous, and smart, and there’s someone out there that can make you happy.”

“Yeah, I guess. Anyways, I figured I’d just stay home tomorrow, watch some teevee, do some shopping. You’ll be at work?”

“Yeah. Finals week—I have all mine prepared, which was why I could work in the garden tonight. I’ll give the tests tomorrow, and be grading the following couple of days.”

Carol nodded. “Well, maybe I’ll come over and bother you. If you want, we can check on that meteor of yours when you get back tomorrow afternoon.”

“Yeah,” Vivian said. “That would be interesting. I swear that something fell back there. Maybe it was just part of an airplane.”

“Probably blue ice,” Carol said, and they both laughed. Vivian felt some weight shift off her shoulders. It was so nice just to be around Carol. “We’ll find out tomorrow, when it’s light. Anyways, I—”

The phone rang, and Carol froze, glass halfway from her lips.

It rang again.

Carol opened her mouth, hesitated, then said “I have to take this, Viv.”

Vivian waved her free hand. “No problem—I should get my tools in.” She put her glass on the counter.

Carol smiled at her as she reached for the wall phone. “We’ll check out the meteor when you get home tomorrow. I’ll wait.”

Vivian smiled back, and walked to the back door. Behind her, Carol picked up the phone.

“Carol Thompson here. Yes, go ahead. No, I wanted that delivered on Monday...”

Vivian slipped out into the dark.

* * *

It was dark again by the time Vivian turned down her street the next day. Both houses on the corner were brightly lit, and Vivian spitefully frowned at them. They got to get home in time for dinner. They didn’t have an emergency administration meeting that took the whole afternoon. They weren’t working for a principal with a doctorate in education who had missed the whole idea that education revolved around teaching children, not around complex little socio-political models that His Excellency had written a dissertation on and that the lowly teachers’ final exams didn’t fit neatly into.

Prick. God, how she wished she could quit...

She saw their two houses, hers and Carol’s, alone at the end of the street, and winced. Shit. Carol takes her first day off in two years, and I miss it entirely. We were going to have a look in her backyard. I was going to get to hang out with Carol. That fucking Dr. Halsey! Vivian clenched the steering wheel, and let out a long breath. Relax. I suppose it’s as well, she thought. It had rained off and on all afternoon. We would have just gotten all muddy.

It would have been together, though.

The Volvo grumbled to a halt in the garage. At least she had gotten her tools in last night, she reflected as she got out. There they were, in orderly arrangement on the garage wall.

She opened the side door to look over at Carol’s house. The lights weren’t on. Huh. Putting her bag down by the back door, she picked up the flashlight that she kept there, and stepped outside.

A low grumble of thunder made her look up at the sky, but although the grass was still wet from half an hour ago, it looked clear enough at the moment. She hoisted herself over the fence, and walked to Carol’s back door.

Looking in, Vivian didn’t see anything. She probably just isn’t back from shopping, Vivian thought. She was going to shopping today, right?

Something large stirred in the yard behind her.

Vivian froze, then slowly turned her head. The thicket was pitch black. Had she really heard something? She was about to try a timorous “hello” when whatever it was moved again. The underbrush rustled and leaves crushed, but it didn’t sound like it was something approaching, and Vivian relaxed a bit. It was just an animal, or something.

She should not go in there. She should get help. She should wait for Carol.

Oh, Shit! What if that was Carol back there? She could have fallen, a limb could have dropped on her, and that’s why the lights weren’t on! Vivian flipped on the flashlight—a MagLite, its weight reassuring in her hand—and crossed the back fringe to the edge of the woods.

It rustled again, and moaned.

It was Carol! Vivian pushed her way into the thicket, squeezing past the honeysuckle and the drowning azalea, into the thick darkness under the trees. She was glad she hadn’t taken off her jacket, as the water droplets clinging to every leaf quickly soaked her jeans.

Where was she? Vivian slowly played the light around, but could see nothing besides damp greenery. Then another rustle, down by the creek, and Vivian pushed her way forward through the weeds.

Vivian had terraced her yard where it met the creek; that was where the weeping willow had just been planted. But in Carol’s yard, the land simply crumbled off abruptly as it neared the water, dropping some ten feet vertically in as many feet horizontally. The thick trees and undergrowth kept the yard from washing away on those rare occasions the creek did flood.

Right where the yard began its drop, there was an opening in the trees, filled by waist-high weeds. Vivian pushed the weeds to either side as she walked out into it.

“Carol?” she said. The yard was still, except for the drip of water and the noise of animals.

Then there was a long, low groan, and the weeds down towards the water shivered as though something was rolling around in them.

Nervous again, Vivian walked that way, shining the light in front of her.

Abruptly, the weeds ended, and lying on the ground between the open patch and a large bush, her clothes smeared with dirt, was Carol. Vivian shone the light on her.

Carol was a mess. She had been wearing a white shirt, which was now totally soaked and covered in mud. Her black hair was a matted mess, and her pants...

Her pants were off, leaving her lower body clad in long streaks of mud and a pair of muddy black lace panties. And...

And vines of some sort. In face, Carol seemed to be snared in them—her arms and upper body were also loosely entangled in thick, rope-like vines.

The mud was strange, too—this area should have been all covered in weeds.

Then Carol moaned, and slowly writhed, arching her back and pushing her crotch forward and down in a slow arc. And Vivian, whose treacherous eyes had drifted back to that panty-clad crotch, shrieked.

Because something moved underneath the black fabric. Something slid, slowly, along (or into!) Carol’s pussy, under the muddy black panties.

The light shook as Vivian’s hand trembled. What the hell had Carol?

She badly wanted to run. Very badly. But she couldn’t just leave Carol like this.

God, what if it grabbed her?

Carol moaned again, and Vivian’s eyes flew to her crotch, where what must have been another one of those vines slithered another few inches beneath the wet fabric.

It was not a moan of pain.

Ignoring that thought, Vivian swallowed hard and stepped closer. Carol was lying on a slope, and if the vines—which didn’t look very tight—weren’t too much trouble, she should be able to at least lean Carol forward and try and drag her away, down towards the water. Gingerly, Vivian stepped over one of the vines, expecting it to lash out and grab her ankle.

It didn’t.

She stepped in closer, dreading a sudden touch, but nothing happened.

Up close, Carol was definitely a mess. Her shirt was not only saturated with mud, it was torn in several places. Her bra was visible under it, as were her... very erect nipples.

Carol moaned again, and this time Vivian looked at her face.

Her eyes, which had been closed, fluttered as she gave voice to what was definitely pleasure. Vivian saw only white—Carol’s eyes were rolled far up into her head. She had no idea Vivian was here, probably no idea where she was at all. Certainly no idea she was being... manipulated... by some sort of plant in the mud in the back of her yard.

Vivian swallowed again, grabbed Carol’s shoulders, and pulled.

The vines didn’t resist, and Carol’s torso pulled forward, but Carol’s head barely moved. Groaning, Vivian let her neighbor’s weight back down. There had to be a vine around her head, somewhere that Vivian hadn’t seen. Carefully, she bent over to find it.

There was nothing around her neck or forehead... where was it? Then Vivian’s eyes widened, as her seeking fingers reached the back of Carol’s head.

There was a vine grown into her head.

Vivian realized she was panting in fear. Of its own volition, Vivian’s right hand felt around the back of Carol’s head, under her mud-caked hair. There was unquestionably a thin vine plugged right into her skull. What was probably blood was caked around where it entered the back of her head at almost a right angle. Looking over Carol’s shoulder, Vivian saw that the vine led back to a hole in the muddy ground, directly under Carol’s head. The rest of the vines seemed to emanate from that hole as well.

Vivian thought of the meteor.

Carol moaned again, and Vivian gave a small shriek. Carol’s eyelids fluttered up to show white, then fluttered back down again; her moan of enjoyment tapered off, and she was still once more.

Oh God, Oh God. What should she do?

Call the police.

That was all she could do. Call the police. Standing up, half expecting the vines to sense her intention, Vivian stepped away from Carol’s dirty body. She took another step, then another.

When she was in the middle of the weedy patch, Carol moaned again, and Vivian broke into a run.

* * *

“She’s back here, officer,” Vivian said, leading the patrolman along the side of Carol’s house. “In the little woodsy bit in back.”

“You said she’d fallen, and gotten tangled up?”

“Yes,” Vivian replied. What could she say? An alien vine was raping her friend? Eating her mind? The policeman could make his own judgment.

“I heard her back there,” she said, “but when I saw what a mess she had gotten into, I didn’t want to try to get her out of it myself.”

“That’s probably a good idea, ma’am,” he replied, as they stopped at the edge of the woods. “If it is bad, we’ll leave her there and I’ll call the paramedics.”

“That will not be necessary,” Carol said behind them.

Eyes wide, Vivian turned.

Carol was standing in her open back door, in a silk robe.

“I am quite alright.”

Vivian stared at her, mouth open. She heard the policeman stop beside her.

“Is this her, ma’am?” the policeman asked.

“I, I, yes,” Vivian stammered.

“Thank you for coming,” Carol said in a flat voice. “I had fallen down and hit my head, but I am fine now.” She turned her face to look at Vivian. “Thank you, Vivian, for getting help.” Coolly, she looked back at the policeman. “I am quite alright now, however.”

“You, ah, want me to have a look at your head, ma’am? I am certi—”

“No, thank you, officer. I am fine. I will visit a doctor in the morning. Thank you for coming.” Carol looked at him impassively.

“Well, okay,” he replied. He looked at Vivian, who shrugged.

Shit. Shit. What could she say? There was Carol, apparently fine.

“You girls have a nice night, then,” the patrolman said. He raised a finger at Vivian. “Next time...” Then he frowned. “No, no, you did the right thing. Good night.”

He walked down the side yard, speaking softly into his radio that everything was all right. Vivian watched him leave, her breath shallow.

“Vivian,” Carol said.

Mouth dry, Vivian turned to look at Carol, gazing unemotionally at her from the open back door.

“I, it... Carol?” Vivian stammered.

“What did you see, Vivian?” Carol asked.

“I... what?”

“What did you see, Vivian? Why did you call the police?”

Vivian swallowed. “You were, you were... in the back yard. Back there. And you were lying on the ground. I thought you might need help, so I called the police.”

Carol slowly closed her eyes, opened them. It was a blink, Vivian realized. A blink, in slow motion.

Carol stared at her.

“I’m, I’m going to go home now—I have something on the stove,” Vivian lied. Carol didn’t reply, just stared at her. Vivian opened her mouth to add something, closed it, and started walking towards the front yard. Normally she would have just hopped over the fence, but somehow such an informality seemed unthinkable.

Carol didn’t follow her.

As she closed her own garage door, it began to rain.

* * *

END Part One