The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

This one is pretty weird, even for me; if you are squicked by extreme scatology then you should probably just move along to another story. It’s the result of one of those sleep-deprivation-induced writing sessions, done mostly in one shot and then edited for modest coherence. Now that this is out of my system, I think I can return to “Instant-On” in a “softer” frame of mind.

I dedicate this to AgainstMyWill, whose stories would be perfect if only they had more women in them. :-)

Pooh

The Third Day

“I think we’re going to run out of Bisquick,” Lisa Barnes told her boss.

“How is that even possible?” the director of Camp Pocahontas wanted to know.

The young woman absently twirled a finger in a lock of her raven hair. “Well, we thought we could stretch it until the next session, but apparently a bunch of the girls have started eating pancakes like they’re going out of style.”

“They aren’t binge eating or anything like that?”

Lisa sighed. “Not that we can tell, no. I’d be puking if I ate that way, but I don’t have a teenage metabolism anymore, either.”

“Well, go across the ridge and see if you can borrow a few bags from your father, okay? Take some of the dykes with you to carry them.”

“Dykes?” Lisa struggled to control her expression. “Not exactly politically correct, is it?”

“Sisterhood of Pocahontas,” the director clarified, forming air quotes with her fingers. “Whatever. They’re less likely to get into trouble with the boys.”

The silence unnerved Lisa. Normally, if you put a group of high school seniors together, they’d be chattering like magpies. She didn’t think she’d heard two words total out of Sierra, Bailey, Faith or Carly the entire hike.

They were at the fence line when Lisa realized she hadn’t heard anything from Camp John Smith, either. The majority of the boys might be off on a hike or other activity, but there was always something going on. She held up a hand, gesturing for the girls to stop, and listened carefully.

Lisa thought she heard a low murmuring, but there was nothing recognizable. One of the blondes, she thought Carly, was scenting the air like a skittish deer. “I think something’s wrong,” Lisa told the girls, unconsciously whispering.

The teens took the warning seriously. They just didn’t react the way Lisa expected. Instead of being scared or disbelieving, they looked excited. “This is not some TV movie,” Lisa reproved.

They advanced cautiously into the deserted camp. The cafeteria reeked in the worst way. Lisa looked cautiously in the open doors, but whirled back at the sound of a noise behind her; surely Faith hadn’t had her hand up her skirt?

“No flies,” observed Sierra, distracting Lisa.

Lisa listened carefully for buzzing, but heard none. She did hear the murmuring again, more clearly now. It sounded like it came from the athletic field.

A flicker of movement drew Lisa’s eyes back to the cafeteria, but she couldn’t spot anything when she stared through the doors. Damnit, now she was spooking herself! “C’mon, girls, let’s look at the field. Stick together now, okay?”

They reached the corner of the administration building and cautiously peered past the split log siding at the field beyond it. One of the girls uttered a breathless sigh; Lisa was shocked into immobility.

It looked like every inhabitant of the camp was there on the field, standing close together in a large circle, apparently naked. Their bodies moved slightly, not quite randomly, in a sort of constrained Brownian motion. A chorus of low grunts and moans commingled to produce the sound they’d heard earlier.

“I think you girls should go back to the camp,” Lisa said, trying to project confidence and steady herself. When she looked around to make sure they’d heard her, Lisa found the girls were already walking onto the field! Knowing in her gut it was a bad, bad idea, she hurried after her wayward charges.

Close up, it became apparent the men weren’t standing side by side, but rather in a long line that circled back on itself. Like participants in an obscene conga line, each gripped the one ahead of him, shuffling slightly from time to time. The matted grass beneath their feet suggested they’d been at it for hours. A few of the lighter-skinned boys glowed red with sunburn.

Not one of them took any notice of the gaping women. A momentary sway by a boy, quickly righted by the teen behind him, revealed all of them were joined like beads on a string, impaled on a hard cock from behind while doing the same thing to the neighbor in front. The gentle movement of the gathering served only to piston cocks in and out of asses. Lisa abruptly lost her breakfast on the lawn.

Carly cried out, “Alec!”—like she was greeting a close friend after an absence—and darted up the line. The other girls followed more slowly behind, whispering.

“Come back, Carly!” Lisa called, wiping her mouth on an arm. She thought seriously about abandoning them, balancing her responsibilities to the girls against an inner voice screaming for self-preservation. The argument ended abruptly when Lisa recognized the back of her father’s head near where the girls now stood. She raced to join them.

Carly was tugging earnestly on the arm of the boy being sodomized by Ken Barnes. “Alec! It’s me! I have so much to tell you!” The boy turned his head and smiled fuzzily at the blonde, but showed no inclination to disengage himself.

“A little help here?” Lisa pleaded, trying to interpose her body between the boy and her father. “Dad! Dad! Stop it! It’s Lisa—let me help you!”

Other hands joined hers, pulling her father backwards away from the boy while a thinly-clad breast brushed Lisa as somebody started pushing Alec forward. Finally they succeeded in disengaging the two from each other.

The sight and smell of her father’s erection left Lisa gagging again. It was dripping a stroganoff-colored cream, a well-churned combination of spunk and shit. Even more of it gushed from the boy’s ass.

Carly screamed and Lisa jumped, fearing the attack she’d dreaded had come. She whirled around, but nothing else was in sight. “Carly?”

The blonde was masturbating furiously, revealing she wore nothing beneath her skirt. Trembling violently, she screamed again as she released a turd that shouldn’t have been possible for a human to generate. Nearly as thick as her wrist, the bottom of the gigantic brown snake reached the ground before the end cleared her distended orifice. Around them, the other girls also gasped and moaned in ecstasy as they voided their bowels.

Something sprayed against Lisa’s back, and a hand fell on her shoulder like lead weight, driving Lisa to her knees in the slimy mud. “Taste him, Baby,” her father’s voice rasped, and he pushed her towards Alec’s dripping rosebud.

“Yes! The kiss!” Bailey shouted, caressing the log she’d ejected like a lover. All of the girls wore feral expressions, and there was something in Faith’s eyes that struck terror in Lisa’s heart.

Seeing no escape in that direction, Lisa threw herself sideways, rolling into the center of the circle. Her father looked towards her, but Alec stepped backwards and wriggled onto him, distracting Ken and sealing the circle behind her.

Lisa loped across the empty space, angling away from the direct line back to Camp Pocahontas, and towards a spot where several of the shorter boys were grouped together. Increasing her speed, she jumped as high as she could, aiming for the slight gap between two of them. Lisa didn’t clear them, not by a long shot, but her momentum carried her outward. When the line stopped swaying, she’d tumbled to the ground on the outside.

Lisa struck out for the administration building; her father’s office contained the only phone in the camp, and the nearest cellular tower was many miles away. The sight of Sierra loping up the stairs ahead of her forced a change of plan. The path up the ridge was inviting, but the girls had to know that as well as she did.

The counselor darted in the side door of the cafeteria. It didn’t seem likely they’d look for her there, and Lisa had the nagging thought that if there was a clue to what had happened, it would be there. The smell hit her like a wave, but she didn’t flinch; she’d already tuned out the filth covering her legs and hands.

Something moved along the base of the wall, behind the head table. It could have been a mouse, but... Lisa hadn’t seen a single animal all day. She backed slowly away, retreating to the kitchen and raiding the cabinets until she found a Tupperware container and lid.

Thus equipped, Lisa returned to the hunt. She moved silently along the wall behind the table, looking carefully but seeing nothing. The scuff of a flip-flop on the porch warned her just in time, and she dropped quickly the floor as two silhouettes appeared in the doorway.

The girls walked slowly down the center of the room, but something ahead of her drew Lisa’s attention. It was about the size of a small mouse, dark in color, and its movement was—not quite right. It crept very slowly towards her, staying close against the wall.

Lisa twitched, and the thing froze, at Sierra’s passionate wail from the kitchen. “Oh God, it does feel good!” the teen moaned.

“Aren’t we supposed to be looking for Lisa?” Bailey’s doubtful voice echoed.

“Fuh-huck her,” Sierra panted. She grunted, accompanied by a little sigh from the younger girl. “What’s she going to do? Send smoke signals? We trashed the phone and hid the keys to the truck. If she tries to go back to Camp Pocahontas, Faith will intercept her. She doesn’t have any water. If we find her, we find her.”

Lisa slowly lifted the upside-down container and waited.

“Did you see that?!” Bailey exclaimed. “In the dining room!”

Lisa’s heart stopped, but then she realized the girls couldn’t have seen her from the kitchen. Were there more of these things? Something brushed against her ankle and she barely choked back a scream. The girls had re-entered the room, so she couldn’t even move to see what was touching her.

“Where?” Sierra asked.

The thing in front of Lisa resumed its careful movement. Its companion pressed wetly against the inside of Lisa’s ankle, and began moving up her leg.

“There!” the girls chorused, pointing in different directions.

Lisa chewed on her lip. Her prey was barely out of reach, but the trail of moisture on her leg had already passed her knee. A new touch anointed her other calf.

The thing in front of her had six legs, but it didn’t look or move like a bug. Its appearance suggested very fine fur, slicked or matted with something. Two beady eyes stared at her; an opening below them irised open and an object she hoped was a tongue extended lazily towards her. The appendage disappeared and the critter took another step.

“There’s shitloads of them!” cried a shaky Bailey.

Lisa shared her lack of enthusiasm; she trembled uncontrollably as she felt the leg of her shorts shift to admit the intruder. Every nerve screamed for her to jump and run, but both girls were standing in the center of the room, scanning it.

Holding her breath and praying, Lisa dropped the container over the creature in front of her, neatly trapping it in place. Sierra whirled at the faint sound, even as something pushed tentatively at her panties. The legband started to shift. Crying silently in abject despair, Lisa lost control of her bladder and flooded herself with acrid urine.

“Okay, Bailey, now you’re creeping me out,” complained Sierra. “Let’s get back to the fun!” With several large bags of finger food in hand, the two girls finally departed.

Lisa sprang to her feet, jumping up and down and shaking her shorts. There was nothing to be seen beyond the puddle on the floor. The critter huddled beneath the container, as far from her as it could get. She grabbed a paper placemat from the table, slid it under the container and the creature, and then lifted it enough to get the lid beneath. A moment later, her captive secured, she was racing to the kitchen.

She was unwilling to leave a building full of whatever they were to do who knew what. The layout of the kitchen wasn’t much different than that of Camp Pocahontas. It took Lisa only a few minutes to splash several large jugs of cooking oil across several of the tables and much of the floor of the dining room, and hole all of the others that remained in the pantry.

The appliances were too old to have automatic ignition, so it was child’s play to blow out all the pilots and then turn the gas on full. She walked down the hall to the back door, spraying charcoal lighter behind her as she went. Nobody was in sight, so Lisa sprayed the threshold with lighter fluid, lit it, and then ran like hell. She’d reached the tree line before the building went up in a huge fireball behind her.

Lisa worked her way cross-country, avoiding the trail. She saw Faith on the trail near the top of the ridgeline, staring back at the billowing smoke rising from the burning building. Lisa was confident she hadn’t been seen; it took a lot longer than a few weeks for a city girl to master the outdoors.

A blind woman could see something big was burning on the other side of the ridge, but only if that woman was outside to see it. Right now, everybody would be in eating lunch. Even if Faith ran the rest of the way, Lisa had perhaps 5 or 10 minutes of cushion.

She slipped into her cabin and changed hurriedly. Lisa badly wanted a shower, but there wasn’t that much time, and at least her clothes were clean and dry now. She pulled on a light windbreaker; it might raise a few eyebrows, but it let her conceal what she was carrying.

Lisa knocked perfunctorily on the open door and slid into the office, closing it behind her.

“That took longer than I expected,” Donna Barnes told her daughter. She capped and set down the tube of lip balm she’d been applying.

“The problem was worse than I expected,” Lisa retorted, nearly collapsing into a chair. She couldn’t bear to think about her father, so she pushed those images aside and concentrated on less hurtful subjects. “I’m pretty sure they’ve got an outbreak of something infectious over at Camp John Smith. I’m worried some of the girls might have caught it.” Lisa had spent the hike back coming up with a story that wasn’t completely unbelievable.

“Did you speak with your father about it?” Donna asked with concern. “Is there anything we can do to help?”

“I’d like to quarantine some of the girls, the ones that might have been exposed,” Lisa answered promptly. More reluctantly, she added, “We might need to send them some food.” She didn’t want to go anywhere near the place, but she couldn’t just let them starve.

“That’s no problem,” Donna replied with a cheerful smile. “I already called and put in an extra delivery for us; we should have plenty to share.”

“That’s... great,” Lisa prevaricated. She stared at the dark fleck between two of her mother’s teeth.

“You’re such a dutiful daughter, Lisa; have I ever told you that? Come and give your mother a kiss.” Donna stood up, revealing a bushy pubic patch, and turned around. Her ass was sagging and showed a bit of cellulite, but it was the shit caked in her crack that snared Lisa’s attention.

A lanky girl Lisa recognized as one of Sierra’s close friends emerged from beneath the desk. She was completely naked, and smeared from head to toe with human waste.

Lisa cursed herself for losing sight of the fact that more than just the girls she’d taken with her had been scarfing down pancakes at breakfast. It was likely all of the “Sisters” were infected!

“The kiiiiissssssss,” the girl sighed, running a hand up Donna’s crack and then smearing it on herself. She started around the desk towards Lisa. The counselor came to her feet, but found the exit blocked by another teen, less filthy but equally intent.

“I’m sorry,” Lisa apologized sincerely, and brought up the .45 ACP she’d been holding under the windbreaker. She placed two rounds into the center of the girl’s chest at point-blank range, and whirled to face the other, who continued to advance. Another double-tap midway between the pierced nipples put her on the floor, too, permanently.

She couldn’t bring herself to point the gun at her mother, but Lisa didn’t put it away, either. “Where are the others?” she shouted over the ringing in her ears. “Where?!”

The answer sounded like “with Faith,” which made no sense.

“Faith is up on the ridge!” Lisa shouted. “I saw her myself!”

“She came back an hour ago! She’s helping fix lunch!” Her mother took a step forward, and then stopped when the gun came down. “Sweetie, I can see you’re confused; let me help you!”

Lisa didn’t hear the entreaty. An hour? It must have been Carly she’d seen on the way back. She might already be too late! The gun wavered, and then Lisa turned and fled.

Outside, the scent of smoke was heavy in the air. Lisa gauged the breeze, and realized they might be in danger. Well, more danger. Stifling a sob, she grabbed the phone wire stapled to the side of the building and yanked with all her might; it tore loose. Lisa ran for the dining hall.

A glance through a window told Lisa she was too late. A pair of girls carried the camp’s largest roasting pan. As they paused, a third teen reached into the pan and withdrew a filthy hand. She faced the redhead who sat in front of her, aroused anticipation visible in every line of her body. A few brief strokes painted dark smears on the redhead’s brow, cheeks, and lips.

The redhead scrambled to strip off her clothes, and then gathered the load she’d dumped in her powder-blue panties so she could smear it all over the rest of her body. Smiling eagerly, she turned to watch her neighbor submit to the same process.

Lisa turned away, sickened. Faith was watching her from the base of the flagpole.

“Looking for me?” asked the blonde, wearing a twisted smile that made Lisa nervous. “I’ve been looking for you.”

Lisa lined up the gun without thinking.

“Don’t be too hasty!” Faith warned her. “I think it’s going to get pretty warm here soon. I’m your ticket it out of here.”

The counselor looked up; she couldn’t see flames—yet—but the extent of the smoke made it clear the fire had jumped to the tree line on the other side of the ridge. She’d been more thorough than she’d planned. “The pickup?”

Faith nodded. “Take me with you, and I’ll give you the key.”

“You’d just sell out your friends like that? What about Carly?” Lisa felt a profound revulsion filling her.

“That churchmouse?” Faith laughed derisively. “She’s probably crispy critters by now. You know what feels better than dropping a bomb from the Hershey highway?” asked the blonde, unexpectedly. “Making other people do it.”

The teen casually plucked an erect nipple. “You know what it feels like to see the oh-so-mighty-and-proper camp director dump a load in her undies like a two-year-old before she sticks her tongue up my ass? Fucking great!

Lisa felt hatred roiling inside her. “Fuck you, bitch!” she screamed, just before she was tackled from behind by a mob of girls.

They stripped Lisa right there in the yard. “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” chanted over a hundred young women. If any of them understood the significance of the flames leaping into the sky just beyond the ridge, they were too enraptured with the drama before them to care.

The crowd parted and Faith strode among them. She, too, was naked, but alone of all of the women there, was pristinely clean. “Wouldn’t want you to get any of the wrong batch,” the blonde smirked as she looked down at Lisa. She looked at the skyline. “I guess we shouldn’t prolong this, should we?”

Lisa writhed uselessly as the blonde stepped over her and squatted, but filthy hands on each limb restrained her. Faith’s leaking gash smeared moisture across the brunette’s face, and she found it impossible to avoid.

Faith shifted slightly forward, and the clean smell of soap was eclipsed by a heavy musk. “Kiss me! I want to feel your lips on my ass!” The tip of a turd peeked from the circle of her anus, and the trickle of her excitement dripped down Lisa’s chin.

The captive woman tried to turn her head aside, but strong hands grasped her temples, pinning her in place. Lisa pressed her lips together and held her breath as something soft and warm began pressing against her face. The repeated chants of “Kiss!” began fading from her ears.

An unexpected fist in her sternum made Lisa gasp, and instantly her mouth was filled. She heaved, trying to push out the intruder with her tongue, but that just filled her mouth with the earthy taste that wasn’t as bad as she’d expected.

“Nooooo!” echoed weirdly in her ears, and Faith began shaking spastically before falling forward on top of Lisa’s body. Her ass stretched and ejected the remainder of her short log onto the brunette’s chest. A moment later, the hands gripping Lisa loosened and fell away.

Lisa turned her head and spat until her mouth was clear, mostly. She peered over the curve of Faith’s buns, trying to understand what had happened.

“Faith, what are you doing?” gasped a bedraggled and smoke-blackened Carly. She was cradling an improbably large mound of shit in her arms as if it were a baby, and staring at her friend in bewilderment.

“You idiot!” Faith screamed. “You ruined everything!“ Her empty ass gaped in Lisa’s face.

Everywhere around them, women were moaning, groping themselves and straining to expel small bits of poop from already-empty bowels. Nobody seemed to be paying attention to the trio at the center of the tableau— or the glowing embers drifting from the flaming trees just outside the camp.

Lisa heaved, sending Faith tumbling to one side. The brunette rolled to her feet, momentarily torn between the instinct to flee and the desire to make sure the blonde didn’t cause any more trouble.

Faith glared at her, but then turned almost unwillingly to gaze at Carly. Carly just stood there, tenderly stroking the poo in her arms, and farted a small piece onto the ground. That was enough to get Faith grunting and frigging herself.

A pine fifty yards outside the camp suddenly exploded like a bomb, scattering flaming debris. All of the girls jumped, but only Lisa seemed to understand the imminent danger. Hesitation forgotten, she turned and sprinted for safety. There were no sounds of pursuit.

Her duffle was still where she’d stashed it; she unzipped it, grabbed keys, and checked the plastic container was still there. Without wasting the time to grab clothing or rezip it, Lisa grabbed the duffle and ran for the camp’s sole vehicle, a battered pickup truck. She tossed the bag onto the seat and jammed the key in the ignition.

Lisa drove out of camp as fast as the rutted dirt road would allow. She was selfishly thankful to see nobody; at this point, she couldn’t have saved more than a few, but the thought of her parents and helpless girls tore at her heart. Even without further delays, it was touch and go until the access road angled far enough from the ridge that Lisa began to feel safe.

The first twinge in her belly caught Lisa by surprise. “Shit!” she yelped, and tried to keep her body under control while navigating the hairpin turn in front of her. It was hard—after a few false starts, the pressure inside her started building inexorably, demanding release. The truck rumbled over a particularly bad section of washboarded roadway, jouncing Lisa up and down on the seat. She found herself panting with every bounce, and realized the vinyl seat beneath her was slick with her moisture.

“Oh, damnit, Lisa!” the brunette cursed to herself, “Don’t do this!” Against her will, her sphincter was forced slowly open, spread by the shit packed inside her. It felt indescribably, oh so perversely, wonderful, and Lisa’s eyelids fluttered involuntarily as she fought against the needs of her body. With a gasp, she tightened her rosebud, squeezing off the end of the poop. It nestled for a moment between her cheeks, and then the truck was navigating another washboarded S-turn.

Lisa slowed down a bit, but a sudden bump heaved her off the seat for a fraction of a second. When she landed, she could feel the shit smearing between her skin and the wet seat. Its heavy scent filled the cab; it was exciting, compelling, calling her to reinforce it. Lisa rolled down the window, but it didn’t help much.

Her sphincter slowly, teasingly, gave ground. It felt like she was cornholed by a secret lover who was forcing her to spread herself in sensuous defilement. The truck had slowed significantly while Lisa tried to use the seat and her weight to block the egress of the log inside her. She blinked away tears, uncertain if they were due to shame, excitement, or both.

It was too much to resist. Lisa realized she was bobbing on the seat, letting a little more slide out of her and then forcing it back against her body, some of it sliding backwards up her channel, and some not. She couldn’t remember ever being so wet, and her clit was as engorged as her nipples. The young woman bit her lip, and suddenly the taste of Faith was on her tongue again.

The brunette gasped as an inch of shit forced its way out of her. The effect was the same as if somebody had applied a vibrator to both her clit and G-spot at the same time; she screamed in ecstasy and control was a thing of the past. Lisa convulsed as her bowel movement extruded along the seat behind her. Her vision greyed out as her body was wracked by the best and most violent orgasm of her life.

Lisa and everything else went flying when the truck rammed a tree. The naked coed sat quietly for a minute, struggling to regain control of herself and tasting blood on her lip.

When she decided to try restarting the engine, she discovered her bowel movement was lying on the floor against the accelerator. Reluctantly, she opened the door and climbed out on shaky legs. The bench where she’d been sitting was smeared with brown and gleamed with moisture.

The brunette walked around the truck, noting the damage looked largely cosmetic, and opened the passenger door. Lisa tugged the duffle upright, and froze as plastic container and lid slid to the floor separately. Suddenly fearful, she backed quickly away before stopping to study carefully the ground around her and the visible areas of the truck cab. Lisa darted forward, grabbed the bag, and dropped it on the ground before retreating again. A watchful pause revealed nothing.

Gingerly, Lisa poked carefully through her bag, withdrawing clothing and double-checking to be sure no uninvited guests were hiding in it. An experienced camper, she also had a roll of toilet paper. With occasional pauses to check the truck and ground for the critter, Lisa gratefully cleaned herself, stopping abruptly when she realized she was fingering her anus instead of wiping it.

She quickly donned a bikini top and a miniskirt, chosen because they were near the top and offered no hiding places. Lisa zipped the duffle closed and tossed it into the bed of the truck. She picked up the empty container and circled carefully back to the other side of the vehicle.

Lisa quietly released her breath when she looked in the open door. The critter was perched on the side of the transmission hump and had its nose buried in the end of her shit. It moved subtly—was it eating?

With the curve of the floor and the nearby pedals, there was no way Lisa was going to be able to trap it like she had before. The thing, whatever it was, didn’t seem to be very interested in her. Unfortunately, she couldn’t just sit there all day waiting for something to happen.

The brunette hesitantly moved closer to the pickup, and then gingerly extended a hand. The critter looked up, and both of them froze for a minute before it lowered its head again. Slowly, she dropped her hand and grasped the log. Lisa dragged it slowly towards her.

She was delighted to see the critter follow along. “Come on, little guy, just a little more,” she crooned, steadily coaxing the critter closer and closer. Finally, with a burst of adrenaline, she yanked the hand away while the other flashed down with the upended container. ”YES!“ she triumphantly crowed.

Emergency responders headed for the billowing smoke further up the road saw nothing remarkable when they passed the battered truck driven by a scared-looking young woman a few minutes later.

The Ninety-First Day

Lisa Barnes locked the door of her apartment behind her and slumped against it, feeling emotionally and physically drained. The inquiry into the fire, the deaths of her parents and the other residents of the camps, and frenzied media speculation made every day of the inquest an ordeal for her. Hopefully it would be over and forgotten soon, and she could work on putting it behind her.

She looked up, smiling, at the sound of rapid footsteps coming from the bedroom. “Who’s a good Pooh Bear? Who’s a good baby? Did you miss me?”

“Oof! Oof!” responded her eager pet, skidding to a halt and bouncing up and down on short legs. In a world of mutts, Bear (only his license said “Smokey”) was uglier than most. His short-haired coat was as uninteresting shade of dark brown, and his body was oddly proportioned, leaving him looking perpetually front-heavy. His small ears were rotated forward, aimed at Lisa, and he barked again. “Oof!”

“I know!” laughed Lisa, “I’m hungry, too!” She bent to pat him and stroke his soft pelt, no longer noticing the interesting contours of his long, triangular head.

She walked into the bedroom, shedding her suit jacket. The attorney she’d hired said it was best to look neat and conservative, but it just made her feel warm. Lisa continued into the bathroom and hiked up the matching skirt. With rising anticipation, the brunette pulled her panties to the side with one hand and got a firm grip on the sink with the other.

The release Lisa felt when she relaxed was as great as ever. Her underwear already had been damp with anticipation, but now her pussy gushed as the thick load inside her pushed outwards, spreading her rosebud wide. She orgasmed immediately and continued shaking, eyes rolling back in her head, as more shit continued to emerge. Lisa finally caught her breath a half minute later when the last of the log fell heavily to the rubber mat in the center of the floor. The result was larger than anything she’d seen at camp, but it wasn’t worthy of comment.

Bear was already studying her offering with excitement. His mouth opened, forming almost a perfect “O”, and he latched onto one end of the enormous brown coil even before Lisa had left the bathroom. She knew the mat would be completely cleaned within just a few minutes.

Lisa stripped off the remainder of her clothing. She checked herself with a finger and absentmindedly sucked it as she walked, naked, to the kitchen. It was a little early for dinner, so she fixed herself a snack— a pint of Haagen-Dazs, an Ensure Plus, and several scoops of whey powder and fiber supplements went into the blender to make a smoothie.

Observers credited her weight loss to grief, but truly Lisa felt like she was eating for two and struggling to maintain her weight on a diet that would have impressed a professional athlete. In a few hours, she’d be ready for a large deep dish pizza—maybe more, if she had to share.

With the smoothie half gone and the raw edge of her hunger blunted, Lisa flopped on the bed and turned on the television to see what had happened during the day. When the bed rocked with the addition of Bear’s 40-pound mass, she set the empty glass aside and spread her legs a little more. She felt no fear now—only anticipation.

A tickle teased one cheek, and then Lisa screamed into a muffling pillow as Pooh Bear’s inquisitive tongue steered its way up her back door. The flexible flesh worked in and out, with each movement sending orgasmic sparks along Lisa’s nerves. The waves of pleasurable sensation weren’t quite up to what she felt when she voided herself, but she’d learned Bear was indefatigable.

The creature known as “Pooh Bear” probed again within the elastic orifice of the being in front of it. It had no knowledge of biology or anatomy, or of the unusual virus that helped define its symbiotic relationship with other higher forms of life. It could not have explained how rewired pleasure centers helped ensure a reliable source of sustenance for a being that technically could not chew food.

It did not care that it was astonishingly large for so young a member of its species. The thought that it had found a host capable of bearing its offspring rather than trusting them to fortune brought no sense of pleasure, although the advantages to a creature with no real natural defenses were many.

The tongue sensed only that nutrient levels in the partially digested fecal matter were high, and instinct suggested the body mass of the creature was large enough to support young until they became self-sufficient. The generative organs often used as a third pair of legs by immature specimens were swollen with their payloads and grew increasingly distended, drooping away from the body.

If others of its kind had been nearby, they would have swarmed, mingling their seed and increasing the diversity of the subsequent generation, but the lack did not concern the creature. The pliant receptivity of the prospective host was all that mattered.

Pooh Bear prepared to spawn.