The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Ms. Simone Summers jogged through the darkened school halls on bare feet.

She had raced back here after receiving her instructions from her new GodLord Tom through his beautiful angelic vessel, Pamela Hope. Simone had been transfixed by the dark haired goddess’s glowing jade eyes when she had explained that Tom—that towering titan of all that was Man, that dazzling epitome of masculinity made flesh—wanted her to find Dr Turner and bring the beast back to them.

All while Tom had upright fucked little Holly (one of Simone’s own prized students) right in front of them, repeated filling her tight teenage womb with his blessed GodSeed.

Oh, how she wanted him—needed him! Her sodden wet pussy was twitching even now just at the very thought of him. That humble living room had been filled with Him. How could it possibly contain Him when his musk and seed permeated the very air? Certainly she had fucked him earlier, sure but since his recent transformation... How was this Tom even possible?

Every XXX-infected girl knew how it went by now. You found a guy, seduced him by any means possible then sucked and fucked him for his precious, euphoria inducing cum until he finally collapsed and shifted into just another XXX-infected slut.

It wasn’t a perfect world, far from it in fact but it was how a girl got her cum-fix and by all the gods above did they need that fix!

...but Tom was different. He had fucked her earlier during his fevered frenzy and that had been great. Ms Summers had floated on that dreamy cloud of contentment that only tasting or being filled with a man’s semen could bring. That awful burning, clawing hunger within her satiated for a time. Replaced with a mindless blissful completeness. Only to wake up some time later and do it over again. Then Tom had transformed, but not into another woman but into a living, magnificent, ever-cumming cock God!

Simone had to steady herself against a wall for a moment to whine and slide a finger through the hot thrumming tightness between her slick thighs. She could still smell him on her skin. Forever marked by him with his heavenly manly scent and she wanted him more than ever now he had transcended.

That was the only word she knew to describe Him now and so here she was. Running through the school in the middle of the night, wearing nothing but her cum soaked blue lycra mini-shorts with her big swaying pendulous tits hanging out as she searched for Dr Turner.

Just as the Goddess Pamela Hope had commanded. With the promise of Tom’s precious GodCock blessing as reward if she succeeded.

Ms. Simone Summers needed that blessing on a desperate primal level To be filled and fucked by the new masterful Tom was something Simone craved more than oxygen. Every cell in her body ached to feel him again. The neurons and pleasure centers of her brain rewired and rewritten solely centralized around Him. So she was going to find Dr Turner then, one way or another, she was going to bring that fucking Beast back to her glorious new King!

She had raced back to the college in her sporty little hatchback with the intention of letting herself into the dark administration building and searching for Dr Turner’s home address in his personnel file. That would be kept in the Dean Hellgrave’s office.

That plan turned on a dime when she had jogged past the school nurse’s office only to freeze in the open doorway.

Her glittering dark eyes widened as Simone gasped at the sight within. The small infirmary had been rudely trashed. Supply cupboards leaned against each other like toppled dominoes. The privacy curtain around the buckled hospital bed was torn halfway off its rail and the medical cabinet was severely crushed back into the plasterboard wall. From it spilled medical supplies across the once pristine white tiled floor.

The fluorescent lights flickered fitfully, lighting up a scene straight out of a horror flick including the unmoving half-dressed figure of Nurse Temple. She was currently splayed face down across the top of the heavy steel desk that had been shoved halfway across the infirmary.

Except, Ms Summers reasoned, most murder victims in horror movies didn’t have big round fleshy asses. Nor thighs so thick that they laddered their owners white nylon stockings or bra-busting volleyball sized tits that propped their prone torsos a full foot up off the desktop. They most certainly didn’t have huge cum-drunk grins plastered onto their pretty passed-out faces.

The nurse’s white and red spandex mini-dress had been hiked up over her wide hips and the remains of her torn lacy white panties clung to one glistening cum slick thigh. The room positively reeked of fucking. It didn’t take Sherlock Holmes to deduce what had happened here.

Now Simone had a trail to follow. Her heart leapt for joy in her bare bouncing breast as she carefully inspected the carnage in the room.

Stepping gingerly into the infirmary—gently placing her dainty feet to avoid the scattered pens, papers, rolls of gauze and the pungent puddles of mixed sexual fluids—she reached for a discarded lab coat lying in a corner of the room and slipped it on. Her abundant tit-flesh was far too prominent to button the simple coat across but after some quick work with a handy pair of surgical scissors Simone turned the thin white cotton garment into an improvised tie-front blouse. Knotting the fabric beneath her massive rippling mounds.

This had the dual effect of making sure her gi-normous sweater puppies were secure and lifting them for best effect. Her mountainous cleavage bulged through the deep make-shift neckline in a wickedly lewd presentation. All the better for the plan forming in Ms Summers devious XXX-infected mind.

Stepping back out into the hall the trail was not hard to follow, not even slightly.

An obvious line of dribbled precum tracked it’s way up the corridor before taking a left turn at the end. It stank of the sexual promise and mere hours ago Ms Simone Summers—one-time gymnastics superstar and respected, hard working educator—would have dropped to her hands and knees then licked it up. Crawling and shuddering in ecstatic pleasure the entire time.

Now it just smelled... lesser.

Simone was fast coming to the realization that despite the fact she had all the constant desperate craving for manseed like every other XXX-infected woman, she was quickly becoming a one-cock slut. In much the same way a feline was an obligate carnivore Ms Summers couldn’t imagine taking the cum of another man into any part of her body. She had seen what a true Man looked like and without him ever asking her to, Simone had devoted herself entirely to him... how could she not?

She shoulder bumped off the wall at the rush of delicious bliss this admission brought her. As though the simple thought of serving Tom and Tom alone was hardwired straight into her throbbing g-spot. It was giving her hot sweet little cums to sustain Simone until she could be in HIS presence again. To be with HIM again, on her knees, servicing him and finally receiving her holy reward.

She moaned as another wash of molten pleasure crashed through her moistening nethers. Simone had to get her head together. Her skintight lycra shorts were already shining wet with her copious pussy juices.

Nnnnrgh! All. For. HIM.

She had to focus on the plan. Her plan...

Gasping softly but reorienting her wandering mind towards her ultimate impending goal Simone rounded the corner on unsteady legs. She spotted a light washing out into the darkened hallway from a large door swinging at a strange angle, dangling ajar off a single bent hinge. Creeping up on tip toe Simone fervently wished she had brought her running shoes for this next part.

Well… not her boring, old sneakers but perhaps a pair of those cute high-heeled tennis shoes some of the country club ladies wore.

...or even better, a sexy pair of strappy gladiator sandals with a knife-heel no lower than three inches. She could easily run in those, what self-respecting XXX-slut couldn’t? She really wanted to look her very hottest when she returned to her Lord Tom’s side with her prize to present to Him.

Repressing another groan of ecstasy Simone pressed her back against the wall beside the door marked as the Janitorial Supply Room. Dr Turner was in there... or rather the Beast was in there judging by the loud grunting, growling and smacking sounds of flesh coming wetly together. Not alone either Simone deduced as she took a long steadying breath. Then, as she craned her head around the busted door frame to peek inside, the sights that accompanied the lewd sounds took Ms Summers’ breath away.

The night janitor Mr E. Paulo had been a middle aged South American immigrant with a mop of black hair and bit of a belly that swelled out the front of his work coveralls before the XXX-epidemic hit but now—going by the new name Estella Paulo—she was something else entirely.

Like so many infected with the Bimbo XXX-strain Estella had looked like an exotic Latina supermodel gone to porn. The stuffy, grubby overalls of the night-shift janitor had vanished. Quickly replaced with a lacy frilly black and white maids uniform of a provocative design.

The scoop neckline of her dress was cut so low and wide that it exposed the edges of her cappuccino aureole. Her eternally stiff pebbled nipples tenting through the ruffle of white lace framing the vast deep valley of her astounding cleavage. A tiny frilled white apron was tied tight around an extra small pinched waistline before the black skirts flared out briefly below only to cut off high on her smooth athletic thighs. Often even going so far as flashing glimpses of her semi transparent white panties beneath.

Black lace garters and knee-high white schoolgirl socks adorned her skyscraper long legs before tucking into the four inch tall shining black leather pumps on her small feet.

Or at least they usually did because, at this moment, Estella Paulo seemed to have lost one high-heel as her feet kicked in midair.

The Beast that was Dr Turner had her. Standing there amid the chaotic shelves of cleaning materials and detergents, a stack of mops and brooms to one side and a knocked over cleaners cart on the other, the once-teacher looked like the overgrown brute he was.

He was bare save a few scraps of fabric clinging to the massively bulging heaving muscles of his overblown frame and the gorgeous Hispanic woman hugged upside down against his powerful chest. He was wearing her like an article of fucking clothing.

His massive veiny muscled forearms arms criss crossed across her slender, softly muscled back as she desperately worked her plush eager mouth and soft manicured hands over his grotesquely swollen cock. Her glorious legs dangled out on either side of his distorted face and they had clearly been going at it for a while from the look of the bubbling mess flowing from between her fluid splattered thighs spread right under Dr Turner’s anvil of a jaw.

Her hair, dark as the night sky, hung silkily down between his spread tree-trunk legs like a Hollywood barbarians loin cloth, bobbing and swaying in time with her head’s hungry movements. Her sexy micro-mini maids outfit was torn from the changes the good doctor’s seed effected on all his sexual partners physiques.

Her already large, milky tits had further inflated, ripping through the black satin and lace to pancake hugely against his bulging mutant abs. Her sculpted ass, swelling hips and slender thighs had broadened, straining her torn white panties to the extreme and completely snapping her pleated garters with their generous new width. Her dainty feet swayed high in the air, ankles clacking together above the Beast’s balding sweaty pate.

He—It held her there. Its massive paws clawing at her fattened posterior and tearing into her ruffled skirts before roaring incoherently and burying its obscene face into the exquisite Latina beauty’s ravaged pussy.

Estella let out a cock-muffled squeal in a mixture of sheerest sizzling hot gratification and sharp discomfort as the force of it’s brutal actions drove her flushed face further down onto it’s jutting monstrosity at the same time the Beast thrust it’s hips upwards claiming her tight slender throat. It fucked her down her onto it’s bulging thrusting manmeat at the same time as it rammed itself up into her face. Using her like an over-inflated fuckdoll, caring not at all for anything or anyone beyond its own carnal appetites.

Ms Simone Summers just watched impassively remembering the rough play the beast had given her.

It had seemed so thrilling at the time to be so utterly stretched out. Filled beyond capacity and handled so powerfully. But now it all felt dull beside the wonders and pleasures her GodKing Tom could—would offer her. So base and animalistic when compared to the soulful spiritual levels of euphoric bliss just being around the One True Man gifted her.

Simone needed this creature to finish already. To give poor sweet Estella what she hungered for and then Simone could set her own plans in action.

Ms Summers had always been a remarkable athlete. A star of the gymnastics scene in her not-so-distant past. A regular and serious long distance track competitor. She was fairly sure that she still held the state record in the track and field long jump event. It was no coincidence that she taught gymnastics and managed most of the high school’s many athletics clubs and events.

She had been in peak athletic condition before the pandemic and, if anything, the XXX-virus, then Dr Turner’s beast seed had further refined and developed her body’s physical capacities to soaring new heights.

Her glutes, hips and thighs had definitely thickened but it had all been with pure vibrant muscle. She felt lighter on her bare feet than she ever had, Even at the height of her gymnastics career and she had stamina for days. If only to keep up with teams of her past lovers between the proverbial sheets.

Sure her tits were now obscenely large and heavy with milk, Simone mused—tightening the knotted material leaving them set high, on display and secured firmly in place—but her sleek muscular back rippled with renewed strength to counter any problems that might cause.

No. If Simone were ever more prepared for what she was about to do, it was in her current physical condition.

Stepping boldly into the doorway she strutted slowly towards the heaving couple with an exaggerated sway in her full hips, crossing her flashing legs one in front of the other like a Parisian catwalk model. Dr Turner’s face shot up from eating out the slutty XXX-maid immediately and his steely gray eyes locked onto her chocolate baby browns with starving intensity. It was as though he had smelled her and something about Ms Summers had an immediate effect on him as she had instinctively known it would.

So she cocked a hip coquettishly at him and gave him a wicked sneer full of hot challenge and false sexual promises.

“CUNT!! WANT CUNT!! WANNA FUCK CUNT!!” The Beast howled with its typical eloquence as it climaxed immediately.

Its heavy balls visibly flexed as it poured its searing cum directly down the stunning Estella Paulo’s gulping starving gullet.

“You want it? Come and get it, big boy!”

Simone gave it a second to fill the happy suckling bimbo up before slapping her full firm lycra clad rump back at the howling creature and taking off back out into the corridors of the sleeping school at a dead sprint.

She had driven here but Simone certainly wouldn’t be driving back to her Master, Her King, Tom the truest aspect of pure masculinity.

It was a seven or eight suburban block long race back to the Brown household or so she figured. Hearing the crash and splintering of wooden doors behind her, Simone bolted out across the moonlit commons of the schoolyard on bare feet. She wasn’t even breathing hard but her heart pounded in wicked excitement causing a wild giggle to bubble up from within.

This was all getting her sooo~ fucking turned on!

She couldn’t resist letting out a joyful cry as she darted out into the quiet streets with that brutal monster thundering behind her. It was hot on her heels but Ms Summers was running with all the nimble speed and grace of a fleet young gazelle under the glowing moon and twinkling stars above...

“Look out Master, I’m coming in hot!”

The Mammazon Tamara Wight sat in the driver’s seat of the nondescript black racer van parked down the street from her target’s residence with a worried crease in her brow and grinding her teeth in frustration. She had seen a lot of strange things since the XXX-virus took hold of the world but the shit she had witnessed tonight was close to taking the whole damn cake and the rest of the desert bar along with it.

For her the infection had been a godsend of a blessing. She had been a sad, chronically single thirty-something corporate drone wasting her life away in an insurance call-center cubicle with only a failing true-crime podcast and a thyroid problem for company.

On the fateful day when the WHO formally declared the world-wide pandemic, she officially had a following of seven subscribers and two of those were her aging parents.

Now Tamara was a Somebody.

The strong right hand of a powerful beautiful business woman with respect, responsibilities and a tall vigorous, athletic body that she could have never dreamed of possessing in her past life.

Sure... Mistress Sierra was a monster with literal slaves locked away in her high-rise HQ basement but weren’t they all monsters of a kind now? Mistress Sierra was just a more successful monster. So long as she continued to give Tamara purpose and a steady feed of that precious potent manseed, the tall Mammazon would continue to be her iron fist.

She was good at it after all. Who would have guessed that fat, ignoble Tamara White from the fifth floor customer service department would have a natural knack for cracking skulls, kidnapping men, leading raids and maintaining tight corporate security?

It troubled her a little at times. Usually when she tried to sleep but before long Mistress Sierra would turn her impossibly gorgeous radiant attention on Tamara again and melt away any doubts or insecurities like faint mist of a hot summer’s day. All before gifting her with another invaluable hit of exquisite man-cum.

So Tamara Wight knew on which side her bread was buttered. She also knew that she was very good at her newfound vocation. Which was why she found the current circumstances so damned frustrating!

“Come in Beta Squad, what is your ETA? Copy.”

“Just turning into the street now, Leader. Coming in dark. Copy.” Came the crackling response over the radio.

It had begun when a nearly naked bimbo in a tiny pair of Lycra workout shorts had shot by right under the nose of her patrol van. She had been laughing wildly and running like greased lightning through the dark suburban intersection as though all the hordes of hell were chasing her.

Tamara was beyond surprised when a short moment later an actual true-to-life monster raged through the same empty intersection hot on the fleeing woman’s trail, roaring and running on all fours as often as not. There could be no doubt it was a male monster though. It had been stark naked and the swinging mass of brutal meat between its legs had been unmistakable. Tamara’s mouth watered at the sight of its swinging immensity and some of the weirder rumors she had been hearing lately were suddenly confirmed.

A male XXX-infected existed and was running free in the streets!

So she leaped straight into action. Killing her headlights to reduce her target visibility and relying on the street lights to follow the hulking great man-thing from a debatably safe distance. All while jumping on the radio to shoot her second searching patrol squad rapid instructions. Her mistress would want this new creature captured and caged, no doubt about it.

She had two squads of four Mammazons in matching black unmarked vans for this search and seizure operation, of which her own vehicle was the first. Behind her in the back were her three squad-mates dressed like her in combat boots, snug fitting camouflage pants, industrial strength sports bras and webbing utility harnesses. Strapped to them and every available surface of the van’s interior were the tools of their violent trade.

Animal control leash poles, cattle prods, restraining cuffs and collars were fastened securely to the vehicle’s walls. Cans of mace, tear gas, flash-bang grenades and extendable batons hung from their belts and harnesses.

Hell, Tamara even had a genuine CODA All-Purpose Net Cannon locked away in a big tool box in the back if she needed it. She had thought she packed everything she might require in a nonlethal seek and capture mission.

“Kill your engines and remain at a distance. We don’t want to spook the goose. Copy.”

“Copy that, Leader. Killing the engines now.”

Except maybe this one, Tamara worried at her bottom lip in an old show of anxiety she hadn’t presented in months.

She was confident in her own strength and that of her girls, they were Mammazons for Christ’s sake! They regularly bench pressed over six hundred pounds each and barely broke a sweat. The XXX-virus had given them new forms with strength enough to take any man they desired.

…but as they had cruised quietly past a family sedan carelessly knocked up onto its side, tires still spinning idly, by the rampaging man-beast Tamara wasn’t sure that it would be enough.

It was the scene that had played out in the front yard of the suburban residence that had her suddenly rethinking her carefully laid plans. After all, no plan survives first contact and a good leader has to be flexible and adaptable. Though what she had seen as they waited on their back-up to arrive was truly game changing.

They had pulled up at one end of a quiet suburban street and killed the engine just in time to see the racing bouncing amber-haired beauty dash up the front path of the only house still lit up at this late hour. Tamara couldn’t hear much from this distance but watched through her compact binoculars as the massive man-thing tore through the white picket fence and roared in furious challenge at the front door.

“Tamara, are you sure we can handle this job? We could tell…”

“Shush! I’m thinking. Failure is not an option tonight, ladies.”

Her squad’s gasps had echoed Tamara’s own as they all clustered around the front seat and witnessed a female figure of impossible beauty step through the open doorway to stare calmly at the raging beast ripping up the front lawn. At first Tamara had wondered if there was another of her Mistress’s unique Queen Bitch XXX-strain but the look in the eyes of this heavenly creature was not one of sneering untouchable aloofness but one of quiet confidence and endless compassion.

She was transcendent in her beauty, with a long waterfall of chocolate curls flowing down the slender curvature of her back tickling the tops of her full firm hips and glorious heart shaped ass. Her breasts were immense, full ripe teardrops of perfect pliant tit-flesh that defied both gravity and the imagination. She was naked but for a frilly pink and white lace thong and supremely confident standing there in her natural state, achingly beautiful face serene.

Tamara Wight had never seen anyone like her as the heart rate spiked upon sighting her. The celestial woman almost glowed with life, vitality and inhuman grace.

The heavenly figure had spoken words to the beast. That mad abhorrence of grotesquely engorged muscles, great bulging veins and immense physical mass. Calm words of command if her poise and expression were anything to go by. Had her eyes flashed jade green in the night darkened front porch? Tamara couldn’t be sure but whatever she had said the monster hadn’t taken it well, as it tore up a huge sod of lawn and soil to hurl at her.

Then suddenly He was there, stepping smoothly out the door. Moving quickly in front of the chocolate haired goddess and knocking the heavy dirt projectile aside with a perfunctory swat of his wrist. It had impacted the weatherboard exterior of that house with a heavy splat.

He was a divine contrast to the monstrous male in the front yard. The entire squad of Mammazons had gaped at his statuesque appearance.

They watched awestruck as this tall magnificent specimen stepped out into the yard without the slightest hint of fear. He was naked and the hard play of his powerful muscles as he moved with effortless adroitness was like a sweeping symphony made manifest.

He was a walking work of chiseled art standing there in the moonlight, back lit in silhouette by the light spilling from within the home, as if all the greatest Renaissance Masters had come together and joined their talents to create a one of a kind masterpiece simply entitled “Man”.

His hair was thick and full. His jawline was strong and defined. His eyes clear and bright. His skin smooth unblemished and glowing softly. He looked like a golden idol to all Tamara could dream of desiring in a man and more.

So much more.

She had almost swooned when he had spoken to the monster. Tamara couldn’t hear his voice at this distance but she could imagine it clearly enough. Strong and commanding and filled with promises that would never be broken. The overgrown man-thing had shied back from his assured confident approach, suddenly confused and hesitating like an injured animal. She watched its great shoulders rising and falling as the mutant creature panted for breath, backing away from the glowing god’s slow confident steps.

She had to keep slapping her squad-mates grasping hands away from the binoculars. Deaf to their plaintive begging to let them see, as Tamara watched him with riveted attention.

Her free hand had strayed down between her camo-clad thighs, seeking out the mounting molten heat smoldering there. The Adonis had his hands up and was speaking again, like some mystical monster whisperer calming the raging man-beast with small gestures and soft but firm words.

It had settled back on its haunches, staring at its own massive hands as though it didn’t recognise them. Its massive brow furrowed in puzzlement.

Then the lights of the house next door came on unexpectedly and almost ruined everything. The monster reeling about in surprise and roaring again.

Two teenage girls—high-school age and uninfected—dressed in pajamas stood huddled together in the front door of the neighboring house looking terrified at the primal display. Then the Man shouted an immediate command that struck the beast-thing like a whip crack. Turning its attention back to him where it had begun to cower.

The glowing goddess had re-emerged from the house, modestly attired in a soft satiny bathrobe that hung to the tops her silky thighs on barely concealing her modesty. It was belted closed at the waist and she carried a similar garment for him.

Without ever breaking eye contact with the monster, the incredible Man let her slide it over his broad shoulders then reach around him to tie it shut, her stunning face snuggling lovingly against his strong sturdy back as she did so. When the exquisite angel was done she remained there, her elegant hands sliding up his impossible body as she pressed herself into him from behind. Completely heedless of the danger she was in by simply being so close to the conflict.

It was clear that it didn’t matter to her, the show-stopping woman was with Him and so long as she was, nothing could hurt her. Her posture shouted this fact as she relaxed her radiant body against His, like a love-struck newly wed or perhaps a happy kitten?

Tamara had pressed at her quivering womanly folds through the sturdy cotton covering her lap and felt a wet patch beginning to form there. She couldn’t help it, even as she silently berated herself for being so weak.

The golden God pointed a hand to the two girls—he knew them! Of course he did—and calmly gave them instructions. The younger of the pair tried to ask something but the older girl cut her off and hustled them both inside, closing the door behind them.

Then, completely focused on the hunched and trembling figure of the mutated Beast, He reached out a firm hand and rested it on the creature’s rocky shoulder.

That was when it happened. The monster shrank.

There was no other way to describe it and it was impossible but right there in that front yard the giant man-beast deflated like a ruptured balloon. Its massively muscled limbs slimmed down, its chest and back constricted, its hands and feet shrank down until all that was left was a tired and slightly worried looking bald middle aged man huddled naked on the front lawn.

“I understand, Leader but… but you saw him, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, I saw him. Now settle down and put on your big girl panties. This operation is going to succeed, we’re Mammazons for fucks sake.”

Tamara had gasped with both disbelief and the flood of ecstasy rushing through her at witnessing the young godling’s dominance. Her powerfully muscled thighs trembled. Behind her it sounded like her squad-mates were panting so hard they might have been on the verge of hyperventilation.

With a satisfied smile the towering demigod had helped the naked man to his feet and led him back into the home, a pale sagging butt shining briefly in the moonlight before the door closed behind them. As though a supernatural event hadn’t just played out on the front lawn.

…And Tamara was expected to go in there and capture these targets.

Coming back to herself she whipped her hand away from her hungry trembling pussy and scowled back at her squad of Mammazons. They were meant to be a group of bad-ass XXX-infected bitches. Not staring blankly ahead with dreamy expressions on their faces, looking like a bunch of silly schoolgirls spotting their favorite teen heart-throb. Tamara was her mistress’ chief enforcer. She was a professional dammit and she had a mission to complete.

Then her frustration returned redoubled...

How the hell was she going to do this? How was she supposed to go up against something like that? One man who could literally blow up into a raging muscled behemoth if provoked and the other a shining paragon of strength and masculine beauty seemingly come directly from the heavens themselves. Not to mention a female infected of some gorgeous new strain that made even Tamara weak at the knees to look upon.

Her Mistress would want all of them.

This would mean a drastic change in their usual operational protocols to say the least. Then the vans two-way crackled to life and brought her back to the present.

“Alpha Squad, we are in position and awaiting instructions. Do you copy?”

That meant the second van containing Beta Squad had made its way up the other end of the street and was now similarly positioned to her own with eyes on the house. Tamara dropped her binoculars to pick up the radio and turned to face her own watching squad as she spoke as much to them as to the other vehicle.

“Beta Squad, I copy. There’s been a change in plan. The perceived threat level is higher than anticipated. This is no longer a simple tag and bag. We are going to need some... insurance.”

Her eyes fell on the neighboring house, the front porch light still lit up but the door closed. Two young uninfected teens that were known to, and under the protection of that angelic being. It would be enough. It had to be! Her mistress would never forgive losing so many unique individuals for her to study and toy with. So coming back empty handed was not an option. Tamara’s voice hardened with resolve.

“...this is what I want you to do Beta Squad. Listen up and listen well.”

Initial Research Findings: The molecular pathology of the XXX-virus is largely unknown but some facts concerning the spread and its symptoms can be recorded by means of observation and physical examination.

Infection is most common via fluid contact among females but requires sexual transmission for transfer to a male host. Only subjects whose bodies have reached a currently undefined level of biological maturity appear to have the required biochemistry to allow for successful incubation of the virus.

Early CDC studies identified that the XXX-virus binds to the DNA as a third alien helix adds a third X chromosome to the binary sex chromosomes pairing before propagating new cellular mass at hither undocumented rates. The rapid colonization of infected subjects leads to depleted levels of free amino acids, enzymes, phosphorylcholine and prostaglandin. All of which can be found in rich quantities in spermatozoa.

Despite the lack of hard evidence regarding the origins of the virus, it has been classified as a “Smart Virus” given the alarming rate of infection, adaptation and resistance to treatment.

Known mutation strains:

• Skank Strain (common): Infected display cheerleader fit physiques who produce intense pheromones when aroused from their foaming genitalia to attract uninfected males.
• Bimbo Strain (common): Infected present slender model-esque bodies with prodigious lactating mammaries that appear to grow in size as they imbibe further semen. This milk and a unusual level of base cunning are used to attract willing sexual partners.
• Mammazon Strain (uncommon): Some isolated test subjects who have been prohibited further allowances of semen have spontaneously developed this unfortunate strain of the virus. Subjects invariably gain in height and muscle mass. Increased strength and fortitude are common symptoms of this mutation and containment of said subjects has been an ongoing issue.
• Beast Strain (rare) (conditional): Only one case of this mutation has been observed so far and to call it a new strain is technically inaccurate. It is more of a reaction to a particular source of spermatozoon from something the interviewed subject kept calling “The Beast”. It results in a full curvaceous figure that is thick and extremely voluptuous but not at all obese. Beyond that they were not forthcoming though the fact this information came from a school is troubling.
• Queen and/or Goddess Strain (unique): This is all conjecture and should be treated as such. Rumors and gossip at best. It is uncertain if this one single mutation or two distinct strains but what little corroborating data can be gathered indicates that this strain produces a powerfully attractive subject with some ability to mentally affect those within a certain proximity. Approach with extreme caution.

That’s all I’ve got for you at the moment, Gina. There’s only so much I can do with the limited resources I have at hand, being locked down and quarantined in my dismally underfunded laboratory. If you want better results then stop sucking Dr Thomson’s goddamn dick for five goddamn minutes and bring me more test subjects!

You’re supposed to be the head researcher on this project for God’s sake.

…And more ball gags too. The current test subjects have chewed through the last batch already and if I have to keep listening to them begging for my cock all day and night, I will not be held accountable for any professional misconduct that may occur.

So hurry it the fuck up, Slut!