The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Tessi brushed her curly red hair in front of the mirror. She was twenty years old, and as she looked in at her reflection, the brush brush brush of her hairbrush passing through, she thought that she looked it. She still had all the vibrancy of youth— the excitement, the innocence of it.

Though she was young, she was already engaged to be married. She had been engaged for a few months already, now. She was a romantic at heart, so getting married so young, at only twenty, was a natural fit. Other twenty-year olds might have resented being tied down at such a young age— not Tessi. She was just looking forward to being married after dreaming about it her whole life.

Though she was a romantic, Tessi was not a very sexual person; Matt, her fiancé, often told her that when it came to sex she was very boring. He said this, she thought, because she rarely gave him any sex to enjoy— and when she did, she only consented to fucking him in the missionary position; she would do nothing else, take no other sexual adventure. They’d dated awhile before getting engaged— their relationship had been like this all along.

Tessi could also tell, when she looked in at her mirror reflection, that the excess weight she carried on her hips was still there— though her stomach was modestly sized, and her upper-body too, so much so that her C-cup breasts stood out distinct from an otherwise thin surrounding frame. A thin surrounding frame that suddenly came out into too-wide and too-much-weight at her hips only.

Though Matt told Tessi she was boring sexually, Tessi still loved him. He was dark haired, which was a novelty to her with her red hair. And he was older than her— in his mid-20s instead of just literally beginning them in their first year, where she herself was currently at. He was a movie nerd; they didn’t have that in common either, but Tessi didn’t mind listening to him take about it. And Matt really did love having sex with her, though her freely complained about Tessi’s boringness as a sex partner.

He especially liked oral sex, but Tessi was never willing to perform this on him; she often talked about this recurring conflict in their sex life with her friends.

Brigid was Tessi’s first friend— she was brown-haired, but it was only a medium brown, not as dark as Matt’s hair. She was in her early 20s, slightly older than Tessi by a year or two— and Brigid was also engaged, just like Tessi was. Her fiancé was called Dylan, and unlike Tessi’s, hers and Dylan’s was not a recent engagement. They had been engaged for a few years now. Brigid was a very shy person, so Tessi had never been surprised that Brigid had scooped up the first guy who’d taken an active interest in her. She so rarely went out beyond her comfort zone there was a good chance Brigid would never have had another chance at love after Dylan if she’d turned him down. She, like Tessi, was similarly disinterested in sex.

Her behavior was always above reproach— she cared a lot about being correct in her comportment, being correct in everything that she did. She cared so much that everything she did was always totally correct— there was never a slight flaw about any part of her which might have invited criticism. Tessi knew how hard Brigid worked to keep things that way.

Her body was slender, and objectively sexy, so too bad for the male sex as a whole that Brigid had never really cared for sex— too bad for Dylan that he had Brigid but never really got to enjoy her, as Brigid frequently reported when all the friends were hanging out; fitting for a body as slim as Brigid, her breasts were only a B-cup, but so well formed they were no less sexy for their reduced size.

Dylan, Brigid’s fiancé, was dark haired like Matt. His body was of a normal build size; he was definitely bigger, and when stood next to Brigid’s slenderness, it was striking to see. He was much older than Brigid, even than of Matthew— he was in his early 30s, with a full 10 years on Brigid’s age. He wore big glasses on his face, and he was a Sci-fi nerd. There was a bit of overlap between this interest and Matt’s love of movies, which always helped the two of them get along, find something enjoyable to talk about, and stay on good terms. He also loved sex, like Matt did, but he never got much of it from Brigid.

Tessi’s second friend was Lani. She was a blonde, the only one in their friend group. She was also a single lesbian— Tessi’s exact age, 20 years old, and she gave Tessi special treatment— always gave Tessi special treatment that made Tessi wonder why; but if Tessi ever pointed out the ways in which Lani went out of her way to do nice things with her, Lani got so defensive and denying about it that Tessi generally tried not to mention it. Lani liked helping Tessi out, giving her little gifts and token to show she was thinking of her, but she never liked to be called on it— and all that thoughtfulness was an enjoyable part of their friendship. Tessi appreciated it, so… she could let Lani do it and pretend not to notice, as Lani seemed to prefer. She imagined it was because Lani was self-conscious— she didn’t like to be acknowledged for good deeds done. Tessi could respect that. She let Lani be about it.

Lani, like Tessi, also wore a little too much weight about her hips. Her breasts were B-cups like Brigid. If Brigid had not been so proper they probably could have easily gone bra shopping together and helped each other out. And when Tessi and Brigid sat around talking about their disinterest in sex, and its absence from both of their long-term relationships, Lani sat at the same table, expressing the opposite. She was very sexually involved, enjoyed sex a lot, saw it as the best way to have fun— it was just that she was only interested this way in other women, since she was a lesbian.

Tessi’s third friend was Val, which was short form for Valerie. Everyone in the group who had a long name shortened it to its short form.

Val was also brown-haired— Lani truly was the only blonde— and she was slim in shape. Overall she was pretty small, actually— the same age as Brigid, her early 20s, slightly older than both Tessi and Lani at their shared age of 20. She was shy, but she also acted like a bitch around the people she was comfortable with. Which meant she acted like a bitch around all her friends— since she was comfortable with them. She didn’t like partying at all— refused to drink alcohol, even when they were all out at a bar together, and she generally hated all forms of fun. So when Lani spoke freely about sex as a vehicle for fun, Val usually judged that. She didn’t care that Lani was a lesbian— everyone in their friend group was very accepting of that, otherwise Lani probably wouldn’t have stayed in the group with them for long. Val judged Lani for having fun through sex— judged everyone else for having fun, however they had it— because she hated fun herself.

Her bitchy streak meant that Val had a bit of a naturally dominant personality. This might have been particularly appealing to a naturally submissive personality, if found in a prospective partner— too bad for any such partner that Val was disinterested in sex also. Because of this general lack of interest, Val was also single. Her breasts were only A-cups; but it would have been attraction to Val’s personality, a desire to be bitched around, that would have drawn any partner to her. And Val had had people throw themselves after her— she’d just turned them all down, because she didn’t care about fucking them.

Tessi’s final friend in the group was Rowen. Rowen’s hair was also brown, and she kept it short. She was the youngest of them all, at only 19 years old. She was small, possibly even smaller than Val, as though she’d missed a growth spurt or two. Her breasts were A-Cups, like Val’s. Unlike Brigid and Lani, Val and Rowen did tend to go bra shopping together; because, given Val’s naturally dominant personality, Rowen tended to tag along and follow after her in her wake. Rowen was single, too, and she wore glasses. She was bitchy, like Val was too, but oddly enough this didn’t repel them from each other. They seemed closest to each other out of everyone in the group and actually got along well, despite how they generally clashed with everyone else. They were both bitchy in ways that were compatible, and they always seemed to enjoy being with each other.

Rowen went through boyfriends quickly, often change one for another; she was a bit dominant too, though she naturally submitted this to Val and folded in to taking her lead. This did not translate to the bedroom as Val’s dominance might have, if only she’d been interested in sex. She was only interested in the kind of sex that Tessi also tolerated— missionary position, standard fare, no adventure. But she did like sex, in this form— that was different from everyone else in the group, apart from Lani.

Tessi had finished brushing her hair at last; she was ready to go for the day, and it was a good thing, because there were plans already thought up and made. Today, she, and all her friends were going on a summer vacation for a week.

She went down from the bathroom, and found Matt had already gone outside to the car— she looked out, and saw he had already gotten mostly packed.

Tessi had made sure to finish the suitcases last night before going bed— it was nice that, today, Matthew had gotten up even earlier than her, and had taken the packed and zippered suitcases down from the bedroom and gotten them all loaded into the car. He was already properly dressed for the drive, too; close that looked comfortable, and would be neither too hot nor too chilly in the summer weather; would not be too hot under sun coming in through the windshield once they were out driving on the highway, nor too cold under the air conditioning once it was set even to the lowest setting. They’d gone on a driving vacation before and both of them had gotten cold; even to the point of getting sick a cold, because it had been too hot not to have the air conditioning on, but once the air conditioning was on, even to the lowest setting, it had been too cold. And the cold had crept up on them— not too cold at first, but after several hours of driving it had felt like a freezer.

Matt had learned from this past mistake— he was wearing a long-sleeve shirt, but it was only made of cotton; a good compromise, in terms of temperature; he was wearing pants made of the same fabric, though they were a darker color. Even this was a good driving plan— because they’d be sitting down for a long time; driving a long time; and Tessi knew comfort was important. She’d dressed for it too; wore loose, flow drawstring pants and a soft cotton long-sleeve shirt like Matt’s, too. Although hers was much more feminine; it hugged to her body, even at the start of her too wide hips, where the hem of the shirt rested.

Matt turned to look at her after getting the second suitcase into the trunk. He smiled, always happy to see her— he made her feel so loved, and when he was looking at her, Tessi saw he was completely ready. He had combed his hair neatly, combed it to neatness— and it gave him some trouble at times, getting out of hand and wild with sleep or just with the progression of the day. It was at least neat to start with today.

She liked Matt when he combed his hair like that— it made the dark color of it more striking. She even felt a little attracted to him— she might have been able to do something with that feeling, something more than just tolerating missionary, if they hadn’t had to leave so soon.

As it was, she could at least kiss him good morning for smiling at her like that— and when she did, she was sure he felt the added passion in it, but he didn’t comment on it.

She’d packed with great care, and now that was all in the car and handled. But they’d both known their summer vacation was coming— and they were going for an entire week, so Tessi had wanted to make sure they would both have enough to last them, and also have options to choose from. She’d not only packed for both them, and she hadn’t only done it once. For two weeks she’d been packing and repacking— it was part of how she’d gotten ramped up and excited for the trip, part of how she celebrated its approach. Packing and repacking, trying to think of everything, refining the packing list, deciding somethings weren’t necessary after all, taking them out, deciding somethings were crucial, putting them in. She’d finally gotten both suitcases perfect— and she’d appreciated Matt staying out of the packing process and not interfering. She knew him well enough to know what he liked; and he hadn’t so much as made a request— he hadn’t interrupted her at all, just let her do her thing. And she had zippered the suitcases finally last night with an air of triumph— finally coming to the end of an elaborate process; and Matt had been proud for her, happy for.

And it had been so nice of him to bring the suitcases down and load them up.

“That’s everything,” Tessi said, definitively— if Matt questioned her now on what they were bringing— implied that after so much careful planning and adjustment, she had missed something—

“That’s everything,” Matt confirmed, leaving no room for any such implication— making it clear that he believed they had everything they needed.

Tessi smiled at this subtle validation, and raised herself on the balls of her feet to peck at his mouth again one more time.

“The keys are already in the car,” he added. “I’ll just get them, and lock the front door.”

He stepped away to do this; and Tessi took the chance to sit down in the passenger seat and buckle herself in.

Matt was back a minute later, having finished locking the front door. He set the keys in the ignition, turned it, and started the car. Tessi looked at the clock on the dashboard— they were leaving exactly on time.

This was important, because they’d coordinated their leaving time with several other people. They were all meant to be hitting the same stretch of the highway at once, a few minutes from now, and once they caught up to each other, they would drive on together in a convoy; they’d all timed the times they individually needed to leave so they’d arrive at the same part of the highway at same time, having factored in how far away everyone’s houses were from the point they were going to.

The people closer had left later— the people further away had left earlier, but they would all be there together at once.

Because Matt and Tessi weren’t going on vacation alone— all of Tessi’s friends were coming too. Brigid, Lani, Val and Rowen; and Brigid was bringing Dylan. They would drive in their convoy in three separate cars— Matt and Tessi in theirs, Brigid and Dylan in theirs, and Lani, Val and Rowen all in the third. Tessi knew that Lani Val and Rowen had all spent the night in the same house, Lani’s house, because Lani’s house was closer to the highway exit that they needed, so they could all leave together in the morning without having to carpool around and pick each other up from their houses.

Together, in their three-car convoy, the seven of them were driving to Denmark— where they had booked a remote house, complete with swimming pool and whirlpool, for amenities, on the shore of the North Sea.

They had all also agreed on the basics that everyone was going to bring in their luggage; those had been the non-negotiables for Tessi while she had been packing— she’d changed everything else around, but made sure to keep those things in their suitcases with every change, because she knew her friends would all be bringing them too. Each one was bringing alcohol, in each suitcase— as well as game consoles, movies, and marijuana— there would be an excess of all the agreed upon sources of entertainment, though varied in their specifics, and throughout the week Tessi knew everyone would trade around what they’d brought with them. It was going to be a fun week; a perfect summer vacation week, by the side of the sea.

With the car started, Matt drove them away from their house, and Tessi watched it disappear, saying to it a silent goodbye— it would be seven days before she saw it again, and that thought filled her with happiness. It was nice to get away.

The drive actually went quickly, though it took several hours. Each of the three cars was at the early rendezvous point exactly when they should have been, so the convoy formed up naturally, and kept speed with itself, the three of them moving in a line, never losing any one car no matter how the highways went up, or down, or curved around. At last, they were pulling up in front of their rented vacation house, at exactly the same time. It was a thoroughly modern affair; one story, but long and spread out, every wall a window, the roof modern and flat like cutting edge architecture— it looked even better than it had in the picture on the website that they had booked through; all three cars parked in the driveway, and everyone got out, took their suitcase with them, and went inside.

Before reunions could happen, everyone wanted to get settled in the space, so the first thing everyone did was venture off towards the bedrooms. Matt and Tessi took a room with a double bed; there was a second room with the same that was right across from theirs in their section of the hall, and Dylan and Brigid took this one; the room besides theirs had two singles beds, and Lani and Rowen took this one— Val, of course, asked for her on room to herself and took the room which was beside Matt and Tessi’s, since it was the only room that had a single bed by itself. And Val, of course, got what she wanted, just like she always did.

Once everyone had their suitcases and things in their rooms, they all came back out to the main living room of the house, where there was a beautiful view waiting for them out of whichever room that they happened to look through.

All out in the living room, the reunions began. Tessi and all her friends hugging, taking their turns to express their excitement at seeing each other, at all being together again. Dylan and Matt did not embrace like the rest, but they both gave a clasping slap of acknowledgement to each other’s opposite shoulder as their way of expressing delight at being again in each other’s company with an entire week of visiting and enjoyment to be looking forward to.

Tessi, having now managed to hug each one of her four friends, and giddily giggle with them like they were all still girls, stood back, and savored the feeling of being among friends. It was like the air itself was different; there was a mood in the house, an energy, and it was palpable. It was the mood of good times, a festive air, a sociable air, like it was its own separate sentient thing— Tessi loved the feeling of it there. It was the product of all of them being so happy with each other in such close quarters. The living room was spacious so the quarters need not have been close, but they were all standing as closely together as it was possible to stand, making the space between each other shrink down. They were happy, their happiness reflected off each other and got into the air, and then they took it back from the air, and it kept multiplying that way. Tessi imagined she could feel it happening; like a loop of feedback feeding on itself to grow. She was happy, it radiated out of her into the surrounding space, and joined everyone else’s radiating happiness. Then all that combined radiating happiness rose up into the air; and each one of it breathed it back in, absorbed through the skin of their bodies, into themselves, then felt happier, and radiated back out— adding to the feeling. It was buoying all them up, raising them higher and higher— each one. Tessi couldn’t remember the last time she’d been in a place where the mood was so good and light; she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so happy.

It was even moving beyond the little grouping of four female friends; the two male fiancés were being affected by it too— they had clasped each other to the shoulder, but now they were both smiling wide smiles at each other, falling into easy conversation about sci-fi movies. Everyone in the room was in a good mood, and when they felt good, the communal mood increased ever higher.

There was, in fact, only one person who was not quite touched by the general enthusiasm. One person who was not enthused. Val— even among friends, even surrounded by such general joy, Val was still the bitch she was, which came with being in a perpetually sour mood; and she wore a sour expression, standing out from all the smiles around her. Everyone else was used to this by now— they’d been her friend long enough to develop the tolerance for it; but Val was judging all their shows of joy to herself. It was silly, in her opinion, that they were all getting so worked out. It wasn’t even three days they’d been apart— they saw each other all the time, they didn’t need to be reuniting like they were long-lost friends catching up to each other after years or decades apart. But just like Val’s friends knew her to be a bitch, she knew them to be a bit sappier than was reasonable, in her opinion. They tolerated her bitchiness and she tolerated their sap. So while she privately thought they were all being idiots, she kept it to herself and let them keep on with it. Though she did nothing to pretend she was in a bright mood. She stayed as she was, expressing how she felt in the way she stood, the expression she wore, and letting that be enough. They were all comfortable enough as things were— had struck a mutual balance, and the day went on.

The good mood, if it was possible, only increased by the hour. They all explored around the house together, and then explored around the grounds outside the house, and by evening, the entire group, men and all, were in the throes of raucous celebration, going wild with the fun they were all having. Everyone had brought their contraband out of their suitcases; they were passing their different kinds of alcohol around, smoking from each other’s weed, playing each other’s game consoles, looking over each other’s shoulders to watch other people play, entertaining other people watching them, trading consoles halfway through games— nobody was playing very well, as the night was going on, and they were all becoming increasingly inebriated through continuing time. They were all mixing kinds of inebriation, too— alcohol with marijuana, both of those with natural competitiveness as some of them raced each other for victory in the games they were playing. The soundtrack to the room was wild laughter— even Val had finally cracked a smile, thanks to her buzz.

She happened to look out through one of wallwindows, into what had become, by then, the night sky— she had only glanced away from the console she’d been watching over Rowen’s shoulder as Rowen did her best to win that round of her game— she had only meant to glance away once, on reflex, and then look back right away. She didn’t want to miss Rowen winning, after all.

But she didn’t get to look back as quickly as she meant to, because she saw something in the sky. Something was raining down in a streak— it fell at an angle, and left a trail of fire behind itself after it went; trails of fire like that, so bright that it was easy to imagine how hot the fallen thing was, didn’t fall out of the sky all the time, and Val found herself staring at that failing trail for a minute.

The others were still celebrating in chaos around her; when Val looked around, she saw none of them had noticed; and when she looked again, she saw that the trail of fire had arced around; it looked like it was coming down towards the house. It must be a meteor, it was the only conclusion that Val could come to— and there was nothing she could do, she had no power to redirect a meteor’s path. It was a major force moving in the world, and she was only one person, to whom such major forces would never answer, never listen— who those major forces couldn’t even here. All she could do was sit in its path and let its destruction raindown upon. She very seriously considered, even through her intoxication, that she and her friends were all going to die. It was all she could to hold onto the couch, and watch that prick of light grow bigger and bigger— coming for them, to annihilate at all.

But when it had gotten impossibly big, it started shrinking down again, though she knew it was still coming on closer— breaking down faster than it could fall, and finally, it did not hit the house, but landed some ten or fifteen feet away, smouldering. None of the others had noticed— none of them had realized how close to death they had all come. Only Val had been keeping the vigil.

“Did you all see that?” Val spoke up, catching the attention of the others. “A meteor landed outside. It fell from the sky!”

Everyone gave her skeptical looks— laughed at her, told her she was being silly. No one had believed her, though she could still see the smoke from the impact, still remembered the flash of light in her mind— that flash of light, so burning bright it had for a moment being captivating— that flash of hypnotic light— but no one else had seen it. No one believed her, and only about three minutes after her commenting on it, everyone else in the room had already forgotten that Val had said anything, in favor of the chaos all around them that they were more inclined to pay attention to.

The next morning, everyone woke up late, after sleeping in late, and they all decided to go their separate ways. Matt and Tessi felt like going for a walk— Lani and Rowen wanted to go shopping in the town that was a forty-five minute drive way, and Dylan and Brigid decided they wanted to go down to the beach on the North Sea’s shore. Val didn’t want to go with anyone— she stayed behind in the house, all alone, waited until everyone had been gone for a few minutes, and then she went outside herself, heading in the direction of the place she had seen the meteor hit.

It was there, still ten or fifteen feet away from the house, only, and there was a small piece of meteorite left on the ground. Val picked it up, claiming it as her treasure while also feeling a sense of somberness in doing so. Only she knew how close things had come to calamity— the thing she held in her hand had nearly done it to them, done them all in. She folded her fingers around it, closing her fist, and carried it back into the house with her.

Val returned to her room. She was glad she had insisted on a solitary one now— there was no roommate waiting inside to snoop or try to steal her discover. Her loot was all her own. She closed the door behind her just to make sure. No one else was home at that moment, no one else except for her, but just in case anyone else did return, she didn’t want anyone seeing her from the hallway. Shut door meant total privacy. She could enjoy her discovery without needing to worry at all about shielding it from other eyes. The door had already done all that shielding for her; it saved her doing the task herself.

Val took a seat on her single bed, which was centered below the middle of the lefthand wall. She sat only on the edge of it, and it was pliant beneath her rump; a comfortable mattress— she’d had a comfortable sleep the previous night— she looked forward to another comfortable sleep in the night that would come— but she could forget all of that for now.

She looked down at her open palm, having already unfurled her fingers. The stone was still there.

For a moment, as she looked at it, it was hard to remember that thing had fallen from space. She had seen it with her own eyes, and she still had trouble remembering— any of her friends would have been as skeptical as the night before or moreso having not seen as she’d seen, though she had begged them.

But it was a piece of meteor— coming from places or parts unknown. And she held it still in her hand.

It was a still stone one minute— the next, it tilted to the side.

Val stared. Her eyes had been tempted to slip away— she’d heard a creak somewhere far off in the house, and her eyes had wanted to follow it uselessly, though the walls between her and the creak’s source would have blocked any possible answer to the question of what she had heard. But when the rock tilted, she did not let her eyes go. She stared. She must have been imagining.

But she stared, just in case it had not been.

There it went— it tilted the other way. It had been lying on one side of itself; but the tilt was so dramatic, it was like the meteor piece leapt into the air and flipped over, in mid-air still, to land on the exact opposite side it had been lying on. Once, it might have been a trick of her eyes— but that was twice now. That was unnatural— no stone should have been able to move like that— but look at that, it was moving again!

It was not flipping once, slowly, now. It was shaking in the palm of her hand. To one side, to the other, back and forth, like a ball rolling between four corners, hitting one, bouncing off it to roll to the other corner— to the other— it shook as if full of some barely repressed energy, shook like something trying to break out of an enclosing cage. Val frowned down on it. She shouldn’t be seeing this— it shouldn’t be there to see. She was starting to regret having brought it back with her from the impact site. It wasn’t behaving at all like it should have been— she wished she was not holding it, and yet she couldn’t now seem to drop it from her hand. She was too wrapped in the curiosity of seeing what it was going to do next.

She frowned harder, looked in a little closer at the shaking thing— the texture against her hand was stone, but was there really something inside of it trying to break out? What could be in there, if not solid stone of meteorite straight through. It felt like stone, but the solution couldn’t be so simple as that.

Val’s eyes widened— she had expected the stone to break open, like eggshell, and reveal the equivalent of an egg-yolk within. But— it was not doing that. The properties of the meteorite shard were changing in the duration of her looking; parts of the outer shard seemed to dissolve by something— acidic— something that was foaming. Only when those parts dissolved, the meteor shard did not shrink. Instead, the parts that had dissolved became gooey, like running melted chocolate— only the goo was black; and bubbling out, dissolving the shard from the inside and replacing it.

It was like the shard was being activated— but to what purpose, Val couldn’t guess. The shard dissolved, the goo replaced— the meteor was expanding outward; it was shaking so hot it had seemed to generate energy within itself. It was acting like a heater now, a battery, but it shook harder and harder, and the solid dissolved to goo at double or triple the rate. The center of it radiated heat, and it was warming her into the center of her own hand, beneath her palm, in her handbones. It made her entire hand feel fragile, feel delicate. She was a little afraid of the thing she held, for it generated heat of such potency. It felt like if it got much hotter, it would be hot enough to burn her bones to ash inside her body, illogical as that same. But what made one illogic less improbable than another? It should not be possible for the stone to be doing any of things it was doing— yet it was doing them— why should another thing be impossible, when others weren’t?

Some of the goo had finished dissolving the stone where it rested against her palm. But the heat, when the goo touched her there, did not frighten her any further. The warmth of it, compared to the warmth coming out of its center as radiation, was pleasing. It comforted her body, allayed her fear. It felt only like the hot water of a warm bath— the hot water of a whirlpool, the hot water of a hot spring near a volcano; it was pleasant, she thought again— it would be nice just to soak in that warmth— her fear was more like wonder now, or awe— she was not afraid to see what it would do now, she was excited.

But just at that moment, coming on suddenly, and having signaled in no way that it would happen— a stream of it reared itself up, and then reared back— it was defying the gravitational pull of the earth’s center, and it bonded its string together like winding, like it was spun. But it had moved itself, with an appearance of sentience.

It did not look like a stone anymore, this thing in Val’s hand. It just looked like a ball of black slime, with that one, swaying thread rising itself taller and taller, and it felt sticky against her hand. It reared back further, to the point that Val was sure it would have to change something or break off and fall to the floor; and it reared an inch back further, then like a catapult launched itself forward, breaking off the ball, becoming a ball itself flying through the air, aimed directly for Val’s face.

She cried out in surprise, but there was nothing else she could do to react. She was not quick enough to move her hands upwards to get between the ball and herself, to make them function as a shield.

She closed her eyes on reflex; at least she could protect eyeballs with eyelids, if nothing else— thought it had not been a conscious choice. While she’d deliberated on her inability to protect herself, her face had scrunched itself close in preparation.

It impacted. But when it hit against Val’s face, it did not hit stone hard. The meteor had become slime, malleable and wet; thinner than clay, wetter— thinner even than wet clay— against her face, the slime felt like sludge, thick, wet, warm like something she wanted to soak in. The thickness— the feeling of sludge— even mud, rolling along her skin should have turned her stomach. Val couldn’t understand why she wasn’t reacting in disgust. Where was her disgust impulse? Part of her was happy to be getting the chance to soak in the heat— it wasn’t so different than painting a mudmask on for exfoliating purposes, though maybe the slime was a little quicker. Something told her it was safe to open her eyes, so she shifted her eyelids apart, and looked down at the palm of her hand.

The slime that had not launched at her had apparently melted— it had run liquid out between her fingers, and poured onto the pants covering her lap; leaving only the trace of its coating against her empty palm to show it had ever been there.

Even what was smeared flat against her palm was changing as she looked at it— the color of it was shifting— it was going from that deep, unknowable black to a nightlike navy— all of it must have been changing its color— that which was spread on her face— it was one more amazing quality of this thing— it could change its physical makeup, it could change its physical appearance— what else could it change? What else could it do? It had been black in its solid form, but in its liquid, slime form, it was navy now— she marveled at that once again.

Val had been terrified when it had launched itself at her— it had been why she had cried out. There had been true violence in that launch. But that violence was in complete contrast to what the slime was now doing to her. It moved with gentleness, every slide a petting caress that made something in her want to stretch out like a cat, and allow herself to be petted. It had hidden its secrets, but it was revealing at least one to her now— the warmth hidden inside of it was not the furnace that would burn her bones as feared. It had hidden inside itself a pleasant warmth, as goodfeeling as the rest of the goo when it touched her; it coated her face now— distantly, she thought she felt it on the surface of her lap— had it burnt through and corroded her clothing off her body? Could it change its physical properties that quickly? To burn through one thing, and only coat another thing beneath it, only seconds later?

It was spreading itself like it had expanded itself— she felt it going over her face, she felt it covering her eyes. It was still spreading forward— running down; her shirt had been burned through to nothing. The goo was streaking down her cheeks. It was streaking down her chin like something she had spluttered out of her mouth— like she was spitting up blood— her mouth had been open, and she tasted it now on her tongue— it only tasted vaguely sweet— pleasant— she swallowed it down, and the second that it hit her stomach it filled her with euphoric feeling. It was more than euphoria. It felt like the kernel that might start an addiction; if she swallowed more of it, she would want more it— even having swallowed it once had improved the taste— now it seemed several degrees sweeter. Now it tasted several degrees better— she was craving it in a faint way— not a way that might distract her, or cause her any problem. But if she swallowed too much more of it…

She felt it running along her body again, everywhere— it was going to keep spreading itself downwards. That much was clear— and it was, too, going to keep sending its warmth inside of her it. It spread itself sideways as well as downwards. It ran outwards from each streak, filling the place it had not touched in descending done; it was covering her face entirely, painting in all the spots it had missed. It poured more copiously over her eyes, momentarily blinding her to everything but wet, thick, navy. Still it ran down as it ran aside— yes, it would keep spreading down, and it would keep spreading out, she thought in repetition— but her focus was distracted from that. Something else was happening now— it had saved one more secret of its nature until this moment, and it was only unfolding itself now.

The goo was not only spreading itself over her— once it had coated an area, it did not cease action. It was not painting itself over her just to sit on the surface of her skin. In the places where it sat, it seeped under skin— then once it was just to the other side of her skin’s surface, it drove itself into her. In those places, it was penetrating Val’s skin, pore for pore— digging, and driving in deep— a thousand, a million penetrations hard as they were soft, both at once, and warm, as many penetrations as she had pores of her skin. It stabbed in hard, then softened into diffusion once inside her body, but all that slime, once it was inside her, kept seeking more, seeking to go further. It was satisfied at no single inner point of her body. It seemed always to be driving itself further inwards; it was seeking out her center, thought Val— maybe it meant to completely overtake her central nervous system— but what could it do, if it did that? What was its aim? What other secrets of itself was it hiding? Still ran in, trying to find the core of her body— coming in from every surface her body had.

When the slime touched Val from the inside, it did something to her body that her mind couldn’t fathom. Val was only observing what was happening, at first. She was too surprised to be angry or upset, too curious. Even now, as it tried to get to the exact middle point of her entire body, she was not yet afraid. Still only watching— only shocked, only curious.

The slime was not only going into her to go into her— once it was inside, centered beneath wherever it had gone in, it felt like it twisted itself; yet even those places that stopped at points to twist sent little off shoots further inwards— it was stopping and twisting and sending further in— multiplying exponentially.

Wherever it twisted, once it had twisted, then the matter it had threaded through seemed different after the twisting. It made Val’s body, all parts of her body, feel different. She felt— felt stretchy, felt infirm, felt warm— Val realized, with the first start of horror, that it was making more of itself. It was making more of herself, she thought again, more afraid still. It was physically changing the properties of her body, like it had physically changed the properties of herself.

It had gotten completely through her skull— where it finished its transformations, there were no bones left; her teeth were gone; it mimicked what had been then before; she pulled her jaw down with two fingers, and ran fingertips of her other hand along inside her mouth. It felt like teeth there; but there was a shimmering feeling there, as if the goo might suddenly reform itself into another shape if that shape would be more convenient.

Her entire head had become the thing— her brain— did she have a brain anymore, or was her sentience spread through her form now? Even if the thing had transformed her brain, she still felt like herself— and the shock was passing. Another emotion was waking up now, and it was fear.

What was this thing? What was it going to do to her? Clearly, transform her into itself but then— what? She was half inhuman now, it was literally changing her humanity out of her, and suddenly, the thought miserabled her. She didn’t want to lose her humanity— she didn’t want to be whatever this strange thing was, that was not of earth. It was making her alien and she didn’t want to be— she didn’t want to lose her humanity, she thought again in terror— she feared the thing would not stop once she was fully transformed— it would want something else— she didn’t want to be part of whatever dark plan the thing would want to enact.

But she still had her sentience— she would not give it up to this thing, and it could physically change her entire body— still in that ghost of shock below the terror, she put a hand to her cheek to feel; all navy— it was smoother than skin, and it didn’t feel human anymore. It had solidified, it seemed, though it was softer than flesh, but when she pulled her hand away, she saw that her hand was streaked in more of the goop— it had taken her head, and now it poured down her neck; it ran to her collarbones.

It defied gravity, not beholden to the physical laws of the place it was visiting, instead following some older code of unknown place, running not just down but perfectly to the side— running to cover over her skin everywhere, and when it covered, it did what it had done first in her skull— it drove in, it changed her physical form; she was becoming that sentient goo in the form of the body she’d had before, but able to change again if she wanted— or if the goo wanted— it was still separate from her, from her own sentience.

She didn’t have any chance of fighting her invader physically— but she was still herself, within it, and she held to her own mindset with complete determination. She was Val— though physically she was now this goop-made thing, she told herself that her humanity was inside of her, and the thing could not take that humanity out of her. She told herself that the thing did not have the power to change her identity. It could change her body, it could change her physicality, but it never could actually change her psyche, it could not change something as ephemeral and abstract as her spirit, which might not be physically rooted in anything; it could not touch the abstract though physical means. It could not change who she really was inside.

It had spread to her breasts; once the goop had completely taken them, it expanded them obscenely.

It was still spreading down— but her breasts felt so good to her suddenly that she barely noticed that downward progress, over her stomach, down her back side; her clothes had all dissolved off her long moments since, she had been standing there naked all the time; her breasts were so huge now they were melon-sized or further— Val’s first impulse was to put her hands on them and start pleasuring herself by touching them repeatedly.

But no, she told herself. She would not obey— that impulse wasn’t hers— the goop— oh, the horror of it— somehow, it had melted that impulse into her— how had it been possible? All the comforts she had told herself were there disproved— it could touch the abstract, it could touch the ephemeral, it could get inside and change her mind— but she would not! She would not let it, she would not let it ever! She fought to keep her arms to the side of her body— another idea seeped into her mind. She was standing there, arms to her side, perfectly obedient, perfectly still, and in the process perfectly allowing the goop to spread down, over and throughout her. She was obeying in her attempt to disobey— standing perfectly stock still and being changed; that aroused her, but she felt the arousal only in her breasts— the goop had not gotten down into pleasure system yet, it could not give her arousal there.

But in her breasts, it was powerfully felt. Shaking heat that made her desperate to paw there— she wouldn’t— she wouldn’t—

The goop had taken her stomach— it had taken her back— now she felt it in her womb; it changed her like it had changed every other part of her body; it dissolved what had been there, made her only itself, solid goo; with nothing inside; everything gone, only leaving her changed form behind that mimicked what had been before— she was no longer human, she did not need human form— she did not need human function.

She pushed back. Yes, she was still human, inside, in her mind— in her identity—

But when the goop made its mimicry of her genitals, it was doing it wrong— it had formed an obscenely long cock, and balls beneath— it had expanded her ass, making her asshole gape; she was still in shock from the loss of her pussy— she reminded herself no part of her was real anymore, it was all just goop pretending itself into her form— she was clearly inhuman, because the cock between her legs was too thick for humanity, and too long— it came up to her abdomen as no person’s really could— now she could feel pleasure again, all through her lower body, and hanging low between her legs.

The pleasure changed her mind. She understood her purpose— she was going to be the mother of all the aliens that would be like her— her intelligence simplified, though a lot remained. She laughed, giggling often at the thought of evil.

Val stretched her new, sleek, navy body. She stretched things that were not really limbs and appendages— only slime, and more slime, faking the form— she had been afraid before, she had resented the loss of her own body, the loss of her humanity. But she was glad she was only now a mass of slime, forming itself as required.

The fear and the horror, the discomfort, the shock. All was forgotten. It felt good to be the goo now. She was the goo, and she was one with it, and it was one with her. It was a union she couldn’t understand, but it was a union that needed no understanding. The thing about it that mattered was how good it felt to be it— for it to be her. All that was still a mystery about it— about herself, about her changed state, all had become irrelevant. She simply didn’t care anymore— whether her consciousness was fused to the consciousness of the goo— or if the goo had erased her, swallowed her down, killed her into oblivion and now only operated on her body, using her as s vessel while her true mind was dead and unaware.

No, she would not care if it was only her using to think, thinking through her like inanimate thing it was animating itself— she didn’t care if it had discarded her to the side and made her empty scraps live. She might be gone from within herself, having lost the core that had once been her identity, which had once run though her. What had truly been her might now be forever unconscious, dead, and she would never know it was the case. And she didn’t care.

In fact, her defining feeling was gladness— she was glad the goo had her, glad she had become the goo. Her entire, indefinite body, her formless form formed into facsimile felt good through itself completely. Itself, herself— the two twined together, she could not distinguish one from the other, or find her consciousness as a thing that was separate from the Goo. Still uncaring— the goo was nothing but a million drops that had decided to hold itself together— but each drop was filled with ultimate pleasure— ultimate pleasure a million times over, on the point of a droplet.

It was like being a pointillism project; or a needlepointed fabric, where each point was an overwhelming orgasm— and there were a million points like that, points of goo, points making the complete canvas— points making the complete needlework. She shimmered with that erotic energy— shimmered in that ultimate orgasm, which neither started no ended, only shook, drop for drop— and filled her with an emotional, ecstatic joy, beyond what it was giving her physically— beyond what she was physically.

Val raised her hands to her breasts— her formed fingers clutched at them, stroked over them, and it increased the pleasure held in each drop exponentially; when this happened, she felt also, the dick which shot up from her legs— which came nearly as high as the base of her jug-like breasts— it hardened when she touched to her breasts. Her breasts were made of infinite pleasure— so too was her dick— pleasure compounding on pleasure, that was the only way her body react.

The goo was pleasure, when stimulated, became that much more pleasurable— pleasure would only feed only pleasure more ravenously, and eating of itself, would make more of itself and be still hungrier— Val never wanted to stop touching, never wanted to start doing a thing, any thing, unless it was an act of sex, something that would serve to arouse. She only wanted to fuck and be fucked now, forever— it was the only purpose she wished for now.

She felt the sensation of touch— the pleasure encouraged by it— reach to the furthest depth of her— on both the macro and the micro level. On the macro level, she felt the pleasure resonate where her womb used to be— the part of her that had went into the goo, perhaps acting out of old human habit. On the micro level, it was felt in each drop of her form, absolutely every drop she had, drop through drop though those drops had chosen to assemble themselves in a framework.

Val rubbed her breasts again— pleasure-filled drops rubbing against pleasure filled drops, pleasure rubbing on pleasure, alighting her entire body in flame; she rubbed, stroked, stroked harder, distending her breasts with her touch, they shifted so easily. They truly trembled. They were threatening to change shape as they shook; they could reform into any other form— or perhaps they would simply reform themselves into even large fullness, and increase their shape.

They were two huge beach-balls; but the goo could expand further, if it had a reason— it was not bound by human limitation.

Her dick, too, was large— on the same scale as her breasts. They were like two beach balls— her dick was like a long sword, the point again just shy of the underside of her cleavage, and almost as thick as a human arm— perhaps a well-muscled human arm, it was thicker still than a thin one— thicker than her own arm had been before, as she had never exercised herself previously.

She was thinking that her cock was so large that the perhaps the thing had been growing itself longer and thicker when she had not been looking. Or perhaps the pleasure she had felt had made it bigger. The increase of arousal in drops might have meant expanse in size. Val would not be surprised.

Now Val wanted to stroke at the thing that came up from between her hips— where her clit had once been, and was no longer— she wanted to stroke.

The balls beneath her cock felt tight already, but she couldn’t stop touching her navy breasts; they impressed and indented around stroking fingers, gripping kneads; she felt something powerful building inside of her, growing ravenously; she almost expected her cock to start spurting out— whatever this come would be… More of this same goo? That seemed to be how it reproduced itself— just by itself— but when her orgasm happened, nothing shot from her dick.

Instead, green goo shot in an arc back out of her ass— every network of her system was gone, every system that had once made up her human body— there was no waste system, there was no waste inside her— her ass was only cosmetic, the gape of her asshole the same— yet now it served a purpose in shooting its arc of green come out backwards. That green goo kept coming and coming out. It felt like that spurting would never end— and yet that spurting felt so amazing Val didn’t want the end of it to come around.

Val didn’t know it, but the green goo that had arced back out of her had made a copious pool behind her body at the end of its trajected arc— that goo had run down the floor, out from under the door, and finally arrived in the hallway— so much of it had culminated there, and was still trickling out under the closed door, through the open lip that was there.

It just so happened that, just several moments before, Lani had gotten back from that day’s excursion with Rowen. She had gotten back, and gotten up the stairs. And right at that moment, she was now walking through the hall.

And as Lani moved, she just happened to step in the green that had spread to cover the hall floor. She’d kicked her shoes off downstairs when she’d come in from their Danish environment. So now, with her shoes taken off and sitting on the shoe rack just inside the door, she stepped into the green goo completely barefoot, not having been watching her feet as she’d walked— not thinking she needed too.

So her first sign of anything of miss was a felt sparking of pleasantness inside the sole of her foot. It sparked first, and then burrowed up, getting into the meat the center of her foot— then kept going, into the meat of her leg. It moved flesh aside like opening windows, tunnels curtains— up— up— whatever that motion was, moving so fast.

Val startled when her mind caught up to what her body had experienced. She looked down, to see what had caused said experience. There was an immediate in resistance in her. Something was touching her— she had not giving permission to be touched, she did not want to be.

Still looking down, she saw finally what was caressing— corroding?— her body from behind its interior. It was green goo, that she’d stepped in. It might have smeared on the hall floor, but there was too great a volume of it. It swam within itself.

There was an odd feeling in her she wasn’t entirely sure was her own— the feeling that that inner burrowing was… that it was a nice feeling, and she wouldn’t mind having more of it.

She shook her head at herself. How could she want more of it?— she pushed back— she hadn’t wanted to be touched in the first place. Even now, she still didn’t wish to be touched— not by a strange unknown substance which had infiltrated her body, and was seemingly still trying to ascend it within.

Distantly she heard something like giggling— the sound of a woman’s giggle— coming from behind the door that was closed to her right— as if some idea was very enjoyable to the giggler, whoever it was that was laughing— it might have been infectious, but something in Lani told her not to laugh. She was not supposed to laugh— she was only supposed to— but then the thought gave out, and nothing else was revealed to her.

What was this thing in her, giving orders? On what authority did it give those orders? What right did it have? She didn’t care that somewhere in the background the same thing was telling her the goo inside was a nice feeling and she wanted more. The thing had offended her outright, and she committed herself to rebelling against it completely.

She looked down at the goo again, searching out her first clue on how to do that most effectively.

Val saw the green goo coating the base of her foot completely.

Her next reaction was complete confusion. Why was there a green puddle in the upstairs hallway? She looked to ceiling hoping to see a spot on it, revealing a leak— but there was no such spot; there seemed no origin for this substance making a mucky lake of the walkway here— it was a hazard; she should warn the others— but for the moment she could not seem to move her leg.

That thing inside her— it was responsible. It wasn’t just ordering her around anymore, it was taking direct control. It whispered something to her— how hot it was to be controled— Lani’s eyelids flickered for just a second—

Then she was certain. No, it was not hot to be controled— she didn’t want to be under this thing, this goo’s power. She wanted to get it out of her body but it was already in. She ripped her button-down shirt off, splitting buttons— they fell into the goo and dissolved— she scratched at her skin, trying to get what was inside of her out.

She was starting to be afraid.

The goo was behaving in a way that it should not be— it was not staying coated to the base of her foot— it was running upwards, exactly the opposite of what should be happening. It should not be possible for it to raise itself, since it had started on the ground; but it ran up the skin of her legs, and it dissolved her remaining clothes as it went.

That was enough for Lani to permit herself to fully feel her own feelings— there had been a starting of fear, but she gave herself over to it completely. A strange, unknown substance was acting counter to the natural laws of earth— and it wanted to cover her body.

She had tried to scratch out what was inside of her— in her chest, in her stomach, behind her ribs. Nothing had happened— she’d scratched ferociously but she hadn’t even bled! Did the thing that had control of her have so much that it could dictate when or if she bled? The thought chilled her further in terror.

Scratching the inside out hadn’t worked— but she had to stop it somehow, had to do something. Had to keep fighting it. She reached down, trying to brush it off her legs, or to at least to interrupt its ascent. All that happened when she tried to swipe it off was it smearing on her hands— then when it was on her hands, it started to spread from those new points in her palms that it had found. It shouldn’t be doing that! It shouldn’t be possible!

But something was happening in her brain— it was new— all other whispers of this thing had come from distant places in her body, but this was right in the center of her mind. It was the undeniable presence of a horny feeling. Her brain was getting turned on by the goo spreading in her— even now, when she let herself think for a moment of how the goo was running in her, how it was dripping— it spread that horniness through her brain. It was, for the moment, divorced from being felt in her body. As if parts of her had been taken offline temporarily as part of this thing’s dark design. She couldn’t feel the arousal between her legs, where it should have been felt— she felt it as a mental orgasm instead, mental pleasure only, but it was so extreme it seemed to blind her from thinking, from seeing.

Her brain was getting more of that mental pleasure— she managed to force some speech out herself— “What…? What’s happening? How…? Ugh…” The mental pleasure had just increased again.

She brushed it roughly aside, and re-emerged herself, though her vision seemed to split and show her double; she felt like the room was sweeping around her— she was thinking like herself, a center— holding all the mental pleasure to the edges of her mind around her— space enough for herself— for a moment of clarity—

Lani screamed her terror— she could not swipe the goop off— if she couldn’t remove it that way, then she needed to get her room, needed to get in the shower, and wash it off with water— but she had lost control of her legs. The thing, the goop, it still wouldn’t let her walk. The goo was forcing her to stand there, and let the stuff climb her. “Help me!” She screamed again— but when the goo got to her breasts a new thought came in her head— it seemed to raise from the places she was touched with the stuff, it was not her thought but a thought of the liquid slime.

It had thought other things into her, but this was the next in the series: it was hot to have the goo on her breasts— she wanted it there, it felt good, she wanted it— she should allow it to take her over. It was going to make her a mindless alien drone— wasn’t that hot— didn’t she want to be—

“NO!” Lani shouted, as loudly as her voice would allow her— but it had covered her entire body— on the outside, on the inside, it was everywhere. “No, please,” she begged— trying to cry but her tearducts had already been taken. “Please,” she said more quietly.

It happened quickly after that— the goo spreading and eating her flesh, turning it into itself— goo after goo, making her just another goop girl— subservient to Val, she understood, suddenly— it would make her completely obedient.

The mental pleasure was back, an overwhelming wave. There was more of it than there ever had been before. With its added presence, Lani felt dizzier— her vision fractured more, and she couldn’t even be sure what she was seeing. Her mind was becoming confused.

The pleasure was a labyrinth in her head that she was stumbling through— she couldn’t find anything, couldn’t trace any feeling back to any part of her body— couldn’t label or name— something else was happening to her brain— the mental pleasure was changing the properties of it— she didn’t know if the goo had gotten there, touched there yet, or if her brain was doing it alone— she didn’t know which one would have been hotter— she wished she did, she would focus only on that option— her brain was liquefying in her head. Melting— into the pleasure— and with the melting, her capacity for language went too— the confusion was forgetting, the mental pleasure couldn’t be described— she imagined her brain dribbling out her ears. It was the last thing she would ever imagine.

She was Val’s possession now, to be used however was convenient. She wanted Val. She wanted to give her praise and worship.

Rowen had been following in behind Lani not far removed. There had been some talk, when they’d both still been downstairs and coming in, that they both wanted to get changed into different outfits for that evening’s group hangout, so both had agreed they needed to go up to their bedroom to get changed— they’d changed around each other before, and Rowen didn’t even feel uncomfortable about it, though she knew Lani was attracted to women and liked having sex with them. She was always very respectful when they shared a changing space— she never even peeked.

When Rowen reached the hallway, a couple minutes after Lani, she stopped in her stride.

Lani was completely green. She had green skin, green— everything— even her hair was green.

Was ‘skin’ the right word for what covered Lani? There was something shiny about it— something shimmery, as if it was constantly shifting, imperceptibly, or on the brink of spilling over. She was— completely green! Rowen still couldn’t move past that, accept it, get over it. All the pigmentation of her body had changed. Every color on her had been made uniform to every other. That same, flat green; it was now the color of every part of Lani. There was no variation.

“Lani?” Rowen asked, uncertainly. “Are you okay?”

She didn’t know what to do besides ask that— Lani looked so strange, and she had no frame of reference for this kind of a bizarre experience— when Lani turned… maybe not from the sound of her name, but just the sound of a human voice, Rowen thought, when saw the flat green eyes that were in Lani’s head— there was no intelligence in them—

But when Lani turned, Rowen saw that her breasts were hugely big— and Lani had a cock now! That stopped Lani in shock again— a long, thick thing, thick as arm, twitching beneath the meeting of her two breasts, where they touched sides to each other.

Lani saw Rowen, but said nothing— she reacted quicker than Rowen could process. In one step she had bounded down the hallway, and grabbed Rowen.

When Lani’s hand touched the front of Rowen’s arm, the touch was literally elecriticity— there was something hot and sparking— and the heat went in through her skin— she felt it starting. There was a heat inside of Rowen now, and that frightened her, because she didn’t understand how it could be there. She tried to pull out of Lani’s grip, but Lani was inhumanly strong, and she couldn’t get her arm away.

Lani was dragging her— throwing her down on the ground and getting on top of her, straddling her thighs, her own naked green thighs shining like gems— the sight of Lani’s cock turned Rowen on. She couldn’t help it, she was a self-respecting straight girl— the sight of a nice, long, thick hard cock did it for her— and Lani had one of those now— the fact that it was too long, the fact that it was too thick, it couldn’t disperse Rowen’s feeling. The attraction had just happened, it couldn’t be argue with. She wanted that cock inside of her—

She shook her head. She didn’t understand where the horniness was coming from— but every time she looked at Lani, freestanding like that, it turned her on more, and she felt it that arousal— inside her brain, not her pussy— something told her her pussy didn’t matter any more— she’d get a good fucking, but she didn’t need to worry about her pussy— she wouldn’t have it for much longer.

What the hell did something like that mean? But she was distracted then, because Lani’s cock spurted something in her hole— the wrong hole! It wasn’t being spurted into her pussy— it was being spurted in her ass! Rowen flushed pink, but Lani didn’t seem to have any true awareness of what she was doing. Her eyes were dead; there was no life, no awareness in them. Dumb, dead, drone’s eyes— inhuman, inanimate eyes.

Whatever Lani had spurted, it had made Rowen’s ass running and wet, and now the tip of Lani’s cock was peering into the hole, stretching it out— Rowen screamed, and blushed again— she’d never been fucked there, she only ever liked taking it in her pussy, and only in the missionary position— this was a violation— but Lani seemed like a sex zombie now, only wanting to rut. There was no way to reach her, no way to get through to her, no way to convince her.

Lani was forcing her way in, and splitting Rowen open— somehow, when her ass tore to take more of Lani, her flesh didn’t bleed— there was only a cool feeling— and confusion in her mind. That was her pleasure center now, throbbing— like her clit had moved there— like her cunt had moved there— like she was coming between her ears, and some kind of lubrication was running out, as she felt the heat get everywhere inside of her— would she be like Lani now? Was that what this ass-fucking was going to make her?

Lani had fucked her way inside— Rowen’s mind was coming— and when it came— was it her— brainmatter, pouring out like arousal from her ears? Her last thought.

Val emerged from her room. All three of them went down to the living room; Rowen, once changed, had become golden-colored, though Lani had stayed that first green. The three of them fucked each other, Rowen’s tongue in Val’s empty ass, and Val’s cock inside Lani’s body. They waited for someone else to come home.

The first person to come in was Tessi— horrified by the bizarre scene, but not quick enough— Rowen and Lani pounced on her and pinned her down, started her changing where their hands touched her body to secure it, and Val forced her cock down Tessi’s gullet tearing at her throat from the inside, but Tessi’s body never broke. It only became the goo, which could contain that tearing. Tessi pleaded. Tessi begged. Tessi cried, Tessi fought. She didn’t want this to happen, wished it didn’t feel so good, tried to stop it, and pull herself free, pull away.

Tessi hated the position which she had ended up in, passionately; being pinned down by two people who had been her friends— she wished she could beg for sympathy from them— yet when she looked at them, their eyes were not human— there were no whites to their eyeballs anymore, that was the first clue; they were monochrome like the rest of their bodies— there was no sympathy in either glance when she searched for it— and there seemed too much strength in them.

She struggled against their hands— “Please,” she pleaded anyway, though she had seen nothing which could comfort her or make her believe that it would make any difference to beg so. “Please,” still she said again. They ignored her.

There was only a lecherous look in each eye— lust that wished to see lust acted out, lust that cared only about propagating itself. No, there was no sympathy there, but Tessi couldn’t stop herself from looking for it— these were her friends, she was supposed to be able to find comfort, find empathy in them— but there was no trace of who they had been— they were almost robotic, only even that term seemed incorrect, because they were so inherently organic, made of heat, made of wetness, that even imagining them to be mechanical grated, rang false. Tessi kept trying to look at her friends— kept trying to look at the ones holding her, because she did not want to look at Val, who was directly in front of her.

Val looked more lecherous than the other two— she looked evil; so evil— and she was giggling in a way that was distinctly evil, giggling hard at the way that Tessi was so helpless. To Tessi, this seemed distinctly cruel. Val seemed to know what was happening completely, unlike Lani and Rowen, and she seemed also in full support of it.

Tessi’s eyes, avoidant, denying eyes, couldn’t keep herself from looking between Val’s legs— the cock that shouldn’t have been there, had never been there before— and they all had cocks now, the ones who’d been changed, but somehow Val’s was the biggest of all— she seemed supreme over the others, not only in size, but definitely in size as well as in other things. That cock was poised between Tessi’s legs. She couldn’t mean to— it would never fit—

Val didn’t seem to care about that. Her cock was pushing into Tessi, and as it pushed inwards, somehow, by some strange power it possessed, it was literally shifting Tessi’s organs aside within her. It was cutting a tunnel through the center of her. “No, no!” Tessi pleaded. It hurt, but not as much as it should have— she’d been stabbed to tearing, had felt that cock shear through the back of her womb. Then the cock had kept coming on further, and further, it was pushing up, literally spearing her— but something was seeping off of it into the tunnel walls which it had carved within her.

“I’ll make your body fit me,” Val grunted, and she drove her cock harder, cutting up further— was it possible— had it just grown longer— had it just gone further? Tessi didn’t understand how any of it could be possible.

“Oh, please, PLEASE!!” Tessi shouted— but Val had fucked her, cut the center out of her so far she literally felt the elongated head of Val’s cock in the inside of her throat; at the roof of her mouth. She had fucked all the way through Tessi, and all of Tessi had moved around to accommodate her— had moved around— Val rocked in and out in thrusts, and she was in Tessi’s very mouth, fucking the roof of it, making her cockhead strike it— but what seeped off of Val was doing something to her— she had been cut up, but what had been shredded was now being changed. Flesh to goo— goo to more goo— Tessi hated it, though it felt pleasurable— felt like coming, coming.

She was trying to think. Trying to put words together in the same order, trying to place them, one after the other. Trying to remember how to plead... there was so much pressure in her brain, like all her pleasure had transferred there, and when Val fucked the roof of her mouth through her entire body, it was like she was hitting the bottom of Tessi’s brain. “Aghguhhah— " Tessi garbled— it was hard to even remember what words where, let alone what order they belonged in. She thought she had orgasmed— she forgot what an orgasm was— she came again, within her brain and not her body, and it was even harder to think. Something wet and sticky was escaping her ears. “Aghgahgahguh!” Tessi tried more insistently— but her mind was going to nothingness, bleeding out of her head— it had all melted away— and now Tessi couldn’t even remember how to vocalize. She didn’t know how to even make sounds with her voice anymore. Everything was gone.

This was the scene that Brigid walked in on: Tessi, lying in the center of the living room floor, being pinned down to it on either side by Lani and by Rowen; and Val, positioned at her hips, and aggressively thrusting into her with— was that a cock? But then what was in Tessi’s mouth? She kept moaning as something seemed to strike the roof of her mouth— her eyes had rolled back into her head— but the color of her body was wrong— shifting as Brigid watched her— she was turning— purple? How could that be possible?

Brigid didn’t know how to interpret what she was seeing— she couldn’t imagine how to do it at all; she had left a vacation home, she had left her friends. Everything had been in order, as it should have been when she’d gone out that morning. But now everything was as far from ordered as it was possible to be— Val had a cock, and she was navy— Lani was green, Rowen was golden— Tessi was more purple by the second— three sets of eyes were lifeless— Brigid could read the lifelessness in Tessi’s eyes even when they were rolled back into her head, and Lani and Rowen’s eyes were aimed forward, looking out, but there was no great awareness in them.

Val looked knowing, though— every now and then, between thrusts, she let out a giggle that was distinctly sinister— and still, though Brigid’s eyes had taken all this information in, and her mind had categorized it all, she still felt lost. She couldn’t help it— “What is this?” She asked, in a brittle voice that seemed on the brink of breaking into hysteria. Tessi didn’t look particularly distressed— didn’t even look like herself anymore, but Brigid still had an irrational urge to protect her.

What was there to protect when Tessi looked almost the same as her assailants? And yet, protecting her, extracting her from this situation would be the right thing to do, and Brigid always cared to do the right thing. None of them had looked at her when she had demanded an explanation, but that didn’t matter. She raced forward in running steps, and seized at Rowen with her hands— Rowen had been the one closest to her grip, she was the one Brigid reached first, and she grabbed her—her hands in Rowen’s shoulder, pulling back— but Rowen’s body didn’t even move. There was so restrained strength in her— and it was much grater than what little strength Brigid had herself— she had achieved nothing— and she felt a strange stinging in her hand.

She took it back from gripping her, and looked down at her hand to see drops of gold against it— the same color as Rowen’s naked body— she stared in disbelief at these gold traces— they felt like they were digging into her flesh, digging in to skin and muscle and bone, and still going— “What is this?” She repeated, screaming more hysterically than before.

Finally Rowen gave her her attention, the attention that Brigid had been seeking before. But now when those empty eyes turned onto Brigid, she shrinked in their gaze— Rowen was an unknown thing, an unpredictable thing, and that was terrifying, now.

Slowly, as if trying to escape a predator, Brigid took a step back— then another— carefully, cautiously walking backward and keeping her eyes on Rowen the while— holding her hands up, showing a gold splattered palm and a clean one in supplication— trying everything she could do to diffuse the situation, to appease Rowen however she could do it.

But Rowen was really looking at her— focused on her— she took a few quick steps to catch up to Brigid, and then she abruptly shoved Brigid to the ground, getting her onto her knees. Strong fingers grabbed Brigid’s cheek, infecting her with more of that spreading gold, and they manipulated at her jaw making Brigid open— open— open too far— and now that Rowen was standing up over her, Brigid really saw Rowen’s cock for the first time.

It was taller than her— much taller than her, and much thicker than any cock had a right to be. Like a smaller log— or a piece of firewood once the log has been split by axe— it came up high above Brigid’s head— it looked veiny, but like all of Rowen’s body, it shone and shimmered, and there was a constant shifting below Rowen’s surface that seemed ready at every moment to spill over— The cock was trembling, shaking— and Rowen had to use both her hands to push it down from where it was standing upright— the humongous tip of it resting against the top of Rowen’s abdomen— she pushed it until it jutted out and hung low between her legs, above huge balls that seemed almost half the size of Rowen’s head— at least a quarter size to it, for sure— she had already forced Brigid’s jaw open with her hand like Brigid was her puppet, pulled by certain strings— Rowen couldn’t mean— she couldn’t expect her to take that thing in— the head of it was bigger than her mouth.

It was seeping more of the gold— and Rowen was brushing it all over Brigid’s face— and the gold was painting Brigid’s face and getting inside her head— it unhinged her jaw— how could it be doing that? She was only more confused than before— was the confusion only hers, or was the goo making her that way? Her jaw had dropped too far, strung down by goo— and her teeth were gone out of her mouth— the tip of Rowen just fit— she started coaxing her cock in— but she was clearly dissatisfied.

She lowered herself to sitting on legs folded back under themselves, then under her— and forced Brigid to lie along the floor— her mouth open like the roast pig taking an apple— and in this preferred position, Rowen began to mindlessly thrust in and fuck, with complete abandon, spitroasting Brigid, pushing more and more of that gargantuan cock— in this position, Brigid was laid out so her entire body was in one long line— and with each deeper thrust, Rowen fucked farther into it— the back of her mouth, down her throat, the base of her esophagus and she kept going. Brigid’s brain simmered in pleasure— her eyes crossed— she could understand why Tessi had stopped fighting and just let her self be fucked.

Brigid was doing the same thing— she had been too weak to fight, but now she no longer wanted to. Her thoughts were all becoming more and more horny— whirling confusion of arousal— Brigid thought she saw herself turning orange— but then her mind went silent, and all her concentration was on the feeling of Rowen fucking her chest open her wide to continue moving her way through Brigid’s body.

It was at this time that Dylan and Matt entered the house. By coincidence, both Dylan and Brigid and Matt and Tessi had arrived home at the same time— their cars had pulled up in the drive, and they’d both gotten out, expressing happiness at seeing each other; then Tessi had gone inside first, Brigid a few minutes after— she’d dropped her phone somewhere in the car and she’d wanted to find it first before going in— but Dylan and Matt had hung around outside longest, because they’d started discussing their favorite sci-fi movies— they were on vacation, there had been no rush; if they wanted to waste ten or fifteen minutes standing in the drive, outside, under pleasant sun, they could do that— there was no timetable constraining them, or that they were beholden to.

But when they came in, all Dylan could think was that something had gone horribly wrong— all five of the women in their group were naked— including Dylan’s own fiancée— and not only were they naked— their bodies were changed, and not just in color but in shape, in form of themselves; all five of them were fucking together— Val was fucking Tessi; and Lani was lying to the side of them, grinding her body animalistically against them— and Rowen’s— Rowen was fucking his wife— who had turned completely orange.

When the door opened, Brigid looked up at Dylan— she had been in the process of getting fucked into the throat, and the cock that had moved inside her had been so huge it literally bulged her skin out and showed through it— but when she looked up, she opened her mouth too far, scooted back, and freed herself of the fucking she’d been taking.

Dylan watched a moment— then when he realized that Brigid was coming after him, he turned and tried to run— but Brigid had leaped from behind him, and as if she had had springs on her feet— a new strange power of her form? Brigid launched herself soaring through the air until she struck into Dylan’s body and knocked him to the ground. She was shredding his clothes off him— she was a monster! This was the kind of thing Dylan watched when he watched sci-fi, read when he read sci-fi; but it was the kind of thing he liked in fiction— he might go so far as to admit that he had on occasion fantasized scenarios like this; sexy female aliens, overcoming him, holding him down fucking him. It had been fun as fiction.

It had been fun as narrative, and as fantasy, but it was the kind of thing he found he didn’t like having in reality; he wished he had never enjoyed stories like this— he’d never thought he’d have to live in one— they were all ruined for him in retrospect.

Having caught her target, and torn him naked, Brigid was moving forward quickly with her goal. She had a cock too, now— he felt it against his ass, splitting and spreading his asscheeks far apart because the head of it was so big— so much bigger than his own, he was ashamed. This was ludicrous— he was human, and Brigid wasn’t, but his mind was in some kind of shock, and nothing was making sense— he felt manly shame, he was small, he was pathetic— he felt absurdly feminine— he was too weak, too soft, and he needed someone with a big, powerful cock like the one he felt against his ass; someone like that to take control of him. He needed a good fucking— he was small, pathetic between his own legs but already so hard— where had these feelings come from?

There was burning in his body— he realized with shock that Brigid’s body was smearing itself, orange and glopping, smearing itself onto him when she rutted against his ass, and the orange was getting into him— thinking these thoughts in his brain and it turned him on and made him squirm; he was horny, pathetic and weak— he needed to be fucked by someone strong— part of him pushed through this to feel humiliation, but even that humiliation fed to the rest of it.

This was his wife— his wife become a monster, his wife doing this to him— it was so embarrassing, it made him feel even smaller. Then Brigid was forcing her way and ripping his ass open, then fucking the whole. He didn’t bleed— he craned his head around to look, and when she’d torn him split, all that was coming out of him was more of the same goo she was spreading onto him— only it had changed color— it was silver— silver to her orange— would that be his color?

She had gotten inside— she had gotten in deep— she was knocking into something that seemed to make his mind explode— pleasure after pleasure, leaving only whiteness and nothing else. Dylan stared, and saw nothing.

What had happened between Dylan and Brigid had happened so quickly Matt hadn’t had time to react. He and Dylan had been standing side by side in one moment— the next, Dylan had tried to run, had been pounced and then fucked into the ground— now he was all silver, colored in the same way as all the rest were; his cock had grown, he could see when Brigid threw him on his back and fucked him in the ass face to face— but though it was monstrous, it was smaller than Brigid’s; only by a foot or a half-one— but it was still smaller.

Dylan was silver like the others were their own colors— that was how they’d gotten like this, Matt understood now— that substance that made them look as they did could spread from one to another, could infect— that was clearly what had happened— Matt had to make sure not to touch any of them. He had to quietly leave the room— none of them had noticed him yet— he could still get away—

But that was when Val looked up at him, and gave him an evil smile— this smile was followed by an evil giggle. Giggles were ridiculous, frivolous, mindless things— they should not have been able to hold such malice, but somehow Val seemed to be able to fit it in there. She left Tessi on the ground, and Lani took over fucking her— Matt couldn’t quite even feel jealous— was that purple thing there really even his fiancée anymore?— and Val was coming over to him.

Her cock was the biggest of all— she meant it for him— and the second she touched him, he would start changing— and Matt couldn’t let that happen. Like Dylan before him, Matt tried to run.

But Val threw herself after him. He tried to scramble away, she’d knocked him to the ground also— but she was faster, and stronger, and she pinned him down and licked him with a too-long tongue that felt a bit inhuman. She didn’t spread saliva over him— when she touched him in any way, she left ruby drops on him, Matt realized confusedly. Val was licking a coating on him, and it was changing him rapidly.

“I fucked your fiancée into an alien,” Val said, between licks, her tone lascivious. “She’ll never think again— look how dumb, how brainless she is now— that’s your future.”

Matt looked— Tessi was drooling purple drool onto the floor as her insides got pounded by Lani’s cock; it bulged up, visible through Tessi’s back— only a mindless animal rutting— Matt wished that hadn’t made his cock twinge in pleasure— to see Tessi finally enjoying sex— even in such a grotesque way.

Then Val was inside of him, even more quickly than Brigid had entered Dylan, and Matt’s hips moved with hers, going back, going back, taking her cock, and it was so long it speared him up the center, into where his heart had been but now was only goo— into the base of his throat— was it like this for Tessi? His mind dissolved after wondering.

Val discarded Matt when she was done with him— and she looked over her six new aliens. She was mother of them all, controler of them all, and she watched them all fucking each other benevolently, affectionately. Each one was sex-obsessed, a complete mutation from the humanity they had started out as— they had morphed around, their morphology had changed the more that they’d swallowed the goo down, taken it inside, touched it, covered themselves in it outwardly— it had changed them, and now each one of them was completely mindless. A mindless mutation of former humanity. They made sounds, but not language— letting simple words of sex, disembodied from all contest— and grunting, primal noises. They were like music to Val— better than music. There would be no music anymore, when the whole world was taken. Only sounds like this— experience like this.

Val had been the only to become a queen. And now she was a queen— a bimbo queen, an alien queen over all of them. For the rest of them, their brains had become goo, sticking, until it had become the same as the rest of the goo in them— just a solid center, nothing else to it— and where there brains had been, now there was a complete emptiness of thoughts— and none of them were able to speak any longer, either. Each one had only become a drone for mindless sex— a drone to Val’s queen— she would make the entire earth her hive— they would all be drones.

They had fought against her, but had lost in the end— everyone was mutated now, and the invasion could begin properly— the fighting, the losing, the moment each one had lost. It had all led to this. Val was happy; and she truly looked forward to the future.