The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The missile flew low over the waves, but fortunately not low enough to avoid being tracked. It had been detected when it was launched from a submarine, and once its trajectory had been determined to be Washington DC, an interceptor had been launched. The explosion as the two collided was not as large as it might have been, and resulted in a heavy cloud that drifted in the wind towards shore. A Coast Guard response team was dispatched to recover what they could.

The cloud descended and drifted to obscure a fair-sized sailboat crewed by a family on vacation, and anchored off a sandy barrier island. As the cloud passed on, leaving the boat behind and slowly dispersing and seeming to almost sink into the ocean, it revealed the unconscious family, some scattered on the deck, some belowdeck, all unconscious wherever they were when the cloud had enveloped them.

The response team found the boat there, and observing their condition, sent a medic aboard. The medic also fell unconscious quickly while checking a man for life and vital signs, and a quarantine was called. A team in hazmat bio suits was sent in to move the unconscious people into shade, take blood samples for analyses, and set up IVs to keep them hydrated in the heat. To all appearances, they were all asleep but could not be roused, and all had low-grade fevers.

Twenty-four hours later, the family began to wake up, and a short time later, the medic woke also.

I opened my eyes and felt a major headache, like my brain was under pressure, and throbbing with pain. Some guy in a plastic suit out of a science fiction movie bent over me and asked “How are you feeling?”

“Ugh. Like hell,” I said.

“Are you in pain?”

“Terrible headache,” I said. “Thirsty. Got to piss like a racehorse!”

“Okay, we’ve got a urinal for you to use, do you need a hand standing up?”

I sat up, groaned, and looked around. I was on the deck in the cabin, and there were people in the bunks. My wife was in the bunk on my right and my oldest daughter on my left. My head swam with dizziness from just looking about like that. “Yeah,” I said. “I may fall over otherwise.”

He helped me to stand, and I unzipped my fly. Bracing myself against the upper bunk, which held my sleeping son, I took the urinal held out to me and filled it. I closed the lid and handed it to the guy in the weird suit, who took it and called to a woman clad in the same fashion. As he helped me to move forward to a chair, I thanked him and asked, “What happened?”

“First, what’s your name?”

“John Davidson”

“Birthdate?”

“November 15th, 1962.”

My wife began to stir, and the guy called the woman over to help her. “We’re not sure. You may have been exposed to something hazardous. What do you remember?”

“An explosion on the other side of the island. Something flew overhead and BLAM! and then... mist or something, I think? It gets fuzzy....”

“Well, a Coast Guard medic was sent in to check you over and he passed out too, so the area’s been quarantined. We’re going to run tests to see what you were exposed to. You said you’ve got a headache?”

“Yeah. Feels like my skull is in a vise!” I replied.

“My name is Jim, and that’s Sheila with your wife. We’ll be looking after you for a while.”

What do you say when... “Who are you with? The CDC or something?” I asked.

“USAMRIID.”

“Holy shit. The explosion was a biological weapon?”

“That’s what we’re here to find out,” he said. “Your fever has dropped back to normal, and your pupils are equal and reactive. You’ve got a small bump on the back of your head, probably incurred when you fell down.”

Where did the missile come from?” I asked.

“Unknown,” he said. “I can’t say anything more that that.”

Ah. Whatever answers they had were classified, I guessed. Heck, we were probably classified. Sheila brought my wife, Ann, forward to sit with me, collected the samples, and went up on deck. Ann apparently had a monster headache, too, but hadn’t fallen and hit her head.

“How are you, babe?” I asked.

“What the fuck is going on?” She asked.

“We may have been exposed to something dangerous. We’re under quarantine,” I told her.

“Are they going to lock us up?”

Jim shook his head. “Not at the moment,” he answered. “We’re just being careful and running some tests.”

“What was the explosion?” Ann asked, and I gave her the answers I’d gotten from Jim, who had gone back to check on the others.

“My back and boobs hurt, and they’re hot,” said Ann.

“They’ve always been hot!” I said, trying to lighten her anxiety. “Did you fall?”

“Smartass!” she snapped, but smiled as she did. “No, I never got out of my bunk. I was napping when the explosion happened.”

“Did you tell Sheila about your breasts?”

“No, I was focused on my headache.”

I opened the first aid kit and took out the aspirin and gave her three and took three for myself. I got two waters from the fridge and opened them, and we took our aspirin in silence. I heard my son stirring.

This scene replayed several more times as each of the family woke up. My son, Jack, my mother-in-law, Frieda, my oldest daughter, Pam, then my youngest, Daphne, and my nephew, Kevin. Everyone had terrible headaches, and as time passed, we noticed we were getting backaches, probably from being below deck all of the time—seating there is limited to mostly bunk space and a small galley.

Jim and Sheila helped each of us as we woke with an urgent need to pee, and took blood and urine samples, as well as cheek swabs and sweat swabs. I was worried about what was going to happen when we had to take a dump.

I was growing aware of a smell, a really wonderfully good smell, but it was mixed with something sour, nauseating almost.

“Hey, Jim, can we get up on deck? It’s getting close in here,” I said. It was. The cabin’s little solar air conditioner wasn’t designed to handle the heat of the day as well as all the bodies crammed in here. It had been okay in the morning, but as the day wore on the heat was turning the cabin into a sweatbox.

“Uh, wait a minute,” said Jim, and spoke with someone who wasn’t there in a low voice. “Yeah, okay. Do you have a tent or tarp or something to set up on the beach?”

“We have both,” I answered.

“You might want to set at least the tarp up to keep the sun off,” he said.

“Thanks.”

Jim and Sheila were now working in shifts, one of them always present in their biohazard suits.

The medic had awakened, finally, also complaining of a headache. His name was Jerry, he said. He’d arrived on a Coast Guard cutter, and been sent over when they saw Jack and I unconscious on the deck. He said he’d been wearing a surgical mask and gloves, and had been partway through examining me on the deck when he passed out. He had no idea what caused it.

Jerry, Jack and I set up the tarp on the sand, and set up the few camping supplies we had on board. As we were doing so, we couldn’t help but notice that Sheila and Jim had come in a submarine, and that there was a decontamination shower set up on the deck, as well as some other cubical arrangements that looked a bit scary. They obviously were not screwing around.

I discovered I’d found the source of the sour stench—it was Jerry. The funny thing was he seemed to be wrinkling his nose at us, too. I sniffed my son—sweaty, but no stench. I caught my son sniffing—he’d noticed, too. I whispered to him, “Do I smell okay?”

“Yeah, it’s him.”

“Thanks!”

Jerry asked, “Do you all eat anything unusual? What is your usual diet like?”

“We shrugged. “Burgers, fries, ham sandwiches yesterday, you know....”

“You seem to think I have a strange smell yes?” he asked.

“Well, um, yes, kind of like something sour.” Jack replied.

“I’m noticing the same thing from you,” he said. “We should tell the captain.”

As we went back aboard our boat, we found my mother-in-law on the deck. She said, “Kevin smells terrible! I think something’s wrong with him!” As we drew closer, she said, “Oh my God! You stink as well!”

“You aren’t a bouquet of roses yourself, Frieda,” I said. She was more pungent than Jerry.

“She smells good to me, Dad,” said Jack. He seemed to be sniffing her pretty thoroughly.

“Mm, Jack, you smell wonderful!” said Frieda. They were sniffing each other like the other smelled like a wonderful meal, or freshly-baked cookies or something.

Sheila and Ann came on deck, and we told her what we’d discovered, and she said that everyone below thought everyone else smelled okay but that Kevin smelled “amazingly wonderful” to everyone but Ann; for Ann, he smelled like skunk and open sewer, as did Jerry and I. Frieda moved to the opposite side of the boat from us, while Ann held her nose.

I stepped down into the cabin with Ann to be assaulted and enticed by scent. While my wife smelled like Jerry did, the girls smelled... excitingly good. If Kevin smelled, I couldn’t tell. Something was happening, because the scents were becoming stronger with each passing minute. I climbed out, and called down for everyone to come on deck.

I turned around to see Jerry throwing up over the side. I understood his nausea, because I had gone to kiss my wife, and gotten a noseful of sour milk and rotten eggs. We were going to need the open air very badly.

Sheila had apparently talked to Jim and someone else and reported what was happening, because Jim was there in his suit pretty quickly. They looked at each other with concern.

I told them, “We need to get ashore, or we’ll all be throwing up soon!”

“Okay, go!” said Captain Jim.

We went. He tried to organize us by scent groups, which was interesting. Jerry was in a group of one, but I couldn’t be near him, Frieda or my wife. Frieda couldn’t be near me or Jerry or Kevin. My wife couldn’t be near me, Jerry, or Kevin. The kids could be near everyone but Jerry, although Kevin couldn’t be near my wife or Frieda either. The people we could be near smelled wonderful, and I do mean wonderful.

The scents were different for everyone. The bad scents were described as open sewer, rotten eggs, and really awful sour milk. The good ones were fresh-baked cookies and bread, spices, great perfume, and something indefinable. Like heaven would smell. I said, like my wife’s skin did to me just yesterday.

The women were all complaining that their breasts were hurting and sore. Apparently, they were swollen as well, and bras had had to come off because of it.

Jim asked how Kevin was related, and I told him he was my sister’s son. “So, those with common genetics smell good, non-family, genetically speaking, smell bad?”

“Yeah... I think so,” I reaponded.

“You have definitely been exposed to some kind of biological agent,” said Jim.

“Someone wanted people in the capital to... what?”

“The capital?” pounced Captain Jim.

“Something explodes in the air near DC on the day the Presisent is giving a speech out in the open, you guys show up almost immediately looking for biological agents in biohazard suits and slap a quarantine on us first thing instead of transporting us to a hospital. What is the glaringly obvious conclusion?”

“Hmph,” said Jim.

“We don’t seem to be sick, really, but something wierd is happening. What have you found in all the samples you took?” I asked.

“We haven’t found anything that shouldn’t be there yet, but your chemistry is off. For all of you.” Jim admitted.

My wife suddenly grasped her breasts with a cry. The front of her shirt became wet, starting at the nipples.

“Oh, my God!” I cried out, because the stench was suddenly overwhelming. I staggered away upwind, retching. My son, however, turned to her and staggered toward her wrestling with his pants. He dropped his shorts and they fell down his legs and he stepped out of them as he continued. The women all watched him, and as he neared her, Ann dropped to her knees and swallowed his erection.

From twenty yards away, I watched my wife fellate my son. I was stunned. This was just... insane. My wife, his mother, wouldn’t do that! Ann was not like that! It simply wasn’t in her character! And my son was pulling his mother’s top off! What the fuck was that? Something was leaking out of her nipples, and he was getting it on his hands and licking it off! Neither of them would behave this way! Something was terribly, terribly wrong!

My eighteen year old daughter, Daphne, was storming her way to me, a look of shame and anger on her face. Pam was staggering back, away from the two of them, looking frightened. Frieda... holy shit, Frieda was squatting on the sand with her hand down her shorts, obviously fingering herself. She had been the closest to Ann, perhaps five yards away. Her shirt looked wet, too.

Jerry, who was downwind, was throwing up everything he had ever eaten. The poor bastard couldn’t even move away from the smell. Jim, after watching all these developments with shock, moved to help him.

Daphne got closer to me, and was growling with anger. “I can’t believe her! She... she....” Daphne was looking at me oddly, hungrily. “Daddy...?” I realized I was hard, very hard. My balls felt heavy and strange, and I realized they’d been feeling that way for a while but I’d been ignoring it.

I saw the spots bloom on her t-shirt where her hard nipples and breasts were straining against it. Then the smell, the delightful odor of all good and wonderful things reached into me and pulled me to her like in an old cartoon. My body moved to her—I, the thing I think of as “me”, was... it was like “I” was tranquilized, not using my willpower, just watching through my eyes. I felt Daphne grab my shorts and pull them down, and I fell backwards on my ass as she began sucking my cock with the most wonderful passion and sensations.

My hands pulled her shirt off and like my son’s had done, grabbed my daughter’s breasts and began rubbing the palms on her leaking nipples, trying to catch the dripping milk and bringing it to my mouth. The taste! Oh, it was the taste of sweet heaven, a wonderf flavor I had never tasted before but made every tastebud scream in ecstasy. My cock got even harder, and my balls began to work overtime.

I came long and hard into my daughter’s throat as she moaned and fingered herself. The orgasm was blindingly intense, and as it faded slowly, I realized I needed to fuck her. And I do mean fuck. It was a deeply animal, instinctual need to fuck, summoned from the deepest core of our species’ history.

I moved and my daughter went down on her back, her legs spread wide and she moaned in need. I tore her shorts off in an instant, they were in the way. I plunged my hardness into her sopping velvet wetness and began thrusting like an animal, a madman. I had to cum in her. She cried out in orgasm and clawed my back and ass, pulling me with surprising strength into her as deep as I could go.

I came again inside her, emptying my balls in ecstatic bliss, thrusting so hard into her, and I felt her pussy fiercely throb and grab at my cock in her own screaming orgasm. It lasted what felt like forever.

We came to ourselves afterwards. I found myself looking into my daughter’s eyes, and felt shame, and I saw that same shame in her eyes. We panted on the sand, and I pulled out of her. She still smelled good, very good, but the urgent drive had eased.

I heard Kevin and Pam going at it a few yards away, and looked to see Frieda riding Jack as my wife wept in shame a few feet away from them. Jerry was screaming and kicking at the sand on the far side, his fists clenched. I longed to go to my wife, to hug her, to hold her, but I knew I simply couldn’t. I could hold my daughter who was feeling terrible; I was, too.

“Baby, we couldn’t help it. This is something that has been done to us. All of us. Don’t think it is your fault because if isn’t!“

“Daddy... I... oh, God, Daddy, I liked it!“

“I know, Baby, I did, too. That drive is a part of all of us, and we’re hard-wired to like sex.”

“That’s not what I meant, Daddy, I mean I like it and I want more! I want to do that all the time! I want you in me now and later and always and any time! And oh, Daddy, my titties hurt! They’re too full!“

Milk was beginning to leak from her nipples again, and the scent was in my nose again, and before I knew it, I had leaned over and taken one of her nipples in my mouth, sucking pure sex drive fuel into my mouth and stomach and cock and balls. My cock was still slick from our combined fluids, and Daphne began stroking my cock as I sucked. I wanted more, more of everything! More milk, more sex, more sensation, and I was going to fuck her again any minute, as soon as her breasts were empty.

Again, it was like I was watching but powerless to stop. It was like there was someone immovable inside my body saying, “Me caveman, me fuck woman now!

I was aware, in a corner of my mind, of Ann screaming in orgasm again. Daphne pushed me back, again with surprising strength, and climbed on top of me and slid my cock home. God it was good! She slammed her pussy down on my pelvis like a jackhammer, just a bit slower. I watched her breasts bounce as she did, and it was just fucking right. So good, so right, so like it was supposed to be! Her pussy milked my cock like a farmer milks a cow, gripping and sliding in the oldest rhythm of all, her sweat dripping down on me, her sounds burning themselves into my brain—yes, so unds of mate, smell of mate, feel of mate, taste of mate, look of mate’s face in passion, movement of mate—all MATE. She threw her head back and screamed in triumph as she came, and I growled and yelled in answer, my cum summoned from me by her, her, HER!

I gave all to her, into her, I was hers and she was MINE! I was rigid with that giving, and then I fell back on the sand, exhausted, my brain simmering in our smell and feel. The world was Daphne and me, and it slowly revolved around us as we breathed each other in. She was lying atop me, and everywhere she touched me felt electrical, happy, and right. Her hard nipples against my chest, her warm velvet wetness embracing my cock, her warm skin pressed against me, her breath on my neck... so, so good!

We slowly began to come back to ourselves, with the sun beating down on us, dreadfully hot. It was quiet. Daphne got off of me, and I felt a stabbing sense of loss as we disconnected. I stood and looked around. Jim and Jerry seemed to be missing, while Kevin was atop Pam, who still had her legs wrapped around his back, and Ann and Frieda were atop Jack, Frieda and Ann propping each other up leaning against each other, Ann astride his cock and Frieda over his face. I wrinkled my nose as a stray gust of wind brought a whiff of their stench.

We pulled on our shorts, and Daphne and I moved down to the ocean, and washed off. Daphne’s wonderful scent did diminish a great deal as we did. I began looking for Jim and Jerry, and spotted Jim’s orange plastic-covered head over the top of a dune.

We walked over towards him, and noticed that the others had roused and were making their way to the ocean to do as we had done. As we topped the dune, I saw that Jim was looking down, and as we got closer, I saw he was looking at the body of Jerry.

As I got to Jim’s side, he said, “He went mad. He was literally tearing his hair out, and biting his hands. He charged me, screaming. I had to shoot him. He wouldn’t stop.”

“He didn’t have... someone to mate with. No family here.”

Jim looked at me. “You seem okay.”

“I... we had to... we had to... mate. Not just fuck, but mate,” I said.

“I saw some of that,” Jim acknowledged. “I got... sidetracked.”

“Should we bury him?”

“No, they’re bringing a special body bag. He is still contaminated, and probably infectious.”

“What’s that?” asked Daphne, who was avoiding looking at the body before us. I turned to look where she was looking, and walked over to the beach’s edge. Just below the high-tide line was something metallic. We walked over, and I saw the hammer and sickle of the USSR, a symbol I hadn’t seen in a very long time.

Jim cursed, and began urgently reporting to whoever was on the other end of his radio. When he was done, I saw a couple of more people in the biohazard suits making their way towards us, carrying an oblong container. I turned back to the curved metal fragment.

“Russia?” I asked Jim.

“We can’t be certain at this point,” he said. “The USSR covered a lot of territory, and when it collapsed a lot of things got lost or sold on the black market. We were lucky to make sure most of the nukes were recovered or accounted for. This... will take some research.”

The others had come for the body, and were moving to carefully transfer it into the container. I felt Daphne touch my shoulder. “Daddy?”

“Let’s go back,” I said.

She nodded, and slipped her arm in mine. As we walked, she looked up at me, “Mate, huh?”

“Didn’t you feel it?”

“Yeah,” she said. “I just wanted to hear you say so.”

“Baby... Daphne... you are my... mate. The one. No one else will do, ever again. I don’t know how to explain.”

“I know,” she said, cuddling against my side as we walked. It was pure cheesiness out of a bad, or maybe a really good, romantic movie.

“What the hell am I gonna tell your mother?”

“I don’t think you’ll need to tell her anything. I think she already knows. Jack has become the center of her world. Her problem is that she has to share him with Grandma. Or, maybe that’s not a problem, I don’t know. Jack may be the one with the problem!” she laughed.

I stopped, and gathered her into my arms. “God, you smell wonderful!”

She buried her face in my chest. “So do you.”

We made our way to the tarp, and watched as the team took the box of Jerry back, and returned for the wreckage.

Frieda and Ann stayed on the far side, for which I was grateful and they were wrapping themselves around Jack. Our daughters and Kevin and I stayed on the opposite side, though Daphne and Pam didn’t have any olfactory issues with anyone. The girls, however, glued themselves firmly to their respective “mates”.

It was actually a bit uncomfortable. The change was impossible to ignore, but there was a feeling like we expected the others to judge us for what they themselves were doing. My wife, who this morning I felt was deeply sexy, was not the slightest bit attractive to me now, even if my nose was left completely out of the equation. ‘My brain has been rewired,’ I thought. I conjured up visions and stories and anything that I had ever found erotic before, and there was not the least stirring of interest. It was a frightening realization. Only Daphne was sexy now, and even thinking her name made my cock twitch and my heart skip a beat.

I told the group what had happened to Jerry, and they nodded their understanding. I could see the horror in their eyes as they thought about it.

Then I told them about the other thing, the twisted, curved metal on the beach, a remnant of something from an empire lost to recent history.

“Maybe... maybe they’ll know of a cure!” Ann said, hope, worry and fear in her voice.

I shrugged. I was feeling sunburned, and the salt on my skin itched. I thought about the first aid kit and the sunburn gel it contained. Daphne needed water, and I was sure I did, too. ‘And the others’ was the afterthought.

I told the others I was going back to the boat to get some supplies, and Daphne moved with me to go with me. I saw two biohazard-suited figures approaching, and stopped to wait.

“Well, Captain Jim, what news?” I asked as they drew near.

“None that is good, I’m afraid,” he said. “It was an old Soviet weapon, but someone had tinkered with what it was carrying, and perhaps not well. They may not have fully understood the virus it contained. We think it had been designed to be used in Afghanistan during the long Soviet invasion there, to cause disruption and rifts between the various tribes and villages, making them unable to work together. Either they didn’t tinker well, or they did it incredibly well. It would have released its payload over Washington DC during the 4th of July Independence Day festivities where most of the crowd would be Conservative Republicans. Can you imagine the chaos when Conservative leadership couldn’t stand to be in the same room together? Or worse, if these same people with a very Conservative base, mostly Christian, began committing incest in the streets of the capital? Or if they took this very contagious virus home? Can you imagine how the very fabric of society would be changed, even destroyed?“

“I’m guessing there’s no cure.”

“No. If the Soviets had one, and the Russians aren’t even admitting that the original existed, not even informally and off the record, whatever was done to it has changed the virus. It is fortunate that it didn’t kill you outright, playing with these things is always incredibly chancy at best. Or, maybe not. We don’t know what other effects it might have over the long-term. The higher-ups are arguing about what to do with you. You cannot be allowed contact with any other humans.”

“Jesus! Are they going to stick us in some cell and forget about us, or kill us outright?”

“My commander is arguing to keep you isolated on a deserted island somewhere, far away from shipping channels and flight paths. There are a few of those that the military controls. He wants to keep you alive for study. Someone did it once, there may be more out there. We are still not sure who did this.”

Daphne gripped my hand. “Uh, Daddy....”

I caught the strengthening scent of her, and looked at her shirt. Tiny spots had appeared at her nipples.

“Jim, things are going to get interesting again,” I said, and had to adjust my shorts, “...very soon!” We heard the cries from the tarp, where Ann was tearing her clothes off, and Kevin and Pam were running from the other three.

Jim and Sheila backed away from us carefully and watchfully. Daphne pulled off her shirt and shorts and began tugging at mine. “We need aunscreen with a high SPF, Jim, as soon as possible!” I yelled as my clothes came off over slightly sunburned skin. That would get much worse soon, a part of me thought, a part that was getting more powerless with each passing second. My sex goddess wanted me.

Ann

I woke to find a strange woman in some kind of a spacesuit standing over me, a truly vicious headache, and an urgent need to pee. I was aware of these things very rapidly in that order. My boobs felt like someone had punched each one, too.

“What...!” I started to rise, alarmed.

“Careful!” said the woman, “you’ve been unconscious for a while.” I could see she was wearing green scrubs under the plastic.

“Can you please help me up and out to the side? I’ve got to pee very badly!” I told her.

“I’ve got a urinal here for you to use,” she said.

“Good thing, ’cause I don’t know if I can make it that far!” I said in a low voice. She gave me an oddly shaped plastic thing that fitted over the necessary spot and helped me to squat. I was amazed at how much I filled the little jug—it looked like it could hold a half gallon.

“Can you tell me your name?” she asked.

“Ann Davidson”

“Your birthdate?”

“January 3rd, 1971.”

“71?” she asked.

“Yes, 1971.” I confirmed, irritated.

“You look young for ”71,” she said.

“Oh. Thank you. Vitamin E.”

She nodded, and we went through the usual proof-you’re-not-crazy questions: the year, the name of the president, and so on. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been hit by a bus,” I said, “and damp.” I added, feeling my shirt. My boobs were hot, and ached, and were sweating up a storm.

“You just broke a fever,” she said. “My name is Sheila, by the way, and that’s Jim. Nice to meet you Ann! Sorry for the circumstances...”

“How long were we out?” I asked, my nose picking up the faint scent that something had been left out and gone bad in the galley or something, or maybe someone hadn’t made it to the head in time. Ugh! The boat wasn’t equipped with a washing machine or anything! I hoped no one had soiled the sheets!

“Who is with you?” Sheila asked.

I ran down the list for her, looking toward each bunk as I did. John was forward and talking to Jim, the other spacesuited person. “Who is that?” I asked, discovering someone I didn’t know.

“He was here unconscious when we got here,” Sheila said. “He’s a Coast Guard medic. He’s the reason we’re wearing the suits. He passed out checking your husband out.”

“Oh,” I said, beginning to get even more worried.

“Look, I’ve got to get these samples over to be analyzed. Let me help you forward to your husband.”

She did. John asked me how I was doing, and I asked him what was happening. He told me we were under quarantine. I had a vision of a small quarantine cell I’d seen in a movie. “Are they going to lock us up?” I asked, and the man, Jim, answered me reassuringly, then moved back to check on Jack, my son.

“I heard an explosion, what was it?” I asked my husband. He told me what he knew, which, given he had just awakened too, was more than I had expected? The Army bioterrorism and disease people? This was extremely serious! As I worried, I told him how I felt and how my boobs were hurting and hot.

I love my husband. He saw my worry and tried to make it less by playing off what I’d said and humorously flattering my breasts. I’m proud of my boobs, and he knew it. Three babies and my age, and they still looked good! And he appreciated them, too!

“Smartass!” I said, grinning at his attempt to lighten things up. “No, I never got out of my bunk. I was napping when the explosion happened.”

We chatted as he got me some aspirin and a water, both of which I needed desperately, and took some himself. We finished the waters in less than a minute.

Each of the kids and my Mom woke up, and Jim and Sheila did and said all the same things each time, then helped them forward where we gave them water and aspirin. Jack, who must have fallen into a cookie bakery when he passed out because he smelled of snickerdoodles and autumn afternoons, mentioned his back was hurting, and we all realized we had backaches. Well, we’d been laying down a long time and now were hunched over in the cabin any time we stood, so it wasn’t surprising.

The medic finally came forward, and introduced himself. Jerry, from New Bern, North Carolina, US Coast Guard. He asked about his ship, which had apparently been ordered out of the area when he was seen to pass out, and USAMRIID was called in.

The heat was getting pretty bad, and the cabin was getting, well, rank. There were marvelous scents, but also something, or multiple somethings, stank. We had a little solar/battery-powered air conditioner, but it was far too overworked with all of us down here.

John had definitely noticed as well. He asked Jim if we could get up on deck. Jim checked, and asked if we had a tent to set up on the beach. We did. The men went to set it up, and most of the stench left with them. Why did the men stink, so? Well, Jack didn’t, come to think of it—he smelled wonderful.

We started talking, the women, I mean. Kevin went up on deck and the smell left completely, thank goodness! With the men gone, we peeled out of our tops and got rid of our bras, all of our breasts were swollen and hot, like they had a localized fever there. They ached, and felt full and heavy. We did put our tops back on before Kevin came back down to tell us the tarp was up. Sheila followed him down.

Mother went up on deck when he came back down—she looked like she was going to lose the water she’d drunk. I felt pretty nauseous myself. The girls, though, sniffed at him like he was made of flowers or fresh-baked bread or cookies. I thought he smelled like an open sewer mixed with skunk. We compared notes. I apologized to Kevin—I do hope he didn’t take it too personally, but the girls leaving nose-prints on him no doubt soothed his ego, and he was certainly sniffing them right back.

We heard the men arrive and Sheila and I went up on deck and told them what we’d discovered. John went down with me to the cabin and sniffed. I was holding my nose because his odor was overpowering. He went to kiss me, and I saw him use pure willpower not to retch. We went back up to find Jim was there, and John explained that we had to get off the boat or we’d all be throwing up like Jerry, who was as far away from everyone as he could get.

We went ashore, and Jim sorted us into groups of who smelled bad to whom. John and Jim talked and decided that the genetics of family made the difference in scent. The more closely people were related, the better they smelled to you, or something like that.

The pressure in my boobs was getting really bad, and as Jack wound up in our group, I felt something I hadn’t felt in years—I felt my milk let down, and the front of my shirt got soaked. I guessed it was milk, as I really didn’t have time to check! Alparently that made the smell increase, because John ran farther away, heaving. Jack came close, and the smell of him was so intensely good... and sexy! Something happened in my mind. A part of me kind of watched as Jack came to me like a god striding across the sands, dropping his pants and stepping out of them as he strode, revealing his erect manhood. As he neared, my body just... acted. I dropped to my knees and took him into my mouth and throat.

I’ve never had the ability to deep-throat a guy before. I mean, I’ve given blowjobs before, but anything more than the head in my mouth made me gag, which kind of spoils the whole thing. This time, nope, straight down the throat and my tongue swirled around it as I moved my head. I heard gasps from my daughters and Mom, but I did not care at all—this was what was important. I had to have his cum!

I was peripherally aware that Daphne shrieked something like “You whore!” The center of the world was in my mouth, the smell of him the taste of him, the heat of him filling my mouth and throat. Even my fingers in my shorts bringing me closer and closer to orgasm were unimportant. I felt his hands on my leaking breasts, good, but unimportant. The swelling of his cock, that was important, that meant he was on the verge, and I slammed him deep in my throat and he came, his hands in my hair, pulling me to him, and a flavor of heaven I had never tasted before filled me, and pleasure spread from my belly outward, and I came so hard as it did. It rocked my being to the core.

I sucked it all down to the last drop, then I fell back from him, gazing up at him. I saw his face change, from pleasure to horror at what we had done. Tears came from my eyes, flowed down my cheeks in streams. I was horrified at what we had done too, but felt I felt despair at his horror.

My mother, who had been nearby pulled him down from behind, and mounted him in a single movement, the milk from her breasts spraying over him. He pulled her down and sucked at her nipple as I wept, sobbing at what we were doing, at the fear of losing him, and at the frightening need I felt for him. I had to have him in my pussy, in my womb, and often.

I watched as my mother fucked him, and came like a banshee. After a moment, she fell back, dazed and whimpering. Farther away, Daphne and John were fucking like animals, and in another direction Kevin and Pam were, too. What had happened to us?

Jack called to me, and I went to him. I bent over him and fed him my breast, and he nursed like he did as a baby. His cock was standing firm and proud, and I needed it in me so badly. I mounted him like my mother had as she drew closer, fingering herself. There was a smell to her, too, a smell out of my childhood, and she kissed me and I responded with passion and need. She straddled Jack’s face, and his hands went to her thighs, and his tongue reached up and bathed her clit, and the wonderful smell had another layer of marvelous added. I rode my son hard, my face in the crook of my mother’s neck supporting me as I lifted my pussy off slammed it down, over and over, clutching it with my muscles there. I realized we were all moving together in different ways, me up and down, mom forward and back, and Jack, oh God, Jack was moving perfectly right, the rhythm perfect and my heart and soul called for him to fill me, to fill a place in my being, my very soul, I didn’t know was empty, or even existed, until now. But I needed him inside it.

And then he was. It was like a hand in a glove, a tongue in a mouth, a cock in an empty pussy, love in a heart. As he came in me, I screamed like a valkyrie in triumph, like a woman fulfilled. The glow that had filled my stomach before filled my womb, the center of my being, but it was so much more: an explosion of sunlight and music and God inside me! My son completed me, my existence—I needed him inside me always and often. I clutched my mother and breathed in her scent and bent to suck from her nipple. She arched her back for me to reach it more easily, and then she came as I held her, grinding herself on Jack’s face, and screaming her own orgasm.

We were three, but we were one. We were One. Whatever had been before was gone, rewritten, minds, bodies and souls. We couldn’t be apart. All of this hit me like a revelation from the Divine, like it was a law of the Universe, like gravity.

I swooned. It wasn’t a faint, it wasn’t passing out, it was an honest-to-God swoon out of an old Romance. When I came out of it, I realized that my mother and I were actually propping each other up. Jack moved, and we got off of him with deep regret, but he needed to breathe. He rolled to one side, and spat.

“Sand...” he said as he spat some more, and Mom looked a bit guilty.

“Sorry!” she said, “I got it inside me after... I uh, fell... after...”

“You rode him like a cowgirl!” I said, and giggled. “Oh, shit, Mom, we’re going to do that with him for the rest if our lives, aren’t we?”

She nodded, and got up. “I’ve got to wash off, and try to wash this sand out,” she said. “Sand in the tender bits is really awful!”

Jack stood as well, and helped me off my knees. His cum was still magic inside me, warming and filling me wish such joy! I could have danced a ballet down to the surf.

As we washed ourselves in the ocean, the different wonderful scents diminished, and I felt parts of my mind come back. I looked around for John with a bit of guilt, but also knowing he would understand because he and Daphne were in the same situation. In fact, I felt a bit better realizing that they were, or at least I felt a bit less guilty. I felt I owed John something, but I no longer wanted or needed him.

I thought about Jack and my mother and I. There was a part of me, a large part of me, deep inside, that was certain the three of us had to be together from then on. We needed each other.

Where were John and Daphne? Pam and Kevin staggered down to the shore and began to bathe themselves, but John and Daphne were... well, there were footprints leading over a dune. I heard people coming out of the submarine and getting in their inflatable boat, and they were carrying some kind of long box. They moved over the dune, too, and I realized that Jerry, the medic and Jim were missing, too.

“Let’s get back to the tarp and out of the sun,” I said. We staked out a corner with a fair bit of shade, and waited a short time as the others found their way back. John had gotten a lot of sun and was turning a bit red, I noticed. The groups took separate sides and kind of shuffled about and looked embarrassed. The smell was not too bad after everyone had washed.

John told us what had happened to Jerry, and about the wreckage they’d found, as we watched the orange-clad team return with the box... the coffin, and then go back with another box and then return.

“What will we do now?” I asked. My husband seemed completely unattractive to me now. I wanted Jack, and Mom, and only them. I pictured Mark Harmon and Sam Elliott, two actors that I had thought were sex personified for more than a decade and had worn out many vibrator batteries fantasizing about, and... nothing. Only Jack... and Mom.

“Maybe they’ll have a cure!” I said. I really wasn’t sure how I felt about that, not at all.

John said he was going back to the boat for supplies, especially sunscreen and water, and Daphne followed him like she couldn’t be more than ten feet away from him. I understood how she felt.

“Mom, what are we going to do?” asked Pam. She and Kevin had their arms around each other, and her head was on his shoulder.

“I don’t know, not yet. I know what has to be. I don’t know if they’ll kill us and incinerate us, or put us in cells and study us. Maybe they’ll leave us here, but I doubt it. Too may people could stumble upon us and get infected. I wonder if they’ll burn the entire island to sterilize it. It’s not very big.”

Pam talked about how she felt about Kevin, now, and Jack talked about us. I didn’t say much. I was feeling the pressure in my boobs build back up. I saw Mom and Pam surreptitiously shift theirs, too, so I suspected what was coming.

It finallt did, and I tore my shirt off as my milk let down again and Kevin and Pam beat a hasty retreat. Our boobs and the boys’ balls seemed to be in overdrive, producing far more than they normally would, or could. The thought floated through my diminishing rational mind as I went on my back with my legs I the air, and my son’s cock came home to Mama, my mama’s pussy found my tongue, and somebpdy’s finger found my pleasure button.

Jim

I went through the decontamination process yet again with Sheila, and we reported to the commander. The folks at the base had identified the virus as an old Cold War biological weapon that had been spliced with some new DNA strands by someone who knew what they were doing. Someone had gotten some of the president’s DNA and designed a virus that would act quickly on he and his genetic family. Someone had wanted he and his daughter to fuck like animals on national television. Apparently, they didn’t care what happened to anyone else, or perhaps they thought it would affect anyone else.

Someone in the Pentagon wanted the whole island firebombed and sterilized and they wanted the Davidson family to be there when that happened. Others objected, and pointed out that such an action would wind up on the news. Reactions would be mixed, but many would condemn the military for attacking the people it was supposed to protect, even if they were infected with a dangerous virus. They should be contained, and humanely.

Lieutenant Colonel Sheila Abrams and I were asked our opinions of the family. “They are a nice Americam family rich enough to own a very nice sailboat,” I observed. ‘People like that have connections,’ was implied, and that registered on several faces.

“They haven’t lost their mental faculties, though they do seem to have to engage in sex frequently, and they appear to have imprinted on their partner or partners.” said Sheila.

“The father, John Davidson, figured out what was going on pretty quickly. He is very intelligent and quick-thinking.” I added.

“He’s a lawyer with Davidson, Browne, and Thompson,” said a man with the NSA. “He does have connections, some even in the NSA and FBI.”

“Oh, shit,” said the general in the Pentagon.

“Commander, a message was intercepted from the boat’s ship-to-shore line. He has informed his office that we have him and his family, and that they are under quarantine. He advised them that if they don’t hear from him regularly, they should push for investigations, and to be suspicious of any stories about their disappearance.” reported the Comms Officer

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” yelled General Pentagon.

“The island idea starting to sound better, General?” asked the commander.

“What do we have suitable for human habitation over the long term?” asked NSA.

There were several uncharted (publically, anyway) islands that would fill the bill. One had been used as a base monitoring the Soviets during the Cold War with facilities that had been mothballed for a decade. The Russians knew about it, of course, but if they wanted to investigate they’d deserve what they got.

The island could be “sold” as a retirement home to John Davidson, and special arrangements would have to be made to deliver supplies on a regular basis. This could also allow for medical monitoring of the family and study of the virus. If it got out or was used again, we would need a treatment very badly and very quickly, and preferably an immunization program.

The NSA had already planted news stories that the president and his family had “caught a cold” at his speech, but he was also very visibly not showing any of the symptoms that the Davidson family exhibited. The president, of course, knew nothing of what had happened. He was far too likely to say something indiscreet. This was classified as “need to know”, and he didn’t.

The plan was approved by the appropriate brass, and Lt. Col. Abrams and I were asked to discuss the plan with the family. I took a bottle of heavy-duty sunscreen and a can of Solarcaine with me when we went.

Once we landed, we walked to the tarp on the sand and waited as the family finished bathing in the sea again. Apparently that helped allow their groups to be closer to each other.

As John walked up with his daughter, I tossed the Solarcaine to him and he laughed with gratitude. He and Daphne sprayed each other; they were both a painful-looking red. I gave him the military grade sunscreen, and he thanked me sincerely.

‘Quick thinking, calling your office,” I said. “It settled an argument in high places.”

He grinned, and I saw his wife nod. Neither were fools. I told them the plans, and they understood. “I would make sure to stay in contact with your office and any other friends who could ensure your family’s safety,” I advised.

“Thank you, Colonel Abrams,” he said. “You and your daughter, Sheila here, should be very careful with this thing. But if you get exposed, you both know what the other will have to do. It will drive you insane, otherwise. And there will be a place you can go.”

Sheila was blushing crimson. I said, “We will be extremely careful, of course, as we are with all the bugs, but thank you. We hope to never have to take you up on your kind offer.“

“How did you know...?” asked my daughter.

He smiled, and cocked an eyebrow. “I keep up with things,” he said.

“Be careful, but find a cure,” he said. I’d like to get out in public again someday, take my daughter out for Italian, maybe see a show... you know.”

“We will,” I said. “And we’ll see you every so often, I suspect, to check up on you. After all, we’re the only father-daughter team in USAMRIID.”

He nodded. “Well, Jim, let us know when plans are finalized. In the meantime, I think we’ve got about an hour before ‘it’ happens again. Is there anything else I should know?“

“You’ve got about four more hours of sunlight, and high tide is about six hours away. We’ll get some sleeping bags and lights out here to you. That sand has got to be a bitch! You’regoing to be finding it in places you didn’tknow you had for weeks.”

My daughter punched my arm. “Sand is terrible. Don’t joke about that!”

I didn’t want to know how she knew that. Most people think of passion on the beach as the scene in “From Here to Eternity” without even considering the practical problems. I apologized, and pretended not to notice that there were a number of embarrassed and self-conscious-looking faces in the group.

I turned to make arrangements for a supply drop by air. When I turned back around, I saw that Daphne and Sheila were deep in discussion. It was a relaxed discussion, apparently, as Daphne was laughing like Sheila had told a joke. Sheila was turned away, so I couldn’t see her face. I mentally shrugged my shoulders and got back to business.

Plans were finalized for the boat to be towed to the island base, and preparations had already begun by a team for its rehabitation. The family would arrive to a fully stocked and operational home, complete with public communication capabilities so the family would not just “disappear”. There would also be a sealed compound where visiting medical teams would stay to research the virus. The evidence that this had been designed to specifically affect the president and his family had cleared a lot of red tape very quickly.

As we walked back to the zodiac to get back to the sub, I asked Sheila, “What were you talking to Daphne about?”

“Just girl stuff... you know. She’s only eighteen, and has been put in a position she doesn’t feel ready for. She’ll be fine, I think. She’s got her father’s sharp mind. Like me.” she grinned. “She wanted to know what it was like to work with my father. I told it was tough, but worth it all.”

“Hmm,” I said, starting the motor of the zodiac and turning it back to the sub.

17 years later

Two naked women lounged in chairs on a shaded deck overlooking a beach on a semi-tropical island. Nudism was the standard, here, for very practical purposes—clothing wore out extremely quickly when it had to be washed several times a day.

Lt. Col. Sheila Abrams, (retired) watched the children playing volleyball on the beach. She turned to Daphne and said, “Johnny’s getting better, I see.”

Daphne smiled with pride at her son. “Yes, and it won’t be long until Abigail can join them!”

“What are our dads up to today?”

Daphne took a long sip of her margarita, and said, “Rearranging the putting green to make it more challenging. Again.”

Sheila laughed, and her daughter Abigail came running up to say “Jimmy won’t let me play with him in his fort!”

“Well, honey, it is his fort. If he doesn’t want to play with you right now, you can find something else to do, maybe play with one of the other kids?“

Abigail made a pouty face, but nodded, and ran off to find someone else to play with or something else to do.

There were thirteen children on the island, including hers. Some of the older ones had to stop their play to find their mate and fuck, and the younger ones would likely join them when they got old enough to be affected.

Fortunately, there had been a partial cure, which had been hoped to be a full one when they had tried it. Those infected no longer found the odor of non-genetically related people offensive and the cycle of enforced mating had slowed to only a couple of times a day, but everyone remained infectious and quaratined, and still had to mate with their imprinted partner every seven or eight hours. All the other symptoms remained.

It was the mistake of thinking the partial cure completely successful that had led to Sheila and her father having to remain in quarantine. When Jack and his father could hug without throwing up, and then not having to mate with their partners within six hours, they thought they’d beaten it, and her father had taken off his suit. He had immediately passed out, and Sheila had made her choice. It had been her antiviral that had failed, after all.

Sheila had a secret. She had wanted to be here since they had discovered the Davidson family so long ago. She had designed the antiviral back at Fort Detrick to be only partially successful. She had what she was sure was a real cure in the freezer on the island, and she would use it when one of a mated pair died, so no one would go insane with the need.

I’m the meantime, she would thoroughly enjoy every aspect of her and her father’s enforced retirement and family life! After all, she now had everything she ever wanted.