The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Title: Limbo

Part: Chapter 04 — The Touch of Life and Death

Universe: Limbo

Keywords: viol, caution

Summary: Our hero meets a friendly gardener.

——OBLIGATORY PREAMBLE——

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real events that take place in the near future are completely coincidental. I swear to you, I’m totally not working on bringing about ArMEGAddon (that’s every apocalypse in history, all at once). For realsies. Pinky swear.

This is primarily a story that follows the ‘organic process’ stream of writing, which means it could end up containing kinks so kinky that there isn’t even a term for it—or it could be all snuggles ’n cuddles. That said, there are monsters, magic, masters, mistresses, and mind control involved, so related themes might pop up. If you think to yourself “This is about to turn into something I really, really don’t dig”, then feel free to skip ahead a few paragraphs (or skip to the end of the chapter).

This is a work-in-progress. I will update my preambles if/when I get a Limbo website up, but in the meantime, keep posted to my ASSTR for updates. Also, feel free to send questions, comments, suggestions, marriage proposals, death threats, fan mail, hate mail, or exclusive offers for penis enlargement and ‘f4k3_r0|e><e$’ to waxing.carnauba at gmail.com.

——END PREAMBLE. YOU CAN STOP SKIPPING NOW.——

Chapter 4 – Touch of Life and Death

“I’m a guardian of the lands from which that creature was taken,” the woman said, gesturing towards the box.

“I’m sorry,” I told her.

Nyx looked on silently.

“In my time, they called my land The Raven Stone, and my people called me the Sky Lady—but when I awoke, my people were no longer in my land, and the people who took their place simply call me Crow.” I could hear some resentment in the woman’s voice, but, knowing what I know of history, I couldn’t really blame her.

“The creature,” she continued, “has choked out the plants, and consumed all the animals. I had a vision that a champion and a spirit would destroy it once and for all, so that the spirit of the land could reclaim its rightful place.”

I nodded, then started at her expectantly. Nyx simply looked annoyed.

“I’ve seen what you have done—what you’ve been learning to do. You can stop this horrible creature.”

I continued to stare at her. “You have one that covers your entire land?” I asked.

She nodded.

“I can kill about half a twig in a box.”

Nyx laughed a most disheartening laugh. I could tell by Crow’s reaction that she heard it, too.

“I’m above such petty tasks,” Nyx told us, “but it sounds like good practice for my pet. I can’t simply do this for free, of course. If he kills your weed, you’ll owe us.”

Crow glanced nervously at me, then Nyx.

“This sample we have—we need it. It stays alive.”

Crow sighed and nodded. “That’s the least I can grant you.”

“You’re right,” Nyx said. “And it’s not the only. If we help you, you’ll be bound to us. Indentured. Owned. You said you’re a forest spirit—do you understand what ownership means?”

Crow’s heart sank. “I—yes. I do.”

Nyx stared at her expectantly.

“What would you want with her?” I asked Nyx, hoping to quell some of the obvious panic that was flooding over Crow.

Nyx looked to me when she answered. “I’ve seen her shapeshift, which means she has abilities of her own. I’m curious if you can learn any of them. And if nothing else, we’ll have a caretaker for the box.”

Crow seemed a bit more relaxed upon hearing this. “If it’s to see that the abomination is never released, then I accept your offer.”

Nyx nodded and reached out, touching the back of both of our hands.

I glanced over my shoulder, towards the girls’ room, and said, “If this thing’s a ways away, how are we—”

In a flash of darkness, I was someplace very, very different.

* * *

Where we landed was definitely not where I wanted to be. It was the living room of a bungalow that had been completely boarded up, but from between the boards, slender, dark tendrils reached through and blindly swung around.

“Can it hear?” I whispered over my shoulder to Nyx.

Upon hearing nothing, I turned to confirm my deepest fear—she was gone. Crow and I were alone.

“No,” Crow assured me. “It can feel, and some parts of it can see.”

“How the hell am I supposed to kill so much of it?”

Crow shrugged. “Same way you killed less of it, I’d imagine.”

I sighed and approached one of the thin, whipping limbs. When I touched it, it wrapped around my hand and squeezed tightly, the boards nailed to the window behind it starting to bow inwards, as though a great weight were pressing against it.

I gripped the tendril tightly and began to focus. The bowing immediately stopped, and the tendril unwrapped itself from my hand. I could see its length growing dry and brittle as I felt a sense of fullness in myself. My blood ran hot, my consciousness intensified, and I actually felt as though I’d just eaten a great meal—but, after a short while, my blood ran too hot. My mind started frantically over-working, and I felt as though I was going to burst with fullness.

When I tried to release the appendage, it simply snapped off at the window and flaked away from my hand. Those around it had also dried out, but I could see those on the far side of the house were still moist and lively, now flailing in anger.

“I don’t think that approach is going to work. Does it have a heart or something? A point of origin?”

Crow shrugged. “I don’t know about a heart, but it has a core. You’ll have do that again, though,” she said, pointing to the mass of angry tendrils. “The door is on that side there.”

“Huh.”

* * *

For nearly three hours, I literally sprinted around in circles, trying to tire myself out, to sweat out some of the life that I’d drawn out of the vines at the window, all to no avail, before Crow finally placed a gentle hand upon my shoulder, urging me to stop.

“Could you try it again? Just to see how much the running is doing?”

“I’m sorry. Of course.” I walked towards the doors with an outstretched hand, and—the vines actually retreated.

“Are you fucking kidding?” I said to myself. “That’s all I had to do?”

As though to answer my question, the doorknob twisted, the long-failed barricade pushing outward. As the door swung open, I could see two figures in dark red robes standing side by side, hoods draped over their faces. On the front of their garments was a circle with a rather elaborate pattern that I’d have sworn I’d seen before, but I wasn’t sure where.

I glanced to Crow, who gnashed her teeth and stared hatefully at the men.

After a few moments’ silence, I turned to Crow and asked, “Who are they?”

“You said the abomination was a weed. These are the gardeners.”

A few more moments of loaded silence. “What are we waiting for?”

“You’re supposed to be the damn champion,” Crow hissed. “I’m waiting for you.”

I tried to dig my way into the mens’ minds, but found them to be—for lack of a better word, empty.

“Hi,” I said. “I’m—uhh, I’m here to resolve an issue between you and, uhh, Crow, here.”

“You have delivered a mate,” the man on the left answered. While his mouth spoke, his brain stayed completely still. He was a marionette, and being in his headspace was freaking the hell out of me. “You have delivered food. You shall become a part of the Ancient One. He shall cover the Earth.”

Upon hearing ‘Ancient One’, I realized where I recognized the style of the pattern. It was a symbol from the Necronomicon. For a moment, I let my mind drift in disbelief to what I’d remembered of that book. How many Ancient Ones were there? Fifty? And does that mean there’s a fucking Cthulhu floating around somewhere?

“I don’t want to hurt you,” I warned the men. “I’m dangerous. And Crow here, she can—” I struggled to think of an intimidating way to say ‘turn into a bird about a tenth the size of a human.’ “She has powers.”

“The Ancient One hungers,” the man on the right growled as he lumbered forward, arms outstretched.

“Run,” I shouted as I sprinted towards the men at full speed, shoving them out of the way.

Crow followed in-toe as I tore through the doorway and into the street.

I have never claimed to be a strategist, and I would dare you to say you would do differently, but when I reached the street, I realized the error of my decision. I also realized why Nyx had called it a Death Net. It looked as though the entire world were draped with this creature, eyes sprouted on every thick, stationary stalk, staring at Crow and I. Dark tentacles darted out from every direction, wrapping around my arms and legs, keeping me upright and in-place. When I looked to my left, I could see the tentacles wrap around Crow’s arms and legs, her body contorting and crackling as it tried to change shape, the creature’s tight grip wrenching her painfully back into her human form.

The two hooded cultists emerged from the house, smiling as one approached Crow and the other stepped towards me.

“Prepare her,” the one closest to me shouted to his underling before turning to me. “You seem to have caused quite a blot in the Ancient One’s glorious coverage. It will take quite a few sacrifices to repair the damage you’ve done. But don’t worry—we’ll start with your little nymph.”

The second cultist knelt at Crow’s feet, over one of the creature’s vines and plunged his hand into the creature’s eye. When the cultist pulled his hand from the creature, it was covered in a thick, pinkish jelly he then used to draw a circle on her stomach. He continued making a symbol much like that embroidered on his robe before dropping his jelly-soaked hand to the lips of Crow’s nethers.

“Enough,” I shouted as I grabbed hold of the vines that bound my arms, drawing as much from them as I could.

These were thicker than those I’d grabbed inside the house, and took a little longer to crumble, but I’d already felt like I was going to burst, and pushing it to the point where I was free caused my head to throb violently. It felt as though my senses were heightened, but to the point where my brain couldn’t understand them. The world became pain and white noise, and by the time I’d regained my senses, more black appendages had found their way to my arms and legs.

I looked back to the first robed man, who looked like he was struggling to regain his composure. “You cannot hope to defeat the Ancient One, you foolish mortal.” He sounded like he was trying to assure himself.

The second didn’t even notice. He’d parted Crow’s pussy and, using the jelly as lubricant, had begun sliding two fingers into her. Then three. Then four. Every time he slipped a finger into Crow, she’d groan a little louder—and with a little more pleasure. By the time the cultist withdrew, Crow was flat-out moaning, hips involuntarily bucking at his retreating digits.

The second cultist once again dropped to his knees. “She’s ready, my lord,” he said before scampering back towards me.

I struggled harder as I watched what must have been almost a dozen long, thick, red-veined tentacles slither towards Crow. I tried to avert my eyes, but the first cultist snapped his fingers, and another vine wrapped itself around my forehead, forcing me to watch.

“You don’t want to miss this,” the cultist said as he began rubbing his crotch through his robe.

As one of the tentacles slowly snaked up Crow’s leg, I realized that its end was rounded, blunt, mushrooming slightly—it was like the head of a large cock, as large as a fist, and leaking more pinkish jelly from the tip.

The tentacle took one large swipe across Crow’s labia, smearing her sex with the thick aphrodisiac before pulling back and gently nuzzling up against her dripping wet hole. She moaned and squinted as its prehensile body wriggled back and forth, rubbing the monster cockhead against her sex, very slowly pressing the tip deeper. Before it had made any progress, a second began winding its way up her leg, writhing over the first, wrapping itself around her slender midriff, pressing her left tit towards the middle of her chest before twisting around the back of her head and smearing its jelly across her mouth. That was shortly followed by a third and fourth, the third coming to rest between her breasts, and the fourth sandwiching her right breast against it, dipping down to smear its love sauce across her nipples before coiling around her arm and coming to rest in her plam.

It took a moment of wondering why a procreation-driven creature would titty-fuck a victim, when I realized—it wouldn’t. Nyx had said this was a product of human ingenuity.

Crow was quickly overwhelmed by the aphrodisiac. She rocked her hips with the cock that was trying to force its way inside her pussy, helping it shove ever closer to full penetration. She gripped and stroked the cock in her hand as much as her bindings would allow, and her mouth parted to eagerly lap up the aphrodisiac precum from the cock that pressed against her face. The cock between her tits began to slide in and out in time with the pumping of her hand, and soon her own moans synched up with her movements.

From the corner of my eye, I could see that both cultists had approached the violated forest goddess, and were rubbing the pink jelly onto their cocks. Their pricks looked absolutely tiny next to the giant members that were violating Crow, but they didn’t seem to mind—or notice, really. Their eyes remained fixed on the cock at Crow’s labia, as its head had now nearly completely disappeared into her pussy.

When the mushroom popped through Crow’s opening, she leaned away from the cockhead at her mouth to scream in ecstasy. The movement of the tentacles suddenly became hurried and frantic, all of the cocks outside her body now squirting flecks of thick pink precum all over her body. Her moans grew as frantic and desperate as the cocks’ motions, her body jerking in violent orgasm as the Ancient One ceaselessly pounded at it. This continued for far longer than ought to have been possible, accumulating in one giant orgasm that was so hard that it caused Crow to lose control of her bladder, gushing piss and cum onto the thick vines below her. And as this happened, the tentacles came.

When I say this, I don’t mean the tentacles that were servicing her. I mean all of them. Up and down the street, as far as I could see, spurts of thick white liquid—surprisingly similar to human semen—began shooting into the air. The cock in Crow’s hand shuddered and fired itself over her head, laying thick ropes across her dark, beautiful hair. The one in her mouth pulled slightly back, Crow opening her mouth as it did so, tongue extended to catch as much of the thick liquid as possible, but most washing out of her mouth and dribbling down her chin. The cock at her tits continued to thrust, firing its payload onto the bottom of her jaw, the spray from the impact showering the cock, her tits, and even her stomach, still twitching from orgasm. The cock in her pussy simply drove itself in deep, the cum dripping down around the shaft as it overfilled her.

Then, a peculiar thing. The cockhead at her mouth dropped off the shaft, plopping to the ground, rolling to the feet of the still-masturbating cultists. The cockhead at her hand fell next, dangling from a tiny sinew for a moment before the shaft shook it loose and retreated. The one at her tits seemed to scrape it off. And the one at her crotch simply withdrew without it.

This is how it’s supposed to reproduce. But if it’s mated with her, that means it’s also about to consume her. I had to figure something out.

“The Ancient One has great power,” the first cultist said, half to the orgasm-delirious Crow, half to himself. “It takes that power and places it inside you, so that you might share its power. This is the benevolence of the Ancient One.”

I kicked myself for being so goddamn stupid. I focused on one hand, delivering a quick shock of pain to the creature, causing it to uncoil itself, and then I reached forward, barely able to grab the first priest’s hood to yank him back to me.

As the hood fell from his head, I got the first good look at him. He was an older man with gentle, kindly features—the sort of face you’d expect to see at the friendly neighborhood grocer’s, that would look more at-home with a warm smile than the lusty scowl he was now showing. His mind was empty—but the Death Net must have brainwashed him. He was most likely innocent.

I grabbed him by the forehead, doing my best to cover his face from my vision as I focused. The hand on his head burned with loss as the hand on the tentacle brimmed with gain. The vine squirmed and struggled as the man began to laugh. One moment, laughter, the next, screaming, the next—as though every single energy in his body had overloaded at the same time. It was an aneurism, if his entire form were one massive blood vessel. All the soft tissue in his body burst from him, and all that remained fused into a single, brittle mass, shattering beneath its own weight.

I looked to my bound arm. The vine was dead. As were the vines around it. It had taken the life of nearly two blocks of the stuff to pop the poor bastard.

I easily pulled myself loose, the hollow vine husks crunching with little pressure, and approached the second cultist. This one had a curious expression on his face—he looked like he wanted to be afraid, but was incapable of emotion. I approached as calmly as I could, unhooking the clasp on his robe and pulling it from him, draping it over my shoulder before grasping one of the vines that bound Crow with one hand, and the cultist’s now bare shoulder with the other.

Without the robe to slow any of it, the second cultist’s tissues went surprisingly far, misting the ground up to a dozen yards away.

I lowered Crow to the ground and draped the cultist’s robe over her naked form. I knew she was comfortable in her own body, but given her current state, it didn’t seem right to leave her in the street, naked and oozing.

I rose from Crow and looked around. All this town had were vines and cultists. I just hoped I didn’t run out of one before the other.

* * *

With the last cultist dead, and little enough of the Death Net remaining to simply take its life for myself, I returned to the boarded up bungalow to find Nyx standing over Crow, arms to her side, giving me a peculiar ‘I-told-you-so’ look.

“You fucking left us,” I growled. I was soaked head-to-toe in blood and innards, and, while physically more alert than ever, I was spiritually exhausted. Every single one of those men was blank. Which means every single one of them was, at some level, innocent.

“How did you do that?” Nyx asked. Her question seemed genuine. I suppose it never occurred to her to give life back. Certainly not to give it so violently.

“I failed her,” I said, hoping she wouldn’t make me do it again.

“She’s still alive.”

“I didn’t figure it out in time. There’s one inside of her.”

Nyx uncovered Crow, tossing the robe to me, then crouched over the passed-out spirit’s side. With one fluid motion, she extended her clawed hand, drove it into Crow’s snatch, and quickly pulled out with a mass of black fleshy substance. The cockhead had already begun to elongate, and six tiny nubs had already started to form new tentacles. Nyx held it out towards me and stared at it, her eyes flashing brightly as it burst into flames.

The last of the Death Net writhed in pain and, a moment later, it was completely incinerated.

“Collect the thrall,” Nyx ordered.

I once again covered Crow with the cloak, wrapping and lifting her in my arms. Nyx touched my hand, and, in the blink of an eye, we were once again in the living room, with Carrie and Nancy both looking at us with a look of grave concern. And given how Crow and I looked, I can’t say I blame them.