The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Onions?”

“Check.”

“Hymenoptera Braconidae?”

“Check.”

The parasitic wasps buzzed angrily in the jar with the perforated top that I kept them in for most missions.

“BT extract?”

“Check.”

Yes, the glass vials of bacillus thuringiensis bacterial toxin were fully loaded into cylindrical metal cannisters for easy delivery.

“Spray Gun?”

“Check.”

“Jammers?”

“Check.”

Probably unnecessary; but I always felt better knowing that my enemy couldn’t use cell phones to warn others of what was coming.

“That’s everything.”

“And you’re sure about the guns?”

I nodded.

“They’re not as effective as you’d think; and there’s too much trouble with the Police. There’s just no way I could explain myself if I got caught.” I reminded her. “They’re not put-together like us; bullets.... ehh.... not the best choice. but that’s just one more reminder not to sympathize with them.”

“And now it’s time.” she said to me, looking at the door to 103 Yarborough Terrace; my latest target.

Right at Dusk was the best time for the attack; the odds were best that the entire hive would have returned for feeding, but many of them would be weaker after a full days’ activity. If I did it later at night, the orgy would be in full swing, and the enemy would be faster and more cunning after some of them had a chance to feed. Too early in the day, and I’d miss maybe half of the targets, who would go underground, lie low, and just set up a new hive somewhere else.

But as I kicked in the front door with a running charge, I knew that the chances were good I’d find every one of the bitches together under one roof; and the great majority would be weak with hunger still.

At first blush, you would have thought it was a high-end brothel or escort service. The women were sleek and toned, with vivacious figures of voluptuous beauty that belonged in a Hooters restaurant, or perhaps a modeling runway. There were a variety of beauties; several ethnicities and hair-colors.

As I stormed through the door; they seemed to be separated by clothing—three girls in a corner wearing dominatrix leathers. Four more stood near a sofa wearing a selection of string bikinis and chatting in low voices, Two walking away from me down the hallway wearing scandalously-tight cocktail dresses, these were puzzling over why one of their cell phones wasn’t working. All of them slim and sultry paragons of flowing-haired femininity; each looking no older than perhaps twenty-five. But that was a lie. All of it was a lie.

I started out with the hymenoptera. The angry wasps buzzed frantically and aggressively around the room once I violently shattered their jar in the midst of the bikini-beauties. That would get them to panic; make it harder to organize a counterattack. But one of the spandex-dominatrixes was ready for me; and I saw the cloud of faint, purple mists blowing towards me. Not that it mattered; I was already wearing a rag strapped to my face loaded with onions. I was barely able to breathe; but her pheromones would be blunted to a tolerable level now that adrenaline was pumping through my system.

My spraying weapon was a modified version of a car-wash water nozzle, modified and adapted for my singular purpose. The BT-toxin doused the dominatrixes, causing them to screech with terror as I moved on to the center of the room. Most of the girls were fleeing from the wasps, but I was able to mist the entire sofa and living room with BT, and the shapely derriers of my fleeing enemies.

The next one to stand against me was a tall blond with sparkling blue eyes clad in a silver-glittering string bikini—but I could see strange folds and strands moving away from her clothing, and her eyes started to shift into a mesmerizing kaleidoscope of colors, meaning that she was about to reveal her true form; but I was ready.

Without hesitation I reached and grabbed a nipple on her bouncy D-cups and gave her sharp, abrupt nipple-twist. That shocked her enough to distract her, and allowed me to bring the nozzle to bear; soaking her from head to foot in the bacterial pesticide. Her screams of fear didn’t slow me as I continued into the house.

I heard another BT nozzle blasting, and new it to be Jessie. The Gorgeous brunette was my strong right hand, my trusted partner. She waited outside on guard; a few always tried to slip past me and escape; but Jessie made sure to douse them good; now it wouldn’t matter if they escaped.

I found two more in the kitchen, redheads nude except for frilly aprons which exhorted the reader to ‘Kiss the Cook’ as they carried bowls of stew freshly prepared.

Still eating solid food. That was a good sign.

No doubt the food was contaminated with their aphrodisiac breast milk. They can kiss the barrel of my weapon. Instead they screamed as the wasps attacked them, and my BT spray sprinkled them.

I came to a hallway going in two directions; I’d actually been in this house once... long ago... seemed like another lifetime ago. Some changes, but I knew the basic layout.

“Jessie, Bedroom check!” I shouted to my trusted companion. “I’ve got the basement!” Smooth as clockwork, we both rushed to our tasks. Coming up the stairs I found a bronze-skinned, naked porn-star—or so she looked. If she were human, I might have believed her to be hispanic; maybe Mexican. Someone with her looks probably should have been the pampered concubine of a billionaire drug-lord. But things were changing; unless I stopped them.

Her E-cup melons hung tantalizingly from her chest as she rose languidly to meet me. The juicy orbs bigger than my handspan dripped with sweat and tempting trails of lactation = and damnation, I knew. She tried the mesmerizing eyes trick; you know the one—where swirls of hypnotic color appear in her eyes, begging you to look closer... closer... until she had you... until nothing seemed to matter but the softness of her warm, inviting womanflesh. The silken delight of her tanned skin, the pillowy splendour of her boobs.

Stupid.

“With tits like those; what man is gonna look you in the eye?” I joked to the woman-like creature. I raised my nozzle to attack, but she was faster! A hand clutching a ripe boob squeezed; sending a jet of tempting milk right to my face.

Smart.

Now that Ms. Mexican Pornstar had lactated on me, specifically my onion mask, that gave them the advantage. It was a ‘damned if you do, damned if you don’t’ situation. Of course, any man that drank from her breasts would devolve into a mindless, rutting sex-fiend under her control, but removing my mask would eliminate my protection from her mating musks! Well, it was like choosing between certain death and a maybe-death. I had to act fast, there was really no option but to strip off my wet mask. In the split second before her next attack, I could already feel the blazing tingle running up my spine, the pounding behind my ears, and the stiffening of my pants. Very soon I would be painfully erect. The pornstar went for my cock. She lunged low, hands reaching for my zipper, mouth open. The pheromones she exuded from her moist cunt were already making me sluggish, overcoming the adrenaline in my blood.

If she got my pants off... if she got her kissable lips and her wet tongue around my penis.... it would be over.

But I’d been down this road before; and overcome worse odds. I dived; sliding backwards along the carpet as I fired the BT. She thrashed and growled. And I knew I had won.

This time.

But if I didn’t end this mission quick, I’D be the one needing rescue! Without my mask, I had no defense against the overwhelming sexual attractant wafting up from between their shapely thighs. That was their real weapon: The fact that my enemies resembled politician-destroying call-girl seductresses only served to lure men close... close enough for their sexual weapons to take effect.

And I was vulnerable.

End this fast! I prepared myself for the stairs, even as blood pounded in my ears. Kicking open the door to the stairwell, I threw in my back up wasp-cannister. I didn’t see a lightswitch, but heard the jar crash distantly. Hmm... the basement area was larger than I remembered; it might take a moment for the wasps to spread far enough to have the desired effect and...

There!

As I suspected, this was an established; breeding hive. I could tell that the three women ascending the stairs were hatchlings; none of them were over six-feet tall, yet each had breasts larger than her own head. Icy-blond nordic goddesses moaned hungrily at me. Their luscious skin still moist and glistening from the birthing. I could almost compare them to nineteen-year old Swedish supermodels obsessed with breast-enlargement surgery—except that no mere implant could produce such mammalian perfection. Each massive mammary swung and jiggled with bouncing perkiness, yet their size and proximity allowed for a mouth-watering cleavage even when nude. Young as they were, they couldn’t yet simulate clothing. All they knew was a psychopathic hunger for sperm.

Newborns like this had to be hidden from public view; they couldn’t flirt or seduce yet; only moan, lactate, and fuck. It would take several feedings before they could think and strategize; and I had just delivered up myself as the main course!

Below, at the base of the stairs was a green-eyed brunette with a swimmer’s figure and a stripper’s boobs. And she was pregnant. She grunted and rubbed her throbbing belly; young pulsing within her gravid body. I HAD to succeed; if a pregnant breeder escaped me; then the hive would bounce back from anything I might inflict.

I refused to let my resolve waver even as the wall of pheromones slammed into me. I sprayed, and sprayed the BT toxin. The enraged, parasitic wasps were circulating now, they should eventually neutralize anything I miss. My aim faltered as my cock surged with erect desire. There was a snapping sound within my pants.... damn! The elastic restraints I’d tied around myself had failed; my throbbing horse-dick was surging past my underwear, creating a massive tent.

Every bone in my body told me to strip naked and let nature take its course. My libido was like a great chain pulling upon me; rampant desire yanked at my will and resolve towards a soft prison of moistening pussies and milk-gorged breasts.

But I dared not let desire rule me!

So easy...it would be so easy to just slump down the stairs.... down into the frantic embrace of the ice-blond, teenage, supermodel nymphomaniacs... it would feel so good when they raped me for my sperm for the rest of the night. But it wouldn’t end there....

It would never end!

I wouldn’t be myself, wouldn’t be a man anymore If I gave in! I grunted; bit my lip to allow the pain to blot-out the waves of lusty pheromones wafting from each willing pussy. And sprayed. Always spraying my weapon. I couldn’t really aim it; my vision was blurry, my pulse was racing and my mind was consumed by fantastic erotic visions that could easily be more than fantasies! The basement was a concentrated hot-zone of mind-pickling sex-chemicals, but this staircase was the only way out; and I got them all. All of them; even the gravid brunette at the bottom. I roared and blasted them, even as my penis grew yet larger!

Soon, I had plastered my enemies with so much of the clear liquid toxin that I had to reload. I jumped back to close the basement door. Then I propped a nearby broom against the door from the other side, jamming it in such a way between wall and door that they would have to break the door to escape. That should give enough time for wasps and poison to work.

I saw Jessie heading back my way, shaking her spray-weapon.

“I’m out!”

My dick was still throbbing in my pants, and I fought the urge to drag her to the ground and ravish her trim body.

“Penis-count?” I asked instead.

“Three!” She bent her pinkie finger with her thumb.

Only three! That meant there was still hope! I tossed my partner a spare cannister loaded with BT, and headed for the bedroom. “Do a once-over!” I ordered; without really needing to. Jessie and I have been at this long enough that she knew to sweep the house, catching all the fallen with an extra BT dose, just in case some where faking, or had received a less than optimal dose.

But the house had seen some additions since I was last here; as a young kid. A new room had been added to the house, and I could see some architectural differences along the wall in front of me, and also in the new door in this hallway leading to the bedroom. I kicked in the new door.

The marble tiles and frothing jacuzzi were distractions to the room’s true purpose. Within the foamy, churning water was a busty brunette with violet eyes jiggling her own coconut-sized cleavage while tearing through a hot-pink, sheer tank-top that her breasts might seem to burst forwards in the direction of a small, tripod mounted camera. There was additional thrashing as though someone still underwater was caressing or massaging the violet-eyed babealicious wonder. Also, a delicious, nude blond with one blue eye and one green was laying outside the jacuzzi, on the tiled floor, spreading soapy foam over her naked private parts in order to tease and tittilate another camera off to the left. Her legs were remarkably sculpted and toned; a runner’s legs with childbearing hips, and a porno-stripper’s bountiful breasts each capable of holding a quart of milk. This was the media center. I saw a glass enclosure in the north wall with audio-video equipment. I sneered at the dripping, luscious women.

Media-centers could have a multitude of purposes; sometimes the tapes could be used as an additional source of pornographic revenue for the Hive. Sometimes the purpose was purely for the seduction and pleasure of one or more particular men. Some Hives exchanged tapes with each other; apparently the salacious video carried a special meaning within the obscene sub-culture of my feminine enemies. They smiled with seductive innuendo at the sight of a fit, muscled man like myself barging in on them, but their expressions faded to confusion when they saw my equipment and the intent in my dark eyes.

I grit my teeth to steel my resolve as I juiced them with the toxin. I tried to give an extra dose on account of the water. Hah! let them sell the tape now! The girls screamed in fear and tried to splash themselves off. But I had given them enough. I still needed to account for the house’s main bedroom.

But I almost stumbled on my way to the bedroom. Could it be... was my condition worsening? My dick was so huge, so hard that the pressure it created as it thrust from my pants changed the gait of my walk. I had to readjust my pants for a moment before entering the bedroom.

A black girl who should have been featured as a model on a B.E.T. hip-hop video grit her teeth and clutched at her cantaloupe-sized tits as she languished under the toxic effects of the BT toxin Jessie had dosed her with. A redhead with a plump ass was in the corner, hyperventilating and trying to steady herself against the wall. But I no longer need fear them.

On a cushioned mass of pillows was Jackson Reilly; an old friend from my childhood. We used to go ATV riding in the summer around the hills behind the local high school. Not my best-best friend, but an OK guy. And now, he was far, far more that any guy had a right to be.

His wiry brown hair and hook nose was still recognizable, but his body was even more lean and lanky than usual; and I attributed his pale pallor to the fact that he probably hadn’t been outside in a month. And the reason... was between his legs.

Jackson was entirely naked. Exploding outward from between his legs was an erect nest of baseball-bat cocks. Massive members far beyond the endurance or capacity of a human vagina thrust upwards in triplicate. A central dick of at least fifteen inches jutted proudly from the center, flanked by two more, marginally smaller members pointing diagonally. His balls were tight and hard, about the same size as a party-balloon. His body and being converted into mindless sperm-production for a parasitic alien race. Other than the pained grunts of the alien women, the loudest sounds where gibbering giggles of mindless delight that escaped Jackson’s smiling rictus. The muscles of his face looked permanently locked into a sort of disbelieving smile of unimaginable delight.

But I knew this abomination would doom us; all of us. I had resolved long ago to do anything and everything to fight this... this disease. Jackson would never again think, or work, or reason. Never again take his son on his knee to teach life-lessons. Never again would he go to work, to church, to vote. He was a mindless vessel overcome with lust; what remained of his brain was consumed only with the need to ejaculate for his gorgeous captors. My terrible, beautiful enemies.

The Nympha.

At least, he would never do any of these things without my help. Amazing as it was when I first encountered what the aliens do to their prey, Jackson’s case was not the worst I’d seen. You could pretty much tell how far gone a guy was by counting the number of dicks he’d sprouted. With only three, and no bigger than baseball bats, then there was still a chance!

First, I doused him with my spraygun; then I took a full BT cannister and forced the poor wretch to drink down the toxin. It would have a rare, peculiar effect on humans contaminated with Nympha DNA; the alien tissue would be unable to feed itself, die off, and then the normal human immune system would take over. So far; most guys I’d done this to would someday wake up as their old selves again; but with minor scarring and a major case of the munchies. The best part is that he’d end up with a dick no longer than a foot. Painful, confusing recovery; but he could still go back to being the man he was.... plus a few inches down below.

That was when a soft weight hit me from behind. My car-wash nozzle weapon went flying as I tumbled. I was turned around to face my attacker. She was a raven-haired wonder with dark eyes the color of midnight that seemed to drown the soul in passion and mystery. Her olive skin gave her some similarity to a woman of Middle-Eastern descent; but I knew her true origin was nothing Earthly.

“With enough sperm; I can yet survive!” The dark-eyed beauty tore through my cargo pants with a strength belying her slender build. My manshaft bounced free in the air; most of the elastic cords I’d used to tie myself down broken by the ardent demands of my alien-enhanced super cock. And I was effectively defenseless! Even if I had my spray-gun; I’d just dumped the last of the toxin onto and inside Jackson to try and reverse the alien transformation. I had given my spare to Jessie!

“N-no.... NO!” My cock! Luckily I still had only one, but the one I did have must be at least eleven inches! The thickness of my colossal rod easily matched that of a dinner sausage. I was still growing! Still growing! How could this be! I thought I was clean, pure, free from them!

“Well, well.... It looks like you’ve also been a naughty boy...” The Nympha teased; recognizing all too well the beginnings of alien contamination in my extra virility. She kneeled down on top of my legs, and again that unearthly strength in her body held me. Her knees were able to pin my legs to impede escape and indeed.... a part of me... a growing part of me did not want escape! The Nympha caressed her ample bosom with a sultry, stripper manuever that would have earned her big tips at a tittie bar. But she was interested in a different sort of reward. She seemed to be wearing bikini bottoms and a wet T-shirt with the print:

TITOPIA TRIPLE-X!

Some local strip joint. With a sensuous moan, she kneaded the ample, jutting flesh of her own bountiful breasts. Each scarcely-contained tit reminded me of an over-filled, rubber hot-water bottle; and I knew that the warm, liquid contents would do far more than relieve pain. Despite myself I was mesmerized as she squeezed and caressed each of her own moist boobs; while a porn-star would fake orgasmic enthusiasm; my lover-enemy seemed to truly enjoy fondling her own jiggling treasures. She was wet, and still dripping.... then—she must have been from the jacuzzi in the media center! I had missed one! stupid! stupid!

“I feel your struggles....” I probably wasn’t struggling enough. “I sense your fear, confusion and pain.” She licked her lips while bouncing each boob in a bouyant rhythm of seduction. “You’ve fought so loooong.... and harrrrrd.... against that which you fear. “You’ve done enough...” She purred. “Your struggles are over now; let the pleasures of my body be your reward, brave man! No more fighting, no more fear and hate. Just cum... all you have to do is cum!” And with that, her ruby-red lips inhaled my overwrought cock!

“NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!” I howled, in a last-ditch effort to not-enjoy the luxurious sensation of this alien fellatio. In a brief moment of consciousness, I worried that this Nymhpa might be correct; if she feasted on my sperm, could she recover from the poison dose enough to survive? To breed? Possibly. In all the confusion; there was no way to be sure that each Nympha got a full-strength dose of BT, what with all the running and screaming and lactating. That was why we always did a once-over to make sure. If this cock-sucker (literally) got just a glancing hit, her physiology might recover; the semen she craved would just make that easier.

In the end, it didn’t matter that I’d just killed or sterilized her entire hive, if she survived and had me to fuck; she could simply keep breeding. In three months with my dick, three months of my sperm blasting up into her hungering cunt, it would be like nothing had happened! New Nympha would replace the old...

And I would replace Jackson. I would never wear clothes again. I would never walk again, I would simply gurgle in pleasure as my forest of penises was fucked and sucked to feed a lusty, busty, alien brood. My brain too drugged with pheromones to think of anything beyond ejaculating within and upon supermodel sex-fiends. Oblivious and vegetative. Forever.

That was when Jessie appeared.

“Thought I missed one...” she grunted as she unleashed the last toxin cannister upon my dark-eyed, dick-sucking lover. I slipped free as she howled in dismay. It was done. Jessie plastered the alien whore with a full pint of the cell-disrupting poison.

“Let’s get you out of here!” Jessie hauled me to my feet; and I grabbed up the ruins of my pants and tried to maintain a shred of modesty as we fled; our work complete.

“Like... before.. I grunted; wait until we’re clear before calling the police... you... know the drill.” My dick felt like a volcano! Not only from the recent fellatio, but the lingering pheromones of a house full of Nympha was still effecting me, even though they were all falling comatose. My baggy cargo-pants were ripped but even still it was not easy to fit them around my rampant eleven-inches of throbbing dick!

Don’t think about my dick! Don’t think about what I’d like to do to them! I half-stumbled out of the house after gathering our equipment. Something else... think about anything else... Mission parameters; was there more we could do? More efficient ways to operate?

I had often debated whether or not to destroy the houses I raided. Just to make sure nothing lived. But the main reason we never did that was because I WANTED the authorities to discover what I was doing. The People, the Media, the Government should mobilize and take action against this insidious, sexy infiltration! So I figure that a run-down house filled with thirty comatose young women with the looks of beauty-pageant winners covered in pesticide and under attack by swarms of crazed wasps would make the news.

It did; in the beginning.

But the enemy had ways of covering up evidence, silencing whistleblowers. So the best strategy seems to be leaving more and more evidence. I’ve crossed state lines on my raids. How many comatose porn-stars covered in wasp-guts will it take before the F.B.I starts returning my calls? Of course, I could think of reasons why the feds and media can’t seem to pick up the story.

None of them good.

Grunting, gripping my torn pants to contain my explosive cock, I half-limped back towards our black van we used for most operations. It had windows only in the front, hiding much of our equipment.

But I had other problems now; my dick. The urges... growing stronger... balls... seemed to be heavy with sperm... it was taking longer and longer to go limp again. And I was getting hard with less provocation. It was as though I was being infected with Nympha DNA; just like their poor male stud-victims. And indeed; I wasn’t entirely virginal; that dark-eyed Nympha had been correct when she’d sensed my prior sexual hijinks. But it had been nearly a year since then! Since.... the last time.

Plus; there was all the BT-toxin! I practically bathed in the stuff! Not really; but I was exposed to quite a bit of it. I knew what it did to alien tissues! I had used it to reverse the hyper-virility in men seduced by the Nympha! How could I be suffering the same fate? How much time did I have? At this rate; I’d be able to pinch-hit with my dick by the end of the year! After that, would I devolve into an ejaculating sperm-machine? It can’t be! I don’t fuck them! I don’t! Not anymore....

But there was Jessie to help me; so gorgeous—we’d been fighting side-by-side for months against the aliens. Her face... figure... Her hair was a liquid cascade of midnight silk. Not the common, off-brown color—but a shade that seemed to shine like obsidian. Her eyes, cool green with encouraging overtones amidst a penetrating wisdom. Such kissable lips; If she hadn’t helped me neutralize so many Nympha, I’d almost think she was one of them....uunnnnggg.... she makes me ache... all over.... and.. and I..I

“RAAAAAAAAUAUUUUUHHH!” I had almost climbed into the driver seat when the building explosion at last erupted. My orgasm surged out of me like a river overflowing its banks—wasted into the baggy confines of my cargo-pants. Better there than the pussy of some scheming Nympha, though.

“I’ll drive, Cecil.” Jessie insisted as convulsions of pleasure wracked me. Best that way; this was just another facet of my ‘growing problem’. As my penis mysteriously increased in size; so too did my production. I was ejaculating more fiercely; releasing more and more sperm; and in less time than before. Just the same as if I was a poor sap fucking one of the aliens!

It only served to add a new urgency to my mission; find them—stop them, fight them! They weren’t overwhelmingly numerous yet; the pesticide would make it impossible for them to feed and breed; if they could be opposed now, in the early stage of the invasion; Earth could be protected.

Big If.

Big Cock.

And getting bigger all the time...