The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

XXXecil’s ‘Nymph(a)maniacs’

by: XXXecil

Part: 2 = The reaallllly big dicks....

I was.... awake? If I was awake now... it meant that I must have passed out! The second time that’s happened! An orgasm so intense that it caused me to loose consciousness! I was alone in my cozy, but small bunk. A very spartan decor to the room. Maps and strategy notes on the walls mostly. I felt moist all over and was wearing a bathrobe, but I seemed safe and secure back in my home base.

A small window behind me revealed the industrial yard where I currently made my dwelling. The whole site was Brownfield land, an old chemical factory shut down due to a nasty hazardous waste spill. The County had tried to get it up and running again, but the new budget from the State Capitol just didn’t allow the funding to continue cleanup. So the site was fenced off and in perpetual legal limbo. And it had everything I needed.

Another reminder of the stark reality of my chosen calling. I had pretty much given up my trust-fund for this grey, dank, rusty ruin outside the window. Sold, sacrificed and loaned away what could be a comfortable future to instead be some kind of modern-day Van Helsing hunter-slayer. Except the creatures I was after didn’t suck blood. And they didn’t look life European aristocrats with fangs. I guess if I tried to describe my current life; it does sound rather zany, cartoonish maybe. But I wasn’t afraid to give up my future for this, because if the Nympha weren’t stopped; no one would really have a future. Not for Jessie, not for me. I rose quickly and adjusted my bathrobe and....



And I felt rather moist...old clothes were gone.

And I didn’t remember anything.


Well, I sure didn’t hire a scrub-nurse.

That must mean that Jessie had changed me, bathed me after I’d cum all over myself—and it had been a record load. I wasn’t a doctor; but I was pretty sure that my current output was probably beyond the natural, biological limit for a man of any age! And getting worse! And Jessie.... without being asked...completely cleaned my naked, ejaculating body. I just... I didn’t know we had that kind of relationship! I’d been trying to keep things so professional with her! Not that it mattered; Jessie was a real woman, a decent woman. She wouldn’t be interested in some kind of sex-freak like I was becoming. Plus, I’d heard that to be honest, a lot of women just don’t enjoy the reeeeeeeaaally big dicks.

A small, efficiency mirror was in the wall of my room near the door. My proud, sharp chin, clean shaven head and dark skin gazed back at me from my reflection. Over the past seven months I’d gotten a little more muscular. I suspected there were a lot of women that might find me handsome, as I flexed my pectoral muscles. Of course, some of those women weren’t really women at all! There wasn’t much room in my life for a white-picket fence settled-down relationship, plus I was unsure at the full extent of Nympha infiltration. It’d be just my luck to fall head over heels for a girl who’s really a sperm-sucking alien!

Well, no time to sit idle in bed; time to get down to the Control Room. The condition with my dick made me feel like a dying man; and I’d have to accomplish whatever I could on borrowed time.

* * *

My uncle’s lucrative trust-fund money had been cashed in to build, in part—this telecommunications center here in the guts of the old Brownfield chem-plant. Of course, a lot of what I was doing was pretty illegal; but human laws barely concerned me. Screens monitored the status of hidden cameras and microphones placed—sometimes at great risk, in sensitive locations all throughout the County. I walked past a large display screen showing an electron-orbital computer reconstruction of the structure of the Bacillus thuringiensis toxin molecule. Graphic animation showed the three-part mesh of spheres floating towards a cell membrane, attaching to the surface, and actively pumping out the guts of the cell. Originally a biotech pesticide; but I’d found that it was actually my best weapon against the Nympha. There was a reason for that.

I was dressed in black leather pants and jacket, lots of pockets and insulation, not so much to carry anything right now, but to appear serious, and to hide my overwhelming penis. I passed a panel that contained equipment monitoring a series of my covert microphones. A small screen produced a waveform extrapolation of the sounds received, translated into a visible, digital series of waves, valleys, and peaks.

“Nnnnuhhhh... uhhh.... uhh.... uhhh... uhh...

That sound produced wavy, virbrating hills on the display.


Some sharp spikes.

“B-best I.... ever had.... unnnnnn....”

I recognized that voice as belonging to the County Sheriff; just as I suspected.

To my right side, there was a plastic enclosure about waist-level, containing several tomato plants on which bloated, green caterpillars were feeding, munching mindlessly on the leaves, and the occasional green tomato. Above them on another screen was a diagram of caterpillar anatomy. Seemingly unrelated; but in fact this was crucial.

That was when Jessie walked in. I could hear her soft footsteps behind me.

“Oh Jessie, did you—” My tongue caught in my throat, my penis throbbed. Jessie was dressed... casually. For her, that meant cut-off short-shorts and a scandalous white tank-top. The sort of tank-top that seemed to allow tenting from nipples underneath. Jessie’s figure was slender and fit, enough to be healthy... but not enough to look like an extreme athlete. Her boobs were busty and pleasant—yet not so huge as to cause traffic accidents, pleasing D-cup handfuls. But the total package was a seductive girl-next-door charm with a dash of wannabe glam-model. She seemed more..... marriageable. Porn stars and Nympha had appearances that made a man howl with lust, filling him (and me) with a groin-tingling urge to ravish and mount them somewhere private, but not take home to meet any family. But somehow, with Jessie—I truly wanted to mate with her; completely, in every sense.

My penis agreed. Like a rattlesnake lashing out at prey, my traitorous dick seemed to leap in my pants. Throbbing with erect potential. I quickly turned away to conceal my mighty manmeat. I couldn’t let Jessie see the volcanic arousal that yearned to impale her womanhood. And all this after the biggest spew of jizz in my life! My accursed libido seemed limitless. Mating urges tingled up my spine, and I had to willingly suppress a wave of fantasies. How I yearned to grab and caress this woman, to kiss my way from her pleasing boobs down to her taut abs, to vigorously, deliberately plant my manseed in her belly...

“What was that last part, Cecil?” she asked. Wha- I didn’t say any of that out loud, did I?

“Ehrr... turn on the telly—eh... television... monitors... to check surveillance.” I attempted. Without further ado, Jessie called up several video files from the main database.

“Ah... I recognize that room.... those offices...yeah—this is the conference room for WWSS-23, the County’s local radio and T.V. news outlet.”

“And if you look.... there!” Jessie pointed on the screen to a parcel laying unattended on the rectangular conference table. “That’s what WE sent them! All those videos and recordings of various Nympha activities and conversations!”

“But somehow, the station never seemed interested in any of the evidence we presented.” I complained. “And—ohh... something’s happening!” A balding, fortyish executive entered the conference room and the area of the camera.

“I’m just amazed you were able to sneak a camera system in here!” I remarked. Jessie was really something!

“I’m pretty slick, aren’t I?” she teased.

The next person to enter the conference chamber had to be one of the Enemy. Wavy curls of dark hair cascaded over a navy-blue business dress. Swells of creamy cleavage seemed to jut up forcefully from the opening at her neckline. Her face had a smooth, sculpted beauty of high cheekbones and fluttering eyelashes; with lips that looked to be painted on a porcelein doll.

“I did... wh-what you wanted....” The news executive stammered. “Killed the story... on the table here.... last evidence we have...”

“Excellent...” The Nympha purred. “It was good that you did that....”

“G-good....” The exec’s eyes fluttered, as if he was struggling to wake up.

Or as if he were under some sort of trance. The Nympha closed and sealed the door to the conference chamber—before fully revealing herself.

Her clothing, the navy-blue dress suit seemed to slither and unfold itself. The outfit unraveling in seconds to become thick lobes of material seemingly attached to the woman’s back. The slithering lobes changed colors, seemed to change textures.

As the change continued, a nearby printer beeped near me. I removed the fax, still keeping an eye on the screen. It was from one of my University contacts; I had tried to get in touch with a number of biology professors over recent months, both to try and convince other people of the threat, and also to see what their expertise could tell me about the aliens. Lately, I’d sent out numerous cell and tissue samples to scientists and professors who seemed helpful and curious. But the results I ended up with were largely the same. The Fax had given me a printed report of a DNA comparison between my samples, and all species currently on record. Once again; the only similarity was to an insect.

Insect? That had certainly thrown me for a loop the first time. More specifically; most of the biologists I contacted congratulated me for discovering a previously unknown species of moth.

What the Hell? These were living, breathing, hot-blooded, lusty, busty babes! And their machines and laboratories kept telling me I had sent them samples from a bug?

A mistake? Human error? Maybe some grad student had flubbed up something? Maybe once.... twice? But five times? Twelve times? Twelve different laboratories had been interested and able to run genetic and biochemical tests on the Nympha specimens I’d sent and all told me the same thing. A Bug.

Turns out, there was a logical reason why it seemed that way.

The woman I was watching on the view screen continued to transform her clothes. What had looked like a business dress had now split into what seemed to be formations of living tissue. Lobes widened and separated from each other, becoming discrete sections of color-shifting material bending away from the now nude body of the alien woman-creature. Once the objects had reached full extension, it became clearer what the viewer was seeing.

Wings. More specifically, butterfly wings. The pattern was clear. There was a larger, top pair, and a smaller bottom set. They were colorful, venous structures of scintillating purple and blue. In her true form, I could see scales of irridescent rainbow-colors along her wings and skin. I had already realized the truth; Nympha wings were incredibly flexible, able to change colors and textures and migrate across the body. They could simulate any potential clothing this way. I had seen that they could even make their wings invisible, to simulate bikinis, or appear naked. Her hair shone with glowing sparkles throughout the visible light spectrum. And her eyes of course, had that swirly, mesmerizing effect.

Unlike some sci-fi movie aliens, their true forms weren’t all tentacles and claws and horror—but rather heart-aching beauty. Another danger they posed; who wouldn’t want to give themselves over to a glowing goddess like this!? My penis certainly did. I had to tug on my pants to try and rein in the furious surges of my cock; so eager and willing to surrender my seed to this radiant demon, this monster of lust and wonder. Well, I just reminded myself that what they would do to the human race wouldn’t be so pretty!

The Nympha fluttered her wings at Exec man; he moaned with pleasure, his penis threatening to rip through his clothing. No doubt bombarded by a blast of intense pheromones. I had been studying; I knew that butterflies had special glands on their wings that secreted a sexual attractant—but that was for males to lure females. The Nympha seemed to possess scent glands that served a different purpose.

“You never got those tapes; you don’t know anything about aliens in this County. Whoever sent that evidence is a kook.” The sultry invader instructed.

“Whoever.... sent.... evidence.... is a kook.” Exec man drawled. Faintly colored mists wafted into his face. He breathed deeply, then smiled stupidly as his brain was rearranged for the alien’s benefit.

As I thought. I’d been studying some entomology lately, what with the results I was getting. Androconidia—the glands on wings that males used to attract females; but for Nympha the glands had become a delivery system for some neurotoxic mind-control chemical! I knew it had to be something like this; this was why my evidence was ignored. This was why those in power didn’t seem to notice anything amiss—they were brainwashed!

“And if you always follow instructions; I can fuck you.” She promised condescendingly.

“Always obey... please fuck...” Exec man moaned. The alien smiled knowingly, as she pushed him down onto the conference table.

His pants were torn asunder in moments and he seemed almost to weep with glee at the coming coitus with his alien sex-mistress.

Her breasts were the kind of forward-thrusting mamms that seemed to jut outwards towards a sex partner with deliberate eroticism. Nipples and aureolas seemed to point torpedo-like at her target, as if locking on for laser-guided seduction. And they seemed to be getting bigger.

“Drink,” Nympha cooed. And she did not have to explain. Exec man opened his mouth with an expression of beatific gratitude and clamped down on a thrusting nipple. Where once her boobs seemed just about an inch larger than overgrown grapefruits, now they seemed to swell yet larger, as if she was making her milk right then and there for her victim.

Between the time his lips first latched onto the right nipple, and before he had a chance to pucker his mouth four times, her boobs seemed to gain another inch. Next, her tits seemed to widen, sprouting into full frontal orbs of mouth-watering voluptuosity, as Exec man began fondling, kneading the left tit amidst gurgles of mind-bending pleasure.

Nympha grunted, and put her hand to the back of the man’s head, arching her spine with the pleasure of her mind-altering lactation. This occurred to me as another avenue of investigation. I had seen firsthand that any man fool enough to drink from a Nympha’s breast would belong to her—body and soul. But I didn’t really know why, on a scientific level. That could be something vital!

The alien slut hissed with pleasure, in the time it took for her partner to take ten sips, her mamms had gone from their former grapefruit size to footballs of womanflesh ripe and tight with white nectar.

Soon, Exec man’s libido took over, and he pulled his naked cock against his lover’s throbbing pussy.

“ be inside you... no matter what...” He grunted into her bosom as he thrust against her groin. “No matter... cost... price... do anything to fuck... anything to be inside you.... let me... let me release... must thrust, plant my seed... inside you! AAUUUUUUUHHH!!!”

“Always, my pet.” Nympha said with a chuckle. She pushed him down, and straddled his pelvis from above and thrust his hardened, angrily purple cock within her willing slit. She squealed with delight and ground herself upon his thrashing member. Languidly, the alien ran her hands up her jutting bosom and through her shimmering hair as her giant, blue-purple butterfly wings fluttered in celebration; no doubt spreading more mind-control chemicals further. The she-devil seemed to exult in her nudity, cackling she shook her chest and watched her delicious breasts shimy and jiggle in the air. It was as though she was rebelling against the human ideals of clothing and modesty. Her arms tucked up behind her head to thrust her breasts forward further she reveled in sexual liberation as her now-Soccerball sized boobs exulted in their naked freedom by unleashing tight streams of milk freely, as if daring someone to interfere with her lurid sexuality.

Her man certainly didn’t. His expression was more like being struck with lightning; electrified with mind-pickling pleasure that blasted away any hope of resistance or morality. He gave a grateful moan followed by a strangled gurgle as he began jetting his seed deeply into the cunt of his mistress. And I knew; I knew all too well what that man was feeling. I knew that the sensation of sliding his manstick into that wet, alien pussy was a delight never meant for the human nervous system. Yes, there would be the liquid silken embrace of her feminine depths as they squeezed and churned luridly about his raging cock. But more than that, it would feel to him as though liquid fingers were caressing his member from both inside and out. There was no other way to describe it; He was penetrating her; yet somehow the pleasure of her body assaulted every sense from within and without.

“I’ve seen enough from this camera. I paused for a moment, considering... evaluating. “But I still want to launch a mission against Waverly Estate... is our fifth camera still hidden?” Jessie smiled and punched in some keys.

“ Those sluts still haven’t found it yet! We’ve got the Waverly Mansion in living color!” Jessie said happily.

“Ultrasound microphones?”

“Up and running; and I’ve found ways to filter out the extra noise.”

“Niiiiiiiiice!!! That was impregnate!”

“Wh-what did you say?”

“Erhh... was great, Jessie. Great.” I caught a hint of a smile as my cheeks reddened. “Well.... let’s think about Waverly...” Maybe pacing around the room and thinking about logistical things will take my mind off how much I wanted to knock-up my partner.

“Chester Waverly is far and away the richest man in the County; politically-connected and influential with all the local media outlets; it was a foregone conclusion that he’d be the first one targeted by the Nympha once they made their first real push.”

“And they got him. No doubt about that.” Jessie added from the swivel chair she was sitting in. “Him and his twenty-year old son.” I nodded.

“Ol’ Chester was the quintessential dirty-old man; there was never any hope of him resisting a gang of supermodel sex-pots chasing him around begging to be fucked. But he’s getting older; and the scuttlebutt was that he had a bad heart.”

“But his son is young, healthy, and was an athlete. At his age, with his likely stamina, he’ll be able to spew out rivers of semen for decades!” Jessie added with a shiver.

“Just what the enemy needs to overrun the whole County! If we can’t take out that hive, none of our other raids will mean Jack.”

“Problem is; they’re breeding faster than we can grow enough BT to poison them all. Maybe we could soften them up a little...”

“But they’ll just lie low, or retaliate if we don’t wipe out the whole hive in the first go. Might be possible to fight our way to their victims; then abduct them.” I mused.

“If we do that; every cop in the tri-state area will be on our asses with every bit of forensics trickery available.” Jessie reminded me. We both mused silently for a moment.

“I should be able to afford more bioreactors... with the equipment we have here...I can expand our BT production. But I still want to get an idea how fast the bitches are multiplying, and what their rate of increase is.”

“Wireless streaming of Camera #5.... Waverly Mansion...” Jessie’s fingers danced over a built-in mouse pad and punched some keys. On the big screen where the TV station Exec had once been, an open window of a second story palatial mansion came into view...

The scene captured by my illegally placed zoom-cameras and ultrasonic microphones was a sample of every man’s dream—and mankind’s nightmare. I couldn’t adjust the camera enough to take in the whole scene; and all that was visible of the venerable Mr. Waverly was a formation of five cock-heads waving wildly in the warm breeze. The rest of his body was off camera and hidden by a wall. But just that was enough to let me know without a shadow of a doubt that his fate was sealed.

And... ooooh... I thought I caught a glimpse of part of a sixth cock. His multitude of penises were freakishly long, and could be repositioned easily; allowing his hive of lovers easy access. The room was filled with a shocking bevy of beauties to make the groin of even the most celibate priest ache with longing. If a scene like this had been on T.V. , any reasonable person would have to conclude that this was the backstage area of a beauty pageant. Feminine pulchritude lined up as if to register for some official event; but in fact they were queing up for their chance at the man they’d captured, and his cock(s). Other than the drone of constant whispering and twittering that was hard to separate, the room was filled with a throbbing beat of some pulse-pounding dive-bar or nightclub music, so I wasn’t learning much from hearing them at this range.

Here, in the comfort of the master bedroom; the only simulated clothing were scandalously slender string bikinis. Some of them shifting colors even as I watched. Many others had invisible wings and so appeared simply like nude human women of spectacular beauty. But there were others that dropped all pretense and unfurled their butterfly wings. All were preening, posturing, caressing their flawless figures, gazing at their victim-stud. Trying to tease and tantalize. I got the sense that, despite their vast numbers; each Nympha wanted to be acknowledged and lusted after in her own right.

Adding to the seductive effect of having thirty nubile, nude goddesses quite literally lining up in your bedroom to fuck you, those that had already fed for the moment apparently went on Stripper duty. The pulse-pounding music accompanied three raised stages and stripper poles. Apparently, the aliens really could fly. An athletic blond with a sharp nose had her leg hooked around a pole as she spun circuits around it; six feet in the air!

Another coffee-skinned alien slut simply waved the bulging cheeks of her Rapper’s Girlfriend Ass in the direction of her man. A raven-haired Nympha with a tall stature and jutting hips seemed to have lost herself in her own sexual fantasies, and was literally humping the stripper pole; I could actually see the juices from her nude, drenching cunt glistening against the metal. Any man in this room could not help but be stimulated no matter where he turned.

When Nympha gathered together in numbers as great as these, strange anomalies in their appearances became apparent. I estimated that this place was perhaps ten-times the population of the Yarborough Terrace hive. Lined up to fuck this man where six identical freckled red-heads. Height, weight, all the same. Even similar freckle patterns. All scintillatingly gorgeous, but like eerie carbon-copies of each other. Otherwise there was a diversity of apparent ethnicities and colors. Except for a few pairs of twins. Something else I didn’t understand; they clearly weren’t human; what gave them these appearances? What was going on inside their DNA? All any biologist could tell me was that they were a kind of unknown moth species.

A femine hand that belonged to someone out of my viewing area began waving. Ah, that was the signal for the next round of sex. Yes, I could see now that Waverly was indeed up to six penises. No help for him then. A black girl, four luscious blondes, and a blue-eyed asian leapt upon his multitudinous cocks. Though each penis was moist, and their pussies were already drenching, it still took at least three thrusts for each Nympha to impale herself on any given shaft. It seemed like... yes... hard to be sure, but each dick seemed to be about two-feet long. As the number of dicks increased, they each had to become longer to effectively service each female. And those females took them! Just one more indicator of their inhumanity; A Nympha had no problem screwing herself upon a two-foot dick! This sextet really seemed to enjoy it far more than the hottie who was banging the T.V. Exec. Bigger was better.

At this point I fully gave up on any hope of saving Waverly. My BT overdose could not help any man with more than four cocks. And I had tried! Really tried! Beyond four, the erotic pleasure becomes so consuming, that other areas of the brain begin to atrophy. From what I could tell from EEG’s of men rescued from my raids, the area of the brain controlling lust and pleasure would sort of cannibalize other brain regions. This meant that Waverly was now capable of transcendent orgasms on a level that no sane human being could hope to experience or comprehend—but on the flip side; he wouldn’t be able to remember his own children’s names or even tie his shoes. What good would it do to reduce his penis-count?

And what was he feeling? I had tasted.... something of the charms of the Nympha; but no one with more than four cocks could ever be sane again; to cross that threshold... into pleasure beyond human imagining.... no... can’t dwell on that. The pleasure is their weapon!

The blue-eyed asian shrieked; squeezed her honey-dew melon breasts as Waverly’s middle-right cock exploded within her. She quivered, gurgled and slipped off the prodigious dick to thrash blissfully upon the ground. The released penis spewed for but a moment before the next hungry mouth engulfed it, lips suckling eagerly; that none of the precious sperm-gift might go to waste.

Each shaft erupted in turn, and it rather resembled some perverse parody of a mechanical bull ride in a seedy dive—how long could she ride? Each Nympha clenched her cunt as she slipped off, to better contain the life-giving seed.

The Black girl hung on the longest; eyes glowing an unearthly green as she roared with ecstasy; consuming what was to her, the nectar of the gods.

After her, the delicate hand came up again, waving off the others amidst moans of disappointment. Their man had to be managed, husbanded.... if you will, to ensure that he survived to fuck for as long as possible. At this point, a brown-haired Asian that had not been visible before crossed into view. Her tits were vast, tight and engorged. It looked as though she possessed milk-filled watermelons strapped to her chest. She gave each an experimental squirt before she reached down and brought up Waverly’s head for his feeding. The camera angle allowed me to see just the tip of his face. His toothless gums latched onto a nipple, to suckle mindlessly. That was to be expected. Yes, a man Chester Waverly’s age might have some dental troubles; but I knew the real problem: His body had changed in several different ways to turn him into an optimized semen factory. In fact; his teeth had atrophied, just as his intellect had. He would never again eat solid food; as he had for months, he would continue to feed only on alien breastmilk. He had a metabolism with a mission: To continuously increase semen production as much as possible as long as possible. Teeth and brainpower were unnecessary. It was a disturbing pseudo-ecology. The aliens fed on his sperm, and he in turn fed only on their milk. A closed circle.

But then something new happened; the brown-haired Asian milk-tank stood up. Still grabbing Waverly’s face she forced him to eat out her ripe pussy. Hmm.... this seemed like more than simple cunnilingus; he seemed to be suckling on her pussy; savoring it... swallowing. The Nympha moaned and bucked her hips. It was like he needed her pussy; could there be some perverse nourishment here as well?

A cry went up from the haremhive, it looked like the lower left penis had ejaculated again unexpectedly, and hands and tongues scrambled to intercept the white river of life before it could be wasted.

I couldn’t take anymore... craving them... lusting.... and Jessie! My own enhanced dick throbbed yet more vigorously, and a volcanic tingle built in my groin. No! I must... discipline myself! I would not orgasm here and now! I couldn’t prevail, I couldn’t fight them if my own cock betrayed me! I would find a way to regain control over the treason of my body! I turned from the screen and stalked to the end of the room, breathing heavily.

And Jessie was there, her hand on my shoulder, comforting, warm. Arousing. My heart stammered in my chest. So soft... so female...why did she wear that outfit? Short-shorts, tank-top! Hrrrnnnnn..... My actions for that tense, close moment were not a matter of choice; my body knew what it wanted—all I could do was force myself to NOT hurl this woman to the ground and conquer her womb with my seething rod. But I needed her... needed to keep things professional.

“Is it... like before, Cecil... in the van after the Yarborough Raid?” She asked with genuine concern. Oh yes... but sex... it changed things... Jessie... she’s too valuable to fuck...”

“Did you say something?” Her eyebrows arched.

“Uhhm... bad luck... bad luck that we can’t save Waverly. Too many penises. His brain will have atrophied.”

“Yes, that’s true. Can I do anything to help you? Do you need me for.... anything?” Was there a suggestive undercurrent in her tone? Ohhhhh.... I had needs... but I dared not indulge them. I broke away from her comforting presence and returned to the central viewer.

“I was able to get a good count of the Master Bedroom, but it’s a big mansion, I need to see more before I can get an accurate idea of how much BT we’ll need to brew up. Switch to Camera #3.” Tap-tap-tap on a nearby keyboard.

“Camera #3... wireless streaming.... now!”