The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The Waverly Estate was large enough for one of those extraneous lounges on the side of the house. A place to fill with Papasan furniture, an extra big-screen T.V., maybe a mini-bar or table for some late-night poker. The entire east wall was just glass sliding doors, making it easy for my illegal spy-camera network to get all the juicy details.

Waverly Junior was kneeling on a red velvet cushion, aggressively sodomizing a dark-haired latina with an impressive bubble-butt. She had dispensed with the illusion of clothing; and as the erect young man plowed her backdoor, she was desperately frigging her own cunt amidst yelps of delight. Her orange-black butterfly wings and mind-altering chemical mists created a colorful atmosphere for her own ravishing. No human woman could have withstood the massive weapon blasting into her hole at so frantic a pace.

“Take it, you alien bitch! Take it all!” Junior demanded to his stuffed lover. She snarled, her eyes glowed green for a moment.

“Deeper...” she ordered. “Show me what kind of man you are...” Junior roared, rising to the challenge.

Her human partner was a wiry, muscled youth with a platinum-blond crew cut and linebacker’s build. In addition, he was ravishing his prize with only one of four erect penises protruding in as many different directions. A long-legged Asian was slurping hungrily at his east penis, while a pregnant redhead had just slipped off his west cock, her grateful womb struggling to contain a massive load of cum. One dick pointed upwards, which Junior jerked off with his own hand, his other gripping and groping the boobs of the Nympha he thrust within.

This impressed me, but not in the way you might think. What was important was that this guy was salvageable. Four cocks was right at the limit, and he clearly retained a lot of cognition. Well, Junior had never been known as a brainiac certainly, but what little brainpower he did possess was probably still there, if he was able to form complete sentences while ravishing his harem. His father upstairs was only capable of piteous moans of mind-numbing pleasure.

The mood was a little different in this part of the house. The girls weren’t lining to take turns on Junior’s cock(s). Instead, eleven delicious hotties were sprawling around the room caressing their pussies and moaning passionetely. I recognized their behavior as that of a Nympha filled and fucked to complete satisfaction. The girls had to go semi-comatose to fully absorb their rewards. But what mattered was that four of them were heavily pregnant.

“Sperm... so ripe... eager.... I’m almost ready” A light-skinned black girl gurgled as she rubbed her gravid womb, quivering, throbbing with lively young. She looked past nine-months, and her hard-nippled breasts leaked milk-trails as if in preparation for her brood. Unlike the discomforts normal to a human woman, she seemed to gain a sensual gratification from the throbbing young jostling and kicking within her fertile body. An odd sight in a house like this; surely an irresponsible playboy like Junior wouldn’t keep around pregnant partygirls... but I knew the real score.

“Nearing the end of their lifecycle... I’ll be able to get a good count of the next generation.” I mused to myself. And even as I watched, her belly seemed to stretch somewhat larger!

But there were others in similar straights. A dark complexioned Indian-girl was similarly ripened, and her time had come. Flexing her yellow wings, the Nympha began to hover clumsily to the ceiling; awkward from the great bulk of her womb. But in moments she reached the ceiling, and clung to it. Her wings began to stretch, expand, unfold further—covering the girl’s body entirely, and a strange film seemed to cover the colorful mass.

A cocoon. The wing-covered mass seemed to swell and bulge, pulsating with new and changing life. Then, a shimmer of rainbow colors, and the entire mass seemed to fade from view. Perfect invisibility. Made sense in a way; for insects. A cocoon is vulnerable, you need either mimicry or camoflauge to survive. No better camo than bending light around itself. How else would you hide something this size? Similar invisible cocoons could be set up almost anywhere, in public even! Most people don’t look up, and if it’s invisible anyway...

Being invisible, I also couldn’t be sure whether there were other cocoons. Usually one hour was all it took, One hour.

But for now, I didn’t have to wait that long; because another Cocoon had already been growing near a corner of the lounge. A different Nympha began to emerge from her Chrysalis; I think. Still a lot I wasn’t sure of. At first, it seemed as though there was a glowing crack hanging in mid-air. Then there was a rush of colors and light, and a strange waving ripple in the air. Only then did the white and gold empty cocoon become visible again.

And that was it; Did the flash of light mean something? It must—I had to assume that somehow, what I saw every time one of them completed a metamorphosis had to be the adult. But there was so little to see. Of course, these aliens can render themselves partially invisible—maybe the adult forms where invisible?

But in the end, it meant that all these luscious, lovely ladies were just.... just... caterpillars. The immature form of an alien species. And our Earth was their Garden. Men and sex where their greenery to be consumed. But whatever really happened with the adults; the new being would of course, leave behind its young. And there they emerged from the white-gold cocoon. Another generation of frantic, sex-starved porn-goddesses. Three this time; Two blondes and a brunette. Eyes crazed; breasts large and throbbing, skin gleaming with juices. The Newborns seemed even hornier, even bustier. It looked as though their wings wouldn’t come in yet, not until a few feedings. Like the three I’d encountered during the Yarborough mission; they knew nothing except the yearning for cocks and cum. And here was a man who would not resist them.

Caterpillars.... in a sense. But if it was male semen you were after, a pudgy green worm wouldn’t do the job; you needed mimicry. You needed D-cups and a figure that wouldn’t quit. That’s what it was all about.

The pregnant redhead was replaced at the west penis by the brunette; ultimately all the current girls gave way to their younger, newer sisters; who looked like nothing so much as teenage beauty-pageant winners obsessed with breast-enlargement who had just been defeated at Oil-wrestling. Thrusting, jerking, humping and yearning, the orgy entered an aggressive new stage.

I knew that sometimes; baby animals could actually be more dangerous; for venomous snakes, it was true. The immature poisonous snake lacked the experience and discipline to regulate the use of its venom; and it would inject everything it had the first time it bit something. The same was undoubtedly true here—as the nude, nubile nymph(a)maniacs impaled their pussies with the surging lengths of man-sausage erupting from Junior, I knew they’d be giving him a maximum dose of alien virility venom. The younger Waverly seemed to have a predilection for forcefully mounting a woman from behind, and I could see the glistening newsluts throbbing, squeezing the mighty shafts in their drenching wombs as they crouched on all fours, quivering, pulsating their ass-cheeks as their bodies embraced his violating fuck-shafts. I had little doubt that by later tonight; if one measured him, his dicks would get just a little longer; his libido just a bit more demanding.

And it would only get worse.

I had firsthand knowledge of the trap he’d fallen into; you run into a hot babe, waaaay out of your league. You screw her pussy for everything you’re worth. But something happens when you thrust yourself into that wet, warm, inviting snatch and blast her womb with all the jizz in your arsenal. You might have a few moments of fatigue; but faster than you dreamed possible; you’d be hard again—so of course you give it to her again. And again.

Hours would seem to go by when you never got limp, not even for a second. Again and again you’d empty your balls into her hot, dripping female depths, and in just minutes your desire would return again; stronger than before! You could shag this beyond-gorgeous sex-demon five times a day; and still find yourself with the worst case of blue-balls you’ve ever had! Like you hadn’t cum in a week! And you’d want to! More than before! And she’d spread her legs to accept everything you have to give. You might get a little worried but, wow! This chick was unreal! No way in a million years would this caliber of woman be interested in a guy like you! She was the type of impossible beauty that you’d always told yourself was out of reach! A World-Class hottie worth risking jobs, marriages, and sexual harrassment lawsuits over. But here she was; and you suuuuure weren’t gonna pass up the opportunity! Then, as hot as this chick was; she’d be begging YOU to stay. She says it was all you, that she’d never met any man half as virile as you, and that.... she doesn’t think of herself as a bad girl, but she needs sex from you, it has to be you, and not to be mad at her for needing you for your body. So much sex. Sure, you’d end up trying to get away every chance you got to spend all your free time in bed with her; but also, you’d get angry and irritable if anything got in the way of your erotic rendezvous. She would tell you whatever you needed to hear, become the tender lover you needed, whatever it took to keep you coming back. But the more you screwed her, the more you’d want to! After the first week; there’d be no pretense at dating, or romance, or ‘getting to know you’—the two of you would meet anyplace private, and with naked bodies entwined, you’d spend hours pumping her full of more cum than you ever dreamed possible. Your output would become unreal! Gush after gush into her greedy womb. It would become something beyond sex; more like... all-night sperm-infusions. Multiple orgasms would wrack you, semen would flow from your exploding dick into her womb at volumes that shouldn’t be humanly possible. And she’d take it. Take it all up into herself, never wasting a drop. Morning would come, and you’d find that YOU STILL HADN’T FUCKED HER ENOUGH! You’d get angry at the job, the family, normal errands that would take you away from her pulsing sex. And her legs would be spread wide for you, her smile and her pussy more inviting than anything you had waiting for you. You’d be counting the minutes until you could get back to her, get your cock back inside her, to send even more sperm jetting into her body! So willing! So receptive! She would do anything, too.Take it anywhere! Mouth, ass, pussy, tittiefuck, toys, you name it.... anything but condoms.

Pretty soon though, your lover would have absorbed the full dose of sperm she needed; her belly would swell with pregnancy; and she’d enter a cocoon for her metamorphosis. As weird and scary as it was, you were willing to tolerate whatever you had to to fuck her again. She would be gone, but she’d leave you a parting present—her cocoon would hatch and reveal a handful of cock-crazed cumsluts to both pamper and fuck you forever. Each just as drop-dead gorgeous as the first! Each one a total nympho-whore for you! They would be babes! Knock-out gorgeous babes! And it seemed like they wanted sex with you even more than you wanted it with them! By now, you’d be like a sultan in one of those Middle-Eastern harems, and with three or four Nympha riding your growing cock, lathering you with their virility venom, your libido would only grow farther, faster. Jobs and families would just cease to have any real meaning; you would do whatever you could to escape and reject anything that got in the way of continuously inseminating your bevy of beauties. Your rational mind knew they were some kind of alien being; but you were willing to do whatever it took, put up with anything imaginable, if it meant continuing with your harem.

Days would go by where you never went limp. Somewhere along the line, you’d notice that somehow, you now had two penises. But that just meant that the pleasure and sex-games could be more intense. The rapturous bliss from the more complex erotic hijinks would far outweigh any fear or outrage you felt at becoming a sex-mutant. So what if your wife called you, demanding a divorce? What did you need her for? These uber-hotties took care of you, they were young and gorgeous, and you could do all sorts of kinky games with them; things your ice-queen wife would never allow. Your harem would tell you not to worry about her, and you’d just lose yourself into ever-escalating erotic indulgence and orgasmic sex-play. And you wouldn’t even miss the ability to do basic math, eat solid food, or the most simple motor skills. Because by now, you’d have even more women. And they’d keep on fucking you. It didn’t matter that they obviously weren’t human; because no human girl ever gave you so much! You weren’t afraid of the wings, or cocoons, or pheromones, or mesmerizing eyes; your only fear was that one day, it would end. But your harem would grow again; and the new women would reassure you, promise to keep fucking you...

Always....

Or course; seeing my first Nympha cocoon had been a watershed moment; based on what the biologists had told me from DNA tests, and seeing their lifecycle first hand had given me the idea...

They were not unlike caterpillars. (For some strange, cosmic being it seemed) How do you kill a caterpillar? I didn’t want to run around the County armed with assault rifles and pistols. Was there an alternative? Agribusiness and biotech had the answer. The same toxin often genetically engineered into GM crops actually worked on them. It took some time, a lot of effort, and money. But Jessie had a chemistry background from her college days; and so working (and spending) together; I was able to derive an extract from the wild bacteria that was effective against the alien cells; but completely harmless to humans. If I were some kind of armed-to-the-teeth vigilante hitman bristling with guns; the cops would have picked me up long ago and pressed charges.

But now? If they stopped me now, I’d just seem like some overzealous exterminator. I might be in violation of some chemical transporting permit; but nobody could get me for armed robbery, assault, murder, or anything like that.

When I’d found that the BT worked; there were other things that logically followed; some caterpillars are attacked by parasitic wasps, who lay eggs inside them; the caterpillars feed on plants, but wasp larvae would be feeding on them! Another winner. Pretending to be an entomology researcher, and backed up by trust-fund money, I was able to order many shipments of captured wasps. I found a species that goes hog-wild in the presence of Nympha; thinking them to be the biggest, tastiest caterpillar imaginable.

“Look! Someone’s approaching the Mansion from the front gate it’s.....” Jessie’s voice was rising in pitch as her excitement mounted. “It’s Celeste Waverly! The daughter!”

“Oohhhhh.... that little rich bitch who went off to Europe for some elitist education.” I’d grown up in one of those small towns where we all knew each other’s business. “If she’s coming back here, now... then that means—”

“We can find out how the Nympha dispose of interfering human females!” Jessie exclaimed; completing my thought.

“Yeahhhh.... after all these hours of surveillance we’ve logged there are still a lot of unknowns. A lot of male victims have wives, or female relatives they were close to. Somehow; it’s like the Nympha made them... disappear. How do you do that without murder? Never really been sure what they do to the women attached to some stud they’ve seduced.

“Now’s our chance to find out...” Jessie switched to Camera #2.