The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

XXXecil’s ‘Nymph(a)maniacs’

by: XXXecil

Part: 7 = Revenge of the Assmonkey

Jessie sat alone in one of the old, refurbished laboratories back at the Brownfield site. Originally used for quality control; she’d been given free reign to make full use of her chemistry knowledge in Cecil’s quest.

She sat in a swivel chair... naked.

“Three minutes until the next test,” she mouthed to herself; glancing behind at a complex array of boiling beakers and glass probes connected to digitized analyzers.

There were also several monitors here that allowed live-viewing of additional, sensitive areas of the plant. Cecil had become worried about the prisoner holding-tanks, and insisted on routing the cameras to display the room up here in Jessie’s own lab.

She was also watching a second monitor connected to yet more illegal spy-cameras showing a seemingly peaceful dwelling in a residential neighbourhood right here in town. Jessie stretched languidly, her naked breasts bobbing in the flourescent light as she smiled, punched in some keys to adjust the camera angle in the holding tank. There was another button that allowed intercom.

The captive Nympha were at opposite ends of their prison. They spent all day, everyday in each other’s presence, and often desired privacy—to the extent it was possible.

Paradise was watching a TV screen at the far northeast corner of the cylindrical holding tank.

“No channels; just tapes of phych tests Cecil uses to try and get inside our heads. Maybe I’ll get inside your head, Cecil! Maybe next time I’ll find your weakness.” Paradise masturbated as she spoke, fingers thrusting luridly into her own pussy.

Pacifica had found an errant shard of metal that she was using to carve CECIL into the floor, in some compulsive gesture of great need. Occasionally, the intercom picked up the words—‘he’ll fuck me... fuck me soon... soon...”

Then the Nympha saw the camera moving above them, and knew that there were being watched actively.

“Is that you bitch?” Paradise sneered.

“She owes us...” Pacifica muttered.

“Neither of you have the control you think you do...” Paradise remarked suspiciously.

“What are you talking about?” Jessie asked through the intercom speaker with an annoyed tone.

“We know what’s happening to Cecil; we’ve always known!” Pacifica said, a gleam in her blue eyes.

“But now he’s adjusted the distributor in this tank to give us barely a days worth of sperm!” Paradise explained angrily.

“And you want me to fix it? Reintroduce the error that caused him to overfeed you?” Jessie predicted.

Paradise’s eyes narrowed; you know what can happen if you stop cooperating!” The threat hung in the air.

“Like he would believe YOUR kind anyway. You’re losing ground everyday; and I’m not afraid of your threats.” That got both Nympha furious, and both could be seen shouting and pointing at the camera, after the intercom was switched off.

Jessie focused on the residential house; powerful microphones and spy cameras revealed a scene that was becoming surprisingly common. A thirty-plus male divorcee was thrashing on the carpet on the living room here in this house; it was difficult to make out details from the outside; but with image enhancement Jessie could see curly-haired female figures on all fours, squealing with glee as the shape of a man with three golf-club length cocks delivered a series of full-body, pounding thrusts into her from behind. The microphones picked up words that sounded like: “My Ass! Do me in the Ass!” Another naked, female shape was sitting on a couch apparently digging her fingers into her own cunt; masturbating brazenly, openly in front of this man; likely as a way to drive his arousal to yet greater heights.

But outside the house an angry, muttering old woman was slowly hobbling up the cobblestone walkway ringing the dwelling towards the front door; muttering complaints against the occupants.

“.. not returning his own mother’s calls! Just having that hussy answer the phone!.... not even trying to get back together with Susie, his wife! Well... momma’s gonna get to the bottom of this dissipated life the boy has fallen into!”

But from behind her came a startling redhead in a sheer cocktail dress. The redhead said something that didn’t pick up on the mic.

“Because he’s my SON! That makes it my business!” the eighty-ish old lady howled.

On the camera, it was very hard to make out the faint, bluish-purple mists emitted from the redhead.

“No, Mrs. Hensely, it’s alright... you talked to your son just yesterday; he’s got his life on track.”

“WHAT! what kind of mularkey is... is... th... the smell I... didn’t...” Eyes glazing over. “Yesterday?”

“Yes, the redhead said with maternal condescension. “You spoke with your son yesterday, his life is back on track.” Sultry, moist lips blew a few more whiffs of the faint, flowery gases.

“Well, no need to stick around here; I spoke with my son yesterday; his life is back on track. Not sure why I came out here....” The eighty-something old biddie, forgetting her intent completely settled back into her Oldsmobile, confused... but knowing she had no reason to be here, even as her son cavorted madly with naked alien sperm-whores behind the brick walls before her.

Jessie smiled; “Cecil doesn’t need to know about this harem. Not yet....” fingers flew across the keyboard. “File shred.... delete.... save over again..... should make this recording unrecoverable.... good, good.”

There was a static-filled buzz from the intercom system. Ahh... that meant someone was at the front gate! Not that very many people were likely to come by that way! Officially; this site was a condemned eco-hazard. Everything Cecil did and built here was technically illegal, but if the authorities knew, they weren’t motivated to take action.

Still; even in the small towns that dotted the County, Cecil’s actions weren’t widely known—of course that was partially because the Nympha used their alien powers to brainwash people into ignoring evidence of his activites.

But there were a few who couldn’t help but be in the know. Jessie pressed a white button near the screen that showed the front gate. It produced an irritating warning buzz and recorded message:


“Assmonkeys.” came the expected password. “It’s me, Jessie; my truck’s got the pipeline y’all ordered, as well as the storage units. It’s just like b’fore, stuff was slated for disposal and won’t be missed.” She beeped him in; several gates of galvanized wire frames swung out of the way for the tractor trailer.

“So what are you wearing, Steve?” Jessie asked jokingly. She smiled as she contemplated how this man might react if he could see her naked melons as she fondled her own bosom.

“Th-that’s not funny J-Jessie. Y-you know what Cecil saved me from. I can’t... don’t wanna th-think about s-sexy things. I’m... I’m back with m-my wife... thanks to y-you. Don’t wanna.... think too much.... about sex.”

“Awww, you luv your wifey...” Jessie cooed; but privately she sneered.

* * *

Steve had been one of Cecil’s great success stories; a man rescued from his own sexy harem hell in a successful suburban raid. Twenty-Two Nympha had been feasting on Steve’s then four, eighteen-inch cocks. All that from a one-night-stand with a big-titted, babe-tastic brunette cruising a tittie-bar for lonely hearts. (and easy prey) That one-night turned into an obsession, as the lanky, blond-headed, slightly-beer gutted truck driver found himself pumping more cum into this fantastically horny hussie than he ever ejaculated in all his teen years combined! He didn’t even care about losing his job and his wife! Not after the brunette multiplied; and Steve found himself in a house she seemed to own, suddenly surrounded with these gorgeoulicious beauty-queens pampering him, pleasuring him, and suck-fucking him every hour of every day! He should have been scared when he sprouted the extra dicks; but he couldn’t stop now; having two—three—then four cocks was not half as scary as the thought of not having his harem!

But Cecil had saved him. Poisoning the whole hive; the renegade alien-hunter plus Jessie had drenched him in some kind of pesticide for days, slowly weaning him back onto solid food. Then sent him to a doctor. Cecil had tried hard to spread the word, all kinds of photos of Steve’s freaky forest of dicks. It had astounded the doctor; but somehow, sometime later, that same doctor claimed to have forgotten everything; and all the medical records were destroyed. Several old, experienced nurses at the local clinic were replaced with busty, young babes, and Steve’s real-life encounter became just more alien-abduction folklore.

Instead, Steve was reported to have suffered from a ‘kidney disease’ in the community, and Cecil helped him get a new job—in return for throwing some needed heavy industrial materials his way. Even his fat sow of a wife had taken him back. And he had only one dick again, barely ten inches long.

Thanks to Cecil.

All thanks to Cecil.

Steve drove his truck into the Brownfield chem plant.

* * *

A nearby timer dinged.

Jessie walked over, the nude curves of her creamy buttocks glistening in the cool air as she walked to the table of beakers. She took a pipette and plucked a strand of her hair; dipping it into a bubbling, clear solution, then checking it under a microscope. “No reaction.” She next used the pipette to drip the same solution onto the back of her own hand. The liquid sat there, not visibly reacting. “Nothing!” she smiled a chesire-cat grin. “Is this it? Have I found the cure I’m been after all these months?”

* * *

They had me cornered. The linebackers from the University football team, under the sweet-smelling mind-control of the preggers lingerie Nympha. But the bitches had enough control over this campus that they were able to breed in public. Five nude, nubile, and nymph(a)maniacal Italian supermodels ran towards me, desperately hungry for sperm; screaming—begging to be fucked.

These alien bitches thought they were so clever, with all their powers and erotic mating musks and addictive chemicals they used on us...maybe I had an idea. The linebackers were slowly advancing;cautiously—not letting me manuever past them, but also making sure that I would be trapped and then screwed into a stupor by the crazed hatchlings.

I reached into the bag I was carrying tightly, and broke the caps off of my remaining vials of Nympha milk that I had taken for testing. Immediately, I splashed as much of the creamy liquid I could into the faces of the linebackers.

That got their attention. All of them stopped short....

“So sweet...”

“Aahh..... that’s the stuff!” they moaned with pleasure. Yeah, meat-heads. That’s the stuff alright! More addictive than heroin or cocaine!

“There’s more!” I shouted; “The girls, their breasts have more!” The men groaned, their dicks tenting through their pants. It was working! All these powers of seduction the Nympha had, it was high-time I turn their own abilities against them!

“M-more milk....uuuuhhgghhh...” Moaned a broad-shouldered beefcake as he brushed past me!

“Wh- no! The enemy is escaping!” bemoaned the caramel-skinned pregnant Nympha.

But it was too late; apparently the yearning for more narcotic-milk was stronger than the mental-seduction of Nympha mind-control scent-glands. The two groups met in a crash of scrambling flesh. The hatchlings, for their part were uncontrollable. They were maniacally desperate for the fresh semen of human males, but it didn’t matter which male! They were just as grateful to be pinned to the wall and hastily, roughly inseminated by the beefy jocks as me. This was probably better for them, as there were more of the athletes, allowing each breast-augmented Italian supermodel to have her very own man, and a raging penis dedicated only to her. The exchange was fair, the new Nympha were more than eager to offer up their painfully milk-bloated breasts to the thrusting mouths, lips, and tonges of the athletes; who were more than willing to also plunge their meaty dicks deep into the anxious vaginas of the hungering alien beauties. With the stamina of these men and the manic craving of the alien sluts; I shuddered to think of how long the mating would continue. The floor would soon be inundated with sweat, sperm, and milk. Wouldn’t want to be the Janitor! (Of course, by now the Janitor probably had eight dicks and could do nothing but howl with ecstasy and projectile-ejaculate.)

“You are the one we were warned about!” growled the pregnant Nympha. Her lingerie-garters began unfolding and expanding, changing textures to become her natural butterfly wings; white but with a stunning bluish irridescence, immediately she flapped and unleashed a vast cloud of mind-control scents at me. “Just a taste of the ecstasy we will bring to your planet!”

But I was ready for this; I’d been experimenting with aerosol smelling-salts, which I’d hope could be stored longer than live onions, and which I’d hoped could neutralize Nympha mists in mid-air. I stormed through the erotic mist cloud, blasting the pungeant aerosol at my own nose. My eyes watered, I got that buzzing pain in the back of my head; but it seemed to work; as unpleasant as the sensation was, there was just no room for the Nympha chemicals to influence my brain!

She probably didn’t expect me to run towards her, and reflexively jumped back at the last second. But I had a mission that I still hoped to salvage. Right next to the pregnant alien was the central department office.

“Why don’t you understand?” She shifted her pregnant bulk and came after me at a stately gait. “We’re just peaceful girls with a deep passion for men.” Yeah, I’d heard that line before. What I was hoping for was a long-shot.

I figured that if the tape Farnsworth had mentioned were in his office, the Nympha would have it, and there was no hope in any event. But maybe... just maybe...—why yes! There was a tape in the professor’s faculty mailbox slot, arranged in a grid of wooden open-front boxes clustered together on the south wall of the central office. Odd that it would be there, but I had no time to complain. I snatched it and grabbed up a thick metal chair; which I hurtled out the closed, second-story window of the building!

“You have a pregnancy fetish! I can smell it on you!” She growled accusingly. " Don’t you know that we are the fulfillment of your EVERY male desire!” she insisted as she began fingering her breasts. Maybe that was the problem.

I had only one real choice.

As the Nympha unleashed high-pressure streams of her sweet narcotic milk at me, I boldly leapt out the window in one swift leap; not wanting to risk even the briefest contact with the lactation.

That short of thing works out better in the movies. Tore up my pants and some broken glass gashed my shoulder a little. Also, my ankle throbbed a bit from a rough, tumbling landing near some shrubs. I welcomed the pain; knowing that it often blocked out the mind-numbing bliss from Nympha pleasure-attacks.

The campus was unusually quiet, for noon on a weekday. Very few students walking around for a university of this size. But looking at me now where a boy and a girl, with backpacks and stunned looks on their faces; having seen my daring escape from my milky nemesis. They were rather....ordinary looking, both of them.

“There’s nothing to see here,” the boy announced, eyes glazing.

“No evidence of anything unusual.” The girl reported; a robotic expression stealing across her face. I growled in annoyance and doused them both with my smelling-salts aerosol. Not sure if it would help.

Probably just enough people running around here for a semblance of normalcy, but how many male students where there that had forgotten higher education, and now knew only to shriek in mindless delight as they blasted their alien lovers with rivers of sperm?

* * *

The tape I’d gotten from Farnsworth was a movie/video file. I decided to watch it in my private quarters. A part of me worried that—if I watched in the telecommunications center, and the exploits of the Nympha proved especially salacious, I might orgasm right there in my pants; couldn’t let Jessie see that.

The movie was camera footage of what seemed to be a public restroom; nothing that really indicated the location, time, or circumstances. A slim and stacked brunette goddess was posing in front of the bathroom mirror. She set down a pink duffelbag she carried, as she studied herself in the mirror. She had the impressive build of a dancer or fitness model, but was dressed in a dark trenchcoat. She frowned in the mirror, as if hating to hide her spectacular curves. Her true nature was revealed as the dark trenchcoat slithered and morphed into a skin-tight, light-pink leotard and stocking-ensemble appropriate for a ballet-dancer. But no respectable dance troupe would hire someone with such extravagant breasts. Her line of cleavage was long and steep enough to fully contain a number#2 pencil with room to spare; the leotard bustier made it seem as though her breastacular boobs were primed to go thermonuclear with cantaloupe-sized sex-appeal. The ballet outfit was merely to show off her incredible curvature. It seemed as though this walking wet dream was.... waiting for something.

And that something came just moments later. A tired-looking, but well-dressed Rita Potosi entered the bathroom. I gasped audibly; realizing where this might be going. It was “Recall Rita” champion of many conspiracy theorists that demanded a clean sweep of Congress as a reaction to the untraceable weirdness of the past year. Red formal dress-suit slightly sprinkled with rain. Perhaps she just wanted to touch up her makeup before a big speech to her TTBO supporters.

She needn’t have bothered.

“Hmm.. Ballet in town?” The Congresswoman asked.

“There will certainly be a show, Congresswoman Potosi! I hope you can enjoy it!” The dazzling Brunette beamed as she slid her pink duffelbag closer.

“Well, perhaps—but my schedule is a bit hectic.” she smiled half-heartedly.

“This will only take five minutes—” the busty stranger said, darkly. Potosi frowned as she adjusted an earring; and it was too late.

It turned out that somehow, the pink ballet leotard was actually a gigantic pair of black and red-striped butterfly wings; and the woman was naked. And she had entirely enveloped the firebrand Freshman Congresswoman.

Five minutes later, clear slime dribbled from a slit hanging in mid-air. A face and shoulder squeezed from it, and the remainder of her body tumbled to the floor.

Confusion.... urgency. The woman could see herself clearly in the mirror, she had blond hair, yet her face was clearly that of an Asian teenager.Yet somehow, it was as though the rest of her body had been created from a grab-bag of the most voluptuous traits from Latina and Black strippers. A sumptuous ass with bulging curvature dominated her pelvis and seemed to cry out to be touched. Her breasts were vast, heavy hangers that seemed to invite the hands to grab and squeeze in a futile attempt to contain her bosomy bounty.

“Wh- who... who am I?” the delicious, hodgepodge woman wondered aloud. Sliding from the invisible cocoon moments later was someone for whom that question was all the more pressing.

Sleek, nude and glistening with oils, the woman had the same incredible dancer’s build and busty boobage. The black and red-striped butterfly wings unfolded to reveal...

The face of “Recall Rita” Potosi, now attached to the athletic-busty body of the Nympha alien!

“Y-you....” the blond Asian pointed at the winged woman. “Who... I’m not me... I’m You turned me into a Slut!” she exclaimed, wiggling her pelvis as though for emphasis.

“Better to think of yourself as a whore, my pet.”

“Oohhh.... yes... I... I could make the bestest whore!” the Asian said, rubbing her nude, moist body against the tiled wall. “But... who am I?” she asked.

“Why, you are Kiki! You are a total whore for men with hard cocks!” the winged woman with the familiar face said. Kiki babbled in bliss.

“Yeah! I’m Kiki! I’m so lucky to be a whore! If I’m a good whore, can you put me back in your yummy cocoon?”

“Soon, little one. There is something you must do for me first!” The body-snatching alien said with a patronizing smile.

“I hope it involves sex with men! Lotsa men!” Kiki suggested happily.

“You ARE a smart one,” The Potosi alien said. “And you’ll have no trouble out there. It will be fine; as soon as you fuck twenty men, then I’ll find you! And the pleasure of the Chrysalis will be yours again!”

Kiki clapped her hands and leaped for joy! But then frowned slightly. “I hope that’s not all? Will there be more men after my first twenty?”

“Ohhh yes, sweet Kiki! I designed your new body for a man’s pleasure! I took away everything from your mind and body that might get in the way of your new life of continuous sex!” The alien put a comforting hand on the other woman’s shoulder as Kiki smiled in vapid thanks.

“Everywhere, you will find men with desires they think can never be realized.” The Potosi alien swept her arm over an imaginary vista of mankind. “Men are trapped with loveless, frigid wives, bouncing between girlfriends who never give them what they want. That is where you come in. You Kiki, will offer up your body for any man. Your mouth, ass, and pussy must be available for any man to relieve his natural lusts. You are the very soul of desire.”

Kiki made a gurgling sound, scrunched up her face and began to furiously frig her own cunt. “So many cocks... in me... all men... all cocks...I want you... to release! Cum in meeeeeee!!!” Kiki howled, as girlcum trickled down her slim legs. “I’ll fuck them! I’ll fuck them all!” Nipples hard as diamonds, panting with arousal, pussy dripping, Kiki moved for the door.

A hand on her arm stopped her.

“Don’t forget my pet, you must still wear some clothing.” At Kiki’s crestfallen expression, the alien opened the pink duffelbag and revealed fishnet stockings, white lingerie panty-bottoms, a hot-pink string bikini top, and transparent plastic platform shoes. Kiki nodded.

“Now EVERYONE will know that I’m a whore!” and she happily dressed herself, on a mission to prostitute her every hole for twenty men, twenty cocks, twenty doses of sperm.

“And no Earthly science will have any hope of determining who you used to be...” the alien said after her pet had left.

The she-demon that had stolen the face, mind, and soul of Rita Potosi continued studying herself in the mirror. She experimented with several colors of professional-looking dress-suits formed out of her shapeshifting wings. With clothes on, the likeness was perfect, no one could visibly tell she was NOT who she appeared to be. Her face was.... slightly younger-looking. But the Congresswoman’s colleagues would simply believe she’d found another, better plastic surgeon. Her clothes melted away to reveal the original busty fitness-model body, and the contrast was stark; Rita Potosi was over fifty; but this was the porn-friendly body of a breast-enhanced fitness-model stripper half that age. “The humans will never know the truth. Every man who has seen this body has fucked this body; and any women who sees it will be cocooned, for a metamorphosis into another Kiki.” Of course, she now owned every man who had fucked her. The demon rooted around in the remains of the disintegrating cocoon to find Rita’s smartphone. She thumbed through the contacts lists, and came to the name of a male aide.

“Hmm... James... an excellent Aide, and a stud. The human, Rita Potosi secretely lusted after this young man in her employ; and so now I lust for him too! But I can have him! He will be replaced in the office with a functionary of my own kind.... and I shall feast on his virility until I leave this planet to my young!” The alien grunted, as her breasts crept slightly larger, close to H-cup range, spurts of milk escaped from her turgid nipples.

“Perhaps some human food, first. Cocooning takes a lot out of girl.”

* * *

So there we have it. Not only are the aliens manipulating the established government; they were also manipulating the OPPOSITION to the established government. Throw the Bums out... and then install even worse bums to replace them. The sad part was; I suspected that the alien being would actually make a more competent legislator than most politicians in Congress. But the special interest she was beholden to was a bit more sinister.

What also worried me was how hard it would be to guage the number of neo-whores running around; with no identities or records. But reports seemed to indicate there might be thousands of them. Thousands of real, human women corrupted this way... I clenched my fist in impotent rage.

But one more biological tidbit; they can make use of human food; for cocooning, at least.

* * *

It was another dream; about Jessie. She was dressed in a diaphanous gown of woven-together butterfly wings; running into my arms; muttering something about how it was time for my reward...In the dream, I thrust myself inside of her inviting pussy, but as we moved together, grinding our sexes against the other, my own penis began growing, and growing... like a Jack & the Beanstalk analogy, my dick shot upwards dozens, hundreds of feet; carrying Jessie far, far from my reach.

It was the alarm that awakened me. Intruder alerts; a lot of them. A viewscreen in my personal quarters showing a diagram of the compound showed several red dots at all four corners of the Brownfield plant.

Multiple Breaches.

No police megaphones telling me to give up either; something told me this had nothing to do with the authorities. The alert seemed to have no effect on my dick, my throbbing pole of erect manmeat was—NO!!

Damn! I didn’t have time for this now! Even before measuring, the sinking feeling in my groin told me the truth; that my manhood was over a foot long! More than twelve-inches of erect fuckstick shot up between my legs! Whatever contamination I was suffering from was only going to continue! In addition to the delay I experienced squeezing my hardness into the baggiest sweats I had; there were still all the problems that came with this:

My libido would be greater now, my staying power as well as sperm output would be even greater than ever! The personal danger to me would only get worse; I had seen men smaller than me who had been entirely overcome by the Nympha! My admonition from yesterday was even more true now:

Not one.

If just one Nympha could fuck my cock within her seething pussy; it would break me. I would become her plaything; her sex-pet, her living sperm-bank!

But what choice did I have; they were here, now! It was both a danger and an opportunity! And I’d been doing some more work; a few more tricks up my sleeve!

I ran from my room; I had a secret weapon, in case of something like this; there was a way I could deluge my attackers with their greatest weakness!

It was just after dusk, with the fading hint of the sun’s travels faintly brightening the western sky. I ran along a metal catwalk alongside the third floor of the complex that housed my Comm Center, and the Nympha prison below, (Jessie had a lab on this floor.) Before me, rising up out of the courtyard was a water-tower once used by the chem-plant but since moving in I had bought or embezzled the equipment I needed to use the thing to store thousands of gallons of my BT-extract toxin. Harmless to humans; murder on bugs! (Or shapeshifting alien seductresses) I had been modifying the plumbing system, it would allow me—with just the opening of a valve, to cause geysers of toxin to flood the courtyard and all outbuildings! That would show ‘em! Just needed to get to the main pipeline up near the...

But that was when I heard the helicopter. It was a wonder I didn’t notice it sooner... could they have launched it from somewhere close by? I slowed my run and studied the aircraft.... wait... this was the Channel 69 News ‘Copter, was I about to get interviewed? No.... nothing like that. It had to be a Nympha attack; and they seemed to have a firm grip on the local media outlets. With their mind-controlling fragrance, it could be ridiculously easy to gain access to the vehicle. There was almost no daylight left, and the helicopter had its lights off. How would they see where to land?

Unless they weren’t landing.

Faster than I believed posible, the chopper veered towards the center of the yard, and violently impacted the water tower! My water tower! My BT tower! The shriek of metal and incendiary flash sent a chill through me.... no pressure... no way to flood the compound. At least.... no way to flood the compound with BT....

I saw my enemy then, flying down from the twilight skies. Naked and spectacular; my terrible, beautiful enemies. A rainbow of butterfly wing-patterns glided down towards my compound; I was unarmed and moved to hide behind some storage drums as they descended... over forty of them... and.. wait....I recognized some of them! A brunette with blond highlights... that certain redhead... an Asian with breasts the size of watermelons; that Latina with the huge ass and the blue wings... So far, every Nympha I saw was at the Waverly Estate! Here I was, plotting and planning my raid on them; but they knew all about me, and were already on the offensive!

They knew all about me.

They had to; how else would they have known to start off the fight by destroying the water tower?

But I still had some more stockpiles, I needed to get to my nearest weapons cache. There was a catwalk bridge on the other side of this building that would lead to several interesting concoctions, and some anti-pheromone devices. Just had to run around the south side of this balcony and...

That was when I saw the rift. Right in my path. In between me and the catwalk that would take me to a weapons cache. The glowing rift in mid air.

As a mature Nympha rippled through the air on her way to a higher plane of existence, it seemed as though the alien took my hopes with her.

But she left behind a present.

Her offspring. Three of them this time, squeezing naked and oily from their huge cocoon. Most of the Nympha I’d seen had surprisingly slender figures with a lean sleekness very unlikely for their large busts; but these girls were chestier than the norm.

Their bodies were identical, but each had a different hair color; one blond, a brunette, and a redhead. Wide, birthing hips. Much of their torsos were obscured by the sweeping expanse of their satchel-sized bosoms meeting the rising ripeness of their hips. No... you would not see women of this build on fashion runways; these were females born for pornography.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuck...” moaned the blonde as she began to rise to her unsteady feet, getting used to her new body.

“Man.... ah smell... a man...” gurgled the redhead.

And the man wasn’t going to give them time to get their bearings. I backtracked and forced my way through a loose piece of paneling in the floor I was on. I could hear them coming. Nothing in this room but old, rusty drums. The factory probably used this area for piping away chemical waste or some such. No other exits. No vents that I could see, but I did see the newest Nympha coming around the corner.

I tried not to allow my shock and outrage to cloud my judgment, What happened... seemed impossible, but what is, is and I’ll have to adapt!

I could see them through a slit in the rusty metal paneling as the homed in on my location. They were panting and growning; knowing they would never survive if they didn’t mate soon.

“MAAAAAN!” howled the wet, dripping blond. “Stop being a dodgy sort! Get your pecker in my quim and start Rodgerin’ me!”


“Ya Bloody Wanker! Can’t ye see how wet my pussy is for you?” I think it was the Redhead speaking. Wow, I guess that almost made sense. The aliens started off by stealing traits from the minds and bodies of real women to construct their false human personas; some of those women must’ve been Brits.

“Ah’m drenching wet for ‘im...uuuuunnnnggg,” moaned the Brunette.

“ He just doesn’t know....uuoooooohhhh... how good mah pussy is....” That was when I heard a sound of wrenching metal. Rivets and nails snapping. Sheet metal being bent like cardboard. Yikes! I had suspected they might be stronger than natural women; maaajor understatement.

The three naked British Porn-stars wrenched loose the sheet metal walls and stepped into the small chamber inside, over rusty nails, broken glass, sharp pieces of metal, none of which seemed to bother their smooth, moist skin.

“Pussy....gorged...” muttered the blond. All the Nympha were panting, panicking, lubricating their thighs with feminine wetness.

“None of us likes to rape a man...” The redhead confessed. “We want the man to be seduced... to come to us... cum in us... so much better if ya come to my pussy. Just come out now... and thrust yer wanker into me...uuuuuuunnnn.”

Too late; it turns out there was a pipeline in this room for chemical waste, I was already in it and climbing away as quietly as I could.

It would take longer, but I knew this pipe connected with a building that housed another of my older stockpiles. There were cracks and occasional rusted holes in the pipeline, and I knew that in a collapse, my fate would be sealed. I could hear the fluttering of Nympha wings above me, and through a whole in the bottom, I saw.... yes... that was her—the pale-skinned, dark-haired Persian Nympha, who had no doubt cocooned the groundskeeper’s wife by now. Her true form included glittering navy blue and white-spotted wings; her hands gripped her sizeable boobs, ready to squeeze, that she might lactate her mind-numbing milk at the slightest hint

A thrill went up my spine and my heart beat faster; the urge to just give myself to her pussy that I might begin drinking from her white nectar held me paralyzed for a moment. I knew that my position was weaker than yesterday. At the university I was, by the narrowest of margins able to wrench myself away from the two blondes with every ounce of willpower I possessed. But far from being a Baby-dick, my manshaft was over a foot now, the same situation would kindle in my groin mating instincts harder to suppress. I didn’t think it was possible, if they got close; my body would betray me.

And then I saw her... as I climbed further through the pipeline and my immediate goal.

One Nympha was not joining in the hunt for me; but stood off center in the courtyard, barking orders on a walkie-talkie. I saw her through another rusted hole in the pipeline. Her stockings and suit where all black, very professional. While she was a deliciously attractive blonde, I got the feeling that she was not here for seduction. She was about to make a call, but something distracted her.

“You? Here?” She was looking at someone hidden from my perspective by a large propane tank.

“I...I couldn’t wait... I have to know... is it enough.. what I’ve done...” gurgled a male voice I couldn’t quite recognize.

“Well, you’ve done your part. Just as you said you would.”

“But...can you give me... what I need?” the male voice gurgled in desperation.

“Now is NOT a good time!”

“I just need... a little just a little....” The blonde’s eyebrow raised.

“Luckily for you, I find the experience highly enjoyable, Mr. Marrows.”

What, Marrows... could it be...

Sure enough, Steve—one of my greatest successes stepped into my field of view. He looked haunted and desperate. The Blond’s black dress-suit flowed away from her chest, allowing a set of impressively round Triple-D’s to bounce free into the cool air.

With the moan of a starving man, Steve latched onto a nipple, and began to drink. It shouldn’t have surprised me, but it did. He should have known better; in fact Steve did know better! But I guess knowing the risks of Crack Cocain doesn’t make it less addictive. And the wet trails of luscious damnation that leaked from the Blonde’s nipples had any Earth narcotic beat.

Was that it then? Was my mission, my great calling betrayed just so Steve Marrows could suck on some tits?

“I want..MMPH to go back... to how it was...SLURP.” he began to explain, in between mouthfuls of wet, spurting nipples. “To fuck... so many women....a life of...endless, hot sex....SLORP miserable... after Cecil....wiped out my GLUNK old harem... back to my...SLURP fat, angry bitch-sow of a wife...SUCK enough o’ her....MMMMM one o’ you...SUCKLE should go put ‘er in a cocoon..MMPH so she comes out a big-titted....MMM twenty-year old bimbo-whore...UNNNNGG

“Is that... what you really want... Mr. Marrows... A bimbo-whore?” The blond in the black suit was now encircling her arms around Steve’s head, pressing his lips further into her bosom as she panted. The giving of her milk almost as sweet as receiving it.

“For showing us... the weakness in Cecil’s.... defenses...and for transporting our cocoons inside his base, you can have any single woman you want; you can have....AHHHHHHH” she quivered as his lips tugged forcefully on a nipple. “Any.... ten women you want...ooohh.... Of course, with one of us, enough sex—and she’ll leave you a harem. Or... HAAHHHHH... we can give you many women... start out with a harem... be surrounded by beauty and lust the rest of your days! UURRRNNN... right there...the nipple... yes... suck there....ahhhhh.....”

“Mmmmm... gimme... two o’ you gals. .SLURP ... Tall, fit... long, dark hair....SLURP . kinda.... Eastern European-lookin’. Pale, creamy skin.. .SLURP .. busty.... so busty....boobs so big... they can barely stand... I want ‘em... want to fuck ‘em.... ‘till they do their cocoon thing.. .SLURP ...and my’ll get sooooo big...MMMMLLLPMMMPHF I want... a monster dick... to fuck ‘em...SLURP all day! I’ll get... more women... even more... Want... young, gorgeous women... no aging, no wrinkles...SLURP ... no fat... young...trim busty... forever... Don’t care... whether Cecil thinks... it’s good for the world... or mankind.... just gimme the babes! Just... let me... have my honeys... and a monster dick.... fuck ‘em...fuck me. .SLURP ..forever!” At that, Steve seemed to suffer some sort of spasm of ecstasy, eyes rolling into the back of his head, as he moaned with delight. The darkly-dressed blonde eased him to the ground.

“Yes, Mr. Marrows; after this little nuisance is resolved; we’ll certainly accomodate you; we’ll accomodate all mankind!”

I grit my teeth in impotent rage, recalling Farnsworth’s warning ‘The monopoly on sexual selection’ Perhaps I was just an idiot. To me, being independent-minded as I am, the thought of spending my days ejaculating endlessly from four giant penises is not much different from prison. I saved Steve from that; he’d seen how bad it could get; but just didn’t care. The ease and mindless pleasure of becoming a sperm-bank for the Nympha would be overwhelmingly appealing to a great many men. He turned his back on everything it means to be a man, to be human, so he can wallow in a juvenile fantasy! But what if that juvenile fantasy could become lifelong reality? How many more men would do whatever it took to get a harem?

But not me; I would NOT be part of the problem! For now, though the problem was weapons. And I’d have to be cautious; there were more breeding cocoons; which at any time could split open to reveal fanatically horny, impossibly sexy Nympha in the first sexual frenzy of their lives. And my dick... so big... I was less able to deal with them than I was yesterday!

I left the pipeline, which connected via an empty metal basin with a water-processing outbuilding where I’d been putting together some new weapon ideas, and storing some old ones. This area was in somewhat better repair; concrete floor was swept reasonably clean; and I’d installed overhead lighting.

And... speak of the devil; when I stood up in the hallway after exiting the pipe; behind me I noticed the next glowing rift. I ran immediately, but their hunger for semen was such that they must have been able to track me. I saw the flash of the mature alien entity escaping behind me, and didn’t even turn to look at the new Nympha. Though I did hear lots of throaty moans, and someone calling out:

“Mi Amor!”

What, was this batch French? Well, they got their start in Europe, where the Hadron Collider was; and now they’re spreading. But I didn’t even turn to look. If I rounded a corner here, there would be an elevator I had been able to get working, at that would take me one step closer to victory!

In the end, I did make it to the elevator; the door dinged shut just as a squeal of disgust sounded outside. Narrow escape! I took a moment to breath deeply as I plotted my next -


Oh hell, these bitches are strong! That sounded like the outer door! There was the sound of a delicate impact on the roof of the cabin, followed by the tortured crunch of wood and metal being rended and pulled upwards. The sleek, nude form that leapt down could not have been more than half my own weight.

As naked as the others, this slippery goddess was of a pale, creamy complexion, her hair was a brilliant red with a vibrant shock of blond falling over her left eye for a fiery countenance. Her slim elegance was complemented by broad, jutting hips that seemed to invite the viewer to grasp her pelvis and roughly sire a farmstead’s worth of children upon her fertile loins. (But I knew they would all be aliens if I did.) The balance of her hips, legs, and belly was like sexual poetry. Her boobs were no larger than Double-D’s but were thrusting forward, nipples pointing dead ahead, already dripping with milk. She leapt to embrace me.

“I am your mate.” She cooed in a sultry French-like accent. “My bodee will soothe your troubles.“And she pulled me into a fiery, ardent kiss as she gazed into my eyes with her own , a dazzling shade of near-violet. Her arms flowed around the back of my neck as she sought to wrestle my tongue with her soft, kissable lips. Her milking breasts pressed dangerously against my shirt, while her moistening cunt began to hump against my throbbing groin, impatiently awaiting the blessed moment when she would be inseminated for the first time.

This gave me a chance, as the elevator door opened onto the next floor. I’d seen that these she-demons were endowed with unnatural strength; but this one still wanted me to make the move. She wanted to seduce, not rape me. But she was too close; my traitorous body responded immediately with a heart (and groin)—felt yearning. I had little time; it seemed as though in mere moments all reason would be banished from my thoughts in favor of raw, lusting instinct. I acted quickly while I could still think.

I dropped down immediately and pushed against the wall with my legs. As she was still slippery from her cocoon it was harder to grapple me. I leapt from the elevator, and began running. In the corner of my eye, I saw the Nympha girl grunting painfully; her hips jerking, throbbing in my direction; as though her womb was punishing her for failing to capture my seed.

“NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! mate with MEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!” Came her wailing cry.

As I ran, I took a left turn down another featureless concrete hallway towards my stash -

And all the Nympha that emerged from the last cocoon. Somehow, the clever little bitches had intercepted me! Other than the red-blond lovely I had met; her sisters where of identical physical dimensions; yet one of them had Blond hair with a red shock over her left eye, and the other had black hair with a blond shock. Each seemed imminently fuckable.

And they knew it.

“Do not flee from the pleasures of my body!” moaned Red-blonde.

“My cunt will give you delights undreamed of!” declared Blonde-red.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck....” growled Black-blonde, fingering her own pulsing pussy.

Together, the three could have taken me, forced me to the ground to feast on my sperm. But despite their hunger; I sensed more was at stake. The sisters were competitive:

They could sense that my libido was nearing the boiling-point, and they needed to know who among them was the most seductive; to whose cunt would I turn to vent my raging spunk? So they slowly closed around me, forming a half-circle. Wanting me to choose, but needing to consume my seed regardless.

It was time to change the rules. It was insane, risky, surprising, and strangely logical. I yanked down my pants, and jacked my own monstrous, erect cock. At the hair trigger I’d been on, combined with the sultry aroma of their electrifying pheromones, it took but a moment.

In that moment, my hot, white seed jetted mightily at the faces of my three would-be lover-captors. That did it.

The sight of sperm flying free sent them leaping and grasping. They rolled about frantically scooping, licking, and moaning. This was what they truly needed; after all. And for them, my semen was the intoxicant. Those that fed collapsed, clenching eyes, jaws, and pussies as they shook with delight; absorbing the rich reward that was life itself to them.

And I was past them. I was in an old supply room that I used for storage. A tiny window looked out into the courtyard, where numerous Nympha were landing and gathering. My plan ‘B’ was in here. And guns. Not that I normally used guns; but this time...

* * *

The dark-haired Persian Nympha in the courtyard heard the breaking glass, and the shots fired.

“Bullets?” ridiculous. As long as she had feasted on sperm recently, simple trauma like that would just—FSSSSSS...

Unless the shooter wasn’t aiming at her; but rather at a heavily modified liquid fuel tank here in this dreary courtyard which had recently been filled with something.

Something strange and purplish. Several Nympha realized the danger too late. The pressurized tank exploded; not into flames—but into a choking cloud of lavendar mists. This was something new, something their informant hadn’t mentioned.

At concentrations so high; the effects were almost immediate. Everywhere, hovering Nympha fell from the skies; suddenly top-heavy. Pussies began to moisten, and breasts started to throb.

And grow!

Tangerines became grapefruits, which sprouted several more jiggling inches becoming not unlike footballs. Hands clenching naked breasts could not stop the growing tide of hyper-boobage on the march.

As their sexuality raced out of control; some responded to the fiery yearnings in their pussies by grasping the hands and faces of their sisters and plunging them into their own womanly depths. Flight no longer became an option for most; as the Nympha tumbled to the ground, forced onto hands and knees to ride out the storm of hyper-sexuality that sent their breasts sprouting, growing, enlarging, blossoming up towards volleyball size and beyond, spewing milk, and hoping that by mercilessly frigging their own cunts, relief would come.

* * *

“Yeah Bitches! If I had a really clever one-liner, I’d say it now!” I retorted, as three massive spray-tanks filled with my own Compound 19, Series 3. Yeah, supposed to be a paralytic agent for Nympha physiology but... this kinda works too, sort of. Sometimes we just have to take what we can get. I was roving the halls with a vengeance; determined to try to reach my Control Room. Any Nympha hit ballooned into top-heavy, big-tit fantasies scarcely able to walk from their colossal jugs, orgasming pussies, and high-even-for-them milk output. Not a perfect solution, but it was getting me past them!

I was actually able to sprint across the courtyard unopposed! But the hyper-sexualization wouldn’t last forever, so I had to make progress, download what sensitvie info I could from the Control Room, then figure out whether I needed to escape, or make a stand. I ran down some treadplate stairs on the way to a corridor that would take me to....

Jessie! Good finally! Together we could survive! But Jessie had problems. She was surrounded by four Nympha, a black girl and three redheads, they seemed extremely, irate—incensed at Jessie. That struck me as odd. She was crucial to a lot of my work. The Nympha could just cocoon her, and then steal everything she knows; why weren’t they? Hmm....

Well, they might if I didn’t do something. I unloaded a massive spray of Compound 19, deluging everyone. Should be harmless for humans, so I didn’t worry.

It worked. The Nympha looked flabbergasted, grew unsteady as their vaginas orgasmed spontaneously, and their breasts quadrupled in size. (At least)

“All right, hurry up and we’ll—”



But it was too late. Jessie’s breasts were the size of creamy pumpkins, she was panting, and with an orgasmic howl, unleashed a gush of narcotic breastmilk that landed right in my wide-open mouth.

A numbing wave of cottony pleasure settled in my brain. A cloudy haze of dopey bliss that snuffed out fear, adrenaline, and soon, consiousness.

“Well, that was a surprise!” Jessie remarked.