The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The tube held Riesa tight in the darkness.

Somehow it was more wonderful than she had even anticipated. Her sex was so full, so distended, but it was all pleasure and every nerve was sparking. The tube itself squeezed and caressed her body like a tight dress, like being wrapped in rubber.

She began to move—to descend. Sliding down the tube. She wondered if Cerise and Gwendoline would crawl downward with her, stare at her stuffed and bulging pussy as it slid past them again and again.

It would look odd. Her flesh wasn’t nearly pink enough.

Vaguely, Riesa noticed that she was tilting backwards, her head rotating backward and down, her feet upward. She was being laid on her back. But the dolls slid down the tube vertically—was she in the wrong place? Did that mouth take her somewhere else?

She almost managed to worry that she was in the wrong tube, that she would emerge somewhere else entirely.

Then the shaft in her cunt began to pulse.

All the nerves in her pussy transmitted pleasure all at once, and Riesa stopped thinking.

Her mind refocused a few seconds later, gasping, stunned. The orgasm had turned off her brain.

What had she been thinking?

Riesa squinted; light was suddenly spilling over her. She was dropping slowly, lying on her back, into a lighted room. The talons still held her immobile, at shoulders and crown, hips and sex. She couldn’t move her head to look to her sides.

Her body below the waist felt numb with pleasure.

Riesa realized with a start that she was being lowered down between two women. There was a woman—no, two women—on either side of her. Nude, staring. Not dolls. They were flanking her now, standing over her as though she were on an operating table. They stared blankly at each other over her prone body.

An operating table?

In perfect unison, the women’s heads tilted and looked down at Riesa’s body.

None of them looked at her face.

The women moved, raising their hands. Their hands glistened in the light, fingers and palms slick; not with oil but with gel, a thick, clear slime.

They began to rub it on Riesa’s skin.

Riesa groaned. Her body tried to writhe.

The women’s hands stroked her breasts, her thighs, her belly. They coated her in clear glop, gently, sensually. Riesa had been with multiple lovers and savored their touch but never four at once, never eight hands focused only on Riesa’s helpless body, dedicated only to stroking her yearning flesh. It felt incredible.

Fingertips slithered up and down her splayed labia and Riesa made crying noises she didn’t even recognize.

Riesa’s stunned brain was unable to get further than the question: Why? Why were they doing this? But hypotheses were beyond her, rational thought melted and stolen by the pleasure burning across her flesh. Each time she formed the question anew, a nipple was stroked, a hipbone squeezed, and all thought just vanished away.

Finally her mind gave up and went quiet.

Her mouth made pleasure noises.

Later, awareness trickled back in once more.

She was vertical again. Still held, head and body immobile. The tips of her breasts, the only part of her body she could see without moving her head, glistened with gel.

Her whole body felt wonderful.

The shaft was still in her pussy. She could feel it. It was a pillar of ecstasy in a body of joy.

The women were gone. The wall in front of her was gray and dim, though not black. She realized that she was seeing it through a membrane, through something clear, and understood that she was back in the tube. Away from those women.

She missed their hands.

The shaft was still in her pussy. So wonderful.

Riesa tried to marshal her thoughts, tried to resume functioning as a rational mind, but there was so much pleasure and it demanded her attention. Thinking was like trying to rake leaves in a windstorm.

She began to move.

Sliding downward. The rubbery flesh of the tube clung to her, squeezing her body tightly as she slipped along inside it.

The shaft in her pussy trembled, and pulsed.

Her brain went quiet as she came.

Later, her dissolved mind slowly coalesced once more.

She was still moving downward. The tube flesh gripping her face and body was clear; beyond it was an empty space, a small chamber with gray-green fleshed walls.

Someplace... familiar?

The shaft in her cunt trembled and pulsed.

Her brain went quiet as she came.

Something in her ears.

Her body was ablaze with pleasure but there was something stuffing itself into her ears and it felt odd-

Cold. Cold touch, deep in her ears. Then sounds and vibration and movement, something stretching deeper in... into her brain?

The shaft in her cunt trembled and pulsed.

Her brain went quiet as she came.

Later, awake again, barely, just a scrap of awareness on a floating scum of self. She was still slipping slowly downward. Her whole body felt swollen, distended—and marvelous. Her whole body was a stuffed pussy, alive with pleasure.

There were thoughts in her mind, thoughts that had to be coming in from outside because her brain was unable to think. The thoughts flowed straight into her brain like water pouring in, and her brain lay still and soaked them up. Her body felt so good she couldn’t find any ability at all to care about her stunned brain, she just floated in pleasure and stared idly forward.

The tube flesh in front of her was clear, and she realized that there was someone on the other side of it. A redheaded woman, naked, pretty. Very pretty!

She felt an emotion, an emotion tied to some memory...

The shaft in her cunt trembled and pulsed.

Her brain went quiet as she came.

Her feet touched something thick and cool and her stunned brain gave surprised and weary reaction.

Whatever it was wasn’t solid; her feet pushed into it and it rose around her ankles. She was being lowered into something thick, slimy. It felt good, but then everything felt good. Felt wonderful, erotic. Her whole body felt tight and groaning with pleasure. Her mind was an overfull sponge, limp and sodden.

The slime slipped up past her waist. It felt wonderful. She lapsed back into feeling instead of thought, as the slime rose up her belly, reached her fat breasts.

Fat.

Big.

Her breasts were large, swollen. Felt great.

The slime slipped up the top slopes of her fat breasts, towards her neck.

Could she breathe...?

The shaft in her cunt trembled and pulsed.

Her brain happily gave up thinking and went quiet as she came.

She stood quietly, white slime slowly trickling down her body and dripping from the underside of her fat breasts.

Her mind was still. Inside it thoughts floated quietly, bumping into each other, unexamined. Her hands hung limp at her sides; her eyes were glazed and thoughtless.

She wasn’t waiting—waiting implied anticipation. She had no anticipation, no self-examination, no thoughts at all. She stood quietly because nothing directed her to do otherwise.

A woman emerged from the pool of whitish slime behind her. She did not turn to look. The woman walked slowly past her, her breasts tremendous, her head bald, her skin a bright pink. The standing woman did not watch the flexing of the bright pink buttocks as the husk walked mindlessly across the room, touched a greenish membrane, and walked out.

Then... something.

A tiny furrow appeared in the smooth arc of her brows. She... had... seen...

Self-realization. She. She was.

She was...?

Her mind tightened up and found itself full of thoughts, a great many and most of them not her own. But she could not distinguish between the native thoughts and the thoughts that had been poured into her so-absorbent brain. All the thoughts were hers.

She was a slave. She was a husk. She would obey.

She wanted to see the stars.

The stars?

That thought was tied to other thoughts. She had... come here. She had come here to see the stars. Come from somewhere... the thought trail lost itself, mingling with the jumble in her quiet mind.

She was a slave. She was a husk. She would obey.

The Hive would direct her.

She had no will.

But that was wrong. She wasn’t mindless. Without will. She did have goals, wants, desires... she just had to remember what they were.

Riesa.

Her name was Riesa. She looked down at her body, her smooth skin, fat breasts, big round hips. She looked a lot like the rubber doll (husk) who had sauntered by (of course she did, she was a husk too), only not as much, not as pronounced. Her body wasn’t quite the same (was the same).

Her mind was piecing the framework back together now. She was Riesa, she had come here with a purpose, she was both a husk and not a husk. A slave—and something else.

She would see the stars now.

Riesa walked forward, calmly, quietly. She reached up to touch the membrane and it opened; beyond it were the stars.

It was a hallway. One wall was a window, a long strip of star-dappled darkness. Riesa stepped out into the hall and turned slowly in place, looking around. To her left, the corridor curved away. To her right, it sloped down into a large room, a room with many hallways leaving in different directions. Staring, stiff-backed women (drones) were walking slowly and purposefully into and out of the corridors.

Riesa (husk) turned around to face down the left-hand corridor. That way. That way lay her purpose.

She walked. She didn’t know what she was looking for but she was looking for something, her memories seemed clear on that. So she walked. To her right, the stars hovered silently.

The corridor ended at a membrane. She touched it open.

It was... a hangar bay.

Riesa (husk) blinked.

The knowledge of what the room in front of her was jarred her thoughts, shook them, and suddenly they clicked together, fell into place. The husk thoughts, disconnected, floated quietly; the Riesa thoughts snapped into a familiar framework.

She wanted to escape.

It was all suddenly coming together, the native memories waking up. She was Riesa McCort. The slugbugs (Hive) were holding her captive, she was trying to escape-

Riesa shook her head. She looked down at her body.

The tube had half-dolled her.

Her mind was still full of thoughts that the tube had put there. Slave thoughts. Submission, obedience, and the central, all-encompassing need to serve the Hive. Her mind was awash in husk-thought; only the fact that husks were passive, totally obedient, kept those thoughts from activating, turning on.

Riesa shook her head—even inactive they were stuffing up her mind, confusing her. She’d have to get rid of them, sort through them...

As the floating pieces of her personality continued to snap together, Riesa looked around the room.

One wall, the inner wall, was a long concave curve, dotted with membrane-doors on at least three levels. The other wall... was space. Something, some field or something, kept the atmosphere from blasting out into the void.

Riesa felt herself speculating as to what technology the Omphalids were using to keep the air in the hangar, and her mouth crooked ever so slightly into a smile as she realized that she was actually thinking again, thinking like herself. The husk programming was still there, but she could ignore it, work around it.

She could do this.

Riesa stepped into the hangar and the membrane flicked shut behind her. They must be on a spire, a projection out away from the center of the hive, that allowed Riesa’s feet to be on the floor yet space to be in front of her. The point of the spire was ‘down’, and the hangar entrance was looking out ‘sideways’. And sure enough, as she watched, Riesa could see the starfield very slowly sliding away to her right.

She felt dizzy for a moment and clutched at the wall, then stared at her arm. It was pink—well, pinker, not candy-pink like a true husk—but what startled her was how strong she felt. She deliberately flexed her muscles and her arm practically went solid.

Riesa had always been fit—even more so than mandated by service guidelines—but this was different. The very composition of her muscles seemed to have changed.

She flexed her legs; it was the same, her round thighs smooth and soft-looking but concealing inhumanly solid muscle. On the outside, she looked soft and voluptuous—but Riesa suddenly felt like she could bend a girder.

Riesa stared at her hands as she opened and closed them. Perhaps it wasn’t all bad, getting half-husked.

Quickly, she scanned the hangar bay floor. There were a dozen ships present: slugbug ships, fleshy whorls that looked like giant seed pods. Half-husked or no, there was no way for Riesa to use the biological interfaces that piloted those vessels. She had seen Omphalid pilots—they had bodies grown for the purpose, and plugged directly into their ships.

But on the far side of the hangar, beyond those, were the squared-off edges of spaceships which had been built, not grown. Two of them. Human.

One of them she even knew how to fly.

The membrane behind her flexed open and Riesa flinched, but the nude human slave who walked by her did not so much as glance her way. Still, she needed to get moving, to get to the ships before one of those centurions (motives) in the gelsuits (sheaths) happened by, and noticed that Riesa wasn’t part of the collective yet.

Pink, but not pink enough; and her skin tone wasn’t what would give her away.

There was a ramp nearby; trying not to hurry, Riesa strolled down it and out onto the hangar floor.

It was busy. Human slaves moved purposefully around, connecting and disconnecting disturbingly biological components to the oblong, seed-like ships. Pulsing tubes ran from the floor and connected to the seed-ships in many places; Bulbs rising from the floor split open; nude women picked up the cylindrical pods inside and carried them over to the ships, inserting them carefully into orifices which opened to receive them.

They were being refueled and rearmed.

Riesa passed a nude woman squatting beneath a seed-ship. The woman took hold of a leg-thick tentacle and tugged it loose; a ring of gelatinous slime oozed from the orifice it pulled free from.

Then Riesa was past the seed-ships and approaching the two human ships. Thankfully, no one was near them. One was a Venganza-class armed transport, a bulky—and armed—in-system ship. Unfortunately, there was nothing human left in-system to escape to.

But the other vessel was a Boston-class scout vessel. Light, maneuverable, barely armed—but the only part which really mattered: the Boston-class had jump engines.

Jumping near a station was a bad idea. Even a station’s minute gravitational pull could throw off one’s destination by light years.

Riesa snorted at how little she cared.

As she approached Riesa was pleased to see that the ship appeared to be in good shape. She had flown Amherst-class scouts in training and she had little doubt that she could pilot this one out of here; assuming that it had its core, assuming that its electronics worked, assuming that the slugbug hangar field allowed ships to pass through where air did not.

She walked up to it. The ‘Aphros’, it was called, the name slightly faded. There was still dried slime around the hatch and in crusty patches on the hull from when the slugbugs had taken her.

The hatch was closed. Riesa turned slowly in place, looking around the hangar. Could she slip inside without being seen? She had to go back for Gwendoline and Cerise, but she really ought to check if the Aphros was still space-worthy; there might be insufficient power to start the core, in which case-

Riesa shivered and looked upward.

She had felt it in her mind: a signal. A message. General, thankfully, not aimed at her specifically, but it was eerie (and yet, felt so very right) to have her mind actually... touched, by the Hive.

Something was entering the hangar. All of the drones—and Riesa—had stopped what they were doing and were now looking at the entrance. There was a flash of light, motion, and then a ship flew in.

A human ship.

Typhoon-class, war picket. An armed to the teeth, in-system fighter—but clearly captured now. The missile racks were empty, the surface blotted with slime, a row of glistening green head-sized pods adhered across one side. It hovered for a moment, and then slowly flew directly towards Riesa.

Oh shit. Of course they would land it over here.

She turned to try and find somewhere to hide but they were already approaching: centurions, nude women hovering a half-meter above the floor, wrapped in their sheaths, hurrying towards her with a strange digigrade stride. Three of them.

Riesa just... stood there.

The centurions stopped in a line abreast and the ship gingerly lowered itself to the deck in front of them.

The rushing air stopped; the noise of the engines died.

The ship’s hatch swung open, and Riesa heard the clank of magboots.

A woman hopped down from the hatch onto the floor of the hangar. She was in full combat armor, but her helmet was off and attached to the top of her head was a bright green bubble, about the size of an apple.

She faced the centurions.

“I am Lance Captain Deliah S’riss,” she said in a flat voice. “I surrender. I give myself to the Hive.”

“You will come with me,” one of the sheathed guards told her.

“Yes. I must obey,” the woman replied.

The guard led the woman away, and another woman stepped up, and hopped down out of the ship. Her magboots squelched on the hangar’s fleshy gray floor.

“I am Flight Lieutenant Himiko Goto,” she said in monotone. The green bubble atop her head glistened. “I surrender. I give myself to the Hive.”

“You will come with me,” a second centurion said.

“Yes. I will obey.”

As the second woman was led away, human drones began to approach the ship. Many of them carried tools, human tools, and Riesa saw a floor-bulb open up to reveal metal fuel canisters. Nude women impassively began to gather them up.

This was her chance. In the hubbub around securing the new ship, she could slip inside-

“How fascinating,” came a pleasant voice from behind Riesa. “You are husk, yet not-husk.”

Riesa turned, slowly.

The centurion (motive) looked down at her with a smile and a distant look in her eyes. “You can’t hear me, can you?” she asked. Her voice sounded odd, as though she was unfamiliar with speaking.

Strong as she was, she had no chance against the woman in the sheath. Riesa remained silent.

The woman smiled again. “It’s all right. You will understand, soon enough. We shall be sisters.”

The needle barely stung her shoulder.

Swimming darkness, the beat of an enormous heart...

Then there was light, and a familiar face.

She stared through a sliding blur at the woman in front of her. Pretty, very pretty, with short dark hair and freckles across her nose. She seemed... familiar...

She tried to speak but her mouth was full of slime. She squeezed it out, but more welled up from within her; a cough brought forth a gush of the stuff, as did a second, and then she was coughing uncontrollably and gasping in air and coating her swollen breasts with ropes of thick clear gel.

The gel spattered off onto the fleshy gray floor as she bent over, fighting for air. Her legs, her feet, seemed... pinker than the other woman’s.

The other woman took gentle hold of her shoulders and helped her back upright. She had beautiful dark brown eyes, familiar eyes. In one hand she held a dark red blob. She looked at it, pressed against her shoulder: a swatch of leathery red skin. It reminded her of something, some other time...

Cerise. The woman was Cerise.

Then who was...?

“Riesa?” Cerise said.

Riesa. Yes.

“I...” hissed from her lips. She blinked. “Yes, I...”

She looked around at the room surrounding the beautiful naked brunette. It was fleshy, gray-green, and very small...

Her cell.

She was back in her cell.

Her mind was blurry, somehow over-full. She had been here before, with Cerise. But then... what?

“Cerise,” Riesa said, raising her arms. “Oh, Cerise, I—”

Cerise thrust forward and kissed her.

Riesa was startled for a moment, then melted into the kiss, arms rising to wrap around Cerise’s lower back. Kiss, kiss, a third kiss. Their lips clung for a long moment and then Cerise pulled back to focal distance.

“Riesa, I am so heureuse you are back,” Cerise said. “We followed you down the tube—we saw you getting out of the slime, and leaving, and your body... transformed...”

Riesa looked down and a strange feeling swam up her spine. Her breasts were heavy, fat, larger they were supposed to be. Her hips were swollen and round, smooth; and her skin...

...was pink.

The tube. It had dolled her.

No, not ‘dolled’. Husked.

Riesa looked aside, took a step back. She remembered now: the tube had done this to her.

The tube.

The pleasure.

Cerise was staring at her, so Riesa looked down at herself again.

Her tits were so... big.

Not ridiculous melons like the husks she had seen emerging from the pool, but these weren’t on someone else. They were on her. Part of her body. Riesa reached up to touch them. They were so... big.

Cerise’s mouth was open as her eyes ran up and down Riesa’s body. “You are like them now,” she said, her accent turning the word into ‘zem’. “You are... erotic. Sexy.”

Riesa looked at her. “I feel... sexy,” she admitted. She did; her whole body felt flushed, aroused. She wanted to kiss Cerise again, badly. Wanted to kiss her mouth, suck on her much more normal sized breasts, and then tongue deep into her cunt.

Riesa swallowed.

“How do you... do you think?” Cerise asked. “Are you okay?”

She hesitated. Was she okay? She could remember standing outside the pool, her mind swirling with slavethought. Slavethought which was still there, filling her mind, quiet but very much present.

She was a slave. She was a doll. She would obey.

Those thoughts were true, and strong, but... quiet. They weren’t part of her identity. At least, not right now. She was still herself.

“I think I am,” she answered. “They filled my head with... thoughts...”

“I know,” Cerise said, nodding. “I know.”

Of course she did. Riesa had pulled the tube from Cerise’s brain-

“There’s a ship,” she blurted.

Cerise blinked. “What?”

Yes, she remembered now. She had gone through the tube and been turned into... well, this—been husked—partially—but at the other end, there had been:

“A hangar. And a ship. Cerise,” Riesa said, taking hold of the other woman’s shoulders, the memories slotting themselves together in her overstuffed brain, “I can get us out of here. I can fly us out.”

Cerise stared at her, and then pressed in for a kiss, a long kiss, their arms enfolding each other and tongues entwining hungrily...

She had to stop for air. Licking her lips, savoring Cerise’s taste, Riesa wanted desperately to slip downward and feed on Cerise’s pussy, but she also wanted, also wanted... to get out. Escape. If they could all get to the ship, they could...

Riesa’s looked around the small chamber. “Where’s Gwendoline?”

Cerise’s eyes flicked aside. “She... Riesa, she went after you.”

“What?”

“We saw you get out of the pool, and then you walked away, and then we waited. And waited. Gwendoline found us some water and some... some things we could eat, but you did not come back. Finally she decided to go after you—only a little while ago. One hours, maybe. I came back here to check a last time before I went too, and suddenly you were here.”

Gwendoline was gone. Into the tube.

But...

“An hour?” Riesa asked.

Cerise nodded.

“I can go after her. We can both go after her. And then we can all escape.”

“No.” Cerise shook her head. “You mustn’t! You just woke up again; and you...” her eyes traveled down along Riesa’s swollen flesh, “...the tube has done this to you. If you go back into it now, so soon... You must find your self first, put your hands back onto your identity, before you expose yourself to it again.” She looked aside. “I know... I know what it is like.”

Cerise was right. But- an hour. If she entered the tube now, Riesa would catch up to Gwendoline. Cerise would be right behind her. The three of them could steal that ship.

Yes, her thoughts were becoming clearer. If she could hold onto her purpose, if she could cling to her self as she went down the tube again, then she could get out, they could all get out, could get Gwendoline, get to the ship... and escape.

More importantly, she could experience the tube again.

Her body thrilled at the thought and Riesa moaned involuntarily. Cerise stepped close, concern in her eyes, and Riesa looked into them.

Two heartbeats, and then Riesa started kissing her again.

Cerise responded eagerly, kissing back, pushing their bodies together, the breathing gel slick between them.

“I’m sorry,” Riesa gasped, pulling back. “I know you’re not—”

“I need you,” Cerise growled, pushing her back against the wall. “You are so... I need... I need you to fuck me. I need to fuck you.” She kissed Riesa fiercely and gripped and squeezed her swollen, fat breasts. Riesa moaned and closed her eyes.

She opened them to see a desperate hunger in Cerise’s eyes. Riesa took hold of her shoulders, pushed her back half a step.

Then Riesa slowly dropped to her knees, drawing her thick, pinkish gray nipples down Cerise’s shuddering torso, until she was kneeling on the floor, and she looked up at Cerise and gripped her waist with strong hands.

Cerise stared breathlessly down at her. “Please,” she said. “Yes. Please.”

Riesa started in with a gentle lick.

Riesa stared downward at her sweaty, swollen breasts.

Cerise sat next to her, almost touching, panting.

“That was,” the dark-haired woman slurred, “Wonderful. I never... wonderful.”

It had been wonderful. Fireworks and thunderbolts. Yet Riesa—Riesa’s new body—was still ready to go, was eager for more sex. Something wet and licking at her cunt, her own mouth latched on and feeding...

She wanted the tube.

Those drone women, greasing up her breasts... Riesa groaned.

She was a slave. She would obey.

She groaned again.

The tube. So much pleasure.

“Riesa? What is it that you are thinking?”

Riesa turned to look at Cerise, her deep dark eyes. She had never been a lesbian. Was she now? Was it permanent? Or just temporary conditioning?

What the tube had done to Riesa... it was permanent. Without even realizing, her hands cupped her breasts and gently squeezed, and she moaned softly.

Would her mind be able to survive another trip through the tube?

Did she care?

“Stay here,” Cerise said. “We must wait for Gwendoline. Wait for her to come back. There is water, we can hide here until we all are ready. What they have done to you...” her eyes licked down Riesa’s slick form. Her voice dropped. “Wonderful... but...” she whispered.

Riesa wanted to lick her. To suck on her tongue.

Once she was dolled...

“No,” Riesa said. She pushed herself upward. “No. We have to go. Now is our best chance. Maybe our only chance.”

Cerise’s brow furrowed. “But... can you... can you do this? Again? Will you be able to act on the other side?”

“I will,” Riesa said, with as much confidence as she could muster. She knew what was coming. She knew what the tube was, what it did.

How it felt.

She had to do it again. Needed it, again.

She could hold onto her identity. Her will. She could, she would.

And even if not... the tube felt so good.

Her slick skin shuddered again.

“We have to hurry,” she said. “Gwendoline must be well down the tube by now.”

Cerise stared up at her with worry in her eyes, then nodded. “I will... I will follow you.”

Riesa nodded. She turned around and dropped to her knees, hunted for the weak spot in the wall. Behind her she knew that Cerise was staring at her swollen, round ass, at the slick pussy nestled between her legs. She could crawl backwards, feed it to Cerise...

But the tube was better.

Riesa found the greenish color and pushed her probing fingers into the wall.

She forced her way through the wall and into the low antechamber. She almost expected to find Gwendoline on the other side of the membrane, eyes closed, sliding slowly down the tube, but there was nothing within the clear flesh but the empty tube interior.

Cerise pushed out through the wall, joined her in the low room. Riesa waited until Cerise looked up, then squatted beneath the weakness in the ceiling and slowly pushed herself upward through it.

They passed upward through the next antechamber, and into the curved room at the top.

The mouth room.

Riesa’s heart was thudding as she peered around the wall to face the tube’s mouth.

There were no dolls there. It was open. It was ready for her.

Somehow, she waited for Cerise. When the dark-haired woman—hair slicked back from passing through the walls—arrived a moment later, Riesa turned to face her. She opened her mouth to say something, but the words sublimated on her tongue.

Cerise kissed her.

Their tongues slipped across each other, enfolded each other, and then Cerise pulled her mouth away.

“Go,” she breathed. “I will follow.”

Riesa, skin tingling, pussy smoldering, nodded and turned away.

The mouth.

Eagerly, Riesa walked into it. She turned around and waited for it to claim her.

She wanted it so much.

The fleshy talons touched her skin and her breath rattled. They slid up under her armpits, taking hold of her shoulders; and down along the top of her skull. Two of them slid like high-waisted bikini straps down across her hipbones, pointing toward her open, eager sex.

The little tentacles wrapped around her knees, her ankles, spreading her legs, opening her pelvis.

And then it rose into view, the flat-topped phallus, seeping some clear fluid from the tip. Riesa stared down at it, eager, hungry, ready, welcoming.

“Take me,” she whispered. “I’m yours.”

It rose unhurriedly, and she whined when it touched her wet sexlips. It slid smoothly upward, spreading her, penetrating her, slimy and thick, filling her like a hand sliding into a glove.

Her hips began to twitch and she groaned, her eyes rolling back. She came helplessly, juddering in the grip of the talons, and gasped as the phallus kept sliding in, filling her, stuffing her up.

Finally, it stopped.

The lips began to close and Riesa looked up with glazed eyes. Time for pleasure. Infinite pleasure. Her face was blissed out, her mind already soft and open.

She saw Cerise standing there. Her hands were at her sides, her face expressionless. She didn’t seem envious, or concerned... or like she was thinking at all. She stared blankly as Riesa began her descent.

The shaft in her cunt trembled and pulsed.

Blissfully, Riesa surrendered all thought.

Was it better than before? Possibly, but the pleasure was so great that comparison was meaningless. Her new flesh sang with bliss, her stuffed pussy was a molten radiance of joy. Her fat tits ached with need, and even the ache was ecstasy.

She slid downward, her entire body a nova of pleasure.

The shaft in her cunt pulsed, and her mind obediently went blank.

Like a bubble rising through glycerin, Riesa’s awareness returned. Hands. Hands on her body, squeezing her tits, stroking her belly, slipping down her thighs. Wall-eyed women stroking the slime into her skin, massaging, kneading... then fingertips slipped astride her bulging sexlips and gently squeezed and the bubble popped, all thoughts vanishing as the orgasm came.

Vaguely, she realized she was in the shaft now, the clear flesh-walls gripping her face, her tits, her swollen thighs. Her skin felt wonderfully tight, full, young. Her mind felt as though it were sunk in honey, slow and ponderous—and unnecessary.

There was a ripple in her cunt and she blissfully went back under.

In her ears again, little tendrils, whispers, programming. Her soft mind eagerly fed on whatever was being piped into it, letting it deep inside, accepting it, submitting.

Yes. New thoughts for a new husk.

The shaft pulsed. Her brain slept.

The husk stood quietly.

Her skin still glistened with the white slime of the exit pool. Her hands hung lightly next to her wide-curved hips. Her face was blank, mindless.

The husk waited to obey.

Another husk emerged from the pool, rose and stood next to the first husk. The second husk was even more distended, her breasts ridiculous glistening orbs on her chest, her skin not a candy-pink like the skin of the first husk but instead a butter yellow, her nipples a teak brown. Her eyes were featureless white orbs.

The eyes of the first husk were similar, but not entirely featureless. There were irises there, but bleached of color, gray patterns on the glossy white of the eyeball.

The second husk remained motionless a moment longer, then walked away.

The first husk waited for command.

She knew that Hive should instruct her. She was a husk and had no will; Hive’s will would command her. She waited for it to instruct her so that she could obey.

But instructions did not come.

The husk turned inward. There was something else in her mind, some presence... a presence constructed of memory, memories that had not yet been siphoned from the husk’s mind. The husk had little use for memories; all that she needed to know would be placed into her mind by Hive.

But Hive was silent, so the husk gingerly examined the memories.

Riesa.

She had been—was?—a human, named Riesa.

Then, slowly, the memories stirred. They moved, turned, began to assemble themselves. It surprised husk, who found herself slightly worried, and then was taken aback at her own ability to worry.

What was she?

Was she... Riesa?

No, she was a husk. Riesa was... Riesa...

She was Riesa. She was a husk but she was Riesa. The memories pushed at her, insistent, and the husk did not know how to resist them, or even if she should. She waited for command from Hive but command did not come...

No! I am not a husk! I am Riesa!

The husk’s legs wobbled and she stepped sideways. It was- she was- she... she...

Riesa put her hands to her head, looked down at herself.

Her tits were enormous.

She looked around. There was the slime pool, filled with whitish goop. She had come from there, had come through the... the tube...

She wanted to go back into the tube again.

Yes, the tube.

No, no she... she had something else. Thought something else. There was a purpose, a reason, something she could obey...

Escape.

Her head swam. She was Riesa McCort, she was human, she wanted to... wanted to... escape! Yes, that was it. She had come through the tube to escape, there was a ship...

Gwendoline.

Cerise.

Riesa turned and was immediately distracted by her body. It felt... good. Extremely good. Taut, firm, and the skin of her entire body felt... aroused. She was ready for sex. Ready to obey, to service. To please.

Riesa raised her arm. Pink, she was pink now. And—strong. She flexed her arm and was shocked at the feeling of strength, the sense that she could bend steel bars or punch through a metal wall.

She could fight, or labor—she could serve. Her body had been rebuilt to obey.

But... why so oversexualized? Her thighs could propel her across a chasm but they were also smooth and rounded like the dodgiest sort of sex-doll.

Riesa rallied herself. Irrelevant. It didn’t have to make sense. She could keep the husk programming pushed aside, she could gather up her friends (lovers), she could escape this place.

That was the plan. Riesa would obey the plan.

No! She would... fulfill the plan.

Where was Cerise?

There was a ripple in the exit pool and Riesa’s hopes rose, but the woman that emerged was a fully-converted husk, eyes featureless, body an identical pink to Riesa’s own. That other husk had been yellow, Riesa remembered, why was that?

What would she do if Cerise did not emerge?

What if this husk was Cerise? Had she been somehow more completely processed? Was she already nothing more than a mindless, self-less slave?

Riesa could do that. Could go back again. Another trip through the tube (yes, yes!) and she would obey forever.

Her foot had already taken a step towards the membrane.

It dilated open.

A slender, nude woman stood beyond it.

Gwendoline!

Riesa took another automatic step forward and froze, suddenly ashamed. She was a husk, a pink sex doll. Gwendoline looked normal, beautiful... how could Riesa approach her? Be with her? How could she escape looking like this?

How did Gwendoline not look at all... pink?

Gwendoline smiled and walked daintily into the room, right over to Riesa.

“Oh, Riesa,” she said gaily, “you’re almost complete!”

“G-Gwen—” Riesa’s voice was unsteady.

“Shh, shh. I’m here. Everything’s okay.” She came close and embraced Riesa, and suddenly Riesa wanted to please her, to kneel and service her; it was an almost overwhelming compulsion and Riesa felt her knees weaken, ready to lower her down.

“You feel really nice, Riesa,” Gwen whispered.

Riesa shook her head, trying to clear it. “Gwen there’s a... there’s a ship. I can fly. We can escape, we just, just, need Cerise...”

Gwendoline canted her head. “We need Cerise?” She released Riesa and took a step backward. “Well, that’s easy enough!” She snapped her fingers.

Behind Gwen, Cerise stepped through the membrane and into the room.

“Riesa needs us, Cerise,” Gwendoline told her.

Her face expressionless, Cerise stopped next to Gwendoline. “How shall I obey?” she asked.

Riesa looked at them, baffled, head turning from one to another.

“Cerise,” Gwendoline said, “Riesa here needs to finish her husking. So why don’t you help me take her back up to the intake?”

“Yes, Mistress,” Cerise replied. “I will obey.”

Riesa looked from one to the other. “But she’s... you...” she stammered.

Gwendoline stepped forward. “Don’t worry, love. Everything will be made clear. But for now,” and she slipped her hands on either side of Riesa’s head, forcing Riesa to stare directly into her eyes, “you simply must obey me.“

The command seized hold of the husk’s brain. “Yes,” she said, “I must obey you.”

Gwendoline’s eyes bored into her. “You are a slave.”

“I am a... slave.”

“You must obey.”

“I must obey.”

“Obey me now.”

“Yes,” Riesa-husk nodded, “I will obey you now.”

Grinning, Gwendoline released her head. “Good! Follow me,” she said, and began walking away. “You too, Cerise.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Cerise replied.

Gwendoline stepped lightly across the threshold. Riesa and Cerise followed.

She was a husk and she must obey.

She was Riesa and she needed to escape.

But every time she had that idea, she came back to... Gwendoline.

She couldn’t—didn’t want to—escape without Gwendoline. And Gwendoline was being mind controlled by the Omphalids.

Like Riesa was.

Her legs kept her walking.

They walked up a curving corridor, past nude women who walked by them mindlessly, wordlessly. Just like Gwendoline. Just like Cerise.

Had they... had they always been this way? Was Riesa the only one with a mind of her own?

“Wh-when... ?” she spluttered.

Gwendoline looked over her shoulder. “Still thinking in there, Riesa? Well, it won’t do any harm to tell you what’s going on.”

Gwendoline paused in front of a membrane, stroked it with a fingertip, and it nictated open. “Go in,” she said.

“Yes, Mistress,” Cerise replied. Riesa remained silent but obediently stepped through the portal.

It was another corridor, level this time. The air seemed somehow more humid.

“This is actually all just a test, Riesa. A test of a new system.”

There was another membrane on the side of the corridor. It opened as Cerise drew near.

“Our masters have encountered... setbacks,” Gwendoline said as Cerise stepped through. She tossed up a hand. “We had thought that we had broken the human worlds’ will, that they lay ripe for assimilation.”

Riesa turned to step into the next room. Her body thrilled when she recognized it.

The entrance to the tube.

She had stopped in the doorway and Gwendoline came up from behind her and put her arm around Riesa’s shoulder, whispered into her ear.

“This will be the final time, Riesa. Your body has been sufficiently adapted. This time the Hive will draw out all of your memories and absorb everything that had been you, and make it part of us.”

Riesa stood on the threshold.

Gwendoline slid her hands down and squeezed Riesa’s buttocks.

“Don’t resist, love. It’s your destiny. Join me. We’ll all be slaves together.”

The room was unoccupied save for Cerise, standing placidly to one side.

“C-cerise?” Riesa asked.

“She’s obedient now,” Gwendoline said. “She was enslaved... differently from us. Kind of a shame, really, her memory and personality remain locked in that body, but the Hive can afford the sacrifice of the memory and skills of one human teacher.” She pushed her breasts into Riesa’s back. “But you, the brilliant tactician, the leader... we need to know what you know. We need your mind. Be one with us.”

Riesa shuddered. One foot slipped backwards into the hallway.

“Oh, for pity’s sake,” Gwendoline snapped. “Slave, I command you. Walk over there and submit yourself to processing.”

“I must obey,” Riesa-husk replied, and walked across the room.

She was too far gone. She couldn’t control it. Couldn’t control herself. Her remodeled mind thirsted for command, yearned to obey, and when Gwendoline spoke like that, obeying her was the only thing Riesa could do.

And going through the tube again...

It was what Riesa most desired.

She reached the orifice on the far wall and the lips came open to greet her. Riesa looked into the dark space between them and felt herself turning around.

The memory of the pleasure she was about to experience ran hot fingers up and down her rubberized flesh.

The talons slid across her skin, slipped beneath her armpits, wrapped around her shoulders. They closed gently but irresistibly atop her head and around her hips.

“As I was saying,” Gwendoline interjected.

She stood next to Cerise, who continued to stare blankly across the room. Gwendoline was touching her body, cupping her breasts, stroking a hand across the downy fur over Cerise’s sex.

“We thought that the humans were ripe for assimilation. Helpless.”

The tentacles had emerged and slipped around Riesa’s knees and ankles; slowly, they pulled her legs apart.

She did not resist.

“Dashkasan,” Gwen was saying. “Human world, three hundred millions. There were two hundred hives assigned to Dashkasan, hives which would land and assimilate the entire human population. The Kharkut Collective’s fleet had been destroyed, there was no resistance they could offer.”

The phallus rose into view, flat-headed, enormous, seeping slime. Riesa whimpered with joy. It was inevitable, now—and oh, how she wanted it. Dimly, she felt that she ought to ‘go down fighting’, to resist, no matter how futile—but she wasn’t going to.

Riesa wanted this. More than anything.

Gwendoline was still speaking. “And then the fleets arrived. The Wu Federation. New Nairobi. Tsulavda. Fifteen human political entities, all of them historically unfriendly to their neighbors from Kharkut.”

The phallus pushed against Riesa’s sex and she strained unnecessarily to open herself, moaning in pleasure as it pushed its way in. Her voice quavered into high notes as the thickness slid in, and in, and in.

“Now there are two hundred lifeless ruins adrift in the Dashkasan system. Had more of us been slaves, perhaps our masters would have anticipated it.” Gwendoline shrugged. “No matter.”

Finally, the phallus was entirely within her, and the lips around Riesa’s body began to close.

“We won’t come from the skies. We won’t land giant factories on the humans’ worlds, to convert them into us. No. We’ll seduce them, infiltrate them. We’ve done it before. This—you—are a test run, Riesa. Thrice through the husking tube and you’re ours, ready to be recreated as an obedient human clone as soon as we wish. Our agents can grow these tubes on the human worlds in a fortnight, in secret, and feed them with as many people as... well, as possible. Dashkasan will be ours. All worlds will be ours.”

Riesa was staring at Gwen, but she wasn’t listening. Gwen’s eyes slid up from Riesa’s bulging pussy, to look at her face, and she gave a wistful smile.

“Good bye, Riesa. You’ve been a lovely guinea pig.”

Then it was dark.