The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“There it is. I fucking knew it!”

Terry barely registered Amy’s eureka moment as he was still reeling from the wash of animal arousal that had blasted out from the epicenter of his engorged extremity. Apparently he wasn’t the only one who felt it either; all four titanic women crowding the living space had fallen to hands and knees, and were now eyeing him like stalking wildcats.

“Wha—what was that?” He groaned, feeling a confusing mix of lightheadedness and billy goat randiness. “And where does it keep coming from?”

“It’s you, Tiger. Bernie and I both felt it through the floor this morning.” Amy murmured thoughtfully, her gaze fixed like superglue to his massive, throbbing member. “Some part of you is calling to us…”

“The biggest, most beautiful part of you.” Bernie agreed huskily, crawling around in front to rub her cute nose and cheeks against his angry knob. The damn thing was the size and color of a candy apple.

“I’ve been meaning to address this ‘beautiful’ business concerning my dick…” Terry lifted a finger for attention before Miss Gwendoline interrupted him as she joined the face-stropping blonde.

“It’s more than simply beautiful, Bernice.” The cinnamon-haired MILF corrected, peppering kisses along the girthy shaft. She was going to be at it for a bit if she intended to smooch his entire length. “Terrence’s big boy cock is strikingly gorgeous at the very least.”

Terry lowered his raised digit and concluded that he needed to work on timing his arguments better. Like, maybe not when his man pole was weaving and waving out in the wind. That one was on him.

“The point I am trying to make is that it emits some sort of psionic pulse… or maybe pull is the better word for it.” Amy mused, quickly regaining her grip on Fiona’s flowing, ginger ponytail as the young yoga bunny tried to dart past her on all fours to get at Terry. “Either way it is drawing us to you as though it has a psychic gravity all of its own.”

“Are you saying that our Stud’s donkey dick is magic?” Bernie slurred, tonguing his dilated slit and gathering up the creamy spend drooling out of it. “Because I could have told you that yesterday. For free. Gratis.”

“I felt it in my office yesterday too.” Miss Gwendoline, chimed in between phallic kisses. “Somehow I knew then that Terrence had the giant cock I had been searching for my entire life.”

“Cock… cock…” Fiona blurted, her small chin pulled up as she strained at Amy’s hold like a dog on a leash. “Why won’t you gimme that capital D already?”

“Such a greedy girl.” Amy rebuked, leaning back to land a crisp slap on the redhead’s pert rear and making her yelp. “Be patient. You’ll get all you can handle and more soon enough.”

Realization began to dawn on Terry even as a feral lust boiled the blood in his arteries like a shot of nitro into a revving engine.

“Wait, Baby, you were planning for this?” He gasped, even as Bernie practically unhinged her jaw to suck in his corpulent crown. “Then why did you send me and Bernie away this morning? You had to know we wouldn’t find anything at the store.”

Amy grinned wolfishly, like a comic book villain about to launch into their practiced monologue. “Know? No… but I suspected there wasn’t anything to find there. Your strange gift had affected me before you ever left for work that morning. That was why I came home early, remember? I sent you back to EzyWay Electronics to give me time to test a theory on this teasing brat and to collect her.”

She nodded her head towards Miss Gwendoline whose tongue was lashing wet lines over Terry’s veiny shaft as she pulled at her hard rubbery nips through the torn black mesh top draped across her huge perfect tits.

“We’re going to need her sharp business mind and cut-throat negotiating skills to make my plan work, Tiger.” Amy continued smugly, slowly allowing Fiona to tug the two of them closer like an angler letting out line for a hooked trout. “I did say she had a crush on you.”

“Well if she didn’t before, she certainly does now.” Terry groaned as the upscaled size-queen in question jostled with Bernie for the prized position, lip-locked around his bulbous tip. “Care to share the rest of your grand, machiavellian scheme, Love?”

“Certainly.” His brilliant, beautiful fiance beamed with pride as her smoky eyes burned with hedonistic desire centered entirely on him. “From what I can tell from initial testing, your ejaculate—”

“Wondercum! We should call it Wondercum!” Bernie exclaimed excitedly through sticky lips, before realizing she had relinquished her place of pride on his monster dick for Miss Gwendoline to steal the cum-sucking lead. “Hey, no fair. I was busy contributing…”

“Your ejaculate makes women stronger, healthier and more robust.” Amy continued, ignoring the pouting blonde’s sordid suggestion. “I’m beginning to believe it heightens intrinsic personality traits and natural talents too. I swear my critical thinking has never been clearer and Bernie is obviously getting more bawdy by the mouthful.”

“Bigger too, you can’t ignore that.” Terry panted as the two amazonian knockouts began hungrily making out around his raging knob. Their moist pink tongues wrestling for each precious drop of his pearly precum. “People are going to notice a group of WNBA-sized women with the bodies of Victoria Secret models strutting down the sidewalk.”

“Mmmnnph~... That’s free advertising. Word of mouth promotion.” Miss Gwendoline said, swallowing thickly and coming up for a breath of fresh air. “Grassroots marketing for sustainable small business growth, given the bottleneck in the supply chain. Namely you, Terrence.”

Terry wasn’t sure his business could be described as small by any rational standard but he understood her meaning in the given context.

Meanwhile, Bernie had resumed trying to shove his unmanageable size down her ecstatic esophagus. Apparently, her gag reflex had waved bon voyage some time in the last two days as she forced him down her slender, bulging neck.

”Ack, glurp, ack~!”

“What about me?” Fiona wailed, being pulled to a stop less than a foot away from Terry’s enormous erection. “I’m part of this now, right? The big and tall Sisterhood of Terry’s massive meat stick? I can help! You can’t give me a taste of that magical spunk then cut me out of the deal.”

”Mlurk~ Wondercum…” Bernie insisted, resurfacing from her throaty deep dive and energetically jacking Terry’s magnitude towards her own, adorably pretty face. “Everybody try saying it with me; Won-der-cum. It rolls off the tongue.”

“It sure does.” Amy smirked, reaching down to give Fiona’s tight butt another swat. “But it seems like our little tease here doesn’t much like the taste of her own medicine. Tell me, neighbor, how do you think you can help us? Then maybe, just maybe, I’ll let you sample my man.”

The squawking redhead was anything but little now, except when compared to the present company. She would have easily surpassed Terry’s six feet if she were standing. As she was—shuddering desperately on her hands and knees—Fiona’s bunched shoulders and phenomenal denim-clad ass came up to his waist.

Almost big enough to mount up and ride about like a ginger-maned pony… or just plain ride her.

“Whoa!” Bernie exclaimed, as an exceptionally heavy jet of his manseed plastered her rosy cheeks and glued an eyelid shut. “Are you getting worked up or what, Stud? I fucking love it. Gimme some more of that Wonder—urk!”

Her spluttering jubilations were cut off abruptly when Gwendoline attacked her jizz-painted face. The mature MILF fervently licking and vacuuming the sticky spend off the tip of her nose and plump, cock-bruised lips.

“An online presence, ummm… social marketing!” Fiona babbled, her watering emerald eyes locked on all the lewd action taking place around Terry’s belt-line. “Workout TikToks with Bernie and I. Fashion and glamor shots of you and Miss Gwen on Insta. Smoking hot snapshots on all the different Books and Tubes and Fansites. I know them all, please!”

“Hm, sounds risky.” Amy’s brows knitted in consideration as she gave the lithe redhead another playful tussle. “That would be a lot of exposure…”

“Mexico. We all head to Mexico.” Fiona moaned, “My parents are loaded. They have a holiday getaway on the beach in Bahia San Agustin. It’s private, out of the way, available, and please… Amy, pull on my hair and spank me again!”

“Well, it’s not as much fun when you ask for it, but I do like the idea of a Mexican sea-change for a honeymoon vacation. It’s got all the amenities and luxuries, you promise?”

Terry never dreamed he would see a day when his gorgeous fiance would collar the sexy brat-next-door with such a deft hand. His enraged cock was bucking like a bronco, and spitting like a camel, all over Bernie and Miss Gwendoline’s ecstatic faces, exposed necks and bulging chests.

The two statuesque mega-babes giggled and gasped, pressing into one another and leaning their heads together as Terry showered them in his profusive cream. They opened their hungry mouths and rubbed the gooey spend into each other’s bare skin like lotion, pulling at cum-drenched clothing to reach the luscious flesh beneath.

“Everything we could want, I swear.” Fiona yelped as Amy smacked her taut derriere again, then moaned when she rubbed the reddening cheek with a tender touch. “I’ll just tell Mommy and Daddy that I’m taking a gap year away. They won’t question it. They haven’t been that far south since before the Bush administration.”

“But going down south is so much fun...” Bernie snickered through glossy lips bubbling with sticky seed. “Especially when Stud here is involved.”

“The proposition has potential.” Miss Gwendoline purred, licking up a stray glob of white from the underside of Terry’s surging shaft. “We run any business operations remotely through proxies here stateside. Hide everything behind a complex web of shell companies while we work on our tans and milking Terrence dry of his Wondercum—”

“Yay!”

“—or whatever we brand the final product Amy comes up with for public consumption. Perhaps something along the lines of organic cosmetic products?” She continued as the athletic blonde drooped in sulky disappointment. “The relaxed pharmaceutical regulations in Mexico would work in our favor in that regard. We could market it as naturopathy, since I suspect that will be closest in definition to our end result.”

“Hold up just a damn minute!” Terry protested, a kernel of stubborn defiance finally catching in his craw. “I have a say in this too, okay? Don’t talk about me like I’m not here, or as though I am just going to waltz along to any tune you wanton women decide to play me. My fucking dick, my fucking choice. You hear me?”

Everything slammed to a halt as though he had hit some metaphysical brake pedal and four sets of astonished gazes turned to stare down at his glowering face. Though Terry felt his recalcitrant stance was somewhat diminished by the presence of his treacherous cock spilling pungent juices over Miss Gwendoline’s spectacular cleavage.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Amy asked, finally loosening her grip on their mewling neighbor’s ponytail to approach him slowly, cautiously, as one would a wild animal. “We’re doing this for us and women everywhere. I thought you understood that.”

“It’s okay, Stud…”

“No! That’s just it.” Terry interrupted Bernie as she tried to calm him and slapped away her stroking hands. “I’m not some thoroughbred stallion to be milked for my Miracle-Gro sperm to satisfy some macrophilia kink you all are developing. I am my own man, with my own wants and desires to pursue. My own path to forge. Get it?”

“Oh, Terry. I’m sorry if you feel like your voice hasn’t been heard.” Amy’s expression softened and she took his hands in hers. Terry had to lean back to see her above the heavy shelf of her bosom. “That’s not fair to you and I want you to know that your emotions and opinions matter to me most of all. I love you, Tiger.”

The small crowd of watching super-women ”awww’ed” as she leaned down and kissed him long and lovingly. Miss Gwendoline’s large mitts pulled his obstructive pole out of the way before it could ruin the tender moment by poking anyone.

“Tell me what it is you want, baby.” Amy whispered when their lips finally parted. “And I will move heaven and earth to make it happen if it’s within my power to do so. You are the most important person in the world to me and all I want is for you to be happy.”

“I love you too, Amy. So let’s get hitched already.” Terry said without hesitation, her welcome flavor still lingering on his tongue. “Then we can go on that honeymoon we always dreamed about.”

“Yes, Baby. I’d really like that too.”

A happy tear ran down his fiance’s blushing cheek and she leaned in to kiss him again when Fiona piped up with a voice far too small and timid for a woman of her enlarged size.

“Gosh, that’s beautiful and I love that for you two, but… ummm… does this mean Terry isn’t going to fuck me?”

Having said his piece and cleared the, admittedly, aromatic air, Terry couldn’t help but to look at the sleek young object of many a shower-time fantasy.

Freed of her way-too-small daisy dukes, the little ginger landing strip of trimmed hair above Fiona’s glistening mound was like a fuzzy pathway leading the way to forbidden nirvana, hidden at the top of her long silky legs. Her white cotton singlet had become more of a crop top as it struggled to contain her fuller, perkier tits and Terry’s mouth watered at soft definition of her abdominal muscles.

Fiona had already been lithe and fit in a way that most people only saw on the covers of women’s health magazines, with her fiery copper curls and face so naturally seductive that it would have left a priest chewing through their rosary beads after she left confession.

But now, kneeling before him in nothing but her straining top…

He guiltily cleared his throat, which only made Amy giggle like a naughty schoolgirl. “Ahem, I never outright said I wasn’t going to fuck you, did I?”

“Mexico sounds like a great place to begin our honeymoon.” Amy agreed, heat leaking back into her sultry voice as she commandeered his twitching turgidity from Miss Gwendoline’s fondling fingers. “Turn around Fiona, I will guide my husband-to-be into you myself. For science, of course.”

“Thankyouthankyouthankyou!” The flexible nymphet gushed, spinning on a dime and bending over to wave her sensationally sculpted tooshie at them. “You’re going to love Bahia San Agustin. The villa is right on the beach and we can all wear the tiniest Brazilian bikinis…”

“You are right, I’m sure.” Amy smirked as she positioned Terry’s bulbous crown at the lubricious entrance to the redhead’s pretty pink pussy and notched him into her parting nether lips. “Better brace yourself, neighbor, because this is going to be the reverse of throwing a sausage down a hallway.”

“Like squeezing a school bus into motorcycle parking?” Bernie suggested, staring down in lewd fascination as Amy fed the first cunt-cramming inches into Fiona’s slick snatch.

“Bernice, language!” Miss Gwendoline scolded half-heartedly, also fixated on the sordid scene as she couched her bare overflowing breasts on Terry’s shoulders. “You can try to act like a proper lady, at least.”

“Nah, I’d rather be Terry’s cock-hungry whore.” Bernie countered, gnawing her bottom lip as Amy stretched Fiona wide-open on his splitting girth. “On the streets and between the sheets. Don’t pretend like you are any different, Gwen.”

The commentary from the peanut gallery were lost on Terry as his future bride pressed more of his obstinate length into the excitedly huffing brat’s tight honey-hole. Fiona’s clenching walls gripped him like a vise as her squirting nectar turned her stuffed pussy into a slip-and-slide adventure for him to explore.

“Oh my gawd, Tiger.” Amy husked in an awe-struck tone. “There’s just so much of you. She can’t possibly take all of that inside herself, can she?”

Looking down at where the squirming redhead’s nether lips stretched into an air-tight seal around his double-wide shaft, Terry considered it.

“Probably not on the first go around. Gwen was a pretty wild exception.” He hazarded, “That leaves space for you, baby. Come around front, I want to kiss my future wife.”

Amy’s dazzling smile was that of a fox left in charge of a dozen hen houses. ”Mmmm… so commanding. Whatever you say, Tiger.”

She shimmied out of her tiny running shorts before throwing a long, shapely leg over Fiona’s wiggling butt. Then Amy scooched in close until his chin was propped up on her cushiony, bra-clad cleavage and her naked pelvis was rubbing firmly against his stomach.

She raked his hair back with her fingers and tickled Terry’s scalp with her nails as she stared at him with her smoldering almond eyes and wet her ruby lips with an anticipatory darting of her tongue.

“Like this, baby? Is this how you want your hot wifey?” She purred coquettishly, squeezing her slender thighs around the throbbing length not buried in their bratty neighbor. “I want to ride your cock right into her tight little pussy. I want to feel every twitch of this beefy beast as it ruins that teasing twat for anyone but us.”

“Holy shit, Amy! I can’t fucking wait to marry you.”

Then they were kissing with a heated intensity, tongues wrestling and coiling over each other as Amy loomed over Terry and pulled him harder into her passionate embrace. Her silky thighs ground together, adding an extra dimension of tactile stimulation to his mounting pleasure, and her warm honey flowed from her dripping folds to coat his cocooned cockmeat.

“Jeezus, that is hot.” Bernie groaned from beside the necking couple. Moving in to wrap them both up in a well-upholstered hug that squashed Terry deeper into his fiance’s bountiful boobage. “Do it, Stud. Fuck them together then let me eat a creamy boxed lunch out of the ginger slut’s wrecked cunny.”

“That’s it, big boy.” Miss Gwendoline crooned, rubbing her warm hands up and down Terry’s back in caressing strokes. “I know you can do it, show us all what a big, strong man you are. Tame that naughty minx for Momma.”

Terry growled into Amy’s mouth and she hummed back in approval as his hips began to pump like steam-powered pistons, driving his king-sized dick through Amy’s cock-choking leglock and into Fiona’s foaming pussy.

Three sets of buttery soft hands roamed his heaving, bucking body as Terry rutted and grunted like a neanderthal, drowning in a sex-fueled delirium and the press of soft-yet-toned female flesh surrounding him on all sides.

The living room felt steamier than a Swedish sauna, and reeked of clean sweat, masculine musk and feminine arousal. Gasps and moans, punctuated by the slapping sound of skin against skin, blended into a sinful soundtrack to accompany the carnal bacchanal that had swept them all away like a tropical typhoon of hedonistic desire.

”Nnnnurgh~ Yes! You’re filling me so good, Terry.” Fiona howled, her elbows giving out as she collapsed face down into the carpet with her taut rear end still shaking high in the air. “You are stretching out my insides and poking my fertile little womb with your huge, hunky dick!”

“Hear that, Tiger?” Amy whispered hotly into his ear as she nibbled on the lobe and churned her muscular thighs around his chunky base. “The sneaky scamp wants you to cum in her nubile, fertile baby belly. What do you say?”

“You’re all acting crazy, love.”

“Crazy for you, and this fat fucking cock lurching between my legs.” She cooed in a loving reply. “She’s literally begging for it. Why don’t you cum already and show us all what we want to see? Give the poor girl what she wants.”

“Ohhh, yes! Show us that flat tummy bulging with your spunky seed!” Bernie clapped and hopped enthusiastically in place. Her mountainous tits jiggling in time with her exuberant motions. “I bet you can turn each of us into swollen spunk balloons then go for rounds two and three. Like in celebration of your coming nuptials. yeah?”

“Show Momma what she looks like packed full of your big manly load.” Miss Gwendoline moaned—tugging at a diamond-hard nipple with one hand and pawing his thrusting ass with the other—as her breath curled down the back of his neck. “Give Fiona what she wants, then come give Momma another good stretching out.”

Terry wasn’t sure where all this ‘Momma’ dirty talk had suddenly come from but he was in no position to question it as the manic rhythm of his pounding hips took on a mad cadence and Amy claimed his lips again in another passionate, tongue-heavy kiss.

”Mmmnph~!

Fiona was babbling incomprehensible shrieks and squeals into the carpet as she bounced her thickening hips and ass back onto his spearing cockhead. Her ginger curls were visibly growing in length and volume as they spread out around her flailing head like a tangled, glossy halo with each erratic spurt of Terry’s copious precum inside her.

He could feel more than see her changing around his plunging girth. Her slick, clinging folds parting to accept more of his veiny magnitude into her expanding depths. Her steamy insides undulated and rippled against him, milking his meaty monstrosity and tugging him further into her needy nethers.

“That’s it, Tiger, that’s it.” Amy whispered warmly, kissing behind his ear as she rolled her heavenly thighs together in a stroking motion. “We all care for you and only want you to feel good. Don’t hold back, let it all out…”

“Jeezuz, fuck! I’m gonna cum!”

“Please cum for us, Stud.” Bernie panted, practically titfucking his shoulder with her colossal cleavage. “We want to feel you filling all our holes with your magical jizz!”

“Do you want to fuck Momma’s huge new breasts again, big boy?” Gwendoline purred into his other ear, lifting and offering a stiff pink nipple the size of a silver dollar to him. “Or maybe you can suck on Momma’s sensitive teats while she sits in your lap and grinds your big boy cock until you explode impossibly deep inside her…”

“YesYesYesYesYes~!”

Fiona’s exultant screams drowned out Terry’s own cry of ecstasy as his herculean balls performed a heroic deadlift, flexed mightily, then erupted like Mount Vesuvius. Hot seed jetted out of his pulsating immensity, boiling into Fiona’s hungry womb like molten magma.

Or was that Lava? Terry’s inner pedant was never certain of what the difference was between the two.

Either way, it felt as though his cock bulged in a fire hose release of liquid pressure to flood his naughty neighbor’s young cervix with a decades worth of life-changing baby batter.

“You’re doing it, baby, I can feel it flowing out of you.” Amy shuddered deliciously, bathing his trapped shaft in her own climactic juices. “You’re giving her so much of your wonderful cum. She’s already changing faster than ever before.”

”Gawd, it gets hotter every time he does it!” Bernie groaned, rubbing her stupendous self against Terry’s side like the gigantic horn-dog she was, and rocking him back on his heels. “Me next, Stud. MeMeMeMeMe!”

“Calm yourself, Bernice.” Miss Gwendoline snapped, a touch of her old sternness returning. “He’s still cumming and I’m trying to count the seconds to see how long it lasts…”

The words faded away for Terry whose ears only heard the thundering beat of his own heart and the sounds of rushing water.

Was that the last of his earthly fluids leaving his body until he was nothing but a dried out husk of man? It was bound to happen eventually with the unsustainable levels of ejaculate he had been producing. It was a minor miracle that his overclocked cock wasn’t just coughing up chalk dust before finally giving up the ghost and falling off.

Could a man ejaculate his immortal soul right out of his corporeal form?

…Because that was what it felt like. Darkness encroached on the edges of Terry’s vision, reducing his perspective down to a pinprick centered around the devilishly seductive sensation of pouring his life essence into a snug, spasming slit.

Warm softness enveloped him and Terry was preparing to commend his spirit to whatever flying spaghetti monster was watching over him, when four simple words reached his ringing ears.

“We love you, Terry.”

Like a meteor entering the atmosphere, Terry came crashing back to reality with jarring force. His head shot up and his eyes snapped wide open to see four gorgeous giantesses cradling him in their loving arms and smiling happily down at him as four sets of large, gentle hands wiped the sweat from his skin and massaged his tired muscles.

Bernie was busy massaging one large and not-so-tired love-muscle in particular with a cheeky gleam in her sapphire gaze.

“Do you all mean it?” He croaked through a throat that was drier than the Sahara.

The clustered women exchanged looks loaded with unspoken meaning. They all towered over him, Fiona now the tallest of their number; close to nine feet of sculpted musculature and full, feminine curves. Her glossy ginger curls cascaded down over her phenomenal center-fold figure like a tangerine waterfall as she shared happy smiles with the others.

They nodded to Amy in a wordless unison and she bent down to peck Terry on his brow with unalloyed adoration misting her almond eyes.

“Of course we do, Tiger. You mean everything to us. You’re our future.”

Terry let out a heartfelt sigh of relief that rasped like the coarsest sandpaper.

“Good, then someone get me a goddamn drink. Because I’m dying of thirst down here…”

High Phsycophant Qwaizoo rolled his eye-stalks and fanned his lapis impatiently as the crowd of hideous Hootnams finally ceased their endless procreation and collapsed into a sleepy pile of disgustingly boney limbs.

It had been hours of foul animal rutting while he hovered unseen in a corner, forced to bear witness as the male test subject recklessly injected more and more of the transmutative side-effect of compound X244-1d into its female breeding partners. One after another after another…

Such a vile, revolting act. Qwaizoo had never been more thankful that his clearly superior species reproduced asexually.

To be honest, the Craterisal officer had only taken this away-mission upon himself to escape the increasingly awkward, unprofessional situation playing out between the two shtaaark-hole delving deviants on the command deck of his starship in orbit above this abhorrent planetoid.

It was telling that even this appalling assignment was the lesser of two evils. The only thing worse than discovering the scandalous whisperings about Grand Scrutineer Dhuussod’s distasteful predilections were true, was watching him find a perverted new protege in that incompetent flunky Third Class; Bhamme.

He had been present for some time—nearly a half planetary rotation—hidden behind his psionic chameleon field and waiting in the wings for the chance to bring this misbegotten expedition to an end with his own pseudopods.

The landbound Hootnams had repulsed the High Phsycophant with their fleshy slapping noises and gross angular forms thrusting together until Qwaizoo thought he couldn’t endure it any longer. Thank the Prime Smack—may they remain ever gelatinous—that they were finally exhausted and he could bring this forsaken mission to a close then catch the nearest wormhole back to the roiling gaseous depths of Beta Crateris III as soon as possible.

Floating silently forward with the loaded hypospray held fast in his curling pseudopod, it wasn’t difficult to locate the Hootnam male’s reproductive appendage. It was loosely wrapped like a thick power conduit around the lower limb of one of the overgrown females sleeping practically atop the test subject.

The organ was obnoxiously long, pink and squishy. Qwaizoo repressed the sickening shudder that rippled through his cerebral bell as he gently applied the surgical instrument to wrinkly flesh and painlessly injected the contents into the spongy tissue.

Compound X245-1e—he had checked to ensure it was the correct compound no less than three times while cursing the Grand Scrutineer’s needlessly complex cataloging system—wasn’t a complete counteragent for the psychotomimetic Decalopoid extract infecting the repugnant Hootnam’s reproductive system, not entirely. But the lymphatic fluids of the notoriously hardy Struthionidae from the Lyncis Constellation would limit the aggressive growth of the invasive alien biomass and neutralize the worst of the psychic outbursts.

Hopefully.

Allowing a cadmium-colored flash of relief to wash across his mucus membrane, High Phsycophant Qwaizoo wafted out of the boxy confines of the Hootnam habitation unit and prepared to signal his ship for retrieval.

...he badly needed a soothing methane shower and some quality time with his pet diamond collection to put this whole mission behind him.

Epilogue

Mariana passed the binoculars to her close friend and business partner Ana as their chartered yacht approached the small, almost hidden cove of Bahia San Agustin.

“Here, tell me what you see.”

The two successful young health and beauty entrepreneurs had sacrificed much time, effort and millions of pesos to follow a trail of online breadcrumbs to the sandy white beaches of this remote seaside community in search of the latest holy grail of cosmetic products.

Wondercream™.

The before and after pictures on Pinterest had been instantly dismissed as deep fakes, which was ironic because the very same posts on Instagram had been pinned by thousands of viewers as an immediate favorite.

Photoshop experts and message board nay-sayers had scoured the pixels, sifting the high resolution and clear color palette through the finest digital sieve imaginable, and been unable to form a conclusive argument against the veracity of the unbelievable images.

But an actual sample of the elusive beauty lotion was harder to find than a carrot in a convent.

Everyone had heard the scuttlebutt surrounding it but no one knew where to order the miracle lotion. Even those who claimed to have benefited from the certified organic product were understandably tight-lipped about their secretive sources.

“What am I looking for?” Ana asked, raising the lenses to her clear hazel eyes. “Anyone in particular?”

“No, just focus on the people on the beach.” Mariana replied, feeling the bud of excitement bloom in her pattering heart. “What do you notice about them?”

She watched as the gorgeous Puerto Rican influencer frowned in concentration and leaned over the railing to better scan the approaching beach.

They had both dressed appropriately for the ocean ride, not missing the opportunity to snap some sexy deck-side selfies of their sumptuous sun-kissed bodies wrapped in stylish string bikinis with the whitecaps cresting in the background. Real money makers to be posted on their profiles later to recoup some of the outlay in case the search turned out to be a fool’s errand after all.

Which Mariana was beginning to believe it wasn’t…

“There’s a lot of attractive women hanging out by the beach. Too many swimsuits and not enough boats, lines or nets out for even a small fishing village.“Ana commented, adjusting the focus on the spyglass. “It looks like a photoshoot for a men’s entertainment magazine.”

“But with no cameras or crew in sight.” Mariana nodded in excitement. “Now look at the volleyball game or the tiki bar by that grove of palm trees, and you’ll see...”

She waited for her business partner to pan the telescopic view and grinned at the startled gasp of realization.

“Dios mio, that’s impossible! It must be a trick of the distance. An optical illusion.”

Except it wasn’t. Mariana had watched three breathtakingly beautiful, stunningly tall, women dressed in floppy sun hats, strappy sandals, translucent waist wraps, and nothing else, bending low to reach under the bar’s palm frond awning and retrieve their coconut themed drinks. When they had straightened up again, not one of them was less than a head taller than the rusty iron roof of the chintzy watering hole.

The game of beach volleyball was a joke. Nothing but standing spikes over the high-strung net with feminine feet still firmly set in the glaring white sand.

“Ho, the ship!” A deep voice called from over the starboard side in American english. “Are you sailors lost? Hablas inglés?”

This time they both leaned out past the railing, full bronzed breasts dangling over the clear cerulean water in their tiny bikini tops, to spot a shaggy-haired young man piloting his twin engine ski boat up alongside their hired yacht.

He was heavily tanned for an Anglo, his open Hawaiian shirt fluttering behind him as he stood behind the raised helm. He smiled up at them from beneath a weatherbeaten sports cap and a pair of mirror lens sunglasses as he brought the knife-shaped vessel to a bobbing halt a short distance away.

Far more interesting than the speed boat’s skipper were the two Amazonian bombshells seated on the padded rear bench. They were towering, modelesque beauties—one a sun-bleached blonde and the other a faded brunette—riding topless in skimpy swimsuit bottoms with welcoming smiles on their cherry lips and the busty ballast of their top-heavy, muscular physiques weighing the stern down to the waterline.

“We speak english!” Ana called out over the choppy waters of the picturesque cove. “Is this Bahia San Agustin?”

“It is!” The gigantic brunette shouted back, cupping her mouth in both hands. A diamond-studded wedding band glittered conspicuously on her ring finger. “Are you two Mariana and Ana? I thought I recognised you from your Twitch channel. Come aboard, we’ve been expecting you.”

They had? The two Latina fashionistas exchanged surprised glances before snatching up their beach bags and hurrying to the diving ladder that descended the yacht’s hull as the smaller boat edged up alongside.

The massive, athletically built blonde helped them down. More-or-less plucking them off the side of the deck to gently place them on the fiberglass side seats and pat them fondly on their inky-haired heads once they had settled.

“There you go, my pretties.” She cackled with a grin so wicked that she only lacked a pointed witches hat to complete the impression. “We’ve got you now and your little dog too.”

A lance of anxiety skewered Mariana as she finally took in the unbelievable size differential between herself and the other two monumentally proportioned strangers. They were ten feet tall if they were an inch.

“Bernie, stop scaring the guests.” The imposing brunette scolded, “It wasn’t funny the first time you said it and it’s not funny now.”

“Aw, c’mon Amy. I was just having some harmless fun.” Bernie protested petulantly, crossing her arms over her enormous bare breasts. “We talked about adding a little theater to the introduction, didn’t we?”

“That isn’t the welcoming tone we are aiming for!”

“Um, excuse me,” Ana said timidly, raising her hand to interrupt the two squabbling giantesses. “We didn’t bring any dogs and are only here to meet the people behind the Wondercream™ cosmetic line. I suspect that would be the two of you?”

Both titanic women looked down at her and Mariana with wide toothy grins as the outboard motors revved up to turn towards the sun soaked shoreline.

“Close, while we’re certainly some of the key people driving our fast growing business, you’ll meet the actual man behind the curtain very soon.” Amy replied, resuming her seat with Bernie on the rear bench as the boat picked up speed. “Sorry if that sounds vague but we are keeping things very hush-hush and need-to-know while the production and operations are getting better established.”

“You did a great job finding us here.” Bernie gushed, slipping a massive arm through the brunette’s own and hugging close into her side. “Fiona—that’s our head of social media and promotions—is really good at picking out the right kind of people to help us and dropping little clues for them to follow if they are motivated enough. That’s, like, your whole job interview and you both passed. Yay for you!”

“Job interview?” Mariana asked wearily. “We’re only here to discover the truth behind Wondercream and find out for ourselves if all the fuss is real.”

It felt silly to say with two prime examples of the mysterious products purported benefits sitting almost knee to knee with her as they bounced breastily over the crashing surf. They seemed to sense it too, by the knowing smiles on their resplendent faces.

“Don’t look so worried!” Bernie giggled, patting the air in a calming gesture. “You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to, and nobody is being forced to do anything. Everyone is free to leave whenever they like, except no one has yet. Not once they got a taste of our—”

“Company lifestyle and values.” Amy finished for the looming blonde, speaking loudly over whatever she was about to say next. “But Bernie is right when she says this is an open invitation with no expectations or pressure for you to accept. Bahia San Agustin is a beautiful place. Please feel welcome to explore it, speak with the locals, sample all it has to offer, and come to your own conclusions. Personally, I think you will both be a good fit for our line of work.”

“More like a snug fit. Rising and grinding one out. Getting in, then getting off, on the ground floor if you get my meaning.”

“Dammit, Bernie and you were doing so well for once.” Amy sighed as the party-sized blonde made lurid hip motions on the seat beside her. “Get out and help pull the boat up onto the beach, please.”

The two Latina influencers blinked as they realized the engines had died and the boat was coasting up to the sandy shore. Bernie let out a good-natured harrumph as she splashed into the clear blue waters that would have submerged them to their hairless armpits but only came up to the mountainous stunner’s waist and began to push the twelve foot pleasure craft out of the foamy breakers.

She made it look easy, even shooting a playful wink at the two gawking women.

Spread out on the beach before them, nearly two dozen inhumanly tall and impossibly superb specimens of feminine perfection paused in what they were doing to eye the landed boat with eager, hungry expressions. A few of the volleyball players jogged into the surf to help. They were all long flashing limbs and generous curves—broadcasting supreme health and a nearly supernatural level of strength as they dragged the burdensome boat up onto dry land.

“Take your time and come find me if you have any questions. Any at all.” Amy said, turning back to Ana and Mariana after levering the twin motors out of the water and locking them in the upright position. “We believe in one hundred percent transparency once potential recruits reach us here in our new home. My door is always open for you, I mean that sincerely.”

Neither Mariana or Ana missed the heated note in her final offer, nor the smoky look in her almond eyes before a male presence they had all but forgotten spoke up behind them.

“That’s enough, Baby. I think they get the point. It’s time for us to get back to work now.”

It was the shaggy-haired skipper in the unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt and—now they could see all of him from a closer inspection—a large beach towel tucked around his waist. Something thick and heavy stirred beneath the colorful wrapping as he smiled warmly back at them from his reflective aviator sunglasses.

The young man had an easy, confident air about him and a moderately handsome build that either Latina would have usually taken a short moment to admire before dismissing him out of hand. But for some incomprehensible reason, that shifting motion held Ana and Mariana’s attention like two birds of prey spotting a fat slithering serpent for their next meal.

“Of course, husband!” Amy enthused, bounding bustily forward to wrap an arm around his back and lifted the charming skipper into a princess carry to step ashore. “You know there is nothing I love more than spending time with you and all our wonderful new friends.”

“Whoa! You don’t have to lug me around everywhere, Love. I have two perfectly functional legs.” He protested, clutching at his towel to keep it closed.

There was definitely an eye-catching amount of movement underneath.

“Maybe I like sweeping my hunky prince off his feet.” She giggled, booping him on the nose with her big forefinger. “Now shush, my Love, we must away before you are stolen again by all these wicked, thirsty women…”

“And she gives me shit about some of the stuff I say.” Bernie huffed, as the laughing couple disappeared into the milling crowd of oversized beach bunnies. “I better catch up with them, here, take these free samples to get you started. I’ve got the most important job of all and they’ll get started without me if I let them.”

She thrust two small lotion bottles into Mariana and Ana’s startled hands and they looked down at the pink labels with a thrill of excitement. The name “Wondercream™” was printed there in a large stylized font.

“Gracias—I mean, thank you.” Ana responded, unsure what else to say. “Bernie, was it? What is your job, if you don’t mind saying.”

“Yep, I’m in charge of production, tasting and quality control.” The enormous blonde gave them a crocodile grin as she backpedaled up the beach. “It’s the best. Have fun and we’ll talk soon ’kay?”

Then she was gone too, and the two mocha-skinned trendsetters were standing alone in the back of the landed boat examining their heavily sought-after prizes. The white plastic bottles were an odd, if distinctly recognizable, shape. Long, smooth cylinders with a rounded top end and a tiny rubber o-seal at the very tip from which the legendary beauty cream could, presumably, be squirted out.

Wait, did she just say… tasting?

“Mariana, this might sound odd…” Ana began in a cautious tone, gingerly rotating the suggestively shaped bottle in her grip. “But did anyone you spoke with mention how the cream was applied? There aren’t any instructions on the label.”

“Now that you mention it, Ana… no, and I didn’t think to ask. Because it’s a skin cream, right? It says it right there in the name.”

Mariana pressed a small dollop out onto her fingertip, rubbed it against the pad of her thumb and lifted it to her nose for a tentative sniff. It was powerfully fragrant. Salty with a slightly sour tang at the back end of the appetizing bouquet. Her mouth instantly began to water for some reason and her hand moved autonomically towards her perfect, parted lips.

“Hi, you two must be Ana and Mariana.” A friendly voice announced, snapping her out of her dreamlike haze. “My name is Miss Gwen and I’m here to help you both get situated.”

Blinking rapidly like sleepwalkers waking mid-step, they gave each other guilty glances. Ana snatching the phallic head of her lotion bottle away from her puckered mouth at the last second.

They turned as one to the speaker to discover an inevitably tall cinnamon-haired goddess wearing a tight gray pencil skirt, a black bandeau bra that acted like a hammock for her tremendous swaying breasts, and a wide-brimmed sun hat smiling happily down at them from a few feet away.

She was tapping a golden fountain pen on an official looking clipboard like a badge of authority.

“S-Sorry,” Mariana stammered, wiping her fingers clean on her hip and feeling an immediate tingle on the skin where she smeared it. “We only just arrived…”

“We understand completely.” The aforenamed Miss Gwen sympathized sweetly, bending low until she was within whispering range. “It’s a lot to take in at first. My advice as Chief Financial Officer is not to rush it. Mingle with the other girls, relax and take plenty of pictures—one glamor shot of you lovely ladies holding our special product will send your viewing numbers through the roof—you can find our wifi password posted at the bar. Otherwise, just enjoy yourselves and treat this like a free vacation.

“All we ask is that you have fun, trial the product, but don’t share any of our location details. I think you can understand that last stipulation after all the effort you spent finding us here. We provide an extremely exclusive service and don’t want our little slice of paradise to be overrun by common riff raff.”

Ana and Mariana found themselves nodding in agreement as they stepped out onto the sun-baked sands to follow Miss Gwen as she led them like baby ducklings through the throng of frolicking Amazons.

The towering business woman was speaking their language—if in English, rather than Spanish.

“Yes, of course.” Ana agreed, before peering down at the pink label again. “This is a topical ointment, for the skin, no? There is very little information on the packaging.”

Looking about, Mariana was growing less certain of that assumption by the second. Almost every woman in sight had one of the indecently designed bottles close at hand if not actually grasped in one.

There was even a vivacious young redhead with the long lean body of an Amsterdam contortionist and the face of a California covergirl handing out more of them, and taking silly photos of the gorgeous giantesses holding them in provocative poses on her smartphone.

There was a lot of naughty giggling and hand to mouth action happening on that particular stretch of sand.

“Use it however you like, in whatever way feels right for you.” Miss Gwen said in a warm, maternal tone. “Experimenting is half the fun and the health benefits are immediate no matter how you use it. Our Wondercream is unlike anything else on the market in that regard. Though I know my favorite method…”

Reaching down into her cavernous cleavage, the colossal business woman produced a penis-shaped bottle of her own and raised it to her plump ruby lips with a saucy wink.

“How do you say it here in ol’ Mexico? Ah, I remember now… salud!”