The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The Exotix bar was busy tonight I noted as I scanned the occupants... the usual sundry mix of aliens, demons, inhumans and used-to-be humans propped up the bar.

Most of the regulars were in; Balphagor leering demonically at some triple breasted cat-women, Morph demonstrating his party piece by taking on the appearance of a six foot tall erection; and of course Mark the carnivorous Yucca is sat in his corner, still digesting the smoker who’d stubbed a cigarette out in his pot last month. Mark’s usually quite chatty ...but not when he’s digesting, which takes, like, weeks.

Spotting a friendly face near the back of the bar, I walked over and pulled up a chair next to the Were-Hypnotist.

I’m Dougy Saunderson by the way; they call me Cupid Boy here at the bar. To a normal human I would look like a typical handsome younger guy of that indeterminate age that comes under the phrase ‘can I see some ID please’, the large dove-like wings sprouting between my shoulder blades are invisible to normal eyes; I gather humans have it sub-consciously wired in so that they ignore things like wings, tails, gray skin etc. etc... I gather It’s an effect of the Good vs. Evil Armistice Enchantment.

“Phil”

“Dougy”

“Get you a drink?” I ask

“Thanks, the usual”

I head off toward the bar... or more accurately the men’s room and see to getting him drink of the special stuff.

I returned a couple of minutes later and handed him his shot of ‘white-cream’, which he gulped down hungrily.

“Thanks Dougy, I needed that”

“No problems mate.” I replied. “We nearly-human types need to stick together after all; I figured it was worth the extra effort of getting some fresh”

“Definitely! I know some prefer it chilled or as a mixer, but to me the good stuff is always served fresh and at body temperature” He licked his lips tasting the vintage. “Hmm this was from a white guy, about...5′ 7″ tall, brown hair which he dyes...not sure what color though”

I have to admit, I was impressed. I had no idea that the Were-Hypnotist could identify a person from the taste of his cum. I wondered briefly if he’d figure out that I’d slipped into the men’s room and supplied the free drink myself instead of paying at the bar.

“So... heard anything interesting lately?” I ask

“Actually I figure it’s your turn Dougy. I told you how I got the way I am... bitten by a stage hypnotist… But you… " Said the Were-Hypnotist, sipping his drink “what about you? What’s your story? Apart from that Incubus bastard Roberto, I don’t think I’ve ever come across anyone quite as beautiful as you...”

I grinned, compared to normal human cum, mine is treble vodka. The Were-Hypnotist has a massive reputation, but physically he’s only a year older than me and isn’t used to cum that’s stronger than the Gnat’s piss that humans produce... he’s gay by the way and when he’s high on cum he’ll chat up anything with a cock or ovipositor. That grosses some out... but not me... I’m an equal opportunities cupid.

“Sure” I said taking a suck on the straw in my own drink, a chilled succubus juice Slushy, with a tiny parasol sticking out. “It all started when I was seventeen...”

Ok, I lied. It might not have started when I was seventeen. It might have started when I was twelve.

Look! Just because Clinton visited our school doesn’t prove anything. The fact that I was in the same homeroom as Bill and Monica almost certainly has nothing to do with what happened when they got back to Washington... and I didn’t even have the wings back then... That’s my story and I’m sticking to it!

Am I a freak? Am I an X-man wannabe? Perhaps I’m some sort of mythical being or an alien maybe? Short answer, I have no fucking clue, I didn’t then, and I don’t now. I’m told I’m a rare breed, others hint darkly that I’m also an endangered species (especially after one of my little jokes).

So anyhow, one day I’m, like, a no hope, mid-grade, overweight teenage human... the next... I wake up because I’d slept on my wings and they were, like, pins-n-needles hurting.

It was, like, really weird. I knew they were wings even before I’d contorted around with a shaving mirror and checked them out. Have you any idea how difficult it is to see shit on your own back?

I immediately went downstairs to show mom. That went well, she can’t see no fucking wings, and later I hear her talking on the phone to the fucking Rabbi.

“Oi vey!” she’s disappointed, apparently he doesn’t do exorcisms but he knows a ‘New Reformed Confessionist Minister’ who does it... for a small fee.

Fortunately we’re nearly trailer trash and can’t afford no fucking ‘small’ fee.

I headed on to college; I had to hang my bag over one shoulder like it was a fucking sissy handbag because I didn’t want to hurt my cute little wings.

So, mom can’t see no wings, next up I try my man, Tic-Tac.

“Hey Tic can you, like, see anything on my back?” says I

“Wow... kewl tattoo man, where’d you get the eagle wings done? They are so so out there!” says Tic

So... he sees a tattoo, and thinks it kicks ass; well I guess that’s an improvement on the whole calling the damn Rabbi thing. It occurs to me later that Mom probably saw a tattoo as well; she’s funny that way, bikers have tattoos, bikers = Hell’s Angels, Hell’s Angels = demon worship, demon worship = a visit from the exorcist for yours truly.

Having settled with Tic-Tac I head to the johns to check my wings, I figured maybe it really could all be a hallucination... Yeah, slim chance right.

So I check; the wings are bigger, big enough that I can see those fuckers peeping over my shoulders. I spread them wide; they’re now as long as my arms, they sneaky fuckers must of grown bigger when I was taking my T-shirt off to show Tic-Tac.

Well that was pretty much the end of going clothed from the waist up. My T-Shirt hasn’t a chance of fitting anymore.

I look at myself in the row of mirrors and that’s when the next really weird shit happens. Suddenly my skin acts like its getting sucked by a vacuum packer, in three seconds flat my flabby chest and abdomen suck themselves in, and there I am with a fucking ten-pack and slab-like pecs... thank you gods!

I’d stopped aging too, but I didn’t notice that for like a couple of years. Yeah that’s right I’m stuck with a cherubic face that screams ‘too young to...’ that’s why they call me Cupid Boy and not Mr. Cupid or Sir. I even have to have ID to be in the Exotix Bar for fucks sake!

For a moment there, everything was perfect, ok so I can’t wear no shirts no more...but this muscle rack, it needs to be shown off to da Lay’dees!

...and then it occurs to me there’s a campus dress code...you gotta be dressed in class. Bummer!

Ok, so you’d expect with the speed this is all going I’d be getting on to the flying and the archery practice by day two right? Wrong! Get real! I couldn’t shoot a bow to save my life. Then again that’s another stereotype isn’t it, my famous namesake was a lousy shot too according to some of the literature.

No... things went pretty normally for about a week. I got three detentions for not wearing a shirt, one for getting tattooed, and one for disrespecting our music teacher for not being able to take his eyes off my new improved body.

Mom of course figured that this string of reprimands was another sign that I’d sold my soul. I found out later that the damn exorcist took credit cards and that we had an appointment for a week Tuesday!

I admit I’m not exactly the smartest kid... smartest Man... I must stop thinking of myself as ‘kid’... I literally didn’t notice the other changes until I was back on campus after the weekend.

As I walked across the car park I noticed for the first time that I was stopping the show; conversations would stop and the talker would get this far away lust filled sort of stare and then turn to watch as I passed by. It didn’t matter if it was guys, girls, couples, even teachers... eew yuck! Old misses Mayhue! Is giving me the eye!

Yep, you guessed, basically I was radiating sexual attraction like a fucking nuclear reactor about to burn its way to China.

The upside of this was that I didn’t get any more detentions... then again I didn’t learn shit either. I’d sit in class and gradually everyone would turn to look at me with that dreamy hungry look until the bell went; then we’d change teacher and start over... all except the cheerleaders, they’d just glare furiously.

It never occurred to me that Cheerleaders are a separate species, I did figure out that they resented me getting all of ‘their’ attention... you want to stay clear of Cheerleaders, extremely territorial, worse than harpies... but we’ll get to that later.

At lunchtime I experimented, walking to the front of the queue and muscling in... that worked up to a point. The jock at the head of the line didn’t object he was too busy getting his head around the fact that he was lusting after my ass. Unfortunately I was having the same effect on the dinner lady, the spoon full of mash hovered tantalizingly over my plate for, like, minutes.

In the end I grabbed her by the wrist and turned the scoop over letting gravity do the rest. I then helped myself to the other fixings and walked to a table with a piled plate, not bothering to pay; nobody stopped me, they were all too busy imagining me naked.

The effect has a limited range, fortunately, by the time I was seated the queue was shaking itself back into action and it was the nearby tables that had stopped eating.

No one said anything. I’m told humans just edit out things that don’t fit their worldview... a kind of un-visibility for me.

I read a book once... Yes I do read books! Jeez! Forget the trailer trash stereotype will ya! It was Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy. You need to read that one, I’m not entirely convinced Douglas Addams was human, he knows too damn much about how things really work.. Writing about an ebook and owning a PDA in 1980...a dead giveaway I reckon.

So anyhow... after lunch I figure no one’s going to learn fuck all with me in class so I make sure my name’s ticked in the register and head on out to see if any of da Lay’dees are out on the sports field in their sporty lil’ mini skirts.

It never occurred to me I was being followed as I took the short cut between the back of the science block and the bike sheds, nicely out of sight.

Ahead of me Anna the cheerleader captain steps out from behind the sheds. She looked pissed off about something.

I guess I inherited some instincts along with the wings and decided maybe an hour in Mr. Ives’ Religious Studies class, wasn’t ‘quite’ such a bad choice for my afternoon’s activities, I began to back away; another Cheerleader, Suzi, stepped into view blocking my retreat.

Rather un-unnervingly Suzi had her hockey stick and was patting the business end against her manicured palm.

They closed in, crossing the limit of my lust zone without any noticeable reaction.

Like I said, on no account rub a cheerleader the wrong way, they are very very fast and very very strong.

Before my slow male brain could figure out the next move I found myself pinned against the brick wall, held by the neck, my feet dangling three inches off the tarmac.

“Turn it off bird boy!”

“Turn what off?” I croak; I hadn’t caught up with the name she’d used.

“They’re our quarterbacks, you can’t have them!” pouts Suzi

“I don’t want your fucking boyfriends!”

Anna slams me against the wall, hard.

“Ow!”

“Not... just our boyfriends. You can’t have any of the males. They are ALL spoken for, bird boy; you got it?”

This time I catch what she called me.

“You... you can see my wings?” I gasp

Instead of answering she reaches over my shoulder and pulls loose a fist full of beautiful pure white feathers. Fuck, did that hurt! Worser than that time I had my leg waxed on a bet...I won $20 on that, Tic still hasn’t paid up.

“Aarrgh!” I comment loudly

She dangles the feathers in front of my face. I notice that those red painted fingernails are far longer and far pointier than I’d always thought.

Well, either it just happened to be time for the next growth spurt or my species... if I am a species that is... has defensive instincts.

My hand jerked back, kind of like that move Spiderman does when he wants to shoot web.

“Ow!!” exclaims Anna

And there it is my first ‘arrow’ a slim needle of bone like a crossbow bolt sticking out of her voluptuous left titty, its hit her about an inch to the right of the nipple about parallel with the top edge of her areola, just where her D-cup sized breast begins to curve in toward the depths of her cleavage.... ahh that’s a sight I won’t ever forget.

She drops me and steps back plucking my arrow from her soft yet ample bosom.

“Why you... you...” she begins to shake her head as if to clear it.

I should have been running like hell, or wondering if I’d hit her with a lethal poison. I wasn’t. I was on my knees in agony, my other arm; the one that hadn’t fired a love-dart was burning like it was on fire.

“What did you do you little fuck?” growled Suzi swinging the hockey stick like she meant business.

Instinct again, I point my arm, the one that’s hurting so much, aiming at her and do that wrist flick move.

“Oh!” she says surprised looking down at my arrow, which has penetrated her cheerleader costume dead center on her left nipple...what you might call a bull’s-eye.

The hockey stick clatters to the floor as Suzi clutches at her head and breast.

Now you’d think I’d finally be high tailin’ it out of there at about that point wouldn’t you. Nope, not me, the way that Anna was wriggling like a demented lap dancer held my attention just fine.

Then I hear this ripping noise, Anna’s skintight cheerleader uniform has given up the battle.

Anna clutches at her breasts, its not an attempt to cover up though, she’s pinching at her nipples making them grow. I can tell from her eyes, she’s way beyond rational.

A second ripping sound, this time its Suzi using those sharp red nails to slice her own uniform open from crotch to neck line.

My new instincts are working overtime by this point, almost taking charge. I leap up onto the bike shed’s tin roof and sit myself cross-legged. Did I fly? I don’t recall, probably.

“Oh Suzi”

“Anna!”

The two cheerleaders close in on one another until their breasts are touching compressing slightly as the two sets of hard nipples prod the silky soft boob opposite.

“Can’t... help... myself” groans Anna, leaning forward and kissing Suzi’s willing lips.

Ok... I admit it I have the sexual maturity of Beavis and Butthead... lesbians, kissing... huh, huh, uh huh. Without any thought that I might be seen with my cock out in a public place, I whipped out my Mr. 9 inch and began rubbing the ol’ trouser snake.

Anna and Suzi wasted no time getting to it, I noted happily that the crotch of Anna’s uniform had a dark patch... and I was pretty sure it wasn’t piss or a feminine problem causing that.

“Never realized,” says one of them

“Better than a male” replies her lover

Anna takes Suzi’s head and guides it to her nipple; meanwhile Suzi’s hands make short work of Anna’s remaining uniform.

What I saw next nearly made me stop wanking. At the base of Anna’s spine, just where the ass crack starts there’s an extra hole... and out slides this long tail proportionately like cat’s ‘cepting its got no fur, just smooth skin.

I started beating the meat even faster, finding the new additions even more erotic. I love watching; I was like that anyway but I suppose it could be cupid instinct too. Do all cupid’s get off on watching the new pairings they create? Probability high I reckon.

The cheerleaders are soon getting down to it, sixty-nining on the sun-baked tarmac, long tongues twisting in and around moist openings.

This is getting so hot I think I’m about to cum... oops, there it goes, damn that was over way to quick. By coincidence the cheerleaders are also orgasming big time, backs arching, breasts jutting. It seems it’s all too much and the two collapse in a pile of naked unconscious limbs, their tails retracting out of sight.

I jump down to inspect, they are completely unconscious and sleeping happily in one another’s arms.

Cupid Boy: Two; Cheerleader Pack: Zero

I swagger off feeling pleased with myself. I don’t notice until about an hour later that Mr. 9 inch has been out taking the air for all that time and nobody mentioned it!

Getting a wild horny idea I strip buck naked and spend the rest of the afternoon getting an all over tan without anyone noticing... I was getting the hang of being un-visible.

Of course it hadn’t occurred to me yet that being permanently un-visible isn’t any good if you want an intelligent conversation with anyone other than bird boy hating cheerleaders.

Gradually the sun dipped down and the campus came alive with students racing to get the fuck out of there. Feeling rather self-impressed and having enjoyed a day with fuck all educational value, I wandered home.

Am I thick or what? I didn’t give the cheerleaders a second thought.

Home wasn’t good. Every time mom was in the same room she’d get hit with my un-visibility and just stand there looking at Mr. 9 inch.

So finally I realized I had a problem, I needed to control my aura of lust or I’d never interact with anyone ever again.

I scrunched up my face trying to concentrate on damping it down. Once again it was instinct, I knew there was a way to keep it under control, I just didn’t know how. A half hour later, I had a headache and mom was still there...drooling quietly

I grabbed some tissues and wiped her mouth and then went the bathroom to get some aspirin.

Finally, at about 9pm I hit on something that worked...closing one eye and biting my lip! Boy was that a mistake! Suddenly mom realizes her boy is butt naked in the lounge.

I won’t repeat what she said, you wouldn’t get most of the Hebrew words anyway...lets just say after she’d finished she stormed to the kitchen to get the frying pan, her punishment weapon of choice.

Typically, having turned my aura of lust off, I couldn’t get it to start again. In the end I locked myself in my room and perched on the bedpost wrapping myself in my pure white wings. I was feeling pretty sorry for myself.

Next day; and the whole lust aura thing is still switched off. Which means I actually have to attend lessons again...bummer! Naturally I spent the morning trying to switch it back on rather than concentrating on learning anything.

Finally, about half way through music class I figure it out...Mr. Quidhampton was first to succumb. I guess that’s to be expected, he was quite happy getting turned on by just my physique last week, perhaps that made him vulnerable. He’s 22 and kinda cute so the fact that he’s, like, old, doesn’t bother me.

After a little more experimentation I find I have pretty fine control, I can have the whole room fancying me, or just the people right next to me.

The bell goes and its time for the next class, and I’m back up feeling great about things, now that I’ve got proper control, I can get out of the pants and get working on that all-over tan again.

As I enter the corridor I come face to face with Anna and Suzi, they’re holding hands and gazing deeply into one another’s eyes. I notice that each barely constrained rack has a tiny sticking plaster covering their wounds... And then they spot me... if looks could kill... I’d be a turkey roast!

“You are so so dead bird boy!” snarls Anna.

“Hey you babes want to go beaver huntin’ that’s none of my business” I reply wittily

The two cheerleaders glance at each other involuntarily, and become lost again in the radiance of each other’s beauty.

I slip away; I think I’m being smart but then I’d forgotten that Cheerleaders hunt in packs and I’d only accounted for, like, two out of the dozen.

As I’m walking down the corridor I notice two kids I know, Jenny Chadwick and David Wilson, there’s some sort of glow, wispy, almost invisible connecting the two. Jenny is with her crew, whispering, looking at David and laughing scornfully.

Now David, he’s busy looking in his empty locker, face burning red. He knows they’re laughing at him; he doesn’t know why. I figure he’s hoping the ground will swallow him up.

My arms begin to throb, distracting me from David’s plight. Being, like, a total moron I try flexing my wrists to get the cramps out.

Thwip! Thwip!

I’ve shot a love-dart from each wrist one hits David in the leg; the other hit Jenny in her well-rounded derrière.

“Ow!”

“What the?”

Suddenly that wispy connection thingy flares like a lightning bolt.

Quickly I shove my hands in my pants and contrive to look extremely nonchalant... Yeah, I looked as guilty as sin, but then nobody was watching me... all eyes were on the floorshow.

David and Jenny were locked together by the lips struggling to remove clothes without losing tongue contact...they were pretty efficient at it too. Soon Jenny is naked from the waist up and is soon on her back, legs spread... and David, his shirt’s open and his pants are tangled about his knees. He’s in there, his ass pistoning back and forth like there’s no tomorrow.

Naturally a crowd has formed and the obligatory chant has started. “Go Davey! Go Davey! Go Davey! Go Davey!”

And boy was he going at it! Totally focused on getting that home run. I’d have never figured he had it in him, true dedication to the male cause.

Mr. Cole shows up, and orders them to stop, and go to the Principal’s office. They ignore him, if anything they’re going at it faster, realizing that time is short. You know enough to realize I could have used my lust aura to stop them.... Well I would have if I didn’t have Mr. 9 inch out giving him a quick rubdown.

Mr. Cole storms off to the cleaner’s store and returns with a fire bucket filled with water, which he uses on my lovebirds, spoilsport! Boo!

The crowd takes up the cry “Boo!”

It’s debatable if even that worked, as the pair started screaming in climax at about the time the water drenches them.

In the end Mr. Coles resorts to gabbing an ear each and hauling them upright, dripping wet and still with eyes only for each other.

By now the crowd are wiping away tears of laughter and shuffling away so as to not join David and Jenny in the Principal’s office. The only ones not laughing are three cheerleaders stood at the back, arms crossed over ample bosoms, all of them glaring right at me. Hastily I pack good ol’ Mr. 9 inch back in my pants, bye bye, old friend.

By now I’m a lot happier about the whole being a mutant thing, oh the possibilities!

Mr. 9 inch shifts awkwardly in my pants reminding me that I didn’t finish up; I decide I need to find a quiet spot, and start another floorshow.

I skulk out toward the playing fields, if I’m going to set up some action; I want my actors to be, like, fit.

That’s when I first saw the cheerleaders in action, they were near the bike sheds, pretty much the same place I’d met Anna and Suzi. There were five cheerleaders. Stood next to them were four of the football team, and Tic-Tac.

Once again instinct takes over, without thinking about what I’m doing I launch myself into the air and fly up to the roof of the building so I can look down at them unnoticed. Once on the roof I’m distracted for a few minutes by the cleverness of me. I can fly woohoo!

When I finally look down, I notice that the boys are standing to attention (in both senses) and each has a neat pile of clothes at his feet. Tic-Tac looks nervous but the other guys look like they’re used to this.

The cheerleaders move in on their prey; their tails emerge from under short skirts and wrap around muscular male thighs. The cheerleaders lean close and whisper in the ear of their boys, Tic-Tac shakes his head and one of the other cheerleaders leaves her footballer and wraps her tail around Tic’s other thigh; after a moment Tic stops protesting. Satisfied that all is as it should be the second cheerleader returns to her own boy.

As if on a signal all the cheerleaders grasp the balls of their boy in long manicured nails... and squeeze.

Ooh, not nice. I wince in sympathy. But apparently the victims are getting off on it, orgasming as their juices are squeezed out. Each cheerleader raises her cum spattered arm for her boy to lick clean.

As I watch they get this fuzzy aura around them, kind of like that stuff I saw linking David and Jenny. Only difference is that the boys aura seems to get gray and faded looking, whilst the cheerleaders seem to grow brighter and more colorful. Again with the instincts, I ‘know’ this isn’t good.

By this point Mr. 9 inch doesn’t want to come out and play anymore. This could be serious, this could be, like, Buffy-time. And then it occurs to me, even if there is any such thing as a vampire slayer or the uncanny X-men, a guy with a cute face and large dove-like wings is just as likely to get staked by a slayer as helped.

I’m so troubled I step off that second storey roof and glide to earth without giving the height a second thought.

My roller coaster day continued down hill when I got home. I open the side door and I’m hit by a wave of stink. Incense! Good Ol’ Mom, not satisfied with booking me in with an exorcist, she’s chatted with the fucking horoscope women who’s recommended fumigation.

Getting to my room I find several piles of comics and other ‘educational material’ missing and extra jostics burning on every shelf.

Naturally the stinking sticks get thrown in the bathroom sink and left there under water. It doesn’t take a brain surgeon to figure out that this will be taken as ‘proof’ that I’m possessed and nothing at all to do with not wanting to die of smoke inhalation.

Next day I decided to fly instead of walk. I decide afterward not to do that again. I may be ok for short flights but a two-mile flight is as exhausting as a cross-country run... I may look like a superteen athlete now, but I’m still basically a couch potato by preference.

Anyhow, having given myself back ache from the flying and still smelling of jostick (despite two showers), I decided to cheer myself up with a spot of target practice... yeah, yeah I’m a bad Cupid, bad. So, by the end of first period we had five new sets of lovers all due for a visit to the main office for fucking in public.

My aim improved over time, I really do feel guilty about young Tommy and Miss Greer. I also discovered I literally ‘had’ to hit two people or my un-used arm begins to hurt like fuck; so no using my special powers to make a girl (or boy) fall permanently in love with yours truly... doesn’t that just piss you off!

On the upside I’m really getting into voyeurism, I just love watching a new couple getting it on. With my un-visibility switched on I got give good ol’ Mr. 9 inch a full workout each time without anyone noticing.

Another interesting ‘improvement’ Mr. 9 inch doesn’t get muscle strain after three ‘workouts’ like he used to...I’m on my fifth orgasm of the day and good ol’ Mr. 9 inch is as fresh as he was first thing.

Temporarily, I got bored with creating couples and switched my un-visibility full on and I basked in the adoration of my public. Feeling adventurous I felt up a few breasts, and checked a few cock lengths using a ruler. It was pretty unrewarding; my mental victims don’t have enough free will to interact much.

Spotting Tic-Tac I glide down next to him and damp down my un-visibility.

He glares at me like I’m his enemy.

“Hey Tic”

“Get lost Saunderson”

“What’s eating you?!”

“Marcia says you disrespected her friends”

Uh oh... That’d be Marcia the cheerleader, the one that I’d seen squeezing the juice out of his two-veg.

“What’s that bimbo got to do with anything” I reply incautiously

“Watch your mouth! That’s my girl you’re dissing!” he snaps. I get the idea that if I’d been wearing a shirt he’d have grabbed me by it and slammed me against the wall. As it was, my lack of shirt foiled his plan; he glared impotently instead.

“She’s your girl? More likely you’re her pet! I didn’t know you get off on having your gonads pulverized by some freaky girl with a fucking tail,” I snapped back.

He looks confused, and scared... as if he almost remembers something. I notice sheen of green Lycra under his shirt, odd fashion choice... and disturbingly like the team colors.

“Tic darling, you don’t want to be late for practice, run along now like a good boy” said an icy dangerous cheerleadery voice behind me.

“Yes’m” says Tic and runs, runs like it’s important.

I turn; it’s Marcia and she has two of the footballers with her, a hand rested on each impossibly broad shoulder.

“He’s mine now bird boy. You can’t have him.”

“What... what are you doing to him?” I ask nervously

“Why turning him into a brainless Jock-ette of course, soon he will have no higher ambition than wearing his lycra and having his cheerleading mistress stand on him. After yesterday I expect his grade point average is already down by 10%”

“Why?” I asked puzzled, I know enough about modern cheerleading to understand that some poor sissy boy has to wear the Lycra and use his strength to make their more complex acrobatics possible. I was beginning to get the nasty feeling that there was more too it than that.

“Because we can; and because you messed with our sisters. We’ve decided as punishment that you aren’t going to be allowed any friends, anyone who’s close to you is about to have a little attitude adjustment of one sort or another.” She says in that queen-bitch voice.

I glance at the two blank eyed jocks, neither of whom has heard a word we’ve said. They are Brad ‘Pitts’ Johnson and Hubert ‘Howling Mad’ Murdock, our team’s top quarterbacks, disconcertingly they are cracking their knuckles.

I glare defiantly.

“Pitts, Howlin’, this boy said bad things about me” says Marcia in a bimbo ‘Jessica Wabbit’ voice, her eyes smiling icily.

“Nobody says bad things ‘bout our babes,” snarls Pitts stepping forward.

I am so so dead, I think... and then it occurs to me, like, why? Like duh! I’m Super-Cupid.

Launching myself into the air I take careful aim and twitch my wrists

Thwip! Thwip!

Two arrow-like darts strike the two quarterbacks, its like trying to tranq a pair of rhinos, they glance at each other in a confused sort of way; I can see the wispy start of a link form between them; then Marcia stamps her foot reminding them who their mistress is.

I’m hovering at about 8 ft off the ground, so they’re having to reach high to try and grab a foot. In desperation I give them another couple of arrows. The love link thingy that I can sense, flares impossibly bright, and I know I’ve over done it. Overdosed on love-dart venom, Pitts and Howlin’ stop trying to grab me and get into a kiss that will probably last years.

I checked up on them a few years ago, they had a rough time after getting suspended (they got frisky with each other during a televised league game)... but eventually they got into the gay porn industry. It suits them; they can fuck each other 18 hours a day and get paid for doing it. I’m kinda relieved about that.

Anyhow... Marcia sees her studs are, like, totally out of it, and decides to take me in hand. Specifically her hand around my neck! She leaps like a panther, somersaulting and landing on the wall like she’s Spiderman... she sticks to the wall! And then launches herself at me.

I’m momentarily distracted by a top down view of her perfect breasts, and then she’s on me knocking me from the air... we skid along the ground ending up propped up by a tubular steel bike rack.

She raises her very sharp looking manicured nails ready to do a Lady Deathstrike gutting move. Fortunately I’m almost as fast and hit her with one of my love darts.

Marcia staggers backward looking at the dart sticking in her arm, with growing horror she knows what to expect even as my love venom begins to fog her mind.

Meanwhile, I am in, like, agony I have an un-fired love dart burning my arm duct. I look around, there’s nobody about, nobody at all. Holding my arm, like its broken I stagger away from the dazed cheerleader desperately looking for someone...anyone.

And then I see him, The Lambourne Lad; he’s in the field behind the school just walking aimlessly enjoying the summer sun. I almost didn’t do it, I almost allowed my conscience to win; but then I remembered those sharp claw-like nails and the fact that I was in, like, fucking agony.

I turned to Marcia, and smiled pointing at Lambourne Lad with my loaded arm.

“Hey Marcia!”

“Oh Gods No! You wouldn’t! I’m begging you...”

Thwip!

My aim is spot on. My love dart hits the stallion right under the tail. Lambourne Lad’s head comes up, startled by the sting, flicking his tail as if to shoo a fly.

“Bastard!” squeals Marcia and then more gently “Ooohh Bastard….”

I watch fascinated as my love darts have the usual effect, Lad’s huge lance grows larger, 2 feet, 3 feet...I begin to have doubts, after all poor Marcia isn’t exactly designed to take anything that big.

Anyway, Lambourne Lad’s not about to wait for permission, he canters back a few yards and then takes a run at the fence hurdling it in a single easy stride.

Marcia’s waiting for him, I can see the mental link between them, strong and bright, she’s ready for it now, positively eager in fact.

Woh... well who’d of thunk it? Lambourne Lad rears up on his hind legs resting his horseshoe clad forelegs on Marcia’s shoulders... and then he morphs, turning into a human fucking prince charming, he’s got a dark tan, roughly the same roan color his hide used to be and he still has a black mane of hair growing down his back. To my surprise I am also finding him quite attractive.

Anyhow, he’s still a stallion on the inside and still has only one objective... an objective that Marcia fully shares thanks to me. He takes her standing up, lifting her to tiptoe. His cock may have become humanoid but it was still at the upper end of the size range, causing her to leave the ground with each savage thrust.

They’re another couple I checked up on later, looks like my venom does some sort of compatibility thing, she gave birth to a pair of centaur boys. They’re good kids too, it seems the Lambourne Lad, doesn’t put up with an uppity mare teaching them any bad habits.

I have to admit, seeing the humanized stallion getting it on was... A bit shocking... I looked at my hands with their arrow ducts at the wrist, and actually wondered briefly whether or not I deserved this amount of power.

What a wimp! These powers are all far too kewl not to use.

Cupid Boy: Three; Cheerleaders: One.

I smile and leave the two new couples to get on with getting it on.

Nothing much happened for the rest of the day, I couldn’t find Tic-Tac anywhere, and to be honest I didn’t have a clear idea what to say or do if I did see him.

Feeling slightly frustrated I created a few more couples as I walked home. Nothing significant or controversial, just people who already had love links, three average couples, one gay and a straight he was lusting after.

My mom had renewed the josticks, so I went out for the evening avoiding my stinking bedroom for as long as possible. I headed out to West Cliffe looking out over the sea. I stood on the edge for a long time, working up the nerve to step off. It’s bloody stupid, when I’m not thinking about it flying comes natural, but when I’m stood on top of some high place looking down... not so keen. In the end I did step off, gliding like Icarus and then having to flap like mad to stay above the waves breaking on the rocks below.

By the time I got home I was exhausted and just crashed on my bed, not even bothering to clean out the damn incense.

When I wake up I realize it’s, like, Tuesday, and the exorcist is coming. Fuck! I spend the next hour or so panicking, figuring out different strategies for dealing with it. Naturally I’ve watched way to many horror films where holy water is like hydrofluoric acid.

Finally there’s a ring at the doorbell, I hear mom open it and let the visitors in...several persons from the sound of it. Nervously I head down to the lounge intending to stand near an exit.

Mom’s getting coffee, for my three guests... Rabbi Goldstein, the Reverend Ezekiel Yorke and a fucking cheerleader!

“What’s she doing here?” I snap by way of greeting.

“Why, Danielle is my assistant,” says Rev Yorke glancing at the cheerleader as if seeking confirmation of it.

“The reverend finds me quite useful” says Danielle in that, by now expected, icy voice.

Danielle places a hand gently on the Reverend’s shoulder and I can see those viciously long nails sink into the flesh, without Yorke even flinching.

I turn my attention to the Rabbi. “This isn’t right, you know that don’t you”

“Douglas, my boy, if it puts your dear mother’s mind at ease...” he shrugs

I decide to switch on my un-visibility partly to see if it works on priests and partly to have words with the new cheerleader.

Sure enough, priests are just as human as the rest and are soon sporting a couple of hard-ons and watching my crotch in dreamy fascination.

“Ok Dani... lets talk... you know what I can do. All it takes is a quick flick of the wrist and you and the Rev. are an item.”

“Oh you don’t want to do that bird boy” she smiles “That would just increase my control over the dear Exorcist. I’m sure you don’t want that.”

I cross my arms and glare at her, giving my wings a quick shake like I meant business...that would have been more effective if my eye hadn’t kept wandering to her sporty fit body.

“Perhaps not then...I guess I could find a replacement given a minute or two” I reply looking meaningfully at Mom’s fish tank.

“Ok, lets cut to the chase. Undo what you’ve done to Anna, Suzi and Marcia, stop poaching our territory or we’ll ruin your entire life,” she explains with chilling calmness.

Now I’m no macho hero type, but push comes to shove, you don’t talk to a used-to-be human male teen that way without getting his back right up.

“Yeah! Well here’s an ultimatum for you toots! You let Tic-Tac go; you leave me and mine alone, or the rest of you get a love dart up the wazoo! Maybe Marcia got off lucky getting a stallion, you thought of that? Maybe I’ll nip down the petshop and buy me some frogs! Hows that sound?” My wings slap my sides having flapped expressively.

“Be at practice tomorrow, you will have our answer.” she replies withdrawing her nails from the reverend’s shoulder...they are like six inches long and retract into her fingers as I watch, feeling a little drained and shit scared after my adrenalin high.

I’m so un-nerved I forget about the un-visibility, the Rabbi and the Reverend blink and shake their heads as if to clear them.

At this point Mom returns with a plate of Oreos and is upset that ‘that nice young lady’ has left. Oi Vey!

My encounter with the cheerleader was so off-putting that I hardly noticed the exorcism. The Reverend mumbled words from The Book swung that incense burner thingy, and sprinkled holy water, none of which had any effect other than make me sneeze.

I learned later that Rent-an-Exorcist is very very careful not to use any words or substances that might actually piss off a genuine non-human... Apparently Balphagor took him aside a while ago and had a little ‘chat’ and explaining the facts of (continued) life, after the jerk sprinkled the demon with consecrated curry powder.

So... there I am, tomorrow is ‘high noon’ I have an appointment with a dozen soul sucking babes with tails and dagger length fingernails. Hands in pockets, I walk dejectedly toward the campus feeling completely un-sexy and not even bothering to shoot-up any couples I see.

And that’s where my luck finally changes; I nearly trip over Mark and Morph... not watching where I’m going.

Now what a human would have seen and what I saw, would be two different things. A human would see a very good Elvis impersonator walking his miniature poodle.

What I saw was, a six foot tall penis using its gonads as feet, holding a dog lead that’s attached to a large planter with rune engraved sides duct-taped onto a skateboard. In the planter pot is a 4ft tall Yucca plant.

“Watcha lookin’ at Cupid Boy?” growls Morph (the erection) twisting his blind head down to look at me, his fat little lips bent into an annoyed scowl.

“Ain’t no Cupid, too big, cupids is like this high” says Yucca waving a leaf at about 2ft off the ground

“Shows what you know! That’s a cherubim, your Cupid usually looks like a 12 year old human, this one must’ve been late maturing, looks nearer to fifteen” opined Morph turning back to me. “Well? Watcha lookin’ at?”

“Nnnnh” I say intelligently

I try again... “Nothing Sir! I...I just haven’t seen anyone quite like you before... and I’m seventeen not fifteen!”

“C’mon Morph, give the kid a break, can’t you see he’s so new he’s practically a virgin.” says the Yucca

The six foot penis shrugs a couple of engorged veins that seem to substitute for shoulders and then turns into a fair imitation of a nearly naked Daisy Duke ...as in Dukes of Hazard.

“Is lil’ ol’ Mark right? Y’all new to this here existenz?”

“Yes... Ma’am... umm Sir. Aside from some Cheerleaders you are the first non-humans I’ve ever seen”

Morph changes again, looking like a nearly clothed Antonio Banderas, scowling menacingly. “Madre dios, Feckeen Cheerleaders! You want to stay clear of them compadre!”

“A little late for that” I reply despondently “They’ve invited me to their practice session tomorrow so we can ‘resolve our issues”

Morph turns back into an erection, and turns to Mark The Yucca... even though neither had faces right then I get the impression they are sharing a significant glance.

“You’d better come with us The Bar,” says Mark in a tone of leaf-rustle.

What followed was bizarre, Morph turns himself into tentacular horror... the sort where each tentacle is penis tipped... he takes some chalks from a bag and begins drawing runes and a pentagram on the sidewalk. By closing one eye and squinting I can see what a normal human would... a Picasso version of the Mona Lisa rendered in chalk. In my reality of course the pentagram turns into a sort of wooden beer cellar hatch.

I look at it very very nervously; it looks suspiciously like how I imagine the gates to hell might look.

“Crap! You’ve spooked him Morph.” says Mark “Look... Lose the Buffy theme and use the other rendering he’ll be easier with that.”

Morph adds a few more runes and the entrance changes looking like the holo-deck door from star trek.

“Star trek themed entrances are sooo eighties” grumbles Morph.

“I ripped a Lord of the Rings and a Matrix theme off the net last week, I’ll email them to you” promises Mark.

The talk of pirating software, emails and the net put me at ease. Despite their alien appearance these are regular guys.

Hesitantly I step onto the holo-deck door, which opens under me becoming a turbo-lift that drops at frightening speed for about three seconds before slamming to a halt.

The bar looks exactly like Ten-Forward, except that it’s inhabitants are even more alien. The bar doesn’t really look like that of course, the decor is entirely user-defined, I entered through a treky themed portal, If I used a LoTR themed one it would have been all ivy and marble pillars.

So...the bar had that aura of reassuring familiarity, trek is safe after all. The bar’s residents on the other hand are anything but safe. This isn’t ‘Cheers’ or that place in friends...no, the atmosphere is more like that of a place Dirty Harry or Starsky n’ Hutch or Obi-Wan go to roust out the usual suspects.

Conversation stopped the moment we arrived, every eye and eyestalk turned to assess the newcomers... for a good long sixty seconds.

And then someone steps on a tentacle and a fight starts, as if on a signal everyone returns to what they were doing.

The only thing stopping me bolting for the turbo-lift is Morph’s firm grip on my shoulder...the hand is anime-like with only three fingers.

“Take no notice, they pull the inspection routine on all the newbies” says Morph

They escort me to the bar, it’s not a direct route, they are keeping me clear of some particularly nasty looking pool players.

As we went with a treky theme Barkeep looks like a Ferengi, he... it... is the only person who’s appearance always matches whatever décor you’ve chosen.

“Watcha having?” he snarls

Desperately I look around the strange array of bottles behind the bar, some of which have live things twitching in them. My eyes fall on a Slushie machine, at least that’s something familiar.

“A Sss.. Slushie please.”

“Is he old enough to be drinking Slushies?” demands Barkeep, as if Morph and Mark are my parents.

“Says he is” rustles Mark.

“Hmmph” grunts Barkeep putting on an insulation-shielded glove and moving to the Slushie machine.

The drink arrives and I take a long suck on the straw. It was the most intense drink I’d ever tasted, making an area sort of behind my cock feel like it was having its own orgasm.

I discard the straw and gulp the rest down feeling the erotic burn form a core of pleasure where a womb would be if I were a girl.

I put the cardboard cup down and notice that everyone’s looking at me like they expect me to pass out or go into a sexual frenzy.

“Damn! respekt man!” says an 8ft tall humanoid that looks a lot like he’d played the lead in Predator, raising his glass.

Others nodded in approval; apparently I’m someone not to be taken lightly.

I didn’t find out until later that only those of us with top of the range self-healing powers can resist the effects of a succubus cum Slushie. A weaker creature would indeed have gone comatose with ecstasy or even turned into succubus...the indescribable burning pleasure that makes the drink popular is caused by the venom trying to create a womb and pussy!

Barkeep never warns anyone about that tiny side effect... after all, there’s always room in the milking parlor for an extra succubus.

Morph takes me by the hand and drags Mark along on his skateboard until we are at a side table. He’s changed looks again and has put on a mouthwatering version of Leo DiCaprio. As I said before I’m an equal opportunity Cupid... and I guess I still had a little slushie in my blood.

“Turn into some old geezer Morph. We won’t get anywhere if he’s daydreaming about fucking you” says Mark.

In a flash I’m looking at a 1990’s era Bob Hope and my Slushie-high fades to nothing.

“Ok... I’m here; I’m listening” I say

“If you show up to that cheerleader practice you’ll probably end up on the back of a milk carton” explains Morph

“Literally” added Mark “You won’t be missing at all...you’ll exist as an image on the carton until it gets trashed or incinerated”

“I think I need another Slushie”

“No. You don’t need a Slushie, you need our help.” insisted Morph firmly.

I look at them, a giant penis that can do impressions and a talking yucca plant duct-taped to a skateboard. “Umm...”

“Have trust, little Cupid Boy, tougher than we look, we are. Hmm?” says Morph momentarily looking like Yoda

“You’re not exactly catching us on a good day” adds Mark

“I have a bad feeling about this” I reply.

“If it helps you any, you aren’t the only one who’s had a run in with that cheerleader pack, there’s plenty here who wouldn’t mind seeing them taken down a peg or three.

“Unfortunately most of the really tough guys are bound by the good-evil Armistice Treaty ...they can’t touch the bitches without kicking off Armageddon War 3. Which leaves us really rare types who are such a minority that nobody thought to add our species to the list of signatories. For our purposes that means there’s you, me, and Mark here...and a whole arsenal of toys that the tough guys are happy to loan out to us.” Explains Morph who now looks like Mr. Phelps off of Mission Impossible.

I smile nastily, thinking ‘payback time’, another effect of that Slushie... I’m an evil drunk.

“Ok. I’m in... I already dealt with three of them and two of their jocks... I guess that leaves nine.”

They look suitably impressed and offer to buy me a drink to celebrate my heroic example.

I’m hoping for another Slushie but what Morph brings back looks suspiciously like very milky coffee bland and opaque. It’s actually delicious.

Mark waits until I’m chugging it down before mentioning that it’s a subtle blend of jism and pussy sweat. After sputtering spectacularly I change my mind and eagerly drain it down. I guess my taste in beverages has changed, the Bar definitely knows which drinks its clientele prefer.

We talked long into the evening; Morph and Mark have stories at least as strange as my own, which they’ll tell at the drop of a hat.

Finally it was time to go, they gave me a piece of chalk and a copy of a simple entry rune so that I could get back to The Bar... and then as a little joke they dumped me outside of town where I had to thumb a lift home from a nice couple. In payment I darted them both, reinforcing their love.

I get another telling off from Mom, she can smell what I’ve been drinking and thinks I’ve been screwing around...I wish!

Once I’d cleared out the replacement josticks from my bedroom, I lay on my bed contemplating the future. From what Morph and Mark had said I could earn a healthy amount doing ‘unusual’ jobs; added to that, this whole jostick routine was getting, like, old; maybe it was time to find my own place to live.

I mean; how credible is a cupid who lives with his mom? How am I going to explain to a triple breasted, ginger furred cat-woman not to make too much noise, just in case...that’s always assuming I can persuade Katrina to date me that is.

I decide to review my options once Tic is freed from his cheerleader mistresses.

Today’s the day... showdown... Some-when around 10am I start hearing the theme tune from ‘The Good The Bad and The Ugly’ playing in my head. Frustratingly, I know I’m only hearing it because I don’t know the fucking music to ‘High Noon’

I decide to relieve the tension with a spot of groping, extending my un-visibility field I stop crowd in their tracks and proceed to explore, testing the firmness of breasts and finding out who shaves, who trims and who’s pierced. Who’d have thought bookish plain looking Velma would be the one with the labia ring...I was shocked! Shocked I tell you.

Next up is Laura, I’m just slipping a finger into her panties when she changes...I find my hand wrapped around a cock. I look up; he looks like that Smallville dude…. Yep, It’s Morph.

“Pleased to meet you too Cupid Boy.” he smirks, and then turns serious. “Do you really have time to mess around like this?”

“Just a little stress relief. Where’s Mark?”

“Growing his way in, he’ll be there, no problem”

“Umm... Exactly what is the plan? I know we had one, but I think I must have been drunk or something”

“I knew that second Slushie was a mistake” he frowns

“No it wasn’t!” I object, remembering that tingling inner warmth and feeling thirsty.

“Ok” he sighs “The plan was for you to round up the nine nerdiest human males you could find, hypnotize them and then dope them with Incubus cum. You then do your love dart thing and the cheerleaders fall in love with nine bull Incubuses who are going to want a lot of personal attention. Once the cheerleaders are too busy to hold practice ceremonies their collective power will fade.... Simple”

“Ok... so I’ve heard a lot about what I’m going to be doing. What exactly are you and Mark going to do?” I ask suspiciously

“We’ll be backing you up. Here’s the Incubus cum” he says thrusting a freezing cold vial into my hand.

Nerds? Where do I get nerds from? Ah ha! Computer club... I lead the way down the corridor.

“Say, Morph how come we’re using nerds?”

“They’re the group most likely to be virgins... and all that self-abuse makes for a stronger Incubus. Besides we will be doing them a favor… sort of”

We enter the computer lab, instantly every head turns to look in my direction, looks of drooling lust on every face.

I focus the power on Roberto Canatski, the stereotype super-nerd, a skinny little weasel with bottle lens glasses and a prominent nose... his nickname is ‘Beaker’.

Beaker stumbles to his feet, his chair tangling in his feet as he walks zombie like toward me.

“Open wide” I instruct, his mouth hangs open.

Carefully I take one of those dripper things (I’d liberated it from the Chem. lab) and nervously dripped two drops of silvery Incubus cum onto his tongue...and then one more for luck.

The effect is almost instant, he uses his tongue lick his lips, and then his whole face...and then it extends so that its tip can lick my naked nipple.

This surprising development distracts me for a moment, when I glance back up I almost don’t recognize him. He’s hulked out; his sleeveless jumper has split along the seams, as he turns into a Mr. Universe candidate and has the face of a male super-model. There’s a ripping sound, I look down and see an 18-inch long boner has literally punched a hole through his pants.

He throws back his head and roars the mating challenge of the bull Incubus.

Oh boy, for a moment a there I nearly lose concentration and begin thinking about flying to someplace safe... say Iceland.

“Keep it tight” warns Morph

I frown with concentration; keeping Roberto the Incubus focused on my shapely butt is tough, he wants to be out there doing what Incubuses do.

I’m a bit more careful with the dosage for the others, they all bulked up, roaring that powerful mating calls as the elixir soaked into their brains. But Roberto will clearly be pack leader.

So there we were with a room full of Incubi; and in charges Joanne Feakson, a girl-nerd in a hurry to check her email or something. She bumps into me before my lust aura can bring her to a dreamy halt.

The vial goes somersaulting; to me it seems like slow motion. A drop of the stuff flies loose from the lip of the vial and lands on her exposed cleavage.

Oops! And now I’ve got some sort of She-hulk female Incubus as well as the rest. Ah well, I suppose it can’t hurt to have a spare and its her own fault for not looking where she’s going.

They all have their burning red eyes focused dreamily on me now... and then it occurs to me, how am I going to move them? As soon as I walk out of range they’ll be free to, like, hunt or mate or something.

Fortunately Morph has the answer taking a ball of string he’s had in a pocket he ties it around each neck and hands me the loose end of it. I can use this as a lead and the string of incubi will shuffle obediently along behind me like some Arab slave-master’s caravan.

So... now we have our prospective bridegrooms its time for them to meet the brides. Fortunately with my un-visibility full on everybody is too busy fantasizing to interfere. The only problem is Roberto; the first one on the string, he keeps bumping into people.

Fortunately Morph is on the case and removes Roberto’s glasses, apparently he now has 20/20 eyesight and the specs were making everything blurry... now that he’s an Incubus he’s too focused on sex to cope with much else, he’s busy thinking about sex he wants, sex he’s had, sex he’s planning, all of which having higher priority than why everything’s blurry.

And there we are at the door to the gym. I peer through the wire-grid glass; inside the cheerleaders are balanced in a pyramid, beneath them is a pentagram with Tic-Tac naked and spread-eagled.

“We don’t have much time, they’re turning your friend into a male.” whispered Morph

“Huh?”

“A cheerleader, the male of the species, kind of like a human football player, but with a smaller brain and the same hunger for souls as his mistress.”

Morph probably shouldn’t have told me that. Instead of taking them like a pro sniper, I burst into the gym like John Wayne entering the last chance saloon. If there’d been a piano player he’d have stopped playing and ducked.

I’m too pissed with them to care; I launch myself into the air on my pure white wings landing inside the pentagram, the writing burning my naked feet. There’s a smell within the pentagram, feminine sweat, distinctly different from the male.

The Cheerleaders hiss and scowl, but it seems they don’t want to enter the circle.

“Saunderson!” exclaims Tic-Tac in alarm; he clearly doesn’t want to be rescued.

“It’s me, Dougy! I’m here to rescue you” I say struggling with one of the silk scarves that tie his wrists to the center circle of the basketball court.

“Leave me alone you idiot! I have to feed them my soul so that I can become as one with them. They are going to let me be their creature, existing only to service their needs.” he explains eagerly “I will have no interests outside of the team! I won’t need an education, I won’t need a job or hobbies, or friends...its going to be marvelous!”

I notice that his fingernails are getting longer even as we talk. Time is seriously short.

“You... know what you need Tic?... A fucking girlfriend, that’s what!” I snap, running out of patience with my human friend.

I flip my wrists, darting both him and Joanne. Almost instantly the love-link burns bright. With a howl of victory Joanne leaps from the door to the central circle in a single bound.

Apparently the love-venom stuff over-rides my lust aura thingy. Joanne isn’t interested in my incredibly cute good looks anymore...all she wants is her mate. I’m in the way, so she gives me a backhand slap that sends me flying... no, that’s not the right word; flying implies use of my wings... Hurtling... sends me hurtling into the cheerleaders. It’s like humanoid ten pin bowling.

I swear to you Morph called “Str-IKE!

For a second I’m dazed, and only just miss a swipe by a clawed cheerleader hand. I launch myself into the air flapping hard to gain high altitude, fortunately they’ve got no answer to that and I’m able to shoot one after another. Roaring in victory my ex-nerd-virgin incubi leap into the melee eager to show their mate that they are the most dominant and virile of creatures.

The ex-cheerleaders are no less eager, pushing rutting couples out of the way in order to get to grips with their own precious lover.

I can sense it, the team is shattered, their tails and claws are fading away as each ex-cheerleader focuses her entire attention on getting, inexperienced yet eager Incubus cocks into the correct holes.

Cautiously I glide down to the floor and watch, almost hypnotized as they get it on. My Mr. 9 inch is rock hard and wants to be stroked.

A movement at the far door catches my eye; it’s Marcia, Anne and Suzi. I’ve already shot them once so there’s nothing more I can do if they want trouble.

Then I see a fourth figure... Lambourne Lad, in his dark skinned human form. The Stallion snorts and nods his head in a gesture that’s almost a bow. His hands rests on the shoulders of both Anna and Marcia; both ex-cheerleaders are looking up at him with adoring eyes; something’s gone on there I figure, looks like the old horse knows a few tricks and has somehow gotten himself a herd.

I sort of bow back at him, my wings spreading wide as I do so. He smiles a large white smile and ushers his mares away.

Morph saunters over smiling, he’s looking like a very naked, bigger breasted version of Halley Berry. I take a long moment to admire the look, memorizing the image before he changes into someone ugly.

That’s about the point when good ol’ Mark the fucking Yucca finally breaks through the floor, like the 7th cavalry turning up ten minutes late, sending flowering vines radiating from the hole in the gym floor and filling the air with eye-stinging pollen.

... eye stinging, lust inducing, pollen.

Suddenly it’s no longer enough to watch my couples coupling, I need some of that action. Morph’s ‘real’ gender suddenly becomes irrelevant to both of us. I wrap my wings around her and stand on tiptoe so that our lips can meet in a deeply passionate kiss.

Morph, being Morph quickly adjusts herself so that we are the same height and doesn’t stop there...I can feel one hand cradling my head, another caressing my spine where my wings sprout and two or three more hands busy getting rid of my pants.

Finally I’m getting lucky in the only way that really matters, Mr. 9 inches is buried to his root in what looks like one of the world’s most beautiful women. Ok I admit it, I was a virgin, and as first times go this was first rate, even if she/he/it isn’t human and we’re both, like, like totally doped with pollen.

And then good ol’ Mark’s pollen kicks in its second effect...deep sleep. Fucking thanks, fucking Mark the fucking Yucca!

When we all wake up it’s to find that all our names are on an expelled list tacked to the gym door.

For once the front office had been over efficient and had phoned Mom straight off. Expulsion didn’t go down too well with Mom... my stuff was on the front lawn when I got home.

And there you have it, with nowhere else to go, I took up Morph and Mark’s offer of ‘unusual’ work... a Cupid Boy for hire, with the Exotix Bar as my temporary office, (and bedroom until Barkeep noticed and kicked me out).

What? You were expecting some fucking storybook happy fucking ending? Life ain’t like that.

Anyhow, It’s your round; Mine’s a Slushie.