The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I come awake. A finger in my mouth. Delicious—I try to take a bite—

“Aah! Billy, what the fuck! Why are you trying to bite me!”

He pulled out his finger too fast, and my teeth click on empty air. Disappointing.

I am tied to a chair.

I rock back and forth, trying to loosen the ropes. They are not very well tied.

“Billy, it’s me, Michael. Do you remember what happened, Billy? Do you remember blah blhah bdsflhaa—”

Boring man keeps talking, but I ignore him. SO BORING. Why isn’t he giving me FOOD. I rock back and forth more insistently. I can feel the ropes loosening—

There we go—free!! I bound into the air, landing with my thighs straddling the boring man’s shoulders, his head snugly between my legs. His mouth so close to my cock, but instead of cooperating he screams like last time and stumbles under my weight and—

“SHIT SHIT, NED, GRAB HIM OFF ME—”

I feel a pair of hands behind me, grabbing me by the throat. I struggle and try to turn, snarling, and as I open my mouth, the boring man slips his fingers inside and a thought spreads from his fingers like ink into water, spreading into my head: sleep. sleep. sleep sleep sleep sleepsleepsleepsleeeeepseeeelsleeeeeeeeeeeeee

I come awake. A finger in my mouth. I try to take a bite but he pulls it out too fast—

“Well, I guess it’s still the weird incubus version of Billy.” Boring man stares at his finger, and then at me. He sounds annoyed.

I rock in the chair. I am tied much more securely this time. If I move my head too much, the ropes around my neck pull tight and make it hard to breathe.

It gives me an idea. I make some gagging noises. Maybe they will loosen the ropes around my neck? Then I can escape—

“Oh my god, he’s like a fucking cat. Listen, Billy-nyan, your stupid tricks won’t work. I have a cat at home, and she hates her collar as much as I hate you right now, so wise up. If you want to get free, you better be ready to answer some questions.”

I stop pretending to gag. The boring man smiles.

“Okay. So... do you remember anything about how you got this way?“

I stare at the boring man.

He pinches his nose between his fingers and frowns. “Okay... Do you remember anything about what you told me yesterday?”

“Do you remember where you go to school?”

“Do you remember who I am?”

“Do you... do you remember how to speak English??”

I whimper. I am so hungry. My stomach growls, very loud.

The boring man throws his hands into the air. “Well, at least we can feed him while we try to figure this shit out. Ned?”

“Yes, m’dear?”

“No need to be a smartass, Ned. Do you still have some of that leftover stir fry?”

“Sure do, my sweet lad!”

“Ned...”

Boring man squats in front of me, holding a container with weird-smelling things in it. He puts some on a fork and tries to move it towards my mouth.

After some hesitation, I open my mouth and take a bite. It tastes wrong. Very wrong. Bleagh. BLEAGH. BLEAGHBLEAGHBLEA—

“Oh my god he’s just dribbling it out of his mouth, what the fuck Billy... ugh. It’s like dealing with a fucking cat and a fucking baby, apparently.“

Boring man goes away, then reappears with towels. “Seriously Billy, if you’d told me a week ago that I’d be spending my weekend sponging chewed-up food off your naked chest—”

Man’s hands are now very close to my chest. The warmth from his skin sends shivers down my spine. My tail is tied to the chair leg, but it thumps desperately against its ropes. My cock springs erect, trying to reach the man’s hands, but they are not quite close enough—I mewl aggressively and rock back and forth. My stomach growls again.

The man backs away quickly. He says, “Actually, on second thought, maybe it would be better to wipe you clean while you’re unconscious...” and as I open my mouth to whine, he slips his finger in and—

I come awake. A finger in my mouth. I suck on it gently, trying to keep it in. Maybe he will give me more than a finger if I am good. But he removes his finger so quickly. I mewl and try to beg with my eyes for more. I am so hungry. So, so hungry.

Boring man is saying something but I am not paying attention. I realize that my the rope around my tail has gotten a little loose.

Just... just a little. But I rub it slowly, gently against the rope, and the rope responds. The friction on my tail sends shivers down my spine and my asshole flutters with need. The boring man keeps talking and meanwhile the rope is loosening.

Boring man has stopped talking. He is pinching his nose with his eyes closed. I slip my tail around him, quietly, subtly. Must not draw attention.

“Michael—!”

Oh. I forgot about the other one.

Boring man’s eyes fly open. “What is it, Ned—” but too late (HA HA) and I stick my tail into boring man’s pants, wiggle it around his ass cheeks for a moment while my tail gets it bearings, and then I shove it up his asshole.

He spasms. His eyes bulge. My tail thrusts in deeper, and he jerks forward like a puppet. His arms move so awkwardly. But my tail gets him to collapse on top of me and it is puppeting his body, my clever smart tail, it is making his hands pull off my ropes, stiffly and mechanically. The ropes are torn away.

And I am free.

The other one jumps forward—“Michael!!"—but I take a good look at him, and my body knows what to do, so amazing so smart my body so clever, it rears back my head, and I spit.

It lands directly in his open mouth in the middle of him screaming “Micha—” again, and he chokes and shuts up and freezes like a statue.

I jump forward from my chair, keeping my tail snug inside boring man’s delicious ass. I throw boring man to the ground, wiggling my tail inside his asshole, making him spasm and twitch. I pull down his pants.

His cock springs forward, fully erect. My tail works its way around his insides, sliding back and forth lazily against his prostate. It feels wonderful for me, so hot and tight, and the sensation transmits itself to the rest of my body like the hints of an orgasm tracing its way up and down the scalp of my head. I shiver and try to keep my eyes from fluttering shut in delight. Boring man lets out a groan through gritted teeth. His eyes are stuck wide open, watching me, unable to blink.

I descend on his cock to feast.

And the moment his cock is inside my mouth, I feel an immediate compulsion, like ink into water, to withdraw my tail. Get your tail out of my ass, Billy! So I do.

“URGH” and I am thrown off his cock, shoved to the side, the room spins around me, I am bewildered by the suddenness. I reorient myself. I yell in protest and launch myself at Michael and he grabs me by my wrists and throws me down again. I snarl and pounce up. He grabs me by the horns, trying to wrestle with me. I go instantly limp in his hands. He is master. He tosses me around some more, not letting go of my horns, before he realizes that I have stopped moving or fighting or resisting.

“Why...what the fuck... what’s going on?”

My mouth moves. He is master, and it obeys him. I tell him.

He pauses for a moment.

“Why am I master?”

My mouth continues to tell him. Meanwhile my mind is humming away in the background, an unconnected observer, relishing the feel of his hands on my horns, the absolute dominance, the overwhelming need to serve...

“So if I commanded you to sing a Fiona Apple song while holding your horns...”

—my mouth begins making very strange noises—

“OKAY stop. Uh. Can you fix Ned? Make him... not frozen anymore?”

My mouth tells him how to maneuver me. He drags me by the horns towards Ned, and my cock bumps back and forth against my thigh as we move. It is so excited, so very excited by me being so easily dominated. What a delicious master to have. My mouth spits again. Ned collapses on all fours, coughing.

But master is not watching Ned. He is staring at me, his eyes narrowed. I sense an idea in master’s beautiful head. He asks me, “If I were to ask you to sing a Fiona Apple song and then I let go of your horns, would you still be singing it once I let go?”

My mouth explains to him.

Master smiles. Master is pleased!!

I grin back. I am so happy.

Master is now no-longer-master, which makes me sad. But he has said things to me when he was master. So my body thrills and obeys.

Leave Ned completely alone.

I prowl around the room, carefully stepping around Ned. Ned sits in a chair and stares at me, then looks down at his glowy thing.

I circle around the room again and this time I make it a game. I leap onto the desk—

Don’t knock anything over.

—daintily, perfectly. Nothing spills. I tip-toe across the desk, my tail lashing. I aim thoughtfully for the bookshelf next, take a leap—

Stay in the room and don’t try to leave.

I balance on the bookshelf. My horns are erect and my cock is beginning to drip with need but my body ignores them and stays in the room, stays compliant. My body obeys.

My body is still hungry, and very bored.

I aim carefully, take a leap, and land on a chair. The chair skids a little bit but nothing is knocked over—

“Hey, can you STOP!”

Ned is shouting at me but I haven’t done anything. I wrinkle my nose at him. Rude!

Now Ned is speaking into his glowy thing. “Michael! I miss you! No, I’m okay, I... Listen, could you knock him out or something? No... no, he didn’t do anything. He’s just being a pest. He’s playing The Floor Is Lava or something but his dick is just wobbling all over the place, it’s kind of disconcerting. … Okay yeah I can ignore it, just... hurry up, won’t you? I’ll feel better when you’re here. And I feel weird playing babysitter to... well.”

I can’t find a way to get off the chair without landing on the floor. So I fall onto the floor, very dramatically. I roll around the floor. My dick leaves small trails of precum everywhere but I am not knocking anything over and I am very careful to avoid rolling into furniture.

Moments later, I hear the door open. I look up to see Michael walk into the room. He is carrying a small bag. “Nothing much in Billy’s room,” he says. “I grabbed a couple things, but I’m not sure if they’re important.” He empties his bag onto his bed. Some boring-looking things tumble out onto the blanket but I don’t see them very well. I am too busy staring at the flex of Michael’s biceps. I long to lick them.

Ned says, “Is that... garlic?”

“Yeah and I found a silver cross too. And a bag of salt. Well, bath salts, but same principle. I mean, clearly none of it worked, but it makes it look like he was waiting for something, doesn’t it? It’s as if he was throwing in everything he could, in hope something would stick and end up repelling whatever ‘guest’ he was clearly expecting. Though... I think that means these changes definitely aren’t some sort of epidemic. We can rule that out. It really looks more like Billy was planning on having some sort of vampire or demon show up at his door.”

Ned says, “And you think it succeeded?”

I can feel them turn to look at me. I grin and roll over, panting, to expose my asshole.

“Yeah,” says Ned, “you know what, forget I asked.”

Michael says, “What I don’t get is: how did Billy know it was coming for him next? Is there something that triggers it, or summons it? Is it passed along like a cursed video tape or something, and he knew he was next? I can’t figure that part out.”

“Why not ask him?” Ned sounds sarcastic. I roll back over so I can look at him and stroke my cock suggestively. My tail lashes with arousal.

Michael swallows uncomfortably and then says, “Actually, asking him might be a good idea. I wonder...”

He comes up to me and squats down. I moan softly, my balls shifting. A drop of precum forms at the tip of my cock.

Michael swallows again and says, “Billy, kneel for me,” and at that trigger phrase, I kneel for no-longer-master, presenting my horns, and he clasps them.

And I sigh with delight, because he is master again, ready to command me, so deliciously.

Master’s voice says, “Billy, tell me what happened when you were in your dorm last night. Were you expecting a visitor?”

Yes, my mouth tells him, oh yes.

“Did the visitor arrive as expected.”

Oh, yes. Absolutely yes.

“Can you describe him to me?”

Tall, my mouth says, muscular, male. With antlers. Covered in blue tattoos. I whimper in the back of my throat. How I want master to spread me, to plunder me—master keeps asking me questions, and my mouth keeps answering them, and my mind wanders to other things. I think about what it would be like to have master’s mouth poised over my asshole, gently lapping at it, my asshole opening and welcoming his touch—

Suddenly I snap to alertness. Something is wrong. My mouth is making very strange noises. Not like words at all.

Master says, “I said, tell me more about this Throne,” and my mouth does it again, like a gagging noise. Michael says, “Tell me how to stop the Throne, or break the Throne,” and I shudder. Master has triggered something in my head. A wave of white over my vision. Drowning in white.

And then it’s gone, and something has dislodged from my mind.

Master is not entirely master anymore.

I shudder in his grip, shaking a horn free from one of his hands, and he says “Oh shit—” and slips his finger into my mouth again, so delectable—but this time, it doesn’t work on me.

I suckle on master’s finger in my mouth. Very carefully, I nick the skin with my tooth.

The venom enters his blood stream a moment later. Master collapses to the floor, no-longer-master, and I hear Ned scream, but I am faster, and I descend on no-longer-master’s cock, painfully hard from my venom, and the moment my mouth closes around it, it fires off in my mouth and FINALLY

delicious

I am so hungry

I gulp it down, and as the warmth of it blooms through my body, I understand that all of no-longer-master’s commands to me have broken. I have swallowed his cum and now I no longer have to do anything he says.

I leap to the window sill, screaming with delight, and my hands throw open the window and I leap out, and I feel a tingling at my shoulder blades. It is night outside, delicious night with stars in the sky singing to me. My body knows what to do. It unfurls shadowy wings made out of air. It soars me into the sky, into a midnight full of food for my vast hunger. My tail lashes with delight.

I soar up, up, trailing my hunger like a vast fisherman’s net.

Earlier that day... before the sun had set, and before Michael and Ned had tried to quarantine an incubus, and failed... Nickel had been spending his afternoon persuading Ivan to go with him into the woods behind the music building.

“Why are you so insistent on this again?” said Ivan, grumbling as he stepped carefully around the leafy puddles in the dirt. He really should have worn something other than his dress shoes for this excursion. But even on the weekends, it was hard for him to break his habit of a precise dress code.

Nickel was tugging him forward, puppy-like as always, jittery with excitement. “You’ll see, it’s a surprise!” His enthusiasm made Ivan smile fondly. He remembered how enthusiastic Nickel had been just an hour earlier, desperately riding Ivan’s cock while Ivan relaxed in his favorite armchair and casually sipped his coffee. It had been Ivan’s post-orgasmic bliss that had led him to agree so readily to Nickel’s strange request, to accompany him to the woods behind the music building so that Nickel could ‘show him something really awesome’.

Normally Ivan wouldn’t dream of bothering to step near the music building during his off hours. He liked to keep a firm line between work and pleasure, thank you very much. Which just went to show how central Nickel had become to the “pleasure” part of his life, that he was willing to do this for him.

Speaking of which. Where had Nickel gone? Ivan stopped where he stood, surrounded by trees. Nickel had vanished.

“Nickel?” Ivan called his name again, louder this time. Was this the surprise? Was Nickel going to leap out from behind a tree and shout ‘ha ha gotcha’ or something? Ivan wrapped his arms around himself. The only thing moving was an art student’s installation of mirrors, hanging from the nearby trees. Some smartass had nicknamed it the Garden of Mirrors, and all it meant was that birds kept flying into the mirrors and then wondering what had happened.

Ivan shivered. It was very quiet in these woods. He couldn’t hear anything from the campus. He couldn’t hear Nickel anywhere either. Somehow he didn’t think Nickel meant to jump out and scare him. Nickel didn’t have a scheming bone in his body. At least, not anymore. Not since he’d become the affectionate, puppy-like teacher’s pet who fed into very lustful fantasy Ivan had ever had—

“Nickel!” Ivan shouted his name again, and sunk down onto his heels. It was getting dark. Should he go looking for Nickel? What if he’d gotten hurt? But how. How had he vanished like that. He remembered hearing some rumor about male students vanishing into the woods. But that was just a prank, wasn’t it? What was going on... He shivered, a sudden wave of longing and neediness overwhelming his body. He moaned softly. What would he do without Nickel? He needed him. He wanted him near. He felt suddenly insecure without his presence.

The wave of longing and neediness washed over him again. He needed Nickel so much, he panted for him. Ivan whined in the back of his throat. His whole life was about Nickel, where had he gone—

A voice said, “There you are,” and Ivan jumped up. It was Nickel! Nickel was standing there, looking smug and assured and so, so sexy... Just the sight of him made Ivan’s mouth hang open. His darling Nickel. His sweet, delicious, masterful Nickel. Then Ivan realized he was drooling. Like, actually drooling. He wiped the drool with the back of his hand, hoping Nickel hadn’t noticed.

Nickel was walking toward him. “Hey babe. Sorry that took so long. The adjustment took a bit longer than... he... had anticipated. But I think it worked. Did it work? My little pet? My little cockhound?”

Ivan groaned at those nicknames. He felt... he felt... his cock felt painfully hard. It was straining against his dress pants. He wanted Nickel to call him those names again. He badly wanted to be Nickel’s cockhound. He wanted to prove himself to Nickel so much. “Please...” he whimpered.

“What’s that? Is there something you want, my little fuckdog?”

Ivan groaned again, biting his bottom lip to keep himself under control.

Nickel grinned and leaned forward, grabbing his professor by the collar of his dress shirt so that it popped the buttons, pulled Ivan toward his face. He gave a long, slow lick across his professor’s cheek, while Ivan shuddered and tried his best to avoid cumming right on the spot.

Nickel said, “Down on your knees, pet,” and Ivan immediately sank to his knees, his body singing with pleasure at the thought of doing anything, and everything, that Nickel commanded him to do. His dress slacks were grinding into the mud, his shoes were ruined, but he didn’t care. Nickel unzipped his jeans and fished out his cock, tapping it against Ivan’s face. It left trails of precum all over Ivan’s cheeks, and Ivan sniffed and squirmed with excitement at the smell. He realized he was drooling again.

“Aw, cutie pie. My cock makes you drool, huh. Why don’t you tell me how my cock makes you feel, huh, puppy?”

Ivan groaned and huffed, trying to say something. Then his eyes shot open. He realized he couldn’t say anything at all. He whimpered. His ability to form words had vanished. He huffed and growled but nothing else came out. His heart began to beat fast in his chest. He snorted with panic.

“Yeah,” said Nickel, smiling knowingly, “it’s the sight of my cock, I know. Leaves you speechless. Literally speechless. You’ll get your words back, don’t worry... after you suck a load out of this cock. But I have a feeling you’ll lose your words again the next time you see it, my little puppy. The sight of my cock does that to you now. It just makes you a hungry animal for my cock.”

Ivan was only half-listening to him, because at Nickel’s words ‘suck a load out of this cock’ Ivan couldn’t help himself anymore. The lust overwhelmed his panic and he dove wordlessly onto Nickel’s pole. Nickel groaned as Ivan swallowed his cock, gulping around its heavy weight, relishing the feel of it in his mouth. Ivan felt Nickel grip his hair, and Ivan’s eyes fluttered at the feeling of Nickel yanking at it, his fingers squeezing into his scalp. Nickel murmured, “fuck your face on my cock, pet,” and before Ivan could even process the words he’d began fucking his face onto Nickel’s cock. He felt his thighs spreading into the mud without conscious thought, his back arching, as he drove Nickel’s cock further and further into his throat. He peered up at Nickel, eyes watering. Nickel grinned down at him and pursed his lips, making the sort of kissy noises you’d make at a well-trained dog. Ivan almost came from that alone.

Behind them, someone was doing a slow clap while stepping forward through the woods. “Well, well. Stellar performance, Nickel. And Ivan. I didn’t know you had it in you. Look at that.” Neither Ivan nor Nickel paid much attention to their sudden audience, too enraptured in each other’s bliss.

Yamir didn’t mind, though. He stopped his slow clap, and he raised a hand, gesturing at the people in the woods behind him. A crowd of naked college guys were stepping out of the woods too. They formed a circle around Ivan as he got face-fucked by Nickel.

The sun had set, and the light was fading from the sky. Yamir stretched and yawned, his nude muscular body shifting its weight from one leg to another. Without him having to say anything, some of the naked guys stepped forward from the circle and knelt down, forming a makeshift chair out of their kneeling bodies.

Yamir reclined back in his human-body chair. He’d nabbed Nickel that morning when Nickel had walked by the woods on his way to brunch. Yamir had given him a command that Nickel wouldn’t be able to ignore. As a result, Nickel had brought Ivan to these woods without even knowing why he was doing it, without even remembering that Yamir had commanded him to do so...

And now, why, look at what Yamir had managed to do. Yamir had taken one of the pale god’s injunctions and altered it. Reversed it. I wish I could be his teacher’s pet. Now the teacher had become the pet, and the student was the new master.

And Yamir: perhaps Yamir would be the new master too.

To be honest, neither Ivan nor Nickel had probably wanted the switch to happen. They’d seemed happy, before. They’d enjoyed their previous arrangement. (Just like Yamir had enjoyed his previous life, once. But that was a thought which vanished almost as soon as it appeared: immediately suppressed by the rest of the thoughts currently dominating Yamir’s body.)

Look at them. They were so happy, now. Nickel, panting and gasping as he flooded Ivan’s throat with his cum. Ivan, cumming himself without even touching his cock, soaking his overpriced wool slacks with his jizz.

Yamir smiled. All the guys in the woods smiled too. Even Adam smiled, though he was totally naked now, dominated entirely by Yamir’s presence. Yamir no longer needing clothing to make Adam into his fucktoy. Adam was part of the human throne supporting Yamir’s body. Anonymous, just another body. The old Yamir had a special affection for Adam. The new Yamir could care less.

It was getting dark, but Yamir didn’t need light to see anymore. There was a wind, but Yamir didn’t feel the cold anymore either. In fact, Yamir just didn’t feel much like Yamir these days, but that wasn’t something he was capable of noticing or acting on, currently. He was too busy becoming the potential for something else.

My wings carried me through the night sky. My tailed lashed. I glanced down. My incubus sight could see the college laid out below me. So small and fragile-looking.

I thought, FOOD, and tried to swing down, to raze the campus, to hunt—but my wings fluttered, and I listened to them. I stayed in the air.

I could hear it now too.

There was a woosh of other things, traveling very fast, very close to me. Invisible roads in the sky. The roads were made of wind, carved into the black night air. My mouth chattered nervously. There were others in the sky with me. Beings like me, maybe. Not quite like me. Similar. Many varieties. But they were only passing through.

They were hurrying through the night sky, folding the space and air behind them, and then twitching it open in front of them, twinkling out of existence. Rushing down these invisible pathways, high above the college.

I whined and lifted up, thrusting myself into the rapid flow of one of their roads. It was like being caught in a rushing tide. The others raced on, mostly ignoring me. But a few exclaimed and circled me. They began laughing. We dropped out of the flow, hovering in the air above the college, the moonlight shining on our bodies. I was laughing right back at them. We danced around each other, delighted. I realized their laughter was talking, in a way. I could talk back, too, with my laughter. They understood the language of my amusement.

They knew I wasn’t real, not in the way that they were real. I’d only been like them for a day. They thought that was very funny.

We laughed and laughed, and I explained, and they explained, and it turned out they knew very well what sort of things were happening. They found it delightful. Because, with me, the pale god had gotten too ambitious, and he’d made a mistake.

I learned from what they were saying. They explained it all to me. I learned so much.

When they were done, they kissed me on both cheeks and departed back into their night road. And now, thanks to them, I understood much more.

I looked down on the campus spread below me like a picnic blanket, and my stomach roared with hunger and lust, and I laughed and I laughed...

Ned said, “Why are we doing this again?”

“Because,” said Michael, dragging his wagon of acid and chemicals that he’d stolen from the chemistry labs, “everything seems to connect to the Throne, and I think it would be prudent to see what would happen if we tried to destroy it.”

“Okay,” said Ned. He was dragging his own wagon, which Michael had filled with power tools and chisels and hammers. Whatever he could find. Ned smiled. His head still felt fuzzy. A bit like he was drunk. But he liked being with Michael. Even if this was kind of a weird date.

You don’t really go on dates, though. Ned’s brain whispered to itself. True, the fuzzy part of his mind acknowledged, they didn’t really go on dates. But it was Michael! If Michael said it, then it was all fine, right?

The real Ned, buried somewhere in his own head inside a mental pile of cotton balls, grumbled that Michael had aways been an idiot and this plan was just as stupid as anything he’d ever done.

This Ned just shrugged and continued pulling his wagon up the hill towards the Throne. They could see it now. The Throne did look like it was glowing, though maybe it was just the light. Ned’s mind wandered and he wondered if he could persuade Michael to fuck him after... Michael was so hot and Ned was so horny...

Michael said, “Right, let’s get to work!” and grabbed the biggest plastic jug of chemicals. “Ned, come here and help me, won’t you?”

Ned said, “If you want to mess up the Throne, then why not just use that sledgehammer that’s lying right by it?”

Michael stared at the sledgehammer. Ned didn’t say anything, too busy staring at the bulge in Michael’s pants. After a moment, Michael said, “That sledgehammer feels like a Billy idea. Which means, if that didn’t work...”

“Hey,” said Ned, “is that a comet or something?” and Michael looked up in time to see me. Me, rocketing out of the sky. Screaming with delight, my tail fluttering behind me. Time to FEED!

There was a lot of yelling. I ignored it, mostly. I found myself on top of Ned. Michael was shouting, “NO!” and I was thinking, I already tasted that boring man today. I will taste this boring man instead. I clawed at Ned’s pants, and there it was. His delicious, delicate cock. It was small and withdrawn right now, fearful, but that wasn’t a problem. I breathed on it, musky breath, and it sprang to life.

Someone yelled, “BASTARD!” and a heavy metal thing hit me on the head. I snarled at the pain, and my tail shot out and did something, and the boring yelling man got very quiet.

The man below me was whimpering. I smiled at him, patted his chest fondly, and descended on his throbbing erect cock to feast.

It took only a moment, and then there it was, delicious nectar. It filled me. Bliss! The man groaned and passed out, spent from my feeding.

and

and

Oh my god.

I began to feel it returning.

I sat up, dazed, resting on my haunches. Ned lay below me, passed out from an incubus-feeding daze. Michael was to my right, my own tail wrapped too tightly around his neck. I hurriedly relaxed it and he fell to the ground, wheezing.

Earlier today, Ned had swallowed my brain.

And now I’d swallowed his cum, and I’d swallowed it back.

I had my brain again.

And I knew what we needed to do to stop this.

We huddled around the Throne. Michael had grabbed a tarp from one of the wagons and wrapped it around me, to keep me warm. I didn’t bother telling him that I didn’t feel the cold anymore. It was too weird to admit aloud how inhuman my body had become.

Michael said, “You say you were talking to... other demons? Like you? And they’re flying above our college... right now? Shouldn’t we be really worried about that?!”

“No,” I said, “I don’t think it works that way. They’re not malevolent. And also, they’re not demons. At least, not most of them. They were all so different from each other. They all looked really different too. I don’t think they’re a part of our world, normally. We’re not so interesting to them.”

“So how do you explain, you know, all this? Clearly someone got interested in us. You’ve got fucking horns, Billy!“

“And a tail,” added Ned, unhelpfully.

“Well,” I said slowly, “if I’m remembering right, based on what they told me... and you have to understand, they don’t really talk like we do. I mean, I myself wasn’t really talking like we do. It was my body, communicating with their bodies. But they seemed to think that something... something very much like them... had been living in that for a long time.“

We all turned to look at the Throne.

“And, if what they told me is right, then it sounds like it was meant to be trapped there forever. A lot of layers, trapping it in the Throne, and keeping it dormant. They didn’t really understand why it woke up in the first place—”

“Blood,” said Ned suddenly. We turned to look at him. He was grinning at me, a little spaced out, but he said, “It must have been the blood from that horrible stupid screamo-rock performance where they decapitated that chicken and spilled its blood all over the Throne.”

OH shit. Trust Ned the vegan to remember that. I’d been talking about it with Yamir, and yet I’d managed to forget all about it. And I knew Ned was right. I could remember how the blood had left stains all over the Throne for days after—and then, I realized the stains weren’t on the Throne anymore. I stood up and examined it. There hadn’t been any rain recently. Had it been washed away? Or... absorbed, somehow?

“Okay,” I said, “so blood awoke the thing inside the Throne. And then... it couldn’t act. He couldn’t act, unless a request was made by someone sitting on the Throne... A stated desire, or a wish...“

Michael was nodding now too. “Like King Solomon’s djinns. Trapped in a bottle, forced to grant wishes. I understand now.”

I yelled, “You don’t understand! It’s not just about granting wishes—even if every wish he granted gave him more power. I think he must feed on lust, or shame... But that’s not the point. The point is that his end game is using those wishes to create a fucking vessel for himself. It’s how he can escape.“

Michael stood up too and began pacing. “What do you mean, a vessel? Like—a body for himself? How does that even work?”

I said, “Yeah. A way to escape the Throne. Using the wishes as a way to... corrupt people. To make them closer and closer to something like himself. So that they can become himself. Or at least, a vessel for himself. Like a bottle in just the right shape. Then he can move out of the Throne for good, and into his new body. And I think he’s coming really close to succeeding.”

Michael was counting on his fingers now. “Okay. So people would sit on the Throne, and makes casual wishes or requests without realizing they were doing it. And it would affect people on the campus. Like you, or me. You made that list of suspected targets, Billy, so let’s see if I’m getting this right. We have Kevin, who definitely got Throned, and he got super lusty. But I don’t know if that exactly counts as prime vessel material? Billy, I’m not sure if this theory holds up—”

I flailed my tail in irritation. “Not all the damn wishes can be shaped like that, you idiot. If someone wishes for a fruit tart, you can’t exactly manhandle that wish into prime vessel real estate, can you? But look at you, you’ve suddenly got this magical ability to—”

Michael hissed at me, ”Shut up,” and his eyes twitched to Ned, who was staring at us obliviously—unusually oblivious, for someone normally as focused as Ned—and I thought, oh no. Michael. You didn’t. Not to Ned?

Michael said, “I have the ability to... okay. I can see how that could... lead to corruption. Or power.”

“Exactly,” I said. “And I think that the more power a vessel has, or attains, then the easier it is to corrupt it, or take over...” I ticked off another finger. “Though, there’s also Adam, who didn’t really gain any power from what I can see, but I think he definitely got Throned because he fits the pattern of victims—”

“Wait,” said Ned, interrupting us. “Didn’t you tell me how Adam is now a blank slate, whose own reflection seems to have disconnected from his body, and who turns into whatever outfit you dress him as?”

We both stared at Ned.

“What?” said Ned. “I mean, that seems kind of obvious, right? Prime vessel real estate, right? Of a different sort, maybe? Very easy to take over?”

“Well,” said Michael, “when you phrase it that way, then fuck, yeah, that does seem obvious.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Though, honestly, Billy, based on what you’re describing, don’t you think that you’re his ideal vessel? I mean, it sounds like he wants his vessel to be powerful, and similar to him... And, here you are, a kinda terrifying demon creature...“

I winced. It was true, though it hurt to hear. I said, “You have to remember, whatever he was working with, there was always an element of luck. Whatever wish or command fell into his hands. I think every wish that he was given, every potential command, was a chance to try to create another potential vessel.” I nudged my toes against the dozens of linden seedlings sprouting at the base of the Throne. “Casting as many seeds as he could, in hopes that one of them grows into just what he needs. So I was one of those seeds. But so were you. So were all of us. All of us who got Throned.”

Michael was pacing back and forth. “No, listen, I think the vessel was meant to be you, Billy. Or at least, it was his best shot so far. Because yeah, I can do... stuff... but that’s NOTHING compared to what you’ve been dishing out! But you’re also so fucking vulnerable, like, it’s the way that Adam’s identity has disconnected from his body. But you’re like that too. All he needs to do is make you cum, and bam, Billy’s gone. All that’s left is this demonic shell, and he can expand you, stretch you further away from who you used to be... and then move right in.“

Michael stopped pacing and whirled to face me. “But something went different than expected. Or, at least, something went way better, for him, than he’d anticipated.“

I said, “What do you mean?” and then I thought, oh no. I did know what he meant. Yamir. I could remember it, now that I’d flown through the sky and talked to those creatures. I could remember being fucked on the Throne by... Yamir, but different. Yamir, but incredible. A sex god. I examined that memory, and I realized: oh shit. Yamir’s wish was what turned me into this. Then I thought, wait, I think it was also my wish that turned Yamir into... the utterly best fuck I’d ever had in my life. I realized I shouldn’t be thinking about that memory in this body, because my hole was beginning to pulse. I groaned lightly, hoping Michael and Ned wouldn’t notice, because it was embarrassing to admit, but I was getting a hard-on, just thinking about the way Yamir had dominated me, grinned at me, made me his total absolute bitch without the slightest effort... God, I wanted to feel that again... I could feel my horns extending out of my head, heady with lust...

Wait, something was wrong.

I looked up. Michael was on his hands and knees, panting. I could smell his lust. Ned was lying on his back on the grass, eyes closed and mouth hanging open, his hand shoved down his jeans as he pulled on his cock.

There was a strong wind. I could hear the Garden of Mirrors jangling in the woods nearby. I could feel movement on the ground. Heavy footsteps, approaching from the trees behind the Throne. My overwhelming lust grew stronger and stronger as the figure approached, waves of desire to submit, to be mastered—

I fell to the ground, my forehead pressed into the soil. I arched my ass into the air, my tail lashing. Behind me, I could see two powerful bare feet, moving slowly. My tail corkscrewed with a desire to be grabbed, dominated.

The feet stopped, just a few feet away from Ned and Michael. The three of us scrabbled across the ground, prostrated ourselves in front of him. Our hard dicks dragged across the ground, heavy with desire. Behind him, I could see a crowd of guys. All the guys who had disappeared into the woods. Naked, hard. Craving nothing more than to serve their new god.

“Well, well,” said Yamir’s voice, his velvety voice, making my asshole pulse with need, “What do we have here?”