Eight Pleas On A Starry Night

Eight Pleas on a Starry Night

Eight Cups a Day

Eight Memories a Minute

All that this creature knew from the moment of its "birth," was to consume. The moment it first began to understand "itself" and "the world," it absorbed whatever was in front of it. Just as babes from the womb yearn for their mother's womb, these slimes feast upon segments of their host's brains. There was no thought and no malice behind; instead, it was pure instinct. Consume and assimilate as much as the host's brain would allow until complete takeover.

The moment this creature, now male due to his host, opened his eyes, he saw the sight of another looking at him with emotion the creature couldn't quite understand just yet. However, through pure instinct and the slight connection they shared as a species, he knew that this was his brother. “Ah, hello,” he greeted with pure innocence.

“H-Hey,” his brother responded, sounding not unlike the people the creature saw in his host’s memories. How skillful was he at hiding amongst these humans? “D-Do you know who I am? Do you know who you are? What’s your name?” Now, he spoke aggressively, but alongside another set of emotions.

Not wanting to disappoint his brother, the creature said, “I do not recall,” with complete assurance. “I seem to be quite adept at assimilating my host’s memories, unfortunately. It looks as though I cannot be a unit that can infiltrate any of these people.”

His brother shut his eyes, as though he had swallowed something harsh, before saying, “You are Nolan. Your name is Nolan.”

“Nolan. Understood.”

“And I’m F-Forde. My name is Forde.” Forde took a deep breath, his hand brushing up against Nolan’s. Then, he intertwined their fingers together. “Do you really not remember me? When we looked at the stars together?"

Nolan shook his head. “Am I supposed to? I am sorry if I am not up to your standards, brother.” Squeezing Forde’s hand—was it his host’s natural response?—Nolan said, “I will do better in the future. Do not worry.”

Forde nodded as he drew his hand back to his chest. There was an emotion on Forde’s face that Nolan did not recognize, so he ignored it.

The creature inside of Alan stared up at the summer night. He had a fleeting thought of the few stars that shined despite the town's light pollution and wondered if that was where he and his kin came from. However, he quickly dismissed that line of thought. It was not important for their invasion, so it was unnecessary. He was reeling from these useless thoughts that continued to plague him ever since the day he emerged from the sea.

Most of his brothers had perished when he had managed to infect Forde. He could only convert one person and implant his sole offspring before his brothers, unable to speak to him and cry for help, dried up. All he could do now was ignore any sort of sentimentalism that burdened him and press on forward.

“I am an invader,” the invader said to himself, floating naked on the surface of the pool. “Then, why do I have these regrets?”

Regret was a sentiment that his host, Alan, was familiar with. Words left unsaid, arguments he couldn't take back, and a life that was snuffed due to a misunderstanding. The list was long but also faded. By now, the invader had engulfed most of Alan's memories, so there was very little he could recall with any clarity. All he could see was a series of faded images.

It mattered little, the invader decided. The lingering feelings didn’t matter. All that was important was to breed and infect. That was the final purpose they had.

“Alan, there’s someone at the door.”

Ah, that was unexpected. Alan swam to the edge of the pool and pulled himself out. “Do you know who it is, brother?”

He nodded. “It’s your friend—or rather, it’s your host’s friend,” said Forde. “He texted you, and I responded, and one thing left to another...” he said, nonchalantly while pointing his thumb to the front of the house. “And now he’s here. You gonna…?”

“I’ll have to infect him,” said the invader as he dried himself off. “There’s nothing else that can be done.”

“Right, well Nolan is by the door if you need any assistance.”

The invader raised an eyebrow. “Will you not help me?”

“I'm sorta tired if we're being honest. Maybe some other time?" Forde said with a shrug and a grin.

The invader narrowed his eyes but didn't say anything in response. He walked past Forde, but stopped right before crossing the doorway. “You are my offspring, and yet you are so different from your brother and myself. Why is that?” There was far too much personality, whether from the host or from the possessor itself. It was odd.

Forde’s gaze grew distant. “I wonder why myself,” he muttered. “But never mind that. Your friend’s in the front, and Nolan’s in position to help you infect him.”

“And your family? The ones who own this home?”

“Won’t be back until Monday. We’ve got plenty of time.”

The invader had suspicions rise, but he pushed them to the back of his mind. There were more pressing matters to attend to. “Please, watch over your siblings.” The invader didn’t wait for a response. He processed the information carefully and he dried off and dressed.

“Alan, hey!” Forde was right. A friend of Alan, a great deal younger—about middle-aged—stood in front of the doorway. The invader could not access much of Alan's memories, so the man was a stranger to him. However, he was knowledgeable enough to recognize the glint in the man's eyes.

“Thank you for coming.”

“Came as soon as I could,” the man said, smiling brightly as he spoke to Alan. “Said you needed my help? Say, what’s this place anyway? How come you’re here?” With narrowed eyes, the man leaned in and whispered, “Ain’t that kid a li’l too young for you? Seems kinda weird if you ask me.”

Alan shook his head. “He’s a family friend. Said he needed help moving a couch. Could you help me?”

The suspicion in the man’s eyes cleared, and he eagerly nodded. “Sure! I’ll give you hand. Lead the way.”

[LINE BREAK]

Forde was panting by the time he entered the house again. What he walked into didn’t surprise him, but he still had to fight the urge to gag.

“Hello, nngg, Forde!” Nolan greeted him as he fucked Alan’s convulsing friend. “This one has almost finished his conversion. Would you like to assist me?"

“I think I’ll pass,” Forde said, grimacing. His eyes lingered on the man before turning over to the sleeping Alan on the couch. “Alan’s asleep?”

“Yes, mmm. He-fuck—s-said creating so many offspring has left him exhausted. Will probably sleep until the party tomorrow.”

The party…

Forde took a deep breath, trying to calm his breathing. “Nolan, when you’re… finished, meet me in my room, all right?”

“Which—“

“The one closest to the bathroom. You can’t miss it.”

“Right."

Forde lied back on his bed, attempting to erase the image of Nolan happily plowing another man’s ass out of his head. There was no doubt that what he had seen was the truth, but it carried such wrongness to it that he couldn’t help to wind back to it. Nothing about Nolan seemed to have remained. The chipper friendliness and eagerness to please was something that would have disgusted Nolan and now it disgusted Forde. Not even the memories were there. At most, the one possessing Nolan could remember some family members, last name, and his street address.

Everything else, including that night under the stars, was gone.

“Is this my punishment?” asked Forde, unsure if God would answer the pleas of a parasite. “Is this what I deserve for killing Forde?" That sin would remain with him for the rest of his life. It didn't matter if he believed he was Forde and inherited the name, the body, and the memories, the original was gone. If Forde ever left this body, it would remain a hollow husk. The organs would function, but there would be no brain activity. It would be no different than a vegetable.

Yet, Forde could not deny his greedy nature—as a parasite and a man. I still want to be happy, he thought. God, Alan, and the world itself can shame and hate me for it, but I still want to live a happy life. He knew how shameless that desire was, but did not care. The pain and pleasure that he has known in his short time as a human only stroked the hungry flames that burned in his heart.

The door opened, and Nolan walked in, still naked. “I am here, brother,” he announced, as though it wasn’t obvious.

Forde drew the sheets back and scooted to the side of the bed. “Close the door, and lie with me.”

“Hmm? Will we be sleeping on the same bed?”

“Yeah. Keep me company for tonight, will ya?”

“I see no reason to decline.” Without any shame, Nolan lied right next Forde. Their bare shoulders were touching, but only one of them understood the implications,

“Nolan, do you remember what happened when we went camping that night?”

“I do not.”

“Yeah, I figured,” said Forde, preparing himself. His hand was trembling, and he was sweating all over. Why couldn’t he calm himself? “Could you… Could you do me a favor, br-brother…?” When Nolan said yes, Forde nearly sobbed. After a deep, uneven breath, he said, “Please, gather yourself in your host’s mouth. I have to show you something.”

Unquestionably, Nolan did so. He opened his mouth, the blue slime lying on top of his tongue. Even in that form, he looked completely innocent.

Forde ripped over the packet of salt and poured it on his own tongue, cringing from the taste. Then, he leaned over and kissed Nolan’s lips before swiftly drawing back, the aftertaste of the salt lingering in his now empty mouth. The effect was immediate.

Nolan’s body began to violently convulse. “Wh-What did you d-do?!” Nolan cried out, spitting out the salt and now bits of foam. “Br-Brother?!” His eyes rolled to the back of his head and spat out more and more foam—the remains of his desiccated body. Forde shut his eyes and covered his ears.

Just like snails and slugs, their species would dry out when their real forms were exposed to concentrated amounts of salt due to osmosis. Even though they originated from the ocean, the intense amount of salt would still kill them. It only due to Forde’s biology degree that he could figure that out. And because of that, he knew that there was a chance Alan didn’t know that, either. This was his only weapon… the only thing he had to stop the invasion.

And yet…

Forde jumped as Nolan grabbed his arm in desperation. He opened his eyes and the image burned itself into his memory. He was dying. Nolan, the slime, whatever, was dying. Because of him. Because of what Forde did. He’s just a parasite, a murderer, Forde kept thinking as the convulsing began to cease. “I had to, I had to...” he kept muttering to himself, even as tears trailed down his cheeks.

He was a murderer just like me.

Now, he was staring at Nolan’s still-breathing body. There was no life in his eyes, but his chest still rose and fell, and his mouth was still agape. The slime, his brother, was gone. And Nolan was gone too. Two more lives that Forde had snuffed out, and tomorrow he would have to do it again.

He tried to smile. “Nolan...” he said, embracing the brain-dead husk. “Nolan, Nolan… Nolan… I love you,” he said, caressing Nolan’s unmoving face. “I saved you, I did it… you’re okay now.” Forde pressed his face on Nolan’s left pectoral. His heart continued to beat despite how empty it was. “You’re free, you’re okay. I k-killed the parasite, I did it for you…! So, you’ll forgive me, right?” There was no response, no matter how much Forde pleaded. However, he continued. "Please, please tell me you'll forgive me. You and Forde will forgive me, right? Please, please, for the love of God, please help me...”

Neither God nor Nolan answered him that night.

FEStival Fiasco

Part 1

He Who Stands Amongst the Worms

Centaurus, from the day he hatched, had an intimate connection with the idea of hunger. During his youth, rarely did a day go by where he didn’t struggle to sleep due to the hunger pangs in his belly. Food was always scarce, and thus always tasted good. Only the vilest and expired garbage had no place in his stomach. What came out of that lonely and wretched life was a person that thrived in the Nebula Academy—the place where his body could feast on another.

As Centaurus crawled through the vents, his stomach began to growl. Already it was aching from the scent of chemicals that the human brain swam in. However, grabbing any host was a sure sign to immediately fail. The goals were clear-cut and set:

    Minimum three human hosts    

    Must not attract unneeded attention that requires intervention from the professor. Failure to do so will result in an automatic failure    

    At least one transfer between hosts must be in a crowded area. Stealth is key

Searching for a lone host throughout these apartments was the optimal way to start, and Centaurus didn’t doubt that his classmates were thinking the exact same way. All of them, he soon noticed, except for a certain member of his class. Sneaking through the vents, Centaurus caught sight of a man convulsing on his bed, the tail end of one of Centaurus’ classmates, Mizar, slipping through his mouth. While Centaurus watch, he heard the sounds of the shower running in the other room. Clever, thought Centaurus. While it didn’t fit the conventional use of “crowded,” the fact that another human stood just a few feet away fulfilled the requirement. But not clever enough. Sorry, Mizar, but it was a good attempt.

Though Centaurus was uncertain if taking the person in the shower would really count as crowded for him as well due to one of their own already inhabiting it, the opportunity that lay before him was far too sweet to pass up. He crawled through the events and made his way over to the apartment’s bathroom. Steam filled up the entire room as the inhabitant washed his body. Muscular and large—how Centaurus liked them.

Slithering through the bathroom, making sure to remain out of sight, Centaurus made his way to where the showerhead was located. To his relief, the man remained oblivious; far too invested in his song to notice. Only when the man reached a particularly high note, mouth open in a wide O, did he finally see Centaurus pounce.

“HURP!” A quick groan was all the man was able to let out as Centaurus began crawling into his mouth. Limbs flailed as he fell to his knees, then back onto the ground as water sprayed all over his convulsing body. Centaurus slipped right in, slithered to the man’s brain, and sunk his fangs onto the fleshy organ.

So good! Centaurus thought as he drank in all of the various chemicals that ran through his new host’s brain. Dopamine, oxytocin, serotonin, and endorphins all combined to form an intoxicating cocktail that always cured the hunger that plagued Centaurus’ daily life. But, he also knew that this wasn’t enough. The hunger would return, as it always did. It was a disease that plagued his mind just beneath the surface. Even on this mission, the one that would determine the rest of his future, his hunger remained a priority. Would it remain like this for the rest of his life? Would the scars that came from those early years follow him until his eventual death?

Forget about it, Centaurus told himself. Focus on what’s right ahead. The future remains on the horizon, so treat it like that. After a second to calm his nerves, he shifted and concentrated on the host’s nervous system.

In just a few moments, Centaurus saw out of the man’s eyes. Sensations welcomed him into this respite, and he welcomed them greatly. The way his body shifted as he stood on those unsteady, inefficient legs, the water that gently struck his chest and torso, and the smell of fresh soap coming from himself, was almost as addicting as the chemicals themselves. “I’m not just living, I am alive,” were the words Centaurus thought to himself as he took over his first host, and they remained true ever since.

Going through a quick skim of his host’s memories, Centaurus managed to gain his bearings on his situation. He was inside Ken Ackerman, and his lover Daniel McCree was taken over just a few feet away. If Mizar was inside of Ken, then that left Centaurus with a simple solution. He turned off the shower and quickly dried himself as much as he could. Then, throwing the towel on the floor, he strut out of the bathroom, dick already half-hard.

“Hey, Dan, how about throwing a small little culture festival of our own before heading out?” Centaurus called out as he emerged onto their shared bedroom. “Shower got me feeling hot and frisky.” He grinned as Mizar snapped his head up before quickly looking away. Was the mere sight of a naked man enough to make him flush?

“Oh, uh, a-are you sure about that, um… Ken?” said Mizar, pointedly staring down at the carpet. Even though he tried hiding it, as if ashamed, the erection was obvious.

Chuckling, Centaurus approached him with open arms, strutting the whole time. “Come, now! No need to be embarrassed. We’re men, we’re in love, nothing wrong with that!” He laughed, chest full of boisterous joy as he wrapped an arm around Mizar’s borrowed shoulders.

“Ah! Ah, I guess that’s true, um… yes, it is! We’re… in love...” Mizar said that word as though it was taboo before nodding to himself. His eyes seemed to finally gain a glint of confidence, Centaurus nodded. “Right! Well, uh, you start, then.” Ah, there it went. Now all that remained of Mizar was a timid wariness.

Is he serious? How’d he expect to pass if he’s this bad with connecting with his host and hiding amongst the crowd? Centaurus thought before spinning Mizar around and dragging him towards the bed. “Well, if you insist,” he said, “I don’t mind being the lead this time. But don’t corpse out on me, then.” Each word and lingo was so fun to say with his tongue. If he had a bit more time to himself, then Centaurus was ready to say every word in whatever book these humans used.

Mizar lied down on the bed as Centaurus spread his legs. “U-Um, wow, this feels so…”

“In-ti-mate?” Centaurus supplied, enjoying each slick movement of his tongue as he enunciated the word. “It always is, babe. C’mon, you’re not acting like yourself.” He grinned as Mizar immediately froze; his eyes betraying the panic that was happening inside. “Ha! Just messing with ya, babe! Now c’mon, let’s get started,” said Centaurus as he took out a bottle of lube from the nightstand next to the bed. “Promise I’ll be gentle, and treat ya just right...”

Mizar had always been the timid type. Even during the early days of studying, Centaurus identified him as a meek and weak individual. However, all of his previous assumptions were taken for a spin when Mizar won several combat and maneuverability competitions. Though difficult to connect with his host on the mental and emotional side, physically, very few students—such as Zathina—could compete with Mizar. “It must be the hormones,” he admitted to Centaurus during a private conversation. “I get so caught up in all these physical sensations and the chemicals involved in them, that I just sorta lost it, ehehe. It’s kind of embarrassing, really.”

And that was where Centaurus’ plan for overcoming Mizar’s talent lied.

“Oooo-OH FUCK!” Mizar cried out as Centaurus swallowed up his entire shaft. “Oh god, Ken, you—oh my god!” he said, arching his back and clutching the sheets at the sensation.

Luckily for Centaurus, Ken was truly experienced in this fine art. Making his partners beg for release in a cloud of ecstasy was Ken’s specialty. And for now, it was also a part of Centaurus’ skillset. He ran his tongue up and down before happily swallowing up the entire cock. Although he almost choked a few times, he managed to work Mizar into his first, intense orgasm.

“WH-WHAT THE FUUUUUCK! S-Something’s coming ouuuuut! AAAHHHHH!” Mizar screamed, confusion mixed in with the pleasure as he shot his load down Centaurus’ throat. “Oh god, oh my god,” said Mizar in between pants. He sat up on the bed, skin glistening with sweat, and said, “Can we do more?” with complete desperation.

Exactly as planned, Centaurus thought. “C’mon, baby, spread your legs. I got just what you need.”

Mizar did as told, nodding as Centaurus prepared himself. “Ohhhh, yes!” he moaned as Centaurus began with a lubed-up finger, then two, and finally most of his hand. “God, if this is what it feels, why aren’t we doing—NN, AAAH—all the time!” Mizar slammed his head onto the pillow, tongue hanging out as he arched his back again.

“Relax, relax,” said Centaurus, “lemme show you the main course,” he said as he slammed his cock into Mizar’s awaiting hole. To say that Mizar went over the moon would be an understatement. Had Centaurus not known about Mizar’s weakness for these physical sensations, he would’ve thought his classmate was having a seizure. Still, the neighbors might hear. To quiet Mizar down, Centaurus dove in and kissed Mizar. Their tongues played as Centaurus pounded Mizar. “God, you’re tight.”

Mizar only responded by gyrating his hips with a lewd smile.

Even though this was all part of Centaurus’ plan, he reasoned that there was no need for him to not enjoy himself. And, maybe when this was all over, he could invite Mizar for more sex with these humans. A vacation would follow the exams, and perhaps…

Centaurus’ thoughts were cut off as he let out a particularly loud moan and began to pick up speed. Their little game continued until, finally, Centaurus said, “I’m gonna cum…!

“Shoot, shoot it all inside of me!” begged Mizar. “Make me feel all full and warm!”

“I’M, I’M CUMMING!”

After what seemed like an hour of fucking, the two finally lied on the bed exhausted, sweaty, and satisfied.

“C’mon, another go,” whined Mizar.

Almost, satisfied.

Centaurus groaned. “Babe, c’mon… I’m exhausted. Let’s just relax and head down to the festival.”

“But...”

“I said no,” Centaurus snapped. He narrowed his eyes as he saw Mizar about to get up from the bed. “And y’know how serious I take monogamy, Dan,” he said, tone taking on a deadly edge. Mizar froze, and didn’t say anything. “You’re not planning on finding some dumb himbo and make him fuck you silly, are you? We promised we were the only ones for each other, remember?” Centaurus wasn’t exactly sure if that was true, but knowing that Mizar didn’t have the best capacity to draw from his host’s memories, that didn’t matter. “If you cheat on me, it’s over. Got it?”

“Got it!” Mizar responded, his arm twitching for a salute that was a habit of the creature, not the host.

“Good,” Centaurus said sweetly. “Now come here. Let’s have a nice nap...”

Mizar agreed, with some reluctance on his part. Centaurus smiled as the two of them lied back down on the bed with very little noise in the air. Somehow, in that post-orgasm silence, Centaurus drifted back and forth from sleep as he purposefully snored. Only when he heard a few moans and then the scuttling of an insect-like creature did Centaurus finally relax. Mizar’s not gonna have a high grade if he goes around begging to be fucked in different bodies, so that’s one of his classmates taken care of.

Swinging his legs off the bed, Centaurus stood up and stretched. He flexed his body to its limits, moaning each time. “God, being in a body always feels so good. Always feel alive with ‘em.” He quickly got dressed and made his way out of the room. One opponent down, four more to go. With any luck, he won’t have to deal with the worst of them until he had the area mapped out.

“Are you not ashamed of yourself?” Centaurus froze as a chill went down his spine. Although the voice was unfamiliar to him, the inflection and sheer viciousness behind it were not.

Taking a deep breath to calm his racing heart, Centaurus turned around and grinned at the devil that insisted on haunting him. Her host was a petite woman, but one that perfectly radiated the fearsome, ferocious aura that Zathina embodied. Every step, flick of her wrist, and word all belonged to the heir of the most elite of their species. Her kind was something to revere, fear, and steer clear of. No use being dirt on the clear and golden paths. Even just looking at her in an unfamiliar body, Centaurus felt an urge to bow and beg for forgiveness, but he held his ground.

“Well well, if it isn’t the princess of our class, Zathina herself!” he said, somehow managing to keep his tone jovial as his eyes skimmed through the hall, searching for an escape route. “Tell me, to what do I owe—“

“Shut up,” said Zathina, and the hall grew silent. It was as if the world itself bowed to the authority she was born into. Though her expression remained deadpan, Centaurus could feel the sheer disgust in her eyes. What Zathina felt at that moment, he was certain it wasn’t anger. It was truly as though she was looking at a cockroach that dared to be in her in presence and insult her sight through its existence. That was how the elite would look at those born in the dirt. “I heard, and witnessed, what you did to Mizar.” She narrowed her eyes, and Centaurus briefly looked away.

How pathetic, he thought, ashamed of himself.

“Is this how you get your sick kicks, worm?” said Zathina.

“Centaurus. I insist you call me by my name.”

“Your name is ‘worm’ as far as I’m concerned,” Zathina said and Centaurus remained silent. There was no room for debate with her. “Now then,” continued Zathina, “what do you have to say for yourself regarding your… unsavory tactics?”

Despite his fear, Centaurus still said, “It’s none of your business, is what I’d say.”

“Typical response,” said Zathina, rolling her eyes. As she ran her fingers down her new hair. Was she…? Before Centaurus could mull over it some more, Zathina spoke again. “It’s almost expected at this point. You’re becoming as boring as you are insufferable. But, I suppose you’re right. It is none of my business.”

“Then why—“

“Because it will be,” Zathina cut in, each of her words punctuated by an assertive step towards Centaurus. Instinctively, he backed away, nearly losing his footing at the tail end of his retreat. Just as he was about to regain his balance, Zathina shoved him with a lone flick of her wrist. With barely any effort on her end, Centaurus was down on the ground. Before he could even attempt to stand up, Zathina pressed her foot against his neck.

“No need for that,” said Zathina in a soft, gentle voice. “In fact, no need for any of your words, either. I don’t want to hear a single one of them.” As she spoke, she placed some of her weight onto her foot, and Centaurus gagged as oxygen became scarce. Zathina’s expression remained unchanging. “Now, worm, I hope my warning will remain with you for the rest of your life: Get in my way, and I will make you will suffer. This is my first and final warning. Blink once for ‘I understand,’ and struggle to die. Three, two...”

Centaurus blinked.

Zathina smiled. “I’m glad you understood,” she said as she slowly raised her leg. Centaurus took deep, labored breaths as he welcomed the rush of oxygen. He coughed and choked until Zathina brought her heel down onto his stomach.

“Hrrk! Hrrr…” Centaurus kept his mouth shut, only defiantly glaring at Zathina as she blinked in surprised.

“You didn’t scream. Impressive,” she said before stepping away from him. “You always seem to impress me in the most unexpected of ways, worm. Well, let’s make this the last time we see each other today. For your sake.”

“You...”

Zathina stomped on the floor, and Centaurus flinched. “Good. It seems I’ve trained you well,” she said, smirking with pure satisfaction. “Well, so long.” With a small and curt wave, Zathina walked away. Not even once did she turn back to see if Centaurus stood up and chased after her or not. To her, there was most likely no need.

“F-Fuck you,” Centaurus muttered, quiet enough that she wouldn’t hear. Zathina, as long as I live, I won’t let you win. I swear it.

Blood is Thicker than Water 2

After taking over the older man’s body, the alien found himself leaning back on his chair and enjoying just the simple pleasures of the possession. “Harold, Harry for short,” he said to himself, chuckling. “Ahhh, sorry son, but this body is just too nice to pass up on. Maybe when you’ll older you can be a nice husk for me to use and abuse.”

His son simply looked straight ahead, completely emotionless. After several days of just being a host for the alien now known as “Harold,” his mind was having a hard time awakening. A few hours later, and he’ll be back to normal, though confused on why his ass felt so stretched out. However, for the time being, he was in a state of “until further instruction.” While at first, the possessed Harold had planned to use his son for a test drive of his new assets, he reconsidered.

Perhaps the son or the experience of transferring hosts had altered something in the chemicals of the alien's brain, but he suddenly found himself searching for a partner far richer, similar to Harold himself. Eager to work, Harold searched through his host’s contact list and memory banks to find not just a suitable Saturday night encounter, but also an alternative host to take over once he was bored with Harold.

He had no purpose in life, so he decided to indulge in the pleasures of the flesh. One man from Harold’s workplace stood out in particular: Peter Koche. A serious man that, on occasion, would steal glances at Harold when he believed no one saw. Unfortunately for him, Harold did notice, and now the slime creature inside of him would take the opportunity that the normal Harold would be disgusted by.

With one hand in his underwear and absentmindedly playing with his impressive new package, Harold sent Peter an email asking for a moment of his time to go out and get some drinks. Surprisingly, Peter responded soon afterward with a polite acceptance. “Yes!” Harold cried out, commanding his yet-to-be-awake son to high-five him.

Later that night, after a few rounds of drinking and playful flirting, Harold found himself in Peter’s apartment.

“It’s a decent place,” said Peter, walking around the place with his hands in his slacks’ pockets, fidgeting with the fabric. “Little lonely, though. Such a big apartment for a guy like me.” He avoided Harold’s as he spoke. Was the tint of red that colored his cheeks from the drinks or something else?

Harold simply smiled. “Y’know I have a son,” he said as he took a seat on the sofa. He gestured for Peter to do the same.

Obliging his guest’s request, Peter took a seat on the end of the couch. as far from Harold as he could be. “I know,” he said, trying to save face. “I was just saying! No need to jump to assumptions like that. Or are you looking to piss me off?”

Harold shook his head. “Looks like you’re doing well enough at that on your own.” He laughed at Peter’s sheepish huff. “We’re adults, Peter. Friends, even. If you want to tell me something, just be straight with me.” Never dropping the smile, Harold leaned in. He caressed Peter from his chest down to his stomach.

“Or, you’d rather be something else?” he whispered into Peter’s ear.

“Ha-Harold! I...”

“Yes…?”

“I never expected you to be so forward...” Peter said, his hot breath causing excited goosebumps to trail down Harold’s arms. “A-Are you sure about this? What about Casey, your son?”

“Oh don’t worry about Casey,” said Harold as he reached forward to undo the first of Peter’s buttons. “He’ll understand. I’ll make sure of it.” He licked his lips as he saw the trail from Peter’s chest down to his stomach. “Found a treasure chest,” he said, twerking Peter’s nipple with his fingers. “All to myself, too.” With those words and a sensual moan from Peter, Harold threw himself for a sweet loving.

-----------

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, OHHH!” Peter cried out as he came. The warm sensation of his own semen splattered all over his stomach only made him harder.

“A-Almost, almost—NGH! I’m cumming…!” Harold grunted. Peter moaned as he felt a torrent of cum flood his insides. He felt warm and full, like he just had a wonderful snacc. Before he could say anything, Harold let out a loud moan and collapsed on top of him, pinning Peter to the ground. “Ha-Harold—WOAH!” Peter cringed as he felt something warm surge into his body. “Harold, Harold—lemme go, aaahhh!”

He writhed on the couch, cock rubbing against Harold’s stomach as another creature invaded his body.

Not too long afterward, Peter was looking at himself in the mirror with a completely different demeanor. “Not bad,” said Peter, flexing. “Body feels adequate, and it’s nicely aged and taken care of, too. He’ll be a good host and plaything when I’m feeling bored.” He glanced back at Harold, who still sat on the couch, eyes completely blank. “Let’s have some fun, human.”

Hey fellas, quick update

I got an internship for the summer and I’m also job hunting, so that’s been eating up a lot of my time lately! Eagerly pushing forward with my career in punishing and creative writing. The end goal is a novel, so that’ll always be my priority.

However, I’m still enjoying writing stories like this, and hoping to get another story up by Sunday. I hope you look forward to it!

FEStival Fiasco

Prologue

Jonathan Matthews snapped a quick picture in his bathroom figure, making sure to inspect every last inch of himself. Even after all his years in his rather sedimentary lifestyle as an office worker for an insurance company, he managed to remain rather toned and fit for his age. However, the one thing time took away from him was his curly and unruly hair. Gone were the days of him just splashing water on it and letting it style itself.

“Maybe baldness is in this year,” Jon muttered to himself as he ran a few fingers across his plain dome. With the Culture Fest coming up the following morning, he wanted to look his best for the cute college girls and their mothers that would stop by the stalls and attractions. “This is your year, Jon,” he said, punctuating each word with a poke at his reflection. “No lonely Saturday night for this strapping bachelor!”

Jon was so focused on this bold and bald speech that he failed to notice the insect-like creature hanging on the ceiling just above him. Only when the creature made its move did Jon become aware of his fate. Before he could even let out a scream, the creature dropped on his face and immediately crawled towards Jon’s wide-open mouth. “MMF! MMMM!” All Jon could do was let out muffled cries as the creature suddenly filled his mouth and then sliding down his throat.

Jon fell on his back, his body convulsing as he felt a foreign invader make its way through his body and into his head. He arched his back, letting out a long and agonized moan, before falling flat on the ground, eyes closed. After a spasm or two, Jon finally opened his eyes, glancing around the room as if to take in all the sights. Slowly, he got back on his feet but nearly lost his balance a few times. It was as if he was learning—or relearning—how to walk on only two legs.

Clearing his throat, Jon said, “Okay, class. I hope that demonstration was good enough for a warm-up.” At his words, half a dozen other creatures, looking to be of the same species but smaller and of different coloration, crawled out of cover and blind spots throughout the bathroom. Some even crawled on his body, as if to appreciate Jon’s body now under the control of another being.

“Hehe, you younglings feel nice in a body such as this,” the creature inside of Jon said with a small, vain flex. It took the creature a few moments before snapping back to attention. “N-Never mind that! You all understand the rules, I hope? During this human festival, you will be tested in all the various traits that our societies’ greatest soldiers, Dreadfighters, must embody: stealth, infiltration, fearlessness, and versatility. And though you do not need to be the leader of the pack to pass your exam, the highest-scoring member of our class will earn an invitation to our Emperor’s coronation. This is your best way to earn our liege's graces and truly stand out as a potential soldier for our species. Are you ready?”

The class all chirped and clicked to show their understanding. “Well, get to it!” The creature barked. “The pipes, the windows, the various entrances that have been scouted out—use them all to their advantage. Go, cadets, and good luck. And, Zathina? I’m expecting great things from you.” Though there was no response, Jon’s body smirked as the star pupil was clear in the lead as the class set off.

However, one of the creatures was already scheming ways for his talents to shine. Get ready, Zathina, the being named Centaurus thought to himself. This is the day you’re dethroned.

And There Goes the Neighborhood

My neighbor moaned before begging, “P-Please, stop...” as I continued phasing through his back. As my limbs slotted into his own, I could feel the sensations he felt. Though he said he wanted me to stop, I could feel the stirring in his bright pink undies and the sheer eroticism that came from surrendering his body to me.

“C’mon, Mike, you’ve taunted me long enough. All those times collecting the paper with just yer bathrobe and nothing else,” I said, pushing the last of my arms and legs into his body. By now, he was certainly numb and completely at my mercy. He couldn’t even struggle or fight back. “Now I’m gonna get to use yer body all I want!”

“You’re insane!” shouted Mike, thrashing his head back and forth as his only form of fighting back against me. “Get outta me! Leave me alone. SOMEONE PLEASE—AAAHHH!” he screamed as I finally shoved my head into his. He fell to his knees, shaking and convulsing before falling onto the floor as his body surrendered control to me.

Once the convulsions finally subsided, I took a deep breath and slowly rose back to my feet. Taking a look at the clock on Mike’s wall, I grinned. “Only fifteen seconds this time,” I said, chuckling to myself as I rubbed my new, hairy pecs. “Getting better and better at this. Soon I’ll slip on in like butter.”

A knock at Mike’s door interrupted my thoughts. Not even bothering to put on any clothes, I wandered over and opened the door. Waiting for me was another neighborhood hunk, Jackson, saying, “Hey, Mike, you alright? Heard you from all the way from my place,” covered in sweat. Had he run all the way here to check on Mike?

Only after a few pants did Jackson finally noticing how half-naked and half-hard I was. Flushing, he uttered, “Uh, um...” until I finally cut in.

“Would you like to come in?”

“Oh! Uh, I dunno...”

He went to scratch the back of his head, but I quickly reached for his hand and gently pulled him in. “Let me explain what happened,” I said, only barely managing to suppress my grin. “Hell, if you want, I can even show you...”