Chapter 2

She was there with him! How many of these slutty things were there? I wanted to warn Ted Miller, he'd been a good friend and wrote some awesome erotic stories; that's how I knew what type of gal he'd fantasize about. How to warn him? If I revealed the secret right then and there, he might be in danger. After what I'd seen, or thought I'd seen today, I had to believe that these women weren't human. Probably would have no compunctions against killing humans to protect the terrible secret of their seduction of mankind.

No, I won't try to warn my friends until I catch them alone. For now I'd just get in my car and go... go where? I'll just drive. Just drive to give myself time to sort this out and plan my next move. But I still had my own ten-inch dilemma to worry about. If possible, my penis seemed to only get larger, harder. It was difficult to concentrate on keeping my hands on the steering wheel as I drove aimlessly through the city. Alone in the car, I freed my rod from its painful confines.

It seemed irritated, engorged and almost angry-looking. I should pull over somewhere, tend to myself... maybe then I could think clearly. Nearby the Southern Parkway were a whole bunch of ritzy mansions, it seemed a good place to park for just a little while, probably not much crime in the area. Frankly, I was afraid to go home; one of the creatures, and perhaps all of them knew where I lived, and I didn't think I could resist them twice. As it was, I felt the need to hide every time I saw an attractive blond.

Speaking of needs; I gripped my own ram-rod cock and prepared to... no... no... what if this is step one? Why are these things so eager for sex? Women just don't work that way; a healthy human woman just can't be so attracted to random strangers, so these... she-creatures must be getting something from it.

Control.

Above me, there was another billboard openly displaying massive dildoes, butt-plugs and assorted sex-kink paraphernalia openly, publicly. A year ago, something like that would never have happened. As though the city had turned into Amsterdam overnight, yet it seemed as though I was the only one that noticed the changes, was I the only one unaffected by them? Why hadn't any women noticed and complained? It made no sense to me. But what if... what if sex is the weapon?

When one of them sucked my cock, she did something to it. If I had let her finish, if I had orgasmed and allowed this unnatural entity to consume my cum, the way one of them was consuming Ted's cum, what might have happened?

It almost made sense. Alien beings with some kind of mental voodoo infiltrate the Earth, they can control men through orgasms as long as there's no interference from condoms. Probably impeded the flow of the drugs they used. They appear as whatever a man most wants, and after you cum, you will do what they most want. Men will become the docile slaves of otherworldly she-demons that will dominate us... without anyone even noticing! I took my hand away from my still-erect cock, and wrestled with my beefy member until it was firmly secured deep in my pants. If only Susan could see me now, eh?

Susan... that reminded me of the flaw with my theory: Human women. Was there a male version of these beings to seduce real women? These days, only controlling men wouldn't guarantee you world domination, there had to be some plan for our own females as well. Unless they're all in on it. Could it be some sort of trans-planetary feminist conspiracy to turn the lusts of men against us?

"Wait... no, no, no... I'm going to far, my ideas are too extreme. I've got to take time out and listen to myself. What if this is just my imagination; what it really is just my problem. I am having these incredible nightmares, could there be something else wrong with me? Maybe that picture I took really was just some horrible glitch of the lighting. Well, Jace helped set me up with an appointment with a psychiatrist tomorrow. Maybe... YAWN maybe that would help... YAWN Couldn't hurt, I hope...

There should have been a second wave. Reports on the few remaining radio-stations assured the public that several governments were coordinating for a nuclear counter-strike against the Invaders. They said they had new tactics this time, they tried to bolster our flagging hopes.

But I was running through the empty streets, past the abandoned cars, struggling to escape the fate that had befallen so many others. There had been no second strike. No one was sure what happened. Washington hadn't been destroyed, that was clear. But somehow, all the politicians simply... gave up. Orders were given through secure channels for the military to stand down, and then they stopped giving orders altogether. There were reports of similar incidents in Beijing, Moscow, London, Tokyo, and a few other world powers. Orders for the army to just stand down, and disband. Was it fear? That must have been the answer. Maybe they were trying to preserve their lives and power for future resistance? No one knew for sure, only that the aliens were bringing in more ships every day.

These were new kinds of ships; smaller and faster than the ponderous floating fortresses that had paralyzed every major metropolitan area with their pink pleasure rays. They were like jet fighters, almost. Fast fliers with flat, glowing panels on the bottom. Two kinds, one ship with blue-glowing panels, and another class with a pink glow. The pink ones would sweep the crowd, and through some miracle of physics, fleeing human beings would be yanked upwards and magnetized to the bottoms of the ships. Only men. That was impossible. (Impossible in the way humans understand the cosmos.) Electromagnetism didn't have a sexual component. Yet for these aliens, it could. A mixed group of males and females would contain only females after the passage of a pink ship. Their men would be clinging helplessly to the underside, to be taken up into a pulsating opening in the floating fortress above. And the blue ships, they caught up only women and left behind the men. And the sexes were separated and conveyed into pulsating hangers on opposite ends of the mothership.

I didn't know what else to do but run... just run and keep on running. And I tried to, I tried until the fortress-ship began to shine brighter, and there was a hum in the air as the alien behemoth gathered up otherworldly energies for a deathblow to human civilization.

And when I saw the tower, that was the moment when all hope at last fled from me. An impossible structure dozens of times taller than the highest skyscraper... it was descending from the clouds, through some conveyance that defied human understanding of gravity. Amber and yellow and needle-like off in the distance. The extraterrestrial object slammed down, embedding itself in the earth as pink lights began to glow from within. They were setting up some kind of permanent base-camp. And it was probably like this all over the world. I knew at that moment that the human race had failed.

And the pulse hit. A white flash from the fortress-ship that swept over the entire city, and it struck me like a tsunami. I lay on the ground, spasming and writhing. The pleasure so extreme as to be frightening. It was like gorging on something far too sweet, the stimulation is overwhelming to your senses. I could only laugh and cry all at once, as my hips thrashed with spontaneous orgasms wasted inside my blue jeans. I couldn't say how long it lasted; the Bliss wave eliminated all sense of time. It was such an impossibly joyous experience that I seemed to lose all awareness of my own body — the pleasure was all. My last coherent thought was an understanding of humanity's downfall: These aliens did not fight with guns and bombs and pain and death. They conquered through pleasure. There was no will to resist them.

"Don't be blond don't be blond don't be blond..." I chanted to myself as I took the elevator alone to the office of Dr. Lucinda Cox, licensed psychiatrist and psychotherapist. What if the aliens had infiltrated academia as well? "Don'tbeblonddon'tbeblonddon'tbeblond..." If she were another gorgeous nordic that matched my deepest sexual fantasies, I would just run. If not, then perhaps I did need help. I'd slept in my car that night, not intentionally, I'd just nodded off after convincing myself not to masturbate. And the dreams had come again, so intensely vivid that I had awakened that morning in a cold sweat. What did it all mean? Was it prophetic? I needed help, and I needed answers. As long as she wasn't blond.

But I probably looked like a mess, the situation in my pants was becoming unbearable. I'd probably need to go to the emergency room, to see if human medicine had a cure for a 24-hour alien-induced erection. No... no... don't think about aliens, Cecil. Got to stay rational. The therapist can help. I hope.

I was surprised at how little paperwork there was. The secretary had her back to me as I signed in and was ushered in. The office was deep mahogany wood panels and a red, lavishly carpeted floor. The far wall had cheery, soothing painting of wilderness scenes and flowing rivers, with the requisite psychotherapist's couch raised near the head. And Dr. Cox herself...

... Was a redhead! I audibly sighed with relief as I let myself relax. Beneath her primly buttoned business dress she was spectacularly gorgeous, however. Almost too gorgeous. I wasn't sure, but from the way her chest bulged outwards, it seemed as though she had to be at least an F-cup; either that or she was smuggling some bowling balls in her bra, perhaps -

"I'm up here, Mr. Damion. " Came an indignant voice that at last, was not velvety, yet still feminine.

"Y-yes of course, I apologize." I slid onto the couch with relief. I was even happier now; that was a very human reaction and I was ready to give Dr. Cox my complete trust.

"May I call you Cecil?"

"Sure."

And so I explained about the dreams, terrible dreams of the alien invasion of Earth, where the population was subdued by weapons of pure pleasure, where the armies and governments had rolled over and given up their power. Dr. Cox wrote copiously into her little notebook, red hair all bound and bunned, with librarian glasses that created an image that soothed me with her apparent professionalism. Except for her legs. They were sleek, perfect, and belonged on a panty-hose commercial, and yet she wasn't wearing any. But what I noticed was the way she would constantly cross and uncross her legs; was she trying to get me to look up her skirt? No... no... I've got to stop thinking that way. Of course not.

"Do you have an erection, Cecil?" came the unexpected question.

"I... I... I'm sorry, what was that?"

"I asked you if your penis was erect?" she said with perfect seriousness, raising her eyes to stare at me the way one might study a bug in a jar.

"I... uhm... I'm not sure that this is... uh... relevant to..."

"Do you see those certificates on the wall behind me, Cecil? The one on the far left says that I'm also certified as a sex therapist. I know what I'm talking about and have good cause to ask." Alright. I'm trusting Dr. Cox.

"Y-yes... since... for almost an entire day now." I gulped. She nodded, jotted something in her little notebook.

"And are you sexually attracted to me, Cecil?" My eyes widened.

"That isn't... I mean, I didn't come here expecting anything like that... I'm n-no... no..." I stammered. She nodded.

"I'm a big girl, Cecil. I can handle the truth. My breasts excite you; you're wondering if they really are as large as they seem. Also, you've been trying to look up my skirt." She noted, her cool expression never changing.

"Now, just wait a minute!" I shook my head vigorously. " I never tried... that's not at all what I'm trying to do, I came here for professional help! That's all!"

"You can lie in public Cecil, for the sake of decorum, but for your mental health, it is advisable that you not lie to yourself. " She uncrossed her svelte legs again. "It is a known fact that the part of a man that grows the most during sexual arousal is...

"... the pupils." That's a surprise. "So believe me when I tell you that you cannot conceal your desires from me, Cecil.

"I don't understand what you're trying to do..." Or did I? "If you can read me so well, why even ask?"

"Because you need to admit your true feelings to yourself in order to overcome anxiety. I'm pushing you to do just that." She glanced at a file on her desk, nodding.

"You've been experiencing sexual dysfunctions for some time now, with prior girlfriends." She knew about Susan? That hardly seemed likely! Did the whole world know he had a problem getting it up that one time? "And from listening to you; I am convinced that your suppressed libido is producing side-manifestions which cause your other symptoms. Do you want to be cured, Cecil?"

"Yes." Why else was I here?

"Then you must trust me." Her hands reached up towards the white blouse she wore beneath her business dress and began deftly undoing buttons.

"You... you're not doing what I think you're doing."

"You have too much pent up lust and sexual anxiety. Your only hope is for release of the tension. It's the only way to get your subconscious to stop punishing your waking mind." And with that, her proper business attire was cast aside. With no bra.

"Let go of your anxiety, and embrace your instincts." My face couldn't have been any redder had I dunked it in Kool-aid. Her glorious F-cups leapt out at me. Her aureoles were wide and dark with nipples like erasers.

"Ihhhhhhhhuuuuuuhh..."

"This is what I'm talking about; even when presented with the naked body of a woman you find intensely desirable you experience considerable doubt." Dressed only in her glasses, and high heel shoes, Dr. Cox joined me on the couch.

"B-but - professional... organizations... ethical... guidelines... laws for p-proper conduct between... therapists... patients..."

"You can't live your life by committee vote, Cecil. And those professional organizations don't know everything. Release, Relax, Trust." My pants seemed somehow to undo themselves, and my cock leapt as if for joy. "There are instincts that all males possess; which society encourages you to deny. My naked body will bring your natural, male urges to prominence, and your rational mind will be subsumed by your resurgent libido." She took my wrists and brought my left hand to her chest, as my fingers were treated to a tactile tour of buoyant breastflesh with a bubble-like roundness, down towards the toned tautness of her firm abdomen, down to her venus mound and finally a bush that was moistening with pungent, female juices.

"Release your tensions, Cecil. Your male instincts tell you what to do. Follow them, obey your urges and you will be free of anxiety."

My cock was to blame. Two days ago, I would have been intensely suspicious. But since that partial blow-job in the shower; the fire in my groin had only increased. It wasn't just my non-stop erection, the sexual craving to go with it continued to grow larger. It was more growl than yell as I grasped the creamy-soft flesh of the hands-on psychiatrist and pressed her to the couch. So slick... so wet... so female... It almost caught me off guard how easy it was to penetrate; my rock-hard ten-inches of angry manmeat slid perfectly, cleanly with one good thrust, so wet was the womanhood beneath me. I gurgled with the promise of the release to come.

At this point, more than anything else, it wasn't so much that I desired sex, It was more the escape from the furious tension that burned in my groin. Release... Release... sweet release of a woman's body. Inside a woman's body. That was far more important than merely having fun. And she was right; my rational mind was a voice in the wilderness shouting against the hurricane as I thrust over and over into the yielding paradise of soft sexuality that growled beneath me. Her legs encircled my pelvis as I buried myself to the hilt inside the hot wetness.