The thing was inside of her head.

And around her legs.

It never spoke. The physic commands were nothing like the movies, where an ominous voice whispers suggestively in the back of her head. Images and ideas came through the alien-like unsummoned, unwanted thoughts. It came from the same source as the sudden urge to throw yourself into traffic or onto your best friend’s husband.

But it wasn’t her 

Renee simply referred to it as ID.

ID knew things that she could not. The creature had slowly transformed the basement of the Denver Public Library into its own lair, deceptively cluttered with the different decorations and program materials needed for each initiative. But underneath the discounted books and festive trimmings, festered the spider-like ID. 

Sending its webs out to control the city.

It had been subtle at first, taking her and the other female managers. Renee never said anything as she watched her boss fidget in her power suit, never able to get comfortable. They knew better than to acknowledge or ignore ID, coming whenever it called, obeying its every command. 

Because around their genitals tightened the white, sticky web of its cum, hiding underneath every inch of their clothes to keep each woman chaste without the creature. It did not force them, telepathy or mind control was not ID’s way. It controlled the semen, almost like it bred itself inside of the girl, keeping her pussy controlled for weeks with ease. 

She hadn’t climaxed since it had taken her a week ago.

ID flashed images, warnings of what it had done to other women who resisted. It turned the semen solid, allowing the cum to vibrate inside of her, the equivalent of a vibrating egg. But it had so many ways to keep her balanced on the knife’s edge, right on the precipice of pleasure, where she would be more compliant. 

Renee had tried everything, her vibrator, a dildo, even rubbing her fingers against her vagina when the web spread for her urine, the pee spraying all over her hand and thigh. Nothing worked to make her cum, and the creature kept at her, contorting its fluid to bring about new sensations, keeping her close until she wept and begged.

Willing to do anything…

Renee had been like this when she had given the young purple-hair lesbian to her fate. As she gave out the instruction to the basement, ID had been working its warm cum inside of her, touching and tickling up her clit as it had been doing for days, making her fidget with discomfort as she spoke. More than anything, she wanted to strip over her clothes and grind her pussy against the first thing she thought of. It didn’t help, but it had been happening more and more frequently.

Maybe the corner of the desk... 

It had tormented her, tap-dancing on her clit through the night, forcing her legs to open and close involuntarily as it kept her right on the edge. She had been sleep-deprived to the point of almost being unthinking, brainwashed by these repeated images.

These were the worst...

It had shown her other women, each just as resistant, in a thousand other occupations throughout the city. Like her, the webbing covered their pussy, preventing any attempt at masturbation or sex. She had seen these other beautiful women, resistant to the creature’s orders, forced to climax at the most inopportune times, stripped of every ounce of dignity. 

There had been one woman, a blonde barely more than a teenager, cumming so intensely that she released her bladder at the time, wetting her pants in the middle of a busy restaurant. Another where a comely professor had climaxed in the middle of the lecture, vibrating on the floor in the fetal position as her class crowded around, at first concerned she was having a seizure. 

Until ID continued the performance, the woman unable to hold in her erotic moans.

Others were tormented through perpetual teasing until the woman obediently submitted to whatever ID demanded, desperate for release. Constantly on the edge, more and more broke, bombarded with instances of others doing the same, unable to stop themselves from succumbing. 

Then they were rewarded. 

Climaxes again like the first time they were claimed, like what the purple-haired pixie would soon experience as she walked out of the room, heading towards the basement with a list she would never complete...

Renee wished she wanted to cry for Nicole. But that had been a week ago when the creature first conjured the idea. She’d known it was over for days, going through the pretense of fighting, ID patiently waiting as more of its prospects were given to its true, eight-tentacled form. It would fuck Nicole, using each tentacle as a cock or combining all of them into a fist, driving into her orgasm after orgasm until her body was completely full of its cum.

And completely under its control. 

ID flashed another image, showing her at once the thousands of women it controlled, how they collaborated together to bring more into its flock. ID used its seed to touch them, constantly keeping them aroused until their will broke voluntarily, their service all the more valuable with their minds still functional. 

So many had shaken off their reluctant sentiments, glad to be paired with partners devoted to the same task. They were seizing powers and people all around them, slowly snowballing their collective with each added member, sharing and aiding in each other’s endeavors, grateful for the aliens who brought peace and love, a  lifetime freed from want and need.

But Renee still resisted...

Her hair had fallen out of her bun, her glasses hanging crookedly from her face. It was not the stereotypical transformation of the bookish to beautiful, but her last ability to present even a pretense of control, disappearing into sweaty, disheveled lust the second Nicole shut the door. 

She was stripping off her clothes, rubbing her clit against the corner of the desk, needing the rough edge against her to feel anything with the warm semen web covering her from her bustline down. Renee gripped the sides, slamming into the corner so that the desk rattled, nearly knocking the computer from its station. 

The cum, always warm and wet, tightened around her, stretching up above her clavicle and continuing to climb. It clasped around her large breasts, pressing them to her chest, then formed around her throat, lightly choking her. 

The web covered her body completely, attaching to the ceiling and suspending Nicole onto the tips of her toes, making her dance for footing as it started to squeeze with a million little fibers of connected cum. Every inch of her, thighs, tits, butt, and breast, burned with red marks as the ropes rubbed against her skin. She swayed, powerless as the segments closed around her neck, leaving her sputtering for breath. 

The threads teased against her clit, leaving her hanging almost as though enmeshed in the alien’s cocoon. Nicole shook and writhed, trying to move to get just the little bit more she needed for an orgasm. She was so close, brought and kept there by the creature, needing it so badly…

While she swung, struggling for breath, her toes occasionally bouncing back off the carpet, she saw so many scenes like hers. So many gorgeous women, their hips quaking, their voices begging and pleading to cum. Promises to do anything, to turn over anyone, so long as ID would stop denying them their own satisfaction. 

And with it came the knowledge that she too would swear to serve this insidious alien invader, trading everything for her own orgasm. 

She did not have to say it. ID showed her all of these final submissions, women with her proud temperament who could not bring themselves to speak, but who knew the cost of this and every other orgasm she would receive from now until the end. 

Renee would be changed, a creative completely given into the whims of the ID, sacrificing everything to sex. 

Renee did not have to speak.

But swinging by its seed, her pussy aching for release, she accepted the exchange with a long exhale. The taut ropes loosen just a little, moving up against her clit with a tender touch…

And Renee cried out softly, muting her owning ecstasy with remorse as the climax spread violently throughout her dangling limbs. She lost herself, unable to think until it was over, weeping at what she did to poor Nicole.

ID flashed again in her mind, showing her the others, letting her watch each time become easier...