EXTRACT FOR
Host
(Kelly Addams)

Maybe this is a virus she mused as she slung the back pack over one shoulder and struck out toward the cottage completely naked and not feeling even a hint of embarrassment or shame.

"I'm not a virus." her mind suddenly spoke, if spoke was the accurate word. It was more a case that her mind overrode what she was thinking and forced new thoughts to the front.

Michela stopped dead, then felt her legs stolen from her will as she began to walk again. Like a puppet on a string she strode back toward the cottage even though her mind fought to stop the march, all that she wanted to do was sit down and try to make some logical sense of the most bizarre of situations.

"You cannot fight me." Her mind spoke again, and Michela clamped her hands to her temples and howled.

"Gas in the cave!" she insisted, "Mind bending fungus, or hallucinogenics."

She knew about the 1970's and LSD, she knew that the drug induced trips back then that had inspired some of the weirdest music and thinking. And I'm stuck in the middle of a 70's psychedelic, multi-coloured, drug induced, fantasy.

"On the contrary," her mind told her, an event so frightening that urine trickled down the inside of her thighs. "This is real, very, very real. You have not been drugged, you are completely sober... but I'm afraid to say my dear Michela that while I'm inside you... It is I that is in control. So why don't you stop fighting my will, and rush back to your cottage... because I'm sure we are both going to enjoy what I have planned for tonight."

***

With eyes wide open Michela stared in disbelief as she prepared for a night out on the town, already she had trashed one of her favourite skirts, attacking it with kitchen scissors and reducing it almost to the width of a belt. Next she had selected a bustierre, an item of lingerie that was supposed to stay hidden while it lifted her tits and attempted to shape her stomach. Now it was the focal point of her outfit, her tits squeezed and bulging, half of each areola showing like a dark brown rising sun above each straining cup.

"Fuck, I look like a complete slut." she gasped, then felt a squirming deep inside her pussy as the Myriapod turned and increased its hold on her mind.

"Now we can't have you saying things like that later, and spoiling our fun." her mind chuckled and Michela felt even more violated, "So I'm afraid I shall have to vet what you are planning to say, I'm sure you understand my concerns."

And instantly rendered mute, Michela watched herself apply make-up that would shame even the cheapest hooker, then walk out to her car, slide her key into the ignition, and hitch up her short skirt to reveal her naked snatch, then turn onto the narrow road heading for the distant town.