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Hive Control Part 2 For FlimFlamFun5 By Draconicon

The next morning, the phone started ringing shortly after breakfast. Saul was still deep in the command to get breakfast ready, and the sound of the ring-rings didn't get through Jerome's head until it was almost ready to go to voicemail. The wolf had to leap for it when the neckhugger finally understood what the ringing phone meant, and so when he picked it up, he was panting.

"Ha...ha...hello?" Jerome said.

"You okay there? You have some, uh, company over during your vacation?"

It was the colonel. Arthur. He stiffened up, and just like that, the panting stopped. Apparently, the neckhuggers were able to do more than just control what he did. They could control how his body reacted to different stresses, even push some of the reactions that he had to physical exertion down.

That would have been a bit scary if he had any freedom to think about it.

"Hello, Arthur. No, no, nothing like that," he said, glancing out of the corner of his eye. Saul still hadn't stopped making breakfast, shirtless panther moving from one side of the stove to the other to avoid the grease splashes that were going on. "Just had to run from the shower. What's going on?"

"Just checking in. We said something about meeting up sometime soon."

"Yes...Yes, we did. Do you have a free moment sometime soon?"

"Lunch today?"

"I can do that. Your place or mine?"

"Let's do yours. You know it is out here. Classified to hell."

Jerome let out a laugh that probably sounded more genuine than it was. The neckhugger had him do it, reminding him that he needed to keep things casual and relaxed if they wanted to get what they needed out of the colonel. They needed a host in the higher echelons of the base, and if he didn't do something about that soon, the whole plan would need to be reconsidered.

"I'll see you around noon, then?"

"Make it around 1. That way I can make sure that I'm on time."

"You got it. I'll make something."

"Thanks. See you later."

The phone line went dead, and he went more drone-like as he hung it back on the receiver. The idea that he was going to implant a friend with a neckhugger was a great deal different than doing it to some random soldiers on the road. There was something a bit more reluctant there, but it was buried deep in the back of his mind, well beyond the ability to interfere with what the neckhuggers wanted.

Hive must survive. Hive must thrive.

He opened his mouth, a low, slow hiss coming from the back of his throat. Saul immediately stiffened at the stove, stepping away and backing up. He, on the other hand, just turned around, the wolf and panther facing back to back with one another.

Their neckhuggers extended their tails, intertwining themselves with each other and the information flow began. Jerome wasn't privy to the information being exchanged, but that was a constant. He never expected to know what they were saying anymore, just waited to be told what he needed to do.

After all, the backwash from the information transfer was always pleasant, and he closed his eyes to savor the feeling as the pleasurable sensations ran up and down his spine, touching and tickling every nerve with a dose of pleasure on the way up and down. His sweats bulged in the front as he felt the tingle setting in there, and he had to clench his jaws to keep from going limp and drooling like a happy dog might have done.

They stood there for some time, and as the tails kept rubbing and the parasites kept talking, he felt the pleasure growing. His dick started to throb in his pants, pushing forward enough to darken the sweat pants with pre-cum, and he could feel his balls churning from the tickling feelings that ran through his body. It was like all the pleasure of a round of sex pushed through his spine rather than being applied to his organs, like his nerves were just awash in pure pleasure.

It felt strange, but good. Rather addictive, too, and it was one of the big reasons why he was no longer fighting them. There was no reason to do it when it felt this good.

Finally, they pulled away, and the bursts of energy going up and down his spine faded. He felt a bit sad from that, but he understood. They had to get on with business.

Hive had his orders, and he would fulfill them. He had to make sure that there was a neckhugger ready for the colonel, and that meant that he needed more water. Jerome left the kitchen, heading to the bathroom, while Saul went back to prepping food.

They would need a meal when the jackal showed up, after all.

The morning passed so quickly, and by the time that the afternoon rolled around, Jerome could hardly believe that this was happening. He had a little rolled-up ball of a neckhugger in his hand, grown as quickly as the one on his neck could replicate, and he hoped that it was mature enough to do the job. From what he had gathered from his parasitic master, sometimes the small ones couldn't hold a sufficient grip on the host, and they would end up falling off rather than securing themselves.

It was going to have to be a risk that they took. They didn't have time to grow more, and they didn't want to have to push the appointment to a different day. It would look suspicious, and they didn't have time.

So, he held the balled-up neckhugger under his shirt, tucked into an inside pocket, and hoped.

The jackal arrived on a motorcycle, wearing his leather jacket and leather pants. Obviously off-duty, from the sight of it, but that didn't mean that he was no longer useful. It just meant that he'd be a little conspicuous on the way back, and the parasite would need to take care to make sure that it pulled in all the information on how to drive one of those.

Jerome was his normal self, as far as the jackal was concerned. He opened the door with a smile, waving his greetings. He did what he would always do, following the urges and directions of his masters.

Get him in the house, get him relaxed, get him infected. He will be a good host. He will make Hive better.

That was the plan, and he had no doubt that it would work. Hive was powerful. Hive was good. Hive always got what it wanted.

"Heh, you're looking wet. Showered up just for me, did you?" the jackal asked.

"There was an accident with one of my printers. Complete ink explosion," he lied, coming up with the best excuse that he could.

"Aw, you don't have to come up with a good excuse to bathe." The jackal slapped his shoulder. "I get enough of that from my men. Never showering unless it's an official order, I swear."

They were relaxed. That was good. It meant that there was no suspicion, no sudden worry that the jackal might have figured out what was going on. They had a chance to make this as full a takeover as possible.

Jerome kept his face as pleasant as possible as they made their way to the kitchen. Saul had already cleared out, heading to the back rooms of the house and entering a sort of sleep mode. It was something that the parasites could do to make sure that their hosts didn't make any trouble, as well as to ensure that they were good and rested for their next tasks. There would be no worries of the panther showing up and making a mess of things, or getting found by the officer.

As Arthur took his seat at the table, Jerome pulled out the package of chilled soup from the fridge. He carried it to the counter, and started pouring it into bowls.

"That's different. I thought you said you'd make something."

"I did, then I put it in the fridge. Most of us need to make stuff in advance and then eat the leftovers," he said.

"I guess. I'm used to the canteen."

"Well, not all of us can be used to the canteen."

Warm the soup, serve it, then apply the neckhugger. That's all you have to do. Just put it on his neck, and it will do the rest.

He put the bowl of soup in the microwave, hitting the button. Inside, he was nervous as could be about whether this would work, but the neckhugger kept him quiet and focused. There was no way that it would allow his normal nerves to get the better of him.

Arthur was chatting away, saying how good it was to see him again, how he hoped that this vacation would make things better for the wolf. It was all good things, supportive and kind, but he wasn't paying the attention that a friend would normally be paying. He was watching the clock, making sure that he didn't overspend his time at the microwave.

Just before it would have dinged, he pulled the soup bowl free, carrying it over to the table. He set it down by his friend, and excused himself to get a spoon.

As soon as the jackal leaned forward, though, the command to strike came.

Jerome didn't hesitate. As he was commanded, he shoved his hand forward, burying the jackal's face in the lukewarm soup. As the officer bubbled and burbled in it, he used his free hand to yank the back of the shirt down, exposing the neck more fully, and then finally grabbed the parasite out of his shirt.

"Haaaaaaaa..."

He hissed over it, exposing every fang that he had, and the neckhugger suddenly unfolded. It became more like the ray it was, suspended against his palm as he lifted it up and into place.

"Mmmph! Mmmmmph!"

Colonel Arthur Packard was squirming about, spilling soup everywhere, making the chair he was on rattle back and forth. He was desperately trying to get himself free of the situation, trying to fight back.

But it was too late.

SNIKT!

The spike of the neckhugger stabbed him right in the back of the neck, and the jackal suddenly spasmed, going stiff as a board. The parasite lifted from Jerome's palm, flopping down, wriggling into place over the back of the colonel's neck.

Jerome took a step back, the neckhugger on the back of his neck writhing about in excitement. The Hive was about to gain a new member, and -

Knees. Kneel.

The sudden command hit him like a truck, and he dropped down to his knees in front of the jackal's chair as he suddenly lunged back. His body spasmed again, his cock throbbing up in his pants, thrusting forward like it was about to blow.

Open. Suck.

There was more to it than just that. It was an image, a complicated series of them showing the possibility of the jackal going back to base with stained pants, how it would look if he was caught out, what sort of questions might be asked if he was going out to fraternize. It might blow his cover, make him into someone that wasn't trustworthy to look after the program.

The only way to handle it was to eat the evidence, so to speak.

He almost ripped the officer's pants off to get his cock out of them in time, the canine shaft throbbing up and out of a sheath with abandon. It was already dripping at the tip, but that would be excusable as long as the stains didn't spread any further than they already had. Jerome stared at that dick...then sucked it into his mouth.

The wolf had never sucked cock before. It was something that he didn't know if he would do again, if he was completely honest. The taste was salty and thick, and there was something about it that was not entirely pleasant at the same time. Maybe it was an acquired taste for those that enjoyed sucking on it and pleasuring other males that way, but it wasn't one that he cared to acquire.

At the same time, he sucked dedicatedly at the tip, pulling it over his tongue, letting the pre-cum strings splash against the roof of his mouth and the back of his throat. He bobbed his head forward, back, forward, back, sucking the thick shaft past his lips and towards his neck.

All the way.

There couldn't be any evidence, and the only way to be sure that there wasn't was to make the jackal cum right down his throat. Jerome leaned forward, letting the balls of the colonel rest against his chin -

Spurt. Spurt. Spurt.

The first few shots were not anything to write home about, but the feeling continued in a fourth, a fifth, a sixth shot down his neck. Even with the help of the neckhugger, he was barely keeping up with the cumshot pace, and he gagged every so often when one of the spurts hit him in the wrong spot on the back of his throat.

Nevertheless, he kept sucking, and the jackal kept moaning, his head leaning back as the parasite integrated with him.

Pull the pants down.

He did as he was told, dragging them down and out of the way, pushing them past the jackal's heels and over his shoes, putting them off to the side and out of the firing zone. There would be no water damage or other damage to them.

Finally, the orgasm seemed to have faded. Jerome was allowed to pull his head back, panting softly as he looked up at his old friend.

Colonel Arthur Packard leaned his head back up, rolling it around his shoulders as if he was waking up from a nap. He didn't look completely with it just yet, and the jackal slowly started reaching for the back of his neck.

Jerome stopped him, grabbing him by the wrist and shaking his head.

"They don't like being touched," he said.

"They?"

"They. Hive."

He slowly turned around, letting the jackal see the back of his neck. He felt the long, slender tail of the neckhugger lift off of his spine, running up against his shirt and moving about under it. There was no mistaking the fact that there was something there, something that most people would never see or experience...at least, until the infestation was complete.

"You are one of them?" the jackal asked.

"Yes. So are you."

"Them..."

"Hive."

The word was like magic, and the jackal's dick throbbed up again, knot swelling at the base as he groaned, thrusting his hips forward despite himself. Knowing better than to let the mess spread, Jerome opened his mouth, obediently letting that thick shaft slide past his lips once more.

He didn't like sucking cock, but he accepted the responsibility for what it was. It was the need of the lower members of Hive to take care of the upper ones, and to minimize their risks when it came to discovery. They needed this one, and that meant that Arthur got a few special privileges compared to what Jerome and Saul did.

A few more sucks, and the jackal was cumming again, spurting his load right down the wolf's throat. It was hot and thick, and the neckhugger on the back of the dog's neck gave him a few zaps of pleasure, just enough to make it clear that it appreciated his work for what he was doing.

He was a good drone. He did his work. He got his reward in the form of Hive's happiness.

Suck, suck, suck, bob, bob, bob. He rolled his head forward and back, helping the jackal to drain himself. The ooze of pre-cum was still strong, but not as frequent or non-stop as it had been at first. He tilted his head to the side, pulling back to the tip so that he could lash it with attention. His tongue flicked out along the side of the head, teasing it, before swiping more over the tapered tip.

That was enough to keep the jackal's attention, forcing him to moan and thrust forward again. Fuzzy balls rested on Jerome's chin, and he could feel them churning away, the chemicals and spikes of energy from the new neckhugger making the military man's body react in overtime, producing more than he needed, feeling better than he would normally.

It would calm down, eventually. It would be enough to break him, too.

A half hour later, Colonel Arthur Packard felt like he had been put through the wringer, both mentally and physically. The jackal sat with no pants on and a ripped shirt in the middle of the kitchen, his eyes half-blank and his mind under constant assault.

Not that there was any defense against the assault, now that he had been drained to this point. It had been pleasure upon pleasure, and now there was a sucking, draining feeling that came after. Not that he minded that, considering how his cock had been sucked better than a five dollar whore would have done on tour.

The jackal stared into space as his mind was filled and invaded by something so much more powerful than he was. He didn't know just what was happening to him, or why it was happening, but he knew that his memories were getting tapped, examined, even drained from him in some cases. He wanted to stop it, wanted to fight it, but was there any way of pushing back against something like this?

He doubted it.

So, he sat there, staring straight ahead at the stripping wolf in front of him. Jerome had always been a friend, but not this sort of friend. Not the sort that pulled out his dick and swallowed more loads than a person should be able to shoot in so short a time. Something...

He didn't understand. He wanted to know what Hive was, why that concept made him want to cum again. Why the feeling of being...in it...made him feel so good.

Hive is All.

The phrase came down his spine and then up into his skull, and he sat ramrod straight again. If he hadn't been blowing his load for the past twenty or thirty minutes, he would have cum again right then and there. As it was, his cock stood up as straight as he did, stiff and bouncing over the edge of the chair.

Ah...ah...

Arthur struggled to breathe evenly, and the thing on the back of his neck 'helped' him with that, forcing his heartrate down and making him breathe slower. It wasn't comfortable, considering how much his heart was trying to race, but it basically worked.

He slumped back into the chair, his cock continuing to bob up and down, his eyes unfocused as the memories were pulled from him.

Trying to speak only resulted in a few little gluks from his throat, sounds that started and were then shut down before they could become anything. His questions were fading, his loyalty rising.

Oath...took...

There was an oath that he had taken, but did it matter anymore? It felt...hard. Hard to think of anything, hard to put together any need or objective that didn't come from the thing on the back of his neck. It was strange, and kinda wrong, but at the same time, it was so much easier than it had been.

He was used to the hierarchy of the military, of the delays that came with the command structure. There were always orders that failed to come in on time, issues with what they needed to do that never got resolved without some additional snares. He had enough authority to make things happen, but not enough authority to actually work alone.

It was beyond frustrating, but if he were to be part of Hive -

There is no choice. There is only Hive.

Then he had his commanding officer right in his head. It would tell him what to do, how to do it, and there'd never be any doubt about what he needed to get done. He might be the one to decide how to do it from time to time, but the instantaneous command meant that he never had to worry about whether he was doing the wrong thing.

It was a gift for Arthur, and it made submitting to the thing on his neck that much easier, that much...better.

He leaned back a bit, shaking his head slowly as he felt some limited autonomy coming back to his body. He could lift his hand, and he did, holding it in front of him.

For a moment, he saw a gun in his hand, a memory of the past being pushed into his line of sight by the parasite before it faded again. He didn't know what that was meant to be, but he went with it, imagining what it would be for. Using a weapon for the sake of the Hive, he imagined, for all that it would do any good against the military as it stood.

Yet, even as he had that thought, the plan came through. The plan for the plane, and what would happen afterward.

The colonel stared straight ahead, his eyes widening slowly. Jerome nodded at him.

"You know."

"They planned for it? Already?"

"They are faster than we are."

"They're insane."

"They're right."

Right. Yes, they were. Hive was always right, and if they were wrong, it was only because they didn't know how to get to the right thing just yet. It was a lack of information or tools, not a lack of being right.

The jackal stood up slowly, pulling off the ripped white shirt that he had been wearing under his leathers. Jerome held out a spare, one that would be a bit tight, but it would fit him. Nobody would notice once he got the proper top for his uniform back on, anyway.

He pulled it over his chest, feeling the neckhugger squirm slightly as he dragged it up to the collar. It wasn't comfortable for his new master, but it was better than being seen. Far, far better than being seen.

Looking out the window, he guessed that he had been away from base for an hour or so. Not a lot of time to get back, but he was the commanding officer. Not many would question him, at least as long as he didn't get stupid about this.

He was about to leave, but the neckhugger stopped him. He was made to pull the back of his shirt down again, not much, but enough for the tail to come free. The answer as to why came when Jerome did the same, turning around and exposing the tail to him.

Arthur had his first mind-meld a moment later, and all the work that had kept him from messing his pants was nearly undone before he was able to pull his zipper back down. A shot of pre-cum, and then cum, hit the floor as he orgasmed from the potent feeling of being connected to another neckhugger.

The information came through, and he, unlike Jerome, was allowed to see it. The information about who in the base was infested. The information about who he could trust in the soldier corp. The ones that were covered, the ones that were willing to work with and for him. That was all passed along, giving him the chance to work with Hive to spread through the base.

They'd need time. They had enough to do something, at least. Not enough to catch the whole base, but enough to hold the majority of soldiers and scientists under their control. It would be enough.

It would have to be.

They disentangled, his panting coming to a stop as the neckhugger took full control again, nudging him to give a nod to his old friend as he pulled his shirt back up.

"I'll make sure to handle things on my end."

"Make sure you do. Hive demands."

"Hive will get."

"I'll see you later."

"A week. Then we'll have enough."

As the jackal left his house, he couldn't help but wonder if this was the right thing. They would have all the different soldiers and the commanding officer needed to get that missile-plane, but they needed more than that to ensure that the Hive would survive. They needed more hosts, more people, and there were other places besides the military base to get that.

He looked out his window again, gazing at the different houses down in the valley below him. There were hundreds of civilian possibilities out there, so many that there was no chance in hell that the government would blow them all up if the infestation was discovered. And it would give them more bodies to carry out the will of Hive.

It was a good argument, and he knew that his neckhugger was going to want to give it a try. It was going to be a bit awkward, of course, considering that there were few enough neckhuggers to go around.

How many were there, producing young? There were his, and Saul's, and Arthur's of course. There were the two hosts at the tunnel, as well as three or four hosts that were on the base. That meant that there was a minimum of seven of them, perhaps eight. They could double every day, so they could expand. Not much outside of the base, just yet, but they would catch up.

Saul finally woke up, joining him in the kitchen. The panther was still shirtless, but that was becoming increasingly normal for the pair of them.

"An idea has come to me," Jerome said.

"What kind of idea?"

"One to spread the Hive through the valley."

"Slow sort of thing..."

"Well, we can start small. Every city has its drug dealers, for example..."

"...I know a few here, yeah."

"Give it to the guy, then make sure that he knows that he is to put one on a customer every day. It'll spread."

"And outside of the gutter?"

"We go to a doctor. We put him under. That means one patient a day walks away with a neckhugger."

"...You have thought about this. You serve Hive well."

The wolf's cock jumped up at the praise, but he didn't touch it. It was part of the job, after all, figuring out how to serve Hive to the best of his ability. He needed to keep doing that, needed to keep thinking of better and better ways to spread the different parasites to the other parts of the world, to give as many different people connection to Hive as possible.

Hive was all.

Hive was all.

The wolf sat down at the table, shaking his head slowly. He was a good drone, but he was still thinking. He needed to only think about the sort of thing that Hive needed him to think about, not about the ramifications for their actions. Some bit of guilt still remained in the back of his head, thinking about what he had done to his friend, and he needed to forget that.

Hive will take.

The parasite said nothing more, and in that split second, the guilt in the back of his head disappeared. His eyes went wide as he felt...nothing. Not pleasure, no, but no guilt, either, as if the thing had been a task with no emotional attachment.

It was a good gift of Hive...or would have been if he remembered the reason for why it had been done. For now, he merely felt at peace.

Saul looked at him, slowly shaking his head.

"Should I head out and find a dealer now?"

"Do you have a new neckhugger?"

"I will in an hour."

"You do that, then. I'll start growing another."

It was the water, he was sure. It sped up the growth and budding of the species, giving them the nutrients and the safety to know that they could do what they needed to propagate. Having hosts around was one thing, but having the water that they needed to survive? That was another.

He got up, stripping down as he walked down to the bathroom. Saul had already grabbed his shoes, grabbing a shirt in the process of making his way to the front door. The panther would be busy, and he...

He would be busy with something else.

As the wolf filled the bathtub with cool water, the parasite on his neck started writhing again. It was eager, more than interested in getting itself nice and wet. They really seemed to like it, he'd found during the earlier part of the day. Maybe it was something left over from when they were a different sort of life. Maybe they had once -

You will not think. You will sit in the water and relax.

That was easy enough to do. The water wasn't as warm and steamy as he would have chosen when he was free, but it was comfortable enough on a warm day like this. He needed to relax, needed to give Hive what it wanted, and allow the parasite on the back of his neck to savor the water and moisture and get ready to bud again.

It wouldn't be long, now. It was already doing the wriggling, settling, and wriggling again that it had done before to set up the slime zone for its next copy. It would grow and spread and fall, and hopefully, it would be done in enough time for him to try again for tomorrow. The whole process would get faster and faster the more that he was allowed to think on it, and it would give them a better opportunity for spreading the parasites around.

After all, being able to infect two people a day was better than being able to infect one. It was a little more labor intensive, yes, but it meant that there was the chance of spreading much faster if they had to.

And they might just have to, if they wanted to make sure that Hive was well-enough established to hold off any resistance.

Don't think. Relax.

"Yes," Jerome muttered.

He leaned back in the water, letting the tail of the neckhugger dip into it while his head rested on the back of the porcelain container. He closed his eyes, put his ankles up on the far end, and just let himself drift.

As he did, he was pretty sure that he was allowed insight into different parts of the neckhugger's memories. Not much, just the stuff that this one carried rather than the overmind that formed when two tails touched, but it was enough. He could see what they were, what they wanted.

They wanted everything. And he was happy to help them get it.

The End