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Hive Control Part 1 For FlimFlamFun5 By Draconicon

It felt strange to sit at the breakfast table with a guest and not be talking. Jerome knew that there was a reason for it, but the more he tried to think about it, the more that it felt pointless to make the attempt.

There was no need to think when one was part of the Hive. One merely did what the Hive told them to do.

The wolf still felt the urge to reach to the back of his neck, to touch the creature that had taken up residence there and in his head. It was...strange, to put it mildly, and it didn't quite feel right to have it there. At the same time, it didn't feel wrong.

Things were complicated, too complicated for a person to sort through on their own. Even an intelligence analyst like himself had trouble pulling all the facts together. Mostly because all of this should have been impossible.

He was rambling, rabbiting in the back of his head, and he guessed that was because something had happened to his mind. It hadn't taken Jerome long to realize that he couldn't focus on the situation at hand in a way that would have resolved it, solved it the way that he once had. It took only a little more time after that to realize why.

Hive owns you.

Yes, Hive owned him. The wolf tapped his finger on the table, the only thing that he could really do to pass the time since he couldn't really talk to Saul.

The panther wasn't doing much better. His old 'friend' had been out of it since the implantation and the information sharing of the parasites on their necks, and he doubted that Saul would be talkative for a long time. The parasites seemed to be the only ones that needed to communicate now that they had hosts, and they were very capable of doing that without the pair of them spending any time chatting.

He wondered what they wanted. A part of him wanted to judge, to be a bit scared, to feel something about the fact that he had an alien attached to the back of his neck, but the most emotion that came up was a mild feeling of unease. Even that was conditional, it seemed, not quite strong enough to make him act, just enough to let him know that he needed to relax and submit to Hive just a bit further.

Jerome looked at the table. His hand moved from tapping the edge of the surface to the plate that was laid out on it. Mechanically, his fingers wrapped around a piece of toast, and it was brought to his mouth, his muzzle forced open by the parasite's control and the dry bread pushed over his tongue.

Host will eat, was the thought that followed, and Jerome would have shaken his head if he wasn't still held in place. The parasites seemed to know that they had to take care of their hosts, at least, which was something.

Suddenly, he blinked, an objective pushing into his brain from the base of his spine. It flickered into an image in his head, a picture of his computer and him seated at it.

The wolf stood up, walking away from the table. His legs moved automatically, controlled by the creature on his neck, but he didn't oppose it. He didn't even know what they wanted.

He went back to his office, sat down, and put his fingers on the keyboard. The wolf waited, and the parasite obliged.

Information. Flight base. Planes.

The words were crude, concepts more than actual conversation, but Jerome knew what the parasite wanted. Already, his fingers were obliging, dancing across the keyboard, giving Hive what it wanted, what it was asking for.

He brought up the databases of the Air Force, where the local bases were, what the current projects being overseen at those bases were. The neckhugger looked over them through his eyes, and then told him to keep searching, to keep going through one data log after another. It wanted something, but it lacked the words to tell him.

So, he kept looking. Patience was a key factor to being a host, he was finding out, but he had that. He had plenty of that.

The wolf kept typing and scrolling and reading for over an hour before the neckhugger tensed along the back of his spine. It wasn't enough to hurt, but it was enough to make him freeze, every nerve tightening as the neckhugger stopped him.

This. Up. This.

It lifted his hand through their control, tapping the screen. Jerome would have cocked his head to the side if it was allowed to him, but the motion was still restricted, given up to the parasite and to Hive to decide what he was allowed to do or not.

It was a file on a new space-plane, something that the Air Force would be able to use to cross the planet in less than an hour. It was still in the experimental stages, but they had reached the point where manned flights were safe enough to try. They were going to be launching it in a few weeks, maybe up to a month or two, the prototype with armed weapons to follow to see if it was a viable weapon for the government.

Hive understood the concept, standing him up from the desk and walking him back out of the room. Jerome didn't know what was happening, precisely, but he knew that it was going to advance the plans of Hive in one way or another.

Saul had already stood up when he reached the dining room, and the panther had turned around, exposing the back of his neck and the parasite there. The tail lifted up, questing for him.

Jerome turned around and offered his own in return, and they linked once more.

There was a sense of pleasure to it, though not as strong as it had been the first time that they had linked together. They pressed back to back, butt to butt, and he could feel the parasites talking.

This time, however, they were silent to him. He didn't know if the one on Saul's neck talked to him, but Jerome was a silent host, a drone that lacked in instructions and so did nothing. He stared straight ahead, the beginning of a bulge forming in his sweats as he waited for the next instruction.

There was a great deal of chatter between his parasite and the other, though, and by the time that they had made a decision, he was feeling right on the verge of orgasm. He didn't know how it worked, but there was something about the nerve connection, the raw energy firing between one neckhugger and another, that had a side effect of blasting pleasure right down his spine and into his crotch.

It was pleasant, though not something that he would want to do all the time. He feared that it would mess with him, screw with his ability to think.

Nevertheless, Hive had made a decision. They needed more hosts, and they needed ones that would get them into the Air Force base. Jerome knew that wasn't going to be easy, but Hive already had options.

Options that he imagined that the Air Force had never considered.

They left the house after sundown, driving out of town and over to the hidden base just on the other side of the hills. There was enough local geography to keep anyone from stumbling upon it by accident, and the fact that the planes that left the location were either VTOL-enabled or were part of a rocket project meant that there was no need for runways.

There were, however, needs for tunnels, and those tunnels were guarded by many soldiers. They weren't horribly conspicuous, but one could tell the difference between a military guard and a patrolman with ease if one had been in the intelligence community for long enough. Jerome had been in the community for more than long enough to know when they were in the right place.

The wolf and panther sat in their car around the bend, watching the soldiers through binoculars. It was hard to sit still when the neckhugger was grinding into the back of his neck, when it was doing something that made it feel bigger, thicker, heavier against his shoulders, but there was nothing he could do about that. All he could do was wait for directions.

Occasionally, they touched each other, the parasites sharing a communication or an idea, but he was not privy to their plans or conversation. All he got was a blast of pleasure through his back and down his spine, right into the crotch.

"This car stinks," Saul muttered.

"It's not my fault. And it's not all me," Jerome said.

"I know, but it still stinks."

"I didn't want to do this, you might have gathered."

"Do you want it now?"

"..."

"I thought so."

It was hard to say that he didn't want to serve Hive now. He wasn't even sure if he would be telling the truth if he did say it, now that he thought about it. It had become so integrated into his head and life that he was pretty sure that escape or defiance was no longer possible.

Even so, it felt strange to feel the creature on his neck sliding around. Unnatural. Whatever it had done to his head, he hadn't lost all his distaste for what had happened to him, just any ability to express it.

"What are we waiting for?"

"You think I know?"

"You're the one who found these things."

"Doesn't mean they talk to me," Saul muttered, shaking his head. "I'm along for the ride until they tell me what to do."

"Why?"

"...Because I have to."

"But do you want to?"

"..."

Looked like Saul was in the same sort of boat that he was. They weren't able to feel whether it was a good or a bad thing to follow the parasites' orders. All they could do was follow them and hope that it went for the best.

Suddenly, the sliding, grinding feeling on the back of his neck came to a stop, and he felt something...pop. Jerome blinked, his hand moving back of its own accord, and something wet and slippery landed on his palm.

Bringing his hand back in front of him, he looked down to see an exact copy of the creature that was on the back of his neck. It was flat, almost like a stingray in shape, but with a tail that shot straight down rather than all the way back. It was a spine like the one that was lodged in the base of his neck, something that would attach to a host and drain them of free will while giving them instructions.

Did it just...reproduce?

Hive is all.

That was all the information that the parasites seemed willing to give, and the slightly smaller one in his hand didn't even give that much. It just laid there, slowly curling into a ball for easier transport.

POP. Another one popped off the back of Saul's neck, and the pair of hosts looked at each other. Despite any initial misgivings, they both knew what they had to do...and surprisingly, neither one minded that much.

They left the car together, making their way to either side of the road, and then up the hill. In the dark and in the sand and shrubbery, they would be very hard to see. Particularly Saul, considering his black fur, but even Jerome was able to fit in with ease.

They made their way to the top of the low tunnel. It obviously wasn't meant for anyone to bring trucks through, considering how close to the ground the tunnel roof was. Probably just for low cars, or maybe the slope inside went down after you got past the entrance. He didn't know; that information hadn't been in the immediate database that he had access to.

What he did have access to were the guards. They were backed right up to the edge of the tunnel, wearing helmets to protect them from any rocks or sudden shots or thumps to the back of their head. However...

Jerome looked to his right. Saul had already climbed up to the top of the tunnel from the other side, and he held his rolled-up parasite in hand. They barely shared a look before they knew what they had to do.

The image was as clear as could be in their heads. Just reach down, let the neckhuggers unfold, and then allow them to stab into the necks of the guards. Hive would take it from there, and the way would be open.

Hive is all.

And for all that he had been reluctant to push his luck, to try something stupid and arguably evil as recruiting the guards as hosts, he found himself surprisingly guilt-free as he leaned over the edge.

The Hive wanted this, after all, and there was nothing wrong with what the Hive wanted...As far as he understood.

The guards - two Dobermans - were chatting at each other as the night dragged on, and neither Jerome or Saul were impatient enough to disrupt them. Instead, they waited, and waited, and waited some more, watching for a gap between their chatter to strike.

Finally, it came. The two dogs looked down, laughing at a centipede that was crossing the path. They took a step backwards, getting out of the way, and stepped right in range.

Jerome felt his mouth opening, a long hiss coming out of his throat that he'd never made before. He'd only heard it, heard it when Saul had pushed the neckhugger onto his back the first time. And now, he was making it.

It must have been some sort of activation signal or something, because the two neckhuggers they held suddenly jerked, unfolding and stabbing their little spike right into the necks of the Dobermans below them. The two soldiers stiffened, one little hip thrust happening before they were tense and still.

The wolf thought that the neckhugger would take a long time to settle in, but as soon as the first jab was done, the little creature wiggled forward, settling into place on the back of the dog's neck. Saul's little critter did the same, the parasites sliding down past the neckline of the soldiers' jackets and moving out of sight.

There were occasional twitches from the Dobermans, little efforts to exercise their own will on their bodies. Jerome didn't feel sympathy for them, nor did he feel entirely excited. He just felt a low-level feeling of success, as if he had done something right for an employer, or...or maybe for something a little more intimate.

At any rate, he was smiling as he hopped down from the ledge, walking back down the road. The soldiers stared at them, their eyes more than a little aware of how wrong it was for them to be there, but the neckhuggers, Hive, had already done their job. They were helpless to stop him and Saul, now, and they would be culprits in making sure that Hive's plans went over without a hitch.

By the time that they returned to the car, they were focused on their plan moving forward. Saul and Jerome looked at each other, shaking their heads. Both of them knew what they had to do, though what the other one was tasked with, neither was aware of. Hive had its plans, and they were but to follow.

They drove forward, and the soldiers parted to let them through. One of the Dobermans called into a walkie-talkie, sending a message further down the line. Jerome wondered just what was said.

#

At the end of the tunnel, they were temporarily stopped at a wire-mesh gate. The guards on the other side held them at gunpoint, at first, only lowering their weapons when the call came through from the other side to let them through. Saul drove the car around the guards, and onto the airbase.

It was a smaller sort of base than most, definitely not one that would be noticeable from the air immediately. It was contained in a bowl of sorts, the hills rising up around them, and the control towers were below the horizon. Not surprising, if you wanted to keep a place hidden. You didn't want to give away landmarks for others.

The ground was pitted with little dips and seams. Underground hangar bays, Jerome guessed, and he could feel the parasite on the back of his neck pulling that information away, storing it somewhere. The neckhugger would give that information to Hive later, and they'd use that to make a better plan with what they knew about the world.

They drove, drove, drove, crossing the base at the direction of the parasite on Saul's neck. Finally, they came to a stop in front of the center of the three hangar buildings on the far side of the base. Several soldiers watched them as Jerome stepped out of the car, but none of them seemed interested in stopping him.

Of course. Intelligence analyst, he thought, looking down at the badge on his chest. He still had that, and it gave him clearance to go around in weird places without having to say what he was doing. Saul, on the other hand...

Glancing back at the panther, he saw that the feline had already moved. Not in the driver's seat, but in one of the back seats, moving around and grabbing for something. He didn't know what. Maybe there were eggs back there, or worse.

Or better. It didn't matter. Saul had his part of Hive's plan, and he had his.

Jerome walked up to the door to the central hangar, his hand moving of its own accord to the cards that he kept in his wallet as well as the badge on his chest. He didn't know what he was here for, but Hive would make it clear.

A single slide of the card opened the door, and he stepped inside. The lights were already on. Probably they were always on, glowing over the creations that were kept out of the public eye.

Like this one.

The wolf leaned back, staring at the massive, missile-like craft that was stationed in the middle of the room. Cameras were spread all around it, aimed down from the ceiling and the walls, and he imagined that the security response if anyone went near the plane would be completely overwhelming.

He glanced around, feeling every bit of data getting pulled right out of his brain as he took it in. The neckhugger was swallowing it, pulling it back so that it could share it later, so plans could be made. It was...strange, almost like he was wearing a hard-drive on the back of his neck as much as he was wearing a controller.

"Jerome? What the fuck are you doing here?"

The wolf blinked, turning away from the plane. There were a group of scientists and reporters alike, probably all of them under gag orders about what they were seeing. The man at the head of it, though, was a jackal in an Air Force officer uniform, one that he recognized.

Colonel Arthur Packard. He remembered the initials of the commanding officer on base, and he kicked himself for not recognizing them earlier. It would be just his luck that there was someone on-base that could identify him.

The wolf smiled, prompted by the neckhugger, waving.

"Hey, Arthur."

"Colonel," the jackal said as he jogged over, waving the reporters off. "What are you doing here? I thought you were on sabbatical."

"I was. I mean, I am. I'm just a bit bored, you know?"

"Bored? So you come down to - how do you have clearance for this?"

"Promotion."

And that wasn't entirely wrong. He had been given a promotion before his forced 'vacation,' if only to make sure that he would be able to work from home before they were forced to take him off the job completely. It wasn't a lie, just...not commonly known. Nor the reason for it, for that matter.

Keep him busy, were the Hive orders, and he did just that.

"It looks like it's just about ready," he said, gesturing at the plane. "What's it going to do?"

"Besides the world-round trip, not much."

"Just a stunt show, then?"

"Basically," the colonel said, turning to look at it. "The public sees it as a way to make planes faster. Anyone who's smart and watching will see what it really is."

"And that is..."

"A reminder that we're still leagues ahead of anyone else in missile technology."

"I'm surprised it could be used as one. It looks too strong to actually explode properly when it hits something."

"That's why it'd have to be remote controlled. But it can also be used for troop transport, or other things like that. That's what's all the armor is for. Forced insertion, anywhere, anytime."

Forced insertion. There was something that was pleasing to that phrase from the neckhugger. Not enough to force an erection or to cause any sort of moan, but definitely something that made the parasite on the back of his neck very, very happy.

"And it's almost done?"

"I'd say that we'll be ready to launch in a couple of weeks, maybe a month."

A couple of weeks was not a lot of time, but Jerome already knew that Hive would be planning something. There was a tickling feeling at the base of his neck, right where the spike was lodged into his spine. Yes, there was something being considered now, information that would be passed on later.

The pair of them talked for a few more minutes, as long as Jerome could justify before he had to leave. They shook hands, promised to get in touch again, and then he left. The colonel had been none the wiser...he hoped.

He reached the car, noticing that Saul was panting softly. No signs of arousal, but he was certainly damp, a bit sweaty from doing something that required exertion. Jerome and the neckhugger he wore tilted slightly to the side, and behind the tinted glass, their parasites touched.

A blast of pleasure hit him again, the connection ecstatic, blissful as they were made to merge. Energy wound up and down his spine as the data was shared between them, and he was allowed to relax, to enjoy himself for a few seconds.

It was enough to leave him with an erection that was bobbing and throbbing in his sweatpants when the two neckhuggers pulled apart. He was allowed to see what had happened in his absence, what Saul had been doing.

Not eggs, but other, older neckhuggers in the back of the car. Not used at the tunnel so that they had as many mature neckhuggers for infiltration at the base as possible. Saul had left the car, been 'spoken to' by some of the soldiers, and had slapped the neckhuggers on as soon as they were in range.

The guards outside the base were affected, and so were some on the inside. Hive orders were to spread and lie low, to keep them from being noticed. They should double every day, budding and spreading the way they did, but only if they were quiet and subtle.

They disentangled their thoughts, the panther pulling the car around and turning them back toward the gate. Jerome shook his head.

"They want a lot."

"They do."

"What do you think they want at the end of the day? The...things."

"I don't have a fucking clue."

"Don't you wonder?"

"I'm not allowed."

"But what if -"

"Trust me. You don't want to think about it. They don't like when you think about it. It feels better when you just do what you're told."

The wolf looked down at his crotch. He couldn't deny the truth of that, not after they had made him feel that good. On the other hand...

Jerome stopped that thought before it could go anywhere. For the moment, he was doing alright. He was infested with a parasite that controlled his every move, that made him do what it wanted him to do, and it forced a strange sense of intimacy on him that he had never felt with another person before.

For all that, it made it very...good to go along with what it wanted. It kept him from feeling bad about what he was doing. Even though it didn't make sense, even though he didn't know what their end-game was, he knew...

He knew that it was good.

It wasn't even that he felt that it was good anymore, it was that he knew that it was good to follow their orders, to do what they said, to accomplish their goals. Right, good, and proper.

That was Hive. That was all.

They went through the tunnel and out through the other side, only pausing briefly to roll down their windows. The Dobermans walked up to the sides of their car, leaning down as if to talk to them and check ID, but all that happened was another exchange of information.

Everyone was off-balance as they pulled apart, the dogs having to lean against the car, boners in their slacks, while the passengers were just glad that they were sitting down. All of the hosts were tempted to go in again, just to allow the pleasure to build up further and enjoy themselves, but it was a temporary thing, and Hive demanded other actions.

The car drove off in the darkness, leaving the base behind.

They pulled up to Jerome's house not long afterward, and the pair of hosts stepped out of the car. They had contacted each other more, and they had more of an idea of what the plan from here on out was.

The plane was perfect for spreading more of the neckhuggers to more sensitive areas. Jamming one of the missile planes down into the middle of the White House, or other governmental buildings, would give them access to some of the most powerful hosts in the world. They would be able to spread laws and influence of the Hive wherever they needed it to be, and all they needed was control of the plane.

For that, they'd need more hosts, and specifically, they'd need hosts higher up than just the grunts around here. They needed people like the officers of the base...

And Colonel Arthur Packard.

There was a slight twinge of guilt when he thought of his old friend being one of the neckhugger hosts, but no more than that. There was no resistance, no thoughts of finding another way. What Hive wanted, Hive got, and a good host would be rewarded if they did what Hive wanted.

They stepped into the house, the neckhuggers ordering them to finally take off their shirts. The feeling of freedom that came with having them out in the open was surprisingly intense, and both panther and wolf groaned at the same time, savoring the feeling of having their necks bared to the open air.

For a moment, Jerome wondered if they'd be forced to bond again, to come together and share information until he and Saul went over the edge to climax. It would have been a good way to end the day, though it would have meant more laundry, and despite the forced intimacy, he was starting to like it. It wasn't the reward that the neckhuggers promised, but it was one of those side things that just happened that was almost as good.

Instead, the neckhuggers split them up. Saul was made to go take a shower, while Jerome was made to go and make a meal.

The wolf pulled out the pots and pans and got to work, shaking his head as he felt the cool air on his parasite. Every now and then, he got the urge to reach to the sink and pour a little water on the back of his neck, and the neckhugger burbled. Not happily, not angrily, but in comfort.

Must be all the dry air. Can't feel good for them.

He shook his head as he worked on putting together a meal for him and Saul. It wasn't a big one, just a few fried eggs and a bit of toast. It was a breakfast for dinner meal, something to give them enough food to not get angry in the night, but not so much that they slept painfully heavy. The neckhugger had no input on that; it was just something that Jerome did and preferred for himself.

It didn't take long to have it cooked, and by the time it was on the table, Saul was out of the shower and sitting down. No clothes, but that wasn't surprising. Now that they were in private, now that they were out of the public eye, he wondered if the neckhuggers saw any point in them being -

Water. Shower.

He nodded, moving on. Food would be cold by the time that he got back, but that was fine. The neckhugger needed to be moistened, and he needed to be clean. Otherwise, he would not blend in.

The wolf stepped under the water after removing the rest of his clothes. His normal shower routine, that of running his fingers through his fluff and taking care to condition it, were abandoned in favor of simple efficiency. He cleaned and scrubbed himself with soap and a minimum of fur shampoo, and then was made to step outside without a towel. The wolf was allowed to take one with him to the kitchen to sit on, but that was it.

Saul was halfway through his dinner, and the panther didn't turn around as the naked wolf joined him. They sat across the table, eating the fried eggs and toast. He imagined that they were both feeling the slight wriggles of their neckhugger masters, feeling them wriggling up and down along their necks and savoring the moisture.

It wasn't much, but it was a reminder that they were no longer alone, that they belonged to Hive. They could not escape, no matter what they did, and, now that they were done with the day, he was finding that he didn't want to. Doing what Hive said was easier. Was it right? Was it wrong? He no longer knew or cared.

What mattered was that Hive got what it wanted, because Hive was all, and all was Hive. Or at least, would be.

Tomorrow, we come up with better plans. We got our information. We make contact with the colonel again, find a time when we can come together and maybe infest him, turn him into another host. Not long.

He looked out through the window, imagining that missile plane rising into the sky and carrying a massive payload of the neckhuggers into a place of power. All the people that would then fall in line with Hive...

Not long.

The End