Coleoidal Control

This is my eleventh contribution to:

The 750 Word Project 2024

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A short story set in the Coleoidphilia Universe

Preface

Emily Wilson is the great granddaughter of a world-renowned erotic author (😬) and was a junior officer on a space freighter. In Coleoidphilia, she meets, and enters into a relationship with, David, a telepathic, alien shape-shifter, whose default form is a giant octopus. At the end of Determination, Emily decides to become like David in order to save him, herself, and their unborn child. This story is set after Caputpedes, which closes with Emily and David's daughter being born and the couple marrying. If you want to know more before reading, there is a synopsis of all three episodes.

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I love my wife. We've been through the normal ups and downs that all couples face. Me being imprisoned in perpetuity for sex crimes, her wanting time out to date her own species, me getting it a bit wrong from a telepathy / telekinesis point of view. The same shit everyone has to deal with. But we found a way through it. We had a daughter. We got married. And now we also had a son. A boring, typical nuclear family. Which is why my wife's request had been so strange.

"Are you sure, honey? You have been... what's the word?... a little anti the concept of me using my powers on you. In fact I still have nightmares in which you punch me repeatedly." I shivered and bands of disconsolate color pulsed down my arms.

She held my domed head to her and kissed me, which made different shades and patterns course over my skin. "I'm sorry, David. I know I have a foul temper, but it was a long time ago. And... well... hormones, right?"

"Right, Emily." I didn't sound entirely convinced to my own ears, but my wife seemed to accept my words.

She seemed lost in thought. "It's just... OK, I'm gonna blame great grandma again. I found another of her stories. It wasn't her normal stuff. No rampant lesbian sex. No one was tied or whipped. Not a single angel or demon. Instead, it was about mind control, and... I got off on it, OK?" My coloration must have given me away as she bridled. "You're in no position to kink-shame, and don't forget it!"

I blushed, "sorry, honey. So what do you want to do? The kids are with Na-ri and Duxie for the weekend, so we are free to explore. Why don't you explain? Or give me permission to read your mind?"

"Sure. Let's start as I, I mean we of course, aim to go on."

Emily lowered her psychic barriers, I closed my eyes and I reached out with my feelings. 'Shit! She wanted me to do what?'

When I opened them again, she was grinning her lopsided grin. Of course I'd do what she wanted. As always...

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She stood before me, naked. Her slight frame quivering a little in anticipation. I was wracked with anxiety. It was hard to see the potential upside of her request, but I'd already experienced the downside, and it had been pretty low. It's not like I was scared of my wife. It's just she could be kinda intense. And that was before The Machine had made her like me. Like me, but with powers that relegated mine to a child's level.

And she wanted me to take over her mind, to bend her to my will. Her being aware the whole time, but powerless. What could possibly go wrong?

I extended my arms toward her. My metaphorical tentacles embraced her cerebrum. And she was in my grip. 'Please don't let me screw this up!'

Emily's eyes glazed and her body crumpled, I caught her as she collapsed and cradled her tiny body. I knew she was still in there, experiencing everything, but also that she wanted me to take control. 'Here goes nothing.'

Let's start with something we both like. I enfurled her wrists and ankles. Sinewy flexibility wrapping and tightening. Then spreading her comatose anatomy into an exposed X. Her head lolling. 'Do whatever you want.' Those were her instructions. I had permission. She was helpless, physically and mentally. Totally under my control.

And I felt it. Felt my desire rising. She had been right. An itch unscratched. My mind was full of her alluring openings. Tight, but welcoming. I knew the elasticity of her muscles so well. And not just the outer inches. Together we had explored the depths of her viscera in conjoined, pulsing passion. There was no part of her that had not felt my touch.

But where to start? Too many options. Her juice-laden vagina? The warmth of her rectum. It was my choice and mine alone. And I chose.

A shift in my thoughts and her head raised, her mouth opened. Ready, ready for me to do what I willed.

I moved a suckered, probing tentacle towards her face. Stopping an inch short of her lips, I concentrated. And my tip morphed. Transformed into a humanoid facsimile. And, traversing the short remaining distance, I did what I wanted most of all.

I kissed her.

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