Hive Control 4

Story by draconicon on SoFurry

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#5 of Hive Control

The progression of the Hive has been surprisingly strong, but there may be a snag that they need to take care of. For the first time, the Hive really shows its fangs.

Commissioned by FlimFlamFun5

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Hive Control Part 4 For FlimFlamFun5 By Draconicon

Three days after Colonel Arthur Packard was infected with the neckhugger parasite, inspections started again on-base. The last time that they'd had one was when he had been made the ranking officer there, and most of the soldiers had expected the inspections to drop down to a weekly occurrence.

The jackal disappointed them by making it a daily thing after he was infected.

It wasn't entirely his decision, of course. The parasites needed to keep in touch with each other, and without regular contact, the information they gathered would remain locked into the groups that knew it. He was the lynchpin that allowed them to come together and then spread their information to the outside world, and the piece that allowed the plan to come together.

Arthur visited the barracks first, standing in the door as the grunts ran from their beds to stand in front of their chests of belongings. The various species assembled there were mostly undressed, only in boxers and white shirts that didn't cover all that much...except the key point at the back of the neck.

Arthur looked up and down the line of men, slowly smiling as he felt the presence of a number of parasites. Even without looking, he could tell that they were there, feel the slight hiss in the air that came with their presence. It was a way for Hive to know when they were in the presence of others that bore the same mark.

He counted them in his head, and when he was sure that there were enough to account for all the soldiers in the room, he nodded.

"Shirts off."

They moved seamlessly together, their hands pulling their shirts up and off, throwing them to the ground and standing with the backs of their necks exposed. The slippery backs of the neckhuggers shone in the halogen lights of the barracks, gleaming with wet skin as they slowly raised their tails in a searching pattern.

The jackal joined them, unbuttoning his jacket, then his shirt, hanging them up besides the door. There was no likelihood of someone coming in to see what they were doing, but he would still have to be quick. They did not need to be discovered now, not after making such advances so quickly.

Admittedly, this was only one barrack on the base, one of four different ones, and each one had the same number of men in it. A total of forty. Still, they had a quarter of the grunts on base, and with a bit of number shifting, he could start making sure that the rest of the base started to change, too.

Transfer thirty men to the other three barracks, he thought, and we'll have the other barracks captured in two days.

With that done, it would be easier to take control of the base. A hundred-sixty men that would be following Hive the same as he did, each one willing to do whatever the overmind told them.

The best of the grunts stepped forward as Arthur turned around, the pair of them lining up back to back. The jackal just managed to unbutton his pants when the tails connected to each other and the data started streaming. At the same time, so did the pleasure.

The jackal grunted, thrusting his hips forward slightly as he felt the sudden rush of happy feelings coming down his spine. His cock rose up quickly, starting to throb against the front of his underwear. The dark fabric was stained almost instantly as pre oozed through, and he fumbled with the front of it.

One of the grunts helped him, an orca that got down on hands and knees to keep it from getting worse. The wide-faced man opened his mouth, licking along the commanding officer's cock to keep it from getting too marked by the pleasures of the flesh.

All the while, his neckhugger continued to download the information from the collective consciousness in the barracks. They had a lot to share, and he could tell that the connection would take a while.

The rest of them were milling about, looking 'normal', but the jackal could see that they were keeping their eyes on the windows and the door, making sure that there was nobody passing by that would see what was happening. They were all working together, a cohesive unit all under the same plan.

It was better than they would have been as solitary thinkers. Each of the neckhuggers carried the same idea from Hive, refreshing every time that they came together. Almost like robots, in a way. Drones to the same cause.

He panted softly, his face smooth and relaxed despite the pleasure that was coursing through him. He knew that it was not quite right compared to the way that most mammals would respond to this sort of stimulation, to getting a blowjob while one's brain was swimming in pleasure chemicals, but it was a result of being connected to Hive. They made one more...efficient. He didn't have to show that sort of expression.

Still, he moaned well enough, and his cock throbbed as the orca's wide tongue flicked along the underside, teasing him and making him ooze a bit more pre in the process.

It wasn't like becoming part of Hive had made everyone a debauched pervert, either. Most of the men in the barracks were still acting as if they were part of the military. More so, actually, considering that they did their tasks and then waited to be given another. There was no need to lay back and jerk off. There was no sudden urge to rut each other constantly. They were...

Well, they were patient. They were waiting to be told what to do to make things better for Hive, and thus, for themselves.

The orca bobbed down to the base of his cock, and the stimulation was enough for the jackal to cum. He held his hand on the back of the orca host, his only way of making him hold still for a moment or two, and he blew his load down the soldier's throat.

"Mmmph..."

Even that was a bit more dull than a person might have done it, less of a moan or a grunt and more just a sound of effort. He huffed slightly, yes, but that was all. Nothing more, and nothing less.

With the ejaculation complete a few seconds later, he pushed the orca back, the tail coming loose from his neckhugger and allowing him to think clearly again. Well, as much as he was allowed to think in the first place, he supposed.

As he buttoned his pants back up, he was allowed to see the statistics and information pertinent to his goals. There were another sixty scientists that had to be collected, or at least dominated from an upper authority figure. There were another twenty pilots that needed to be subdued.

And there was something else. An inspector, disguised as someone lower down the totem pole. One of the grunts had heard about him, had heard that there was someone coming in to make sure that everything was running as well as Packard's reports said that they were. Someone in the upper part of government obviously didn't trust all the reports, and wanted to make sure that nothing went off with the plans.

The jackal tapped his chin as he considered the implications. Nothing bad, not yet, but it would be something to keep an eye on.

If the investigator got wind that there was a conspiracy to seize the experimental plane and take over a country, well...That would be a problem. This would only work if there were no countermeasures in place, and there certainly would be if the plan got out.

Time to start rooting around...

Find the threat to Hive. Eliminate it.

Not recruit?

No.

It seemed that Hive wasn't the most keen on having rats around. No surprise. Hive was completely open about what it wanted, and it didn't seem to take nicely to liars. Even this sort of subterfuge was always a bit anathema to them, from what Packard had been able to pick up. They'd prefer to be open, but when it came to survival, they knew what they had to do in order to keep themselves safe.

He was glad of that. He didn't want to die, and he knew that there'd be a firing squad lining up if anyone knew what the bump on the back of his neck actually meant.

The jackal nodded to the soldiers, and they all got dressed again, going back to their normal day's routine. There was plenty that needed doing, still, and he doubted that they would want to hold back. Hive pushed them all, and there was rest for no man.

#

Charles was one of the drill instructors at the base, and he pushed all of the men hard. Even though they had come out of boot camp at top condition, the Doberman had made it his mission to ensure that each and every one of them would be better than the best for any inspectors that came down from another base. He wanted them all to be impressed, to see that he was doing a good job.

Hell, it might even net him a promotion if he worked hard enough.

The Doberman shouted at the men, making sure to keep cadence as they went up and down, up and down on the fields. Push-ups, best exercise that a man could have, keep those arms strong and those pecs throbbing. Needed to have it, needed to work hard if you were going to keep up on the runs and the exercises that he had planned.

"Hup, hup, hup, keep moving!"

The various soldiers didn't like him, but he wasn't there to be liked. He was there to make sure that they were in the best shape of their lives. And if they were going to go on that plane, if they were going to be launched all over the world to infiltrate targets, they needed to be at their best.

After all, while he didn't understand most of what the egg-heads said about how it worked, he did get the concept of G-forces, and he knew that they were hard enough to withstand with a suit to cancel it out. If his men were loaded onto it, he wanted all of them to be completely conscious for the whole ride.

"Alright, up and running, ladies. I want you around the base in the next fifteen minutes."

"Yes, Drill Sergeant!"

They were on their feet and running, abandoning the field. Charles smirked as he watched them jog off, clapping his hands to speed them up a little bit. It was a bit of his life as a coach back in college, something that he couldn't quite get rid of. Not military, really, but hey, it worked.

As they ran off, increasing their pace, the Doberman followed. He wasn't going to let them think that they could slack off. If they got out of sight, he'd just bet that they'd start walking or jogging rather than running. He wasn't going to accept that. He was going to see them run all the way around the base. If they weren't puffing and panting by the end of it, then they weren't pushing themselves hard enough.

He caught up with them as they rounded one of the four barracks. He stomped along at the sides, his boots kicking up the pace that they needed to match. They followed, keeping up with him as they followed the curve of the base.

Round and round they went, making their way from barracks to command, to the cafeteria and then around the back of the hangar. And it was around the back of the hangar that they struck.

Charles had been just about to overtake them when the two soldiers at the front - a pair of wolves - suddenly lunged for him. The Doberman was able to slap off one pair of hands, but not the second. He was carried straight to the ground, pinned with a boot on the back of his head before he could make a sound, and other stomping boots knocked his arms out of the way and held them down, too.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, maggots? This is insubordination!"

None of them said a thing. Instead, they grabbed for his jacket, pulling it off, and then pulling off the shirt underneath. He was completely topless in seconds, and they pushed his head so that he was laying with his muzzle out of to the side.

Then, and only then, did he see the orca behind him. And more, he saw the thing in the orca's hand.

It looked like an egg of wet skin, at first, but then it unfolded, becoming something more like a stingray. He didn't know what it was supposed to be, but when it ejected a stinger from its underside, something as long as his finger and thin as a needle, his eyes went wide.

"What the fuck is that thing?! Get that the fuck away from me right now, and the rest of you won't be in trouble! Get it away!"

He kicked and lashed out as much as he could, but being pinned down by more than four soldiers meant that he had very little room to work. His boots kicked up dust, yeah, but they were in the dead zone of the base. There were no cameras behind the warehouse, and sound was deadened in the building to allow for privacy between the different scientists.

He never thought that he'd hate that fact so much as he did right then.

Charles kept shouting, kept fighting, right up to the point where the creature was pressed to the back of his neck. The stinger shot out, right into his spine -

"NNNNGH!"

And he went limp. He couldn't move in the slightest, not even when the soldiers grabbed him by the waist and yanked his pants off.

The Doberman's sheath flopped down, his cock swelling inside to a painful extent. The bone in his shaft kept it hard all the time, of course, but it had never felt this tense before he was on the edge of orgasm. As it stood right then, he was huffing as the parasite on his neck kept jabbing him, kept...doing something to him...

His eyes rolled back in their sockets as he felt a strange limpness running through his system, left unable to even twitch as he was laid on all fours, his head and chest against the ground, his ass up in the air. His cock twitched, slowly pushing out of its sheath. It was getting harder, even though he already felt stiff as a board between his legs, and the slippery red shaft slowly emerged into the open air.

All around him, the soldiers were staring down, wordless. None of them said anything. Instead, they opened their mouths...and hissed.

The sound was a chilling one, burning through his ears for some reason. It seemed to resonate with the creature on the back of his neck, because his mouth twitched almost like it was trying to make him do the same thing.

The same thing.

It's controlling me...and it's controlling them...

He wanted to scream, but why? There was something wrong about this, something horrifying...

Right?

Charles had thought there was, but...but there was something...he thought...he thought...

Thinking was hard. He didn't know what to say, what to do. All he knew was that his neck ached a bit now, and the parasite was settling in. His cock was harder than it had ever been, squirting pre-cum as pleasure went through his body as much as the discomfort and limpness did.

Gradually, the discomfort started to fade, a feeling of pressure on his mind taking its place. Charles rolled his head slightly, feeling some of his mobility coming back, but it felt like he'd made a trade to get it.

Submission...submission to...

Hive is All.

He felt the words in his skull, like there was a voice in the bones that was speaking to him. He didn't know what to feel about that, didn't know how it was happening, but it was. The Doberman groaned softly, trying to raise his hand to his neck -

It froze partway there, his body refusing to listen to his commands. His hips twitched, his cock fully out of his sheath, full hard, and he could feel every little droplet of pre-cum running out of it, running down his urethra to the ground.

"Ah...ah..."

Little huffs and grunts escaped his lips as the pressure on his mind continued to grow. Hive kept pushing it at him, kept grinding it down. It left him shivering, shaking, panting, groaning.

"Nnngh..."

Hive is All. Submit to Hive, and all will be well.

"Submit to..."

He was saying something that he didn't understand. The last time that he'd just jumped into something, it had been back in college, when he had signed a contract that had fucked him over as a janitor rather than a coach. He'd been able to get out of it with the help of a lawyer buddy, but...

But this didn't feel like the sort of thing that you could walk back.

Hive is All. Submit to Hive.

"Submit to...submit to...Hive..."

He was saying it, not knowing what it meant, but he couldn't stop himself. He wanted to...

Did he?

Did he want...

Thinking was hard. He'd never been good at it. He'd been better at telling others what to do. Better at following the drills, making them happen.

Submit to Hive. We have instructions.

Instructions. That was good. He could follow instructions.

Submit to Hive. All will be well.

"I submit...to Hive..."

He closed his eyes, and he felt a burst of pleasure behind his brain, a feeling of contentment that rolled all the way down his back and into his balls, and then back up again. He moaned to himself, his cock finally popping its knot free of his sheath, and he could feel orgasm coming right behind it.

In fact, it hit him like a freight train, nearly taking him down to the ground. He shivered, his hips twitching, thrusting like he was rutting some feral bitch, and he came all over the ground. He couldn't help himself. He needed it, needed to cum so badly, and it felt so good to keep blowing his load over and over again as the parasite situated itself on the back of his neck.

The whole process took little more than ten minutes, and by the time that he was able to sit up again, he'd created a mud puddle out of his cum and the dust around him. Some of the other soldiers kicked dirt into the puddle, making it dry up until it looked like there was nothing there, while others helped Charles to his feet and got his coat back on. One even took the trouble to button the Doberman's pants back up so that his dick wasn't hanging out.

By the end of it, he was one of them. He nodded as he understood his purpose. Keep the drones of Hive in tiptop shape, and make sure that there were opportunities for further infestation.

"Alright. Keep moving. One, two, three, four."

He whistled, and they were off again, stomping around the base.

Jerome was kept aware of the goings-on in the city by Saul, and of the events on-base by Arthur. The two of them shared their information with him almost daily, and the regular download into his neckhugger meant that he was kept on the edge of orgasm almost constantly. It was nearly impossible for him to consider any sort of pleasure other than the touch of another neckhugger, right to the point where sex was not really anything that he wanted anymore. Hell, he hadn't even jerked off since the thing had hopped onto his neck.

The progress was going well. They had managed to spread through the city, snaring two more doctors, and the patients would start falling into Hive before too much longer. Antoine had managed to snare three rich men in the last three days, each one having more than enough money to throw away a fair chunk and not miss a bit of it. It made for a good bit of donation money to him, giving him the chance to upgrade his equipment.

The various orders had taken time to come in, but the wolf had created a super-computer room for himself. Triple rows of monitors, allowing him to keep up security for the house as well as do his work. There were multiple keyboards that went to different processes, allowing him to go from task to task without mixing them up.

More than that, the neckhugger seemed to be slightly evolving with him, giving him a way to think of tasks in parallel that he had never been able to do before. It wasn't a gift, exactly, but it was something that Hive allowed him use of in order to further its goals.

He was becoming their leader, in a way. Not quite the full leader, as he was still just a drone for Hive, but he was allowed to think of things for them, allowed to his use his mind and connections to keep their objectives on track.

Jerome enjoyed it, much as he would be loathe to admit it to anyone that asked him about it. There was something about the challenge of figuring out how to overthrow his own species that made him...happy.

Not in the evil genius way, more just in the fact that he had been given a challenge and he was meeting it on every front. He was doing what Hive wanted, what it needed, and he was succeeding with everything that they gave him. One more challenge down, the nest starting to be built up, the colony becoming more and more ingrained in the local area.

There were possibilities of expanding further from the valley if they wanted. They could snare people at the airport, send them through to the other parts of the country, but that was a last-ditch method. The last thing that they needed was for a badly-timed pat-down to find one of the neckhuggers and expose them before they'd taken over the country. If they could get that, then they could start pushing out into the rest of the world, but not before.

Not before.

Jerome was still getting stuff set up, installing the monitoring software that'd display the cameras he was having Antoine and the other hosts install across the town, when he heard the ding of a doorbell. The wolf paused, getting permission from his parasite to get up, and got it. He froze all the computers in mid-process, left the room, and walked back to the entryway.

It was Arthur, probably there with the daily update. He smiled as he opened the door, the wolf gesturing for the jackal to come in. As soon as he shut the door, he started stripping off his shirt, eager for the chance to get another dose of the pleasure, the reward for doing what he could for Hive, and most of all, for the chance to have the information to do even better than he had done before.

By the time that he was naked to the waist, though, Arthur had still only gotten his outer shirt off. The jackal looked at him with a slight shake of his head, and he could tell that the officer was concerned about something.

It didn't have to be said aloud, though. They'd share thoughts and information, soon, and he'd be able to figure it out.

They backed up, touching tails to each other, and the information started streaming through his mind and skull and spine. The pleasure came, making his cock shoot up as it always did, but there was something else in there. Something...different.

He found it. Information on an investigator, someone that was trying to root out a rumor that something was going wrong at the base. Not surprising, considering the high level of secrecy surrounding the project, but that couldn't be all.

And it wasn't. He saw what Hive wanted. They wanted the inspector dead.

That was new, and it struck a bit of a chord. Not enough to make him want to fight it, not enough to protest it, but enough to send a slight shiver down his spine. None of the different hosts had fought that hard against Hive before, and none of them had gone so far as to really rebel. One or two of them had thought about it when they were first infected, but none of them had taken it to reality.

If someone had, though, if someone had gone as far as to make a rebellion against Hive and...

Well, Hive had their spikes in all the right places to end that rebellion real quick. Those spikes and stingers could cut through the nervous system, rip through the spine without even trying, and the whole lot of them would be out of luck and out of life in seconds. The neckhuggers themselves would probably be out of luck for hosts and life, but compared to the danger to the collective, they would consider that a worthy sacrifice.

And that wasn't just speculation. He could hear it in his own mind. His own neckhugger would do that very thing if he was ever thinking about turning against them. If he even imagined that he might have more fun or a better life outside of the collective, outside of being a drone, it would be willing to put him down.

Not that Jerome thought such a thing at all. He had been completely conditioned, and he knew that. He also didn't care. The feeling of belonging, the urge to be part of the collective and part of Hive was too much for him to fight. He liked it. He needed it.

And so, he would follow orders, even if it was a bit chilling.

We have to find him first, he thought. Find him, so that he can be narrowed down, shown off.

That'd require a bit of bait. Something put out there that would draw the inspector in, make him drop his guard and show just what he was hiding as. He wasn't sure how they were going to do that, but he was sure that there was some way or another. They just needed to give him something to find.

An egg, perhaps, or a dead neckhugger somewhere. It would give him something, alright, and then they just had to imitate some sort of connection if he tried to call out, making him identify himself, or start a car search if he decided to leave with it to report in person.

As soon as they identified him, he would be theirs to smoke out or...or do whatever else they wanted to do.

The connection continued, the pleasure running down his spine nothing compared to the new information and the urgency to plan. Sure, it felt good, and his cock was staining his underwear and his pants like nothing else, but the true pleasure was following the desires of Hive. They'd given him a puzzle, and now he had to solve it.

I can do this. I can do this.

The connection ended after a few more seconds, and Arthur stepped away from him, turning around so that they could face each other. Jerome shook his head a few times.

"Definitely something new."

"You can figure it out?"

"Pretty sure I can. It's a simple puzzle."

"Good. They are concerned."

"It'll be handled. We aren't going to lose the plan."

"I hope not."

"We hope not."

It was a simple correction, but it was one that Jerome always did with any member of Hive. They needed to remember the fact that they were no longer individuals. They were drones, collections of people that enforced Hive's will and did what it said. There was no way for them to go back, and they needed to learn to enjoy it.

Arthur was normally pretty good about that, only needing occasional reminders. Saul was...less so.

Ever since he had been granted a similar amount of freedom to go out and expand the number of people infected by Hive, the panther had been around less and less. There wasn't much risk of him becoming a rogue agent or anything of the sort, but there was the possibility that he might expose them by accident. He wasn't as...attached to the collective as Jerome was, and that might need sorting in the future.

But that was the future. For the moment, the investigator was the thing that he needed to handle, and he was confident that he could. The fact that there'd be no changes to the base yet meant that the rat was keeping a low profile, probably holding the role of a grunt or a janitor, something that allowed him to get around without raising too much attention. It would mean that he had access to various rooms, and would mean that they were seeing everything.

On the other hand, it could also be a low-level officer, particularly if they wanted to get in and out of the warehouse with any regularity. They would want to see the plane in the hangar, keep an eye on the different recordings from security, and that required more clearance than just a janitor had.

There were multiple options, and he needed to pick a sort of bait that would appeal to all of them at once, while not being the sort of thing that the average uninfected would be that interested in.

A puzzle indeed, he thought.

"I need to get back to base," Arthur said.

"No lunch today?"

"No. It's busy there. A new Drill Sergeant has been collected, and I need to sync with him."

"Make sure that you don't give him too much to deal with."

"I won't."

"And make sure that you find someone near the top of the scientists, soon. I'll need someone that knows how all of this works."

"And you don't?"

"I'm smart, I'm in intelligence, but I didn't study aviation. I need someone that did."

Because Hive wasn't just interested in taking over this particular plane. It wanted to do more than that. It wanted to have a whole fleet of the vessels, things that could take off and land anywhere in the world. Once one strike was made, Hive wanted to raise the stakes and spread through the world. Make it look as if there had been a number of deadly strikes that had completely failed, all while the world's nations fell to it, one by one.

It was a dream, and an ambitious one, but Jerome knew better than most anyone else in Hive just what the group's capabilities were at this point. They weren't at the point of being invincible just yet, but for such a small group, they'd already grown in capability to the point where eradicating them would be nearly impossible.

They had funds.

They had guns.

They had brains.

Now they just needed numbers and authority, and then they would be nearly unstoppable. Just a little while longer, provided nothing went out of control, and they'd remove the one thing in their way of total domination...

The End