Alien Symbiote: Part 4, Killing Lena

Monday

It was Monday, a week after I had infested myself with the alien symbiote. I was sitting in my usual chair when I felt a sudden urge that I needed to destroy someone. I was feeling a growing warmth in my body, a growing compulsive need to do something. The two women were home, Robin and Lena. Robin was off in a bedroom so I felt my attention shift to Lena, my eyes seeming to zoom in on her. It had been a week since my cock had pushed something into her womb and my flush of need to act reminded me of that moment. I shifted forward on the chair spreading my legs and ordered Lena to come kneel between my knees. She looked around for a moment, a small glance of fear visible in her face before she complied, kneeling passively while I lightly groped her breasts.

I wanted to understand the power the symbiote had given me over the unwilling victims. The implanted victims could not resist any order, for all they seemed aware of the wrongness of what was happening to them. I lightly probed the front of Lena’s T-shirt, tracing the outlines of her bra under the thin fabric before lightly pushing a fingertip into the center of each small mound.

I paused with the tips of my thumbs apparently against her nipples, looking into her eyes and asked Lena “Do you like this?” Lena seemed confused for a moment before looking down at her chest, replying with a soft “No, this is wrong.”

Despite the protest Lena did not move from the contact, instead doing as told when I spoke again. “Lean forward a little so my thumbs push into your tits “

Lena complied, visible wincing when slow twists of my hands dug my thumbs into the soft and then firmer inside of her breasts. “Does this hurt?”

“Yes, I don’t like it.”

I was intrigued by the control of her mind as I asked her. “Why let me do this?”

There was a long pause as Lena blinked, confused by the compulsion to do as told then answered. “I have to.”

I smiled as I understood what I wanted to do to Lena and told her, “Ok, lean back and take off the shirt and bra.”

Lena gave a small, denying head twist, even speaking a softly voiced “No!” while grabbing the hem of her shirt and pulling it off over her head, dropping the shirt to quickly pull off her bra to bare her breasts. Lena blushed, not meeting my gaze with her eyes while I stared at her chest. Objectively the 65 year old woman’s body should not be a thrill to me, with her age-deflated, abused, and deeply bruise-marked breasts sagging and yet the power of the moment aroused me to take her shoulders and pull her close.

Lena gasped “Please, no!” before I kissed her thin lips lighty, my right hand closing a soft grip on her narrow neck. Lena’s breath was warm against me, our lips very close as I fumbled with my left hand to find her right wrist, bringing that hand up to my right hand.