“Not exactly a spectator sport, is it?” Richard sighed.

I tutted and frowned, slapping him on the upper arm. “Don’t be rude! She put a lot of time into this.”

“Sorry, sorry!” He smiled contritely at Jelly. “I didn’t mean to say that. Out loud.”

She chuckled good-naturedly. “It’s alright, I know this isn’t really your thing. And yeah, I guess it is kinda boring if you’re just watching, not actually playing.”

Jelly had spent a while building an island on Minecraft, and had been so happy when she’d completed it, we’d agreed to let her show us. I wasn’t really into Minecraft myself, and I’ve heard Richard describe it as the most boring game imaginable, but we indulged her and let her give us a tour. Her enthusiastic description of her virtual creation had eventually trailed off, as she’d continued to move stuff and smash blocks and whatever (I really don’t have a fucking clue about this game, I prefer Animal Crossing). We stood behind her chair and watched politely, unsure if she was finished, for about a minute before Richard made that observation, not unkindly. He’s not a mean person (outside of hypno fuckery), he just sometimes fails to engage his brain before speaking.

“Oh, I think you’ll like this though, Rich.” Jelly’s avatar trekked over to a big pit, at the bottom of which a dark green, vaguely humanoid shape was bumbling back and forth, bouncing off the walls and growling indistinctly. “I lured this zombie to the pit I made, and got it to fall inside. Now it’s trapped down there!”

Richard snorted. “Nice one.”

“I can’t take the credit - the zombie was super dumb, and easily led.” She grinned wickedly. “That’s why I named it ‘Alyssa’!”

I did an indignant double take. “What?!”

Richard spluttered with laughter. Turning in her swivel chair, Jelly stuck out her tongue at me. I gave her an outraged look, feeling my cheeks redden, unable to stop my mouth from contorting into a grin of amusement at her cheek. “And after I stopped him from being rude to you! Fuck you, you bitch!!”

She cackled. “It just reminded me of you when you’re all mindless and compliant! I bet we could lure you into a pit, and you’d be shambling around bumping into stuff too, unable to figure out what’s going on or how to get out...”

OK, she actually did make that sound hot. I was blushing like a beetroot now, staring at my feet while I struggled to think of a sufficiently snarky riposte - which meant I didn’t see Richard’s eyes light up, or his familiar evil fuck-hawk smile materialise.

“Say, that gives me an idea,” he said maliciously. “Why don’t we make the resemblance even closer...?”

I retract my earlier statement, he is a mean person.

“Nooo,” I grumbled, keeping my gaze down, even though I knew it was pointless. I knew what was coming.

“Alyssa,” came his teasing voice.

“Ahh, shit...”

“Look into my eyes.”

***

There was a gap in my memory, and then I found myself gawking up at the ceiling, my eyes fixed on a point above and in front of me. I didn’t know why. I didn’t know anything. My mind was almost as empty as it was when it got yeeted into trance by my mischievous Master - but there were traces of something that didn’t quite resemble thought... more like instincts, compulsions, grey and sludgy, slowly squelching along somewhere in the back of my brain.

I could feel that my arms were stretched out in front of me. I could feel that my mouth was hanging open, letting drool trickle down my chin, and I didn’t know how to close it. “Uggggh,” I found myself moaning. I had this impulse to step forwards, to plod ahead one step at a time, without direction or purpose - just an urge to move, to walk, endlessly and aimlessly - but when I tried to raise my foot, I felt it was glued to the floor. I couldn’t understand why, and I kept forgetting and trying again. Similarly, my body wanted to lurch forwards, but there seemed to be a chain around my torso, holding me back. All I could do was sway in place, straining gently against my bonds, goggling upwards, groaning feebly, my arms waving in the air before me.

Voices! There were voices. I could hear them talking, and although I couldn’t comprehend their words, I sensed their significance.

The effort of focusing my gaze made me frown stupidly - my eyes seemed to naturally want to roll up towards that spot on the ceiling - but I managed it, driven by the sound of voices, because voices meant people. My mind might be utterly vacant, but my slavering mouth and hollow stomach instinctively made the link. Voices meant people, people meant brains, and brains... meant food.

My barely-focused eyes fell upon Richard and Jelly, who stood sniggering in the near distance. I reached as far forwards as I could with my hands and my head, desperately trying to reach them and their yummy brains. “Hagggh...”

“Oh my God, she’s so cute,” Jelly giggled, clapping her hands together. “Why haven’t we ever done this to her before?!”

“I’ve had the idea for a while,” Richard admitted, “I just thought it’d work better with three people. Another reason to be glad you came along!” He put his arm around her, giving her an affectionate squeeze.

“Gguhh,” I gurgled.

Scurrying forwards, Jelly reached out and waved her index finger in front of my face, and suddenly that was all that mattered in the universe. I had to eat it. I needed brains. For some reason, I seemed to believe that I could find brains in any part of her body. If I could only reach it, if I could only get it in my mouth... I smacked my lips as I extended my neck as much as I could, the appetising finger always staying just out of reach. Jelly waved it from side to side, up and down, around in a circle. My head followed it, not realising she was teasing me, not concerned by her mocking laughter, caring only about trying to reach the moving morsel.

At last she stepped away, leaving the hungry zombie deprived of its meal, moaning with witless frustration. But Jelly’s smirk faded, replaced by a slightly alarmed grin, as Richard announced, “AJ, your feet are released, and your body is released.” The bonds holding me in place vanished, and I tottered forwards the instant I was set loose, the impulse to walk finally unleashed, made stronger by the prospect of food nearby. My thousand-yard stare wavered back and forth between my two partners, settling (as much as my erratic eyeballs could) on Jelly, because she was closer.

Luckily for me, she didn’t try very hard to get away. In fact, as I slowly staggered towards her, she seemed almost eager for me to reach her, taking only a couple of steps back before stopping. I didn’t know why, and I didn’t care. All I knew was that food was near, and food wasn’t going anywhere, and I could reach it.

My arms slid around either side of her, bending and twisting to enfold her in a clumsy embrace as I moved in for the kill. She shuddered with mirth, laughing right in my hungry face, not intimidated at all by the sight of her ravenous undead girlfriend. It didn’t matter to me that she wasn’t afraid - I didn’t have the brainpower to consider the feelings of my prey. And besides, it wouldn’t make any difference - I’d eat her either way.

Drooling mouth open wide, I lunged at her neck - and began making out with it, sloppily and aggressively.

She squealed and squirmed, but didn’t seem able to break free, if she was even really trying to. I let my eyes roll shut as I enjoyed my meal, slurping the brains out of her neck. They tasted sweet, like blobs of actual jelly, strawberry-flavoured, sucked through my wet lips and flowing down my gullet. (Hey, it makes sense, right? If I’m raspberry-flavoured ice cream, she’s got to be strawberry jelly...) I nibbled a little too, my teeth pulling at her tender neck skin.

Eventually I seemed to have drunk her dry - I wasn’t getting any more delicious brain matter. I let her go and stumbled back with a disgruntled grunt. (Ooh, is that where the word ‘disgruntled’ comes from - people grunting when they’re disgruntled? ... Don’t mind me, I’m making the most of being able to ask questions like that while I still have a brain. Zombie Me definitely wasn’t wondering that.) She rubbed her new hickey, gasping and smiling with satisfaction as I unsteadily turned towards Richard.

“You good, Jel?” he sniggered, backing away and dodging around an armchair as I lumbered towards him.

“Very,” came her merry reply.

My legs thudded into the armchair as I tried to walk through it to get to him, no smarter for having ingested my girlfriend’s brains. “I only ask because, as I’m sure you know, zombie bites are infectious,” he said matter-of-factly, circling the armchair as I plodded around it, taunting me by keeping just out of my reach.

“Oh crap,” I heard her mumble, still sounding amused and giggly.

“Starting to feel a little slow? A little spacey?” Allowing me to almost reach him, he ducked under my arms and dove behind me. I slowly, unsteadily turned to my left, following him. “Feeling your thoughts turn to sludge, as your humanity vanishes, and all you know is an all-consuming hunger for braaaains...?”

“Umh...” As I inelegantly swivelled, I caught sight of her standing nearby, looking rather dazed and flustered. She was valiantly struggling to focus, but her eyes kept fluttering and rolling. Her jaw was growing more relaxed, her posture more slumped. I couldn’t know what this meant, or that she was starting to look a lot like me, and frankly, it didn’t interest me. On some deep, primordial level, I recognised that I’d eaten her already. Richard was my prey now.

I finally faced him, and shambled towards him. This time he let me get to him, wrapping him in my uncoordinated arms and pressing my slobbery lips to his neck. The brain matter I sucked out of him tasted like cola, which wasn’t surprising because he drinks it by the gallon. “Oh dear, you got me!” he said in mock disappointment as I slurped and nipped at his neck. “What a shame. Or it would be, if I wasn’t immune to the zombie virus.”

Immune or not, he still had a very tasty brain. But before I could consume it entirely, I felt a hand slide up over the front of my burgundy shirt, pressing against my chest (which, incidentally, also pressed a huge damp patch against my skin - the Drool Queen strikes again). The hand pushed with what felt like the strength of ten men, and I was forced away from my meal, held at arm’s length by my would-be victim. “Hnungh,” I protested, batting at him with the floppy hands on the end of my reaching arms.

“Grurgh,” came a noise of agreement from nearby. I drunkenly swung my head over to see Jelly approaching him from behind, shuffling along with her hands raised in front of her. Her eyes were glassy and unfocused, her mouth slack and gaping.

Dimly realising she was like me now, a fellow predator rather than prey, I returned my hazy attention to Richard, who seemed utterly unworried by the two zombies closing in on him from different directions. Nor did he need to be, with his ‘immunity’ and his superior strength and speed. Hopping onto the couch, he jumped nimbly over the back, his feet thudding into the soft carpet. Turning to her left, Jelly tried to walk through the couch, just as I’d done with the armchair. I passed through the gap between the chairs, and she followed a moment later.

“Here, girls!” he called, beckoning to us and clapping his hands together as he backed away towards the open door on the other side of the living room. “Cooome on! Here, zombies! Follow me!”

“Uurgh.” We staggered over, guilelessly lured by him, pursuing him out of the door and into the corridor beyond. It wasn’t the smoothest journey - we kept swaying and reeling from side to side, colliding with the walls and each other, bouncing around like my Minecraft counterpart. Plus my eyes really didn’t want to stay focused ahead, and it took almost all my remaining effort and concentration just to keep them from rolling up to the ceiling.

“Here, dummies! Dinner’s served! Come get me! God, you both look so fucking stupid,” he guffawed. “Totally braindead. It’s adorable.”

Yeah, thanks, you jerk. I know exactly how stupid we looked, too, because as we slow-mo chased him, he got out his phone and started filming us. That footage is so humiliating. (I’ve jilled off to it many many times, obviously.)

Eventually reaching our bedroom, we cornered him at the foot of the bed - or so we thought. (Not that we thought much of anything.) But being slow of brain and body, we were still easy to evade. He slipped between us as we closed in, and we turned after him in graceless circles, lightly whacking each other with our waving arms as we did so. As we faced him, he planted a hand on each of our chests, and pushed us over backwards, one after the other, sending us toppling onto the bed.

We lay there like flipped turtles, growling and burbling as we struggled to pull ourselves upright, our arms reaching up towards the ceiling. I jerked my torso up off the duvet a few times, but ran out of the necessary strength almost immediately and whumped back down again. I could see Jelly doing the same in my murky peripheral vision. We kept trying, though, fixated on the idea of reaching the delicious Fuck Hawk hovering at our feet. We might have succeeded too, if he hadn’t abruptly announced, “And now, your backs are bound to the bed.” Once he’d said that we were glued down, any chance of escape snatched from us. We were too dumb to realise that, though, and kept trying.

The more energy I spent on my futile efforts to get up from the bed, the less I had left over to keep my vision focused - not that it mattered, since all I could look at right now was the plain white ceiling. I quickly gave up and let my eyes roll up into my skull.

He stood and watched us wriggle and flail for some time, taking the opportunity to film us some more. We persisted all the while, arms waving above us, legs twitching and jerking, heads rolling from side to side. “Poor things,” he said eventually. “It’d be a shame if you were stuck like this forever, I suppose. My wonderful, smart girlfriends, reduced to drooling morons only able to think about eating brains.”

Brains. “Hruuurgh,” I bleated longingly.

“Luckily for you lovely ladies, I can pass on my immunity to you. Not through being bitten, though. No, I’m afraid there’s only one way to cure you...” The mischief in his tone was so obvious, even thick-headed things like us could almost recognise it.

“Whuruh,” I mumbled, feeling his hands on my waist, gripping the edges of my jeans, slowly easing them past my hips, over my ass, down my weakly kicking legs, taking my panties with them. My ripple was very wet, although I hadn’t noticed at all until it was exposed to the air. He moved over to my left, and some moments later, I heard Jelly’s grunts rise in pitch and increase in frequency, in time with a repetitive snick sound. Incapable of even wondering what the sound was, I kept up my pointless struggling against the inexorable gravitational pull on my torso, snarling and salivating.

Soon, though, the snick sound stopped, and I felt him grab my thighs and spread my legs apart. “Don’t worry, girls,” he chortled, “your antidote will be ready very soon.”

Then he slid his cock into my glistening pussy and began to thrust inside me, while I moaned and floundered on the duvet. “Hhuh uhh urgh whuh, uh uh uhh uhh...”

He alternated back and forth between his two sprawled, stupefied sex slaves, spearing us relentlessly while we lay mindless and helpless. It could have lasted hours or minutes - we had no way of telling, our perception of time lost along with the rest of our thought processes. (Although I’d guess minutes, just based on how hot Jelly and I looked in this state - I don’t think he needed long to get where he needed to go!) However long it took, at some point I felt him spurt ‘antidote’ inside me and hastily pull out, moving over to Jelly and ensuring she got a decent dose too.

“It shouldn’t take too long to have the desired effect,” he told us with weary satisfaction. “I’ll leave you to recuperate in peace!” And I heard him plod away.

I didn’t feel much different at first, but the supposed cure started working soon enough. I stopped struggling to get up, finally realising it was impossible, and allowed my body to go limp, lowering my tired arms to my sides and letting my legs flop over the end of the bed. My hooded eyes desisted in their efforts to try to see inside my own head, my eyelids sinking shut. I heard Jelly giggle weakly in the near distance, and moved my left hand over to stroke her side lovingly, to indicate to her that I was regaining some coherence. She responded by reaching out and squeezing my bare thigh, sending tremors through me.

Thinking and speaking were still proving difficult, but Richard’s immunity gradually restored our faculties over the next few minutes as we remained glued to the bed, too disoriented to move anyway. He’s fucked our brains out before, but that’s the first time he’s ever fucked them back in!