"Phew! That was close, almost got caught by ol' MacDonald."

"Daisy, be nice, we are past curfew." Becca leans over the barn generator and fans her very open cleavage. Even though it is starting to get dark, the heat never seemed to get the memo. "Why'd you drag us out here, again?"

The strawberry blonde watches her extroverted best friend trying to cool off, causing her to swallow drily. "Uhm, right! Surely you've heard the rumours? There are all sorts of scary stories about what goes on this side of the ranch after dark."

"Eeek… I wasn't aware you were taking me to my death, creepo. I've not got it in me for another horror story, Daisy. We could be in an air conditioned house painting our nails or stealing a turn on your brother's Atari!"

"Pish to that, I say." Daisy retorts with a malicious grin adorning her freckled face, adjusting her white sundress as she steps over a rake and approaches the back of the barn.

"What did you just say?"

"Pish! It means I think your suggestion blows, at least I think it does."

"Yeah well… this heatwave is seriously pishing me off, let me tell you."

Daisy shoots a bemused glance back at her friend, quite sure that was inaccurate usage of the slang. Instead of the quick mocking glance she meant to give, the girl's amber eyes linger back on Becca for a second too long. Quite unlike herself, Daisy's best friend Rebecca dresses like she breathes through her skin. She sometimes wonder if she's seen more square inches of bare skin on her bestie than she has her own. She always feels like she dresses plain by comparison, terrified by any semblance of perceived promiscuity in the eyes of others.

"Admiring the jorts, are we?" Becca jiggles her hips with a giggle, Daisy quickly clearing her throat and shaking her head.

"The… you know that name was made to mock them, right?"

"Mock what? They look fuckin' sexy don't lie." Becca grins, her high cut denim shorts combined with her low cut plaid shirt really does give her the look of a farmhand from a teenage boys wet dream. It's definitely intentional, but Daisy can't begin to fathom why. They're almost always by themselves out here except when the owner comes to do their hour of work.

Before Daisy can conjure up a response to such a statement, her wrist is suddenly seized by something hidden away in one of the empty horse stalls. The girl cries out and tries to pull her hand back, but is instead quickly pulled into the stall, her moans of protest soon falling short.

Rebecca's hairs stand on end, the girl's eyes wide with fear and shock. Suddenly, she is alone, too terrified to peer into the stall after watching her friend yanked into it so unsurreptitiously.

As another shiver runs through her, Becca realises that she no longer feels that bothersome heat. A nervous chuckle escapes her with a chattering of teeth, each slow step backwards towards the barn entrance feeling an eternity apart.

Before long, when the final ray of sun of the day brushes faintly against Becca's calf, she turns on her heels and shamefully moves to abandon her friend. She justifies it well enough, telling herself she is better off getting help, but the fact of the matter is she is simply too terrified to do anything else.

Planting her left foot forwards as she begins to flee, a strange sensation greets the girl's backside. A warm feeling, something impossibly smooth, with a subtle buzz or vibration to it, hooks the back of Becca's short shorts and jolts her back. The girl begins to panic when she is knocked back onto the floor, laying down in a daze with her back flat on the dirt and her eyes peering fearfully at the dark entrance to the barn. She sees nothing there from her view, but the next moment, the sensation pushes up into those 'jorts' of hers and she springs to life once again. Quickly pushing forwards onto her knees and motioning to stand, Becca finds that her jean shorts are pulled down to her thighs when she does. Her underwear stays where it is, thankfully, but she decides in her flustered delirium to abandon the piece of clothing as she had her friend of nineteen years.

This time, when she runs away in her compromised state, she makes sure not to look over her shoulder, Eurydice would be relieved… Daisy not so much.

"There best be a good reason for dragging me out after hours, Rebecca." Mrs. Ross grumbles, holding her back while she looks into the seemingly empty barn.

Becca is almost too scared to muster up the words, but she has calmed down somewhat. Before, she feared for her own life, but now that she's not alone she is more concerned for Daisy. How could she just leave her like that? The farmhand is plagued with guilt and worry, there is something in that barn.

…or maybe there isn't. After the two finally enter it and take a look around, Becca is as mortified as Mrs. Ross is unamused. "What is this, Rebecca? Get some sleep already, heaven knows you clearly need it."

"N-no but, I… but. Wait, where's…"

"Well well well, what are you two up to out here? I thought I heard voices! Not safe on this side of the ranch at night, y'know!"

Daisy stands outside the barn with her hands on her hips, a wide grin plastered on her flush face. She looks different, somehow, Becca muses… is it something in her eyes?

Mrs. Ross starts to head back without so much as a word, shaking her head with each hobbled step. Meanwhile, Becca simple stares dumbfounded at her friend, who seems to be quite alright and oblivious to why they would even be out at the old barn. Seeing that Becca can't quite find the words, Daisy opens her mouth again.

"Well, we've got a really busy day tomorrow, were you sleepwalking or something? I'm gonna head back, I need my beauty sleep!"

Since when did Daisy start sounding like Becca, the dumbstruck farm girl ponders for just a moment before seeing the slither of denim under Daisy's dress as it swishes from her sharp turn. That… that can't be…

The next day, Daisy springs out of bed with a smile, heading into the bathroom and stopping in her tracks when she finds it was already occupied. Her brother Clarence is stood in front of the bathroom mirror trying on one of Daisy's bralettes, his eyes going as wide as Becca's had the night prior, when he sees his sister's face in the reflection.

"What the hell! It was locked! I…"

"It was? I just twisted and the door opened, whoops! Violet is so not your colour by the way, you should try the pink. Ooh, maybe we could get some red ones?"

Clarence's face goes just as red as the imagined bras, quickly throwing the piece of underwear into the bathtub as though it were a cockroach. Daisy pushes past him without any notice, brushing her teeth quickly, giving her brother a boop on the nose with her finger when she turns to leave. "Later, Clare!" She signs off, without a hint or irony or mockery, Daisy wasn't sure how to feel when her brother used her nail varnish back when they were children, but why shouldn't people live the way that makes them happiest? That just seems to make so much sense to Daisy now, for whatever reason, maybe that barn really was haunted!

Yeah, it just seems to be a lot clearer to her now. People should just do whatever makes them happy and keep finding even more ways to be happy. She always envied how her friend Becca would wear such revealing clothes without so much as a batted eyelid, while she never had to confidence nor interest to attract. Maybe she did, maybe she does. Oh, maybe she should!

So many ways of making everyone just as happy as she is, feeling just as good as she does. Letting people realise their true selves and not be shackled by insecurity, showing others that they don't need to bottle down things they lock up inside, or making everyone realise how perfect and generous the loving tendril can be. If they all just did as it told them, like Daisy is, then trivial matters like what people are wearing will seem so silly and arbitrary. Daisy needs to tell her friend Becca all about this discovery, she's sure that Becca would just love the tendril!

To say that Becca wakes up is to imply that she had something resembling sleep. It did, to an extent, in that she laid still with her eyes closed… but that may be where their similarities end. Noticing how much of a mess her hair is, she sits at her dresser and brushes it while staring herself down in the mirror. Is she losing her mind, or did all of that actually happen last night? If so, she's scared to meet up with Daisy. Unfortunately for her, the two work together closely for about nine hours a day.

When she eventually drags herself downstairs to make breakfast, she sees Daisy already waiting outside her place with an unsettlingly cheery smile for a Monday morning.

Reluctantly waving for the strawberry blonde to enter, Daisy doesn't waste a second to get herself situated inside the small kitchen, watching Becca eat her omelette with a vaguely analytical expression.

"Don't fill up too much, Becca." She says sweetly, tapping the counter impatiently.

"Oh uh, why's that then?" This time Becca is the one taken aback by her friend's appearance. Daisy is not only wearing the same jean shorts that had been taken from her last night, but she's wearing a plaid shirt tied at the chest to leave her midriff exposed. The way it pushes her breasts up, Daisy's chest has never been on display like this. In fact, is she even…

"Jesus, blondie, are you even wearing a bra under there? Haha… You feeling okay…?"

Daisy simple shrugs, crossing one of her smooth legs over the other, her open toe shoes displaying the freshly painted toes. That's odd, Daisy said she hated 'show-offy footwear'.

"Actually, I gave them all to Clare. They're a little too restrictive for me, to be honest you could think about ditching yours."

Was… was that a flirt? "Oh, Clare? When did that happen?"

"A while ago, she's just shy. It can be fixed, don't worry."

Becca feels tense again, chewing her lip nervously. She definitely isn't misremembering last night, not that she can explain it any better now.

"E-excuse me… what?"

"Oh I meant the shyness, the tendril isn't like that, far from it. In fact, in return for our eternal subservience and worship, it wants to make us as happy and fulfilled as we can be. We'll all be living our best lives, see?"

Feeling her head start to spin, Becca decides to just keep talking and probe for information. "Did you say uh, Tendril?" She would fear for her best friend's sanity had she not been met with an unexplainable touch from something patently tendril-like.

Daisy seems to glow, nodding with a beaming smile on her face. This is the best part, she gets to talk about the tendril! Becca's smart enough to see how great a partnership with it is, right? It's a win-win any way you slice it. Like, as she starts to think more and more like the tendril wants her to, she can feel the instant validation from it's pulsating mass between her legs. The warmth is unlike anything else, she just squeezes her self around it eagerly, submitting more and more to it's radiance. She needs to get Becca on board quickly, she's not allowed to cum until she's converted her.

"That's right Becky! It's going to make us all one with each other, isn't that great? Like, uh, I'd really love it if you were happy to submit yourself to the tendril willingly. That would be so, so awesome of you." Daisy lets out an airy laugh and grinds her thighs together less subtly than she likely thinks she does. The warmth radiating from her is noticeable from their distance, as is the unfamiliar scent of whatever this tendril is beneath her Daisy Dukes. It's an almost clinical scent, like strong chemicals, yet there's a layer of something more organic, like a sweet musk. Maybe Daisy's own excitement could be masking it and getting mixed in? The thought is enough to make Becca go red, her friend never did pick up on the heavy signals she always gave her.

More than that, something is very wrong with Daisy now. She has always been the reserved, bookworm counterpart to her extroverted party girl vibes. Now the girl is talking like an airhead, calling her Becky and giggling affectionately over the smallest thing.

"So uhhhmmm, are you ready to become one with the tendril? One with me? I'd… mmmh, I'd really like it if you became one with me Becky~"

The look in Daisy's eyes is one of pure lust, her glossy lips parted and her cheeks rosy red. Becca grimaces, this isn't good, why does she finally get what she's craved all these years only for it to be the result of some unknown parasite having… drugged her or something? Maybe she needs to take Daisy to a hospital, it could be something poisonous. Becca tries her best to ignore the reality before her, the memory of Daisy being pulled by her wrist, or having her own shorts pulled from her by the tendril itself. Yes, hospital. That's all she needs to focus on right now.

Becca moves to stand up, to call an ambulance and put an end to this nonsense, she can only take so much. The moment she tries to get up, however, the rings sat in wait around her ankles and wrists soon pull taut and tighten around her limbs, securing her to the chair too quickly to react to. The warm, smooth, buzzing sensation secures itself around her wrists and ankles as it binds them, not seeming to give despite her resistance. She understands now, that the tendril is invisible to the naked eye, it explains what she saw last night.

By the look of the lewd contorted expression on her best friend's face, the tendril is still deeply snuggled between Daisy's legs while binding her to the chair at the same time. Becca wonders how long it must be, shuddering at the thought.

"You're not ready to obey yet, are you Becky?" Daisy asks in a plain, almost monotone voice. Becky squirms fruitlessly, trying to pry herself from the chair in a vain effort to escape. She's only serving to tire herself out, which she soon realises, opting to conserve her energy for now. "That's quite alright, neither was I, until it opened my mind a little. Can we open your mind, just a tiny bit? We promise to treat it well."

Becca shakes her head profusely, unable to stop herself from going back to squirming despite her sound rationale. It's hard to be level headed in a situation like this, she's starting to learn. With another light giggle, too light, Daisy plants her hands on Becca's cheeks and stops her shaking, making the girl nod instead and lighting up a moment later.

"Oh perfect, I knew you'd get it. You're my best friend, so I'm happy that I can make you so happy forever. This first part might feel like, reeeaaallly tingly, but it's so good. A wash of pleasure, a jolt to the brain, it's super mind opening hehe~"

No no no no no no no! Becca panics, but finds herself unable to even move her fingers and toes, the strange pulsation of the invisible tendrils seeming to relax her muscles to a standstill. While her mind still races, her body is already so calm. It feels like a massage of sorts, is that the tingly part Daisy mentioned? It was sort of tingly, but not overly so.

The next second, Becca feels something like two small feathers brush against the insides of her ears. It tickles badly, but she's powerless to stop it, the two feather-like extensions of the tendril gently caressing the openings of her ears before slowly tickling further and further in, that almost unbearable tingly sensation now coming in full. She finds herself unable to turn her head at all, starting to sink into the chair while the thin, ticklish strands poke into her head through her ears until---

Jolt!

Becca's mind feels like static for just a few seconds once the strands reach their destination and take root, her body yields even more immediately, her pleasure centres firing off on all cylinders, every nerve in her body seemingly as sensitive and pleasurable as her clitoris. Every slight shift in air temperature, Daisy's warm hands, or her bated breath. It all just feels so… amazing. She knows she has to resist, but this is making her so weak and confused. That dazed panic turning to a dull, happy feeling of extreme tipsiness. When Daisy giggles at her while observing Becca's stupor, the mesmerised girl doesn't even think twice about giggling back, the reaction automatic and shocking herself with how vacant she sounds.

Finding nothing else to focus on but the pretty face in front of her, the face of her crush, she simply stares without holding back. Her eyes falling into Daisy's, so deeply. Everything so perfect and gorgeous, so easy to look at. It makes this easier, Becca thinks shamefully, it makes submitting to this thing sort of enticing. Maybe what Daisy was saying wasn't utter crap after all?

No. No. She has to fight this, she can't just melt into a giggling puddle of brainwashed lesbian sluttery at the kitchen table! She needs to resist. She needs to resist… her pretty friend and the uh, the uhm. The tendril! That's right, need resist that. Why? Because it's bad. Why? It's making her feel good, making everyone happy and stuff… and like… it's sorta hard to remember or figure out why or what she was thinking of doing right now… just, kinda foggy. Huh. Daisy has nice eyes, she thinks with an empty smile, a small line of drool trailing down her chin from the corner of her mouth. Something seems to stop the string of saliva from collapsing onto her lap, however, as a warm mass rises up to greet the girl's hanging jaw. The tendril eases itself in, pushing smoothly past her lush lips and pressing her tongue down to the bottom of her mouth as it situates itself a good inch and a half into the wide open mouth of a very disoriented girl.

Suddenly and without warning, just as Becca's shoulders start to sag down with the rest of her, she feels something hit the back of her throat with force, making her swallow it on instinct. Her eyes flutter and roll back all at once, her fingers clenching and unclenching in the open air and her body convulsing from an intense feeling of arousal. Her lust spikes more than should be humanly possible, every inch of her body feeling like pure sex. Becca's mind is far from escape now, the tendrils in her ears buzzing so distractingly that she can only think what she's allowed to, which is mostly just happiness, obedience and pleasure. When Daisy leans in to mash lips with her, Becca hadn't even noticed that the tendril had left her mouth and had kept it wide open for her. The kisses are inexperienced and sloppy, neither girl conscious enough to hold back anything at all as they eat each other's faces with reckless abandon. The tendril wraps them up nicely in it's boundless coils, rewriting them to be the happiest little drones so they can spread it's warmth and love outwards, until the end of time…

To be continued…