Ah, the best laid plans, Brad might have ruminated, if he wasn’t actively engaged in sabotaging all the progress he had made for reversing his plunge into fly-dom.
But… this was so damn hot.
What he didn’t consciously realize was that with every thrust he made he was wrecking the delicate overlay of his human cognitive software pressed so very lightly over what he had mistakenly considered the more rudimentary mentality of the fly.
Sure, insect Brad and human Brad achieved a moment of pure bliss when they both seemed to melt into one consciousness awash in sheer addictive bliss.
The gloopy stew of pheromones, the savory taste of trash that clung to the other fly’s form, both combined to play havoc with the control that Brad mistakenly seemed to think he had over his new form.
He felt his wings buzz, a blur of motion equalling 200 cycles every second. The female fly buzzed in response, and the reverberations from her wings took root deep in his core.
It could have been a rude awakening to discover the true intensity of the primal drive of his new fly mind, but reflection and idle musing were no longer something within his dominion.
The fly’s drive, or at least the half devoted to his need to fuck and to feed, snapped back any feeble tendrils when Brad did make tentative attempts to regain the pilot’s seat.
And then the female fly buzzed away. He pursued, but she soon made it abundantly clear she’d had enough.
He couldn’t stop now. He needed to continue to breed, to transfer his DNA for future generations of flies. The imperative drove him mad, as he explored the house for other flies.
Sadly, no other females shared the space at the moment, so Brad soon found himself exploring the screen of a kitchen window. He and Mark were in the habit of leaving the windows raised slightly to benefit from a flow of mild air.
Now that soft breeze carried promises, promises of more fucking and feeding. He detected pheromones and some devastating scents from neighbourhood garbage cans.
Brad clawed at the screen, testing for exits. After some methodical creeping over the wire screen, he succeeded in locating a small gash.
“No…I have to wait for Mark…”
But the fly pushed its body through the narrow space, which his old self would not have even noticed. He squeezed his body through the gap and popped outside into the wide, vast world.
“Go back!” Brad realised should be his goal, but his traitorous wings obeyed other commands and he soon found himself drawn to the intoxicating scents rising from an almost overflowing trash can located behind a neighbor’s home and overwhelmed with a dense, dark swarm of flies, many of them female.