My week in hell began three days later.
Mom was after me, almost constantly. "Sex," she had told me after our second time the following afternoon, "helps them mature, and we are at a critical stage now." As she spoke she was playing with my cock and I could feel the tingle in my back that told me my Rider wanted me to perform again. It sent a little signal and I sprang erect.
She rolled onto her belly and then up onto all fours and I mounted her from behind. I watched her rider, the single band of gold at its edge, pulsating and felt an answering itch between my shoulder blades.
I felt an urge and knew it was coming from my embryonic Rider and I knew better than to resist. So I kissed her Rider. An odd scent, not bad but not pleasant either, filled my nose and I felt it roil at the touch of my lips. When I touched it with my tongue the taste was bitter and it felt oily. I licked it greedily and the warmth of pure pleasure slowly spread down my back.
My mother was chanting, "momomomomomom," and "mamoonisham" as my rhythm sped up until I came.
She kissed me awake the next two mornings and I would watch the new worm emerge from her nose and I would ask for it.
"Please, mom, help me to join the hive," I would ask. The third time she made me beg and the fourth morning she didn't give me what I needed until I was crying helplessly, begging her for it.
The fifth morning I woke to mom's kisses covering my face and knew, instantly, that the Rider on my back had matured to what she called Stage Two.
When we embraced, my hands caressing her Rider and her hand on mine, the pleasure was pure. It was exquisite. It was beyond sexual. This was a true merging. The sensation of my Rider penetrating my system was pure sensuality without sex. As we kissed I felt it penetrating deeper into my nervous system. There was a hint of pain as its, well, I think of it as its "tendrils" penetrated my spinal cord and started exploring my body.
It was like it was playing with a new toy, figuring out what it would do. I cried out as the muscles in my feet cramped and then cried out again, but this time with pleasure, as I sprang erect and ejaculated. I hissed, "no, please no," as my sight went black, and then breathed a sigh of relief when I could see again. It stopped my heart, making me wonder if it was killing me, and then started it racing. I could feel it in my throat, flipping my epiglottis back and forth, giving me a sharp pain and then blocking my breath. It tickled the inside of my nose and suddenly gouts of snot ran, puddling on the pillow by my cheek. I went deaf and then my hearing was so sensitive I could hear my mother's heartbeat clearly.
All the while mom's eyes were holding mine.
"Isn't it beautiful?" she asked.
I tried to say "yes," but a sudden wave of nausea hit me as my Rider reversed the peristalsis of my system. I barely managed to turn my head before I threw up violently. She grabbed my dick as I was throwing up and I was suddenly hard. She was masturbating me furiously as I threw up and then my bowels emptied explosively.
As suddenly as it began, it was over. My Rider was integrated into me now and I could hear, no, that's not right, and I had the thought, "I am hiveflesh." At the same time I knew, I didn't decide or think or study, I just knew that my role was to spread the hive and impregnate the Hive's breeders.
"We achieve victory through evolving," another thought, fully formed came into my mind.
"We must practice, momomomomom," my mother said as she brought me to ejaculation, and my Rider gave me a special blast of ecstasy.
"To become irresistible, mamoonisham," I replied.
The day became a class. It was almost clinical. She taught me things that were, basically, refinements of what I already knew. She coached me, for example, on how to give her the most pleasure from her clitoris. She taught me exactly how much pressure to apply right at the base of it, how to roll it with my fingertip, how to tug on it with my thumb and forefinger, just the right pressure to lick with, to suck with, how to use my fingers to take her right to the edge of pain and then right to the edge of orgasm and hold her there.
Then I coached her. I taught her exactly how much pressure felt good and how to find it, how to find my prostate with a probing finger, and how to use her tongue when I was in her mouth. But I also taught her about that special spot no woman ever finds, the long nerves that run up the inside of my thighs, and how to use fingertips and tongue there.