Mindfuck

Art stood over her.

He looked down at the hole. The thin woman reached for the drill.

-It’s your turn, she said, holding the piping to connect their brains and complete the fusion.

-No, Art said. I’m going in.

He lined himself up with the hole, placing his hands on her head to steady her and himself.

Becca couldn't speak. Her jaw was slack. Her eyes were rolled back.

She felt the pressure.

Art pushed.

He slid into the hole, slowly, through the layer of skin and then the bone.

He rested his head on her brain, then he kept pushing.

Becca gasped.

Every thrust sent a spark through her nervous system.

Colors she had never seen. Sounds she had never heard.

-Deeper, Art growled. He gripped her head tighter and kept pushing in.

-Art, she screamed in her mind and in his. In their mind.

Art stiffened. He threw his head back. He made a primal sound.

-Yes, they screamed.

He flooded her, scorching through her neural pathways.

A blinding white light burning behind Becca’s eyes.

Becca’s back arched. A terrifying, rigid bow.

Her muscles locked. The bed frame groaned under the tension.

A seizure shook her. Violent. Absolute.

She was unraveling.

The thin woman and the Amazons watched.

Art pulled back.

Slowly.

A wet, sucking pop echoed in the room.

Becca moaned softly.

She was dizzy.

A thick mixture leaked from the hole in her temple.

Art stood over her. He was panting.

He looked into her eyes and his thoughts bloomed in her mind.

She saw his chest.

She saw his ribs crack open.

Where his beating heart should be there was only her. Her sex. Wet and pulsing in the cavity where his life should be.

She stared at him. She clenched her sex inside him. His heart jumped.

He leaned down. He brushed the wet hair from her forehead and kissed it.

Their hearts beat together.