The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“How much more can we take, Alex?” Amber caressed my hand as it covered her warm breast. Her smooth back and soft ass pressed against me as we spooned on the large bed. Erica’s tight body squeezed against me from behind, putting me in the middle of a delicious girl sandwich.

“Couldn’t we just leave?” the young redhead asked, as her fingers tickled down my side. “Lani tells such wonderful stories about her island. We should all pile onto your boat, and sail away. We can hide there, away from all of this death, and just live out our days.”

I didn’t answer either of them. There had been a lot of similar questions since we got back from Utah. The last three weeks had been filled with soul-searching and melancholy among the nine people capable of understanding what had happened. The explosion had killed hundreds of thousands of mind-controlled humans, as well as General Norikame and eight of his unconverted staff. I think everyone understood the stakes in this rebellion now, on a visceral level. The problem was, most of them weren’t emotionally equipped to handle the scale of what was happening to the planet.

I knew that millions of people had died since the aliens landed, maybe more than a billion by this point, but the numbers meant little while we’d been tucked into our technological cocoon here in the Bay Area. Like the famous Stalin quote about one death being a tragedy, and a million being a statistic, all of us had our small tragedies in this fight, but the daily death of so much of the world’s population—through starvation, or accident, or some other hiccup in their normal behavior—had just been statistics to us before. Now it was hitting us with all of the force of that explosion.

It was a blessing to have people that could carry on without emotion, like Param and Anatoly. One brief command to ignore any feelings, and they had been able to maintain order with minimal input. Daily work among the drones ran smoothly, while the rest of us indulged in the weakness of being able to feel; to think about all of those people who had been coldly murdered by the aliens in reprisal for our attack.

There were over twelve thousand alien hot spots that we’d identified on the planet. If each one cost us so much to destroy, what would we have at the end? We certainly couldn’t afford to lose any more of the Unconverted, but trading thousands of people, mind controlled or not, for every alien didn’t seem like a winning proposition.

I was feeling particularly down, since the majority of this situation was my doing. I had pushed the general into trying an assault, hoping to gain invaluable data on everything to do with the aliens and their operation. We’d gathered quite a bit of knowledge—we could spend months analyzing the biological and technological information we’d collected—but I’d made a strategic mistake in thinking that we could fight the aliens on their terms. Yes, we’d killed one Blue, but they’d shown just how superior their technology was in responding to that death.

The explosion that had wiped out Camp Williams and a significant portion of southern Salt Lake City hadn’t been nuclear like we’d thought. It seemed that the aliens could release energy equivalent to an atomic bomb, without the risks associated with nuclear weapons. What we couldn’t determine, was whether some alien central command had destroyed the site, or whether it was some kind of self-destruct device that we hadn’t noticed.

No matter the cause, I’d looked at the map of the U.S. showing all of the alien transmission points, and imagined a mushroom cloud rising over each one—needless to say, I didn’t want to be the reason for that kind of destruction, even if it did free the planet.

My girls had all been devastated by the slaughter, and the loss of the general. Every one of them had turned to me for solace, or strength, or whatever it was they needed to get through their grief. I couldn’t deny them anything they wanted, but the responsibility of being the strong one was wearing me down. At the moment, I wanted to curl up with Amber and Erica, and sleep for a week, but that wasn’t going to happen: Anatoly had some discoveries that he wanted to discuss with me, and Vivian hadn’t left her room for two days, plus the rest of the groups involved in The Plan were arguing among themselves again, about who was in charge, and what our next steps should be. With every new problem, Erica’s plan to run away and hide on an island sounded more and more appealing.

“Alex?” the gorgeous redhead said, trying to wedge her hand between Amber and me. “Please, can I...?” She found my hardening cock nestled between Amber’s cheeks, and tried stroking it.

I took her wrist and pulled her hand away. “No, Erica,” I said. I rolled onto my back so I could see her, and gave her a gentle smile, so that she didn’t think my rejection was a rebuke. “You girls have worn me out,” I explained. Almost all of the consoling that I’d done in the last three weeks had transitioned into sex at some point.

Amber rolled over and rested her head on my chest. Before I could stop her, she curled her fingers around my shaft. “I don’t know, lover, it seems like there’s something still working here.” My traitorous cock was proving her right, lengthening in her grip. She looked up to give Erica a grin. “See? You just have to know how to ask.”

Erica watched Amber’s hand as it glided up and down my length, but didn’t make any attempt to join in. We’d discovered that a lifetime under the domination of her abusive father had turned Erica into a submissive. She was smart, funny, and very physically capable, but she constantly needed to be told what to do. Even while she’d been sleeping with her brother AJ, the ideas she’d spouted had all been in an effort to please her father. After I’d freed her, at her mother’s request, all of her energy now went toward pleasing me, even more than the other freed girls.

As the newest, and close-to-the-youngest of my “harem,” she’d mentally placed herself at the bottom of an imaginary hierarchy, deferring to the other women in everything—including those times when more than one of them was in bed with me. So even though she’d asked for my attention first, without some encouragement from me or Amber she would passively watch as the older woman took over.

“Traitor,” I muttered to Amber, as my cock reached it’s full length. She gave me such a wide-eyed look of innocence that I had to laugh. “Remind me to put some loyalty commands into that blonde head of yours.”

Erica’s hand had slipped between her legs while she watched. Her pale skin flushed under its dusting of freckles, as she went after her own pleasure. I tangled a hand in her copper hair and dragged her up to capture her soft lips with mine. She moaned into my mouth as I thrust my tongue past her teeth.

With my other hand, I took the back of Amber’s head, and pulled her down to my straining cock, releasing my own groan as her warm lips and wriggling tongue attacked the sensitive head.

When I didn’t think I could take any more of my former girlfriend’s enthusiastic sucking, I pulled her off me. “That’s all you get,” I said. “Erica asked first.” She frowned, but leaned back to make room.

I twisted Erica’s head around until she faced my standing pole. “You wanted it,” I growled in her ear, “go get it.” She shuddered as I let go of her hair, but then extended her leg in a beautiful display of flexibility, and straddled my thighs.

“It would be better if you bring back the next subject in one piece,” Anatoly said, leaning over the eyepieces of his microscope. “I have managed to guess at the functions of several major organs, and from the alien’s tissue chemistry, I have a good idea of the kind of atmosphere they are used to, but there are still a lot of questions that cannot be answered by studying small pieces.”

I ignored his words, since they were just the product of his normal behavior, and not any real criticism. After his conversion, the surly Russian was no longer able to make actual complaints, which made him so much easier to deal with. “Why did you want to see me, Anatoly?” I said.

“Because my normal behavior is to report to you when I have found something of significance,” he said.

I sighed. “Fine. Report then.”

He straightened up from his microscope. “I have studied the vid footage of the alien, and examined the pieces of its body that we were able to recover, and I believe that the creatures are, in a certain definition of the phrase, telepathic.”

That got my attention. “How can you make that claim?” I asked. “Give me...oh...thirty percent detail.”

He waved me over to his terminal. “Do you remember the protrusions that surround the upper portion of the alien?” He brought up footage from my helmet cam, showing Alistair the Alien just as I’d first seen him. He pointed at the fleshy triangles that surrounded the alien’s “head.”

“Yes,” I said. “Are they what gives it telepathy?”

“In a sense,” he said. “The interior of these nodules is packed with tissue that is analogous to our own nerves. The actual mechanism seems to be a cross between a nerve, and a neuron, combining chemical and electronic transmission. It also generates a magnetic field, which most likely can be modulated as a form of communication. Similar to the way we modulate sound waves with our vocal chords. We would need a true biologist to study the tissue in order to confirm my findings.” I almost laughed at the absurdity of Anatoly Kinslov admitting that he wasn’t the best at something.

“So they generate and broadcast EM signals as a form of speech?” I asked. He nodded. “Well that explains how they’re so good at using it in their mind control.”

“I don’t think they were, at least until they found a way to interface with a real human brain. Do you remember when I said that the eight humans in the boxes could be some sort of transformer? I believe now that they were more than that; a combination of transformer, translator, and filter, to take the aliens’ native language, which doesn’t rely on sound or sight, and convert it into signals that can be used to influence the human brain. Whether that influence is direct neural stimulation of the pain and pleasure centers, or the reforming of neuron pathways into precise instructions, depends on how the human interface is used.”

“So those eight men and women were sort of an organic computer terminal? A user interface for the alien to interact with our world?”

Anatoly nodded. “Which means that each of the aliens has to have a similar interface in order to direct the Sentinels and Arbiters under its control.”

“So how can that help us defeat them?” I asked.

He shrugged—a gesture so foreign to the Anatoly I once knew, that I wondered how it made it into his normal behavior. “I have several ideas on how to use this new data to attack the aliens, but none can be developed without more experimentation. I will outline the different methods and present them to you in...” He glanced at the clock on the wall. “...approximately seventeen hours. Is that acceptable?”

I had to laugh finally. I was starting to like the ugly little scientist again.

“Do you think it’s safe?” I said.

It took several seconds for Kara to answer. “Yes,” she said clearly. “He’s coherent, and he realizes the situation that he’s in. He hasn’t had a violent episode in over a week.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good enough recommendation,” I said. “His last outburst almost killed that orderly at the Neuroscience Center. Not to mention that you were only a few inches away from getting hit yourself.”

She frowned at the memory, but refused to look away. “I really think he’s better, Alex. The medical team has been working wonders on his brain chemistry, and his body after the injury. And I’ve been talking with him every day. I grilled Dr. Montoya on PTSD treatment, and I’m using her blueprint to try to help him.”

I must have looked unconvinced, because she played her next card. “He’s starting to remember things about the aliens,” she said. “I think he knows about their plans.”

That got my interest. “You’re saying he knows things that you don’t? You were both connected to the same alien, remember. And you’ve had a much easier time than he has.”

“You forget though, that Arbiters are disposable in the alien scheme. They slapped the helmet on me, and then worked me like a robot until I almost starved to death. The Sentinels are different; they’re built to survive. They’re valuable to the alien plan, whatever it is. Mateo wasn’t transformed locally, he was put through one of their factories, probably the one in Texas. And he’s been trained. I think he’s got some valuable stuff in his head.”

She got up from her chair, and knelt in front of me. “Please, Alex, just come talk to him. He really wants to help. And he really, really wants to meet you.”

“Really, really...?” I said. “Why is that?”

She blushed a bit. “I kind of told him that you’re the leader of the world rebellion. What soldier doesn’t want to meet his commander-in-chief?”

“Well I hope you haven’t talked me up so much that he’ll be disappointed by the drab reality.”

“Oh, no...no. He’ll be happy to see you.” She jumped to her feet. “He’s waiting for us.”

She led me down the hallway of the former veterinary hospital. For some reason that I’d never asked, Anatoly had picked this place for his Sentinel research facility. The room where Mateo had originally woken up was off to the left, but Kara continued further down the corridor, to a locked metal door. She used an old-fashioned key to open two large padlocks, and threw back the bolts holding the door shut. Her tiny frame struggled to push the heavy door open, so I reached past her to help.

Inside the bare room there was a single large bed, probably taken from a hospital. Lying on top of it was Mateo Colon, the paraplegic Sentinel that we had captured over two months ago. It was strange that I’d seen so many pictures and scans of him, and viewed him through panes of unbreakable glass, but never been in the same room with him.

The plates of his armor fit so smoothly together on his body, that it didn’t look like his movement was restricted at all by its bulk. His head looked odd, the shiny red surface covered in a dull silver mesh—Anatoly had devised the cap to mask any alien signals from reaching his helmet. His left arm, and both legs were fastened to the bed with thick metal bands, but after seeing him almost destroy the containment box the first time he’d been revived, I wasn’t sure how much good they would do to protect us. My only consolation was that without the use of his legs, we could almost certainly outrun him if things got bad.

At the sound of the door opening, Mateo had turned to face us. The smooth front of his helmet reflected a funhouse view of Kara and myself. There was no way to tell where his eyes were looking, or if he even had eyes under the red mask for that matter. The human parts of his face showed a young, brown-skinned man, with a wide nose, and a strong jaw. His skin was smooth, and in all the time he’d been here, had never shown a hint of growing facial hair—probably part of the alien adjustments to his body.

“Kara?” he said. His voice was hoarse, but didn’t sound threatening. We walked into the room, and I was surprised by the faint smell of sulfur. I had expected him to smell like steel and gunpowder.

Kara went to him—to his shackled left side, I saw with some satisfaction—and touched the back of his armored hand. “I’m here, cariño,” she said. I remembered those being her exact words from the last time I’d seen Mateo.

I didn’t know if he could feel her fingers through the protective plates, but he relaxed into the bed at her words. His face was still turned to me.

“Is this him?” he asked.

“Yes, Mateo, this is Alex Drummond, our leader,” Kara said.

“Sir!” I tensed as his right arm flew into the air, but it was only so that he could bring his hand to his temple in a salute. “Sergeant Mateo Colon, United States Army, reporting.”

I had no idea of protocols in this situation, or even if I was worthy of being called sir, but the young soldier’s voice sounded so earnest, that I couldn’t help myself. I raised my own arm in my best approximation of an army salute. “Hello, Mateo. I’m glad to finally meet you. How are you feeling?”

“I...I’m OK, sir. My body just...doesn’t feel real, if you know what I mean?” I nodded at him to continue. “At least the pain is gone. Mostly gone. I couldn’t remember what it felt like not to hurt. And it’s great to have my own thoughts again, instead of that...”

“Yeah, I’ve been on the receiving end of that pain,” I told him. “I can’t imagine enduring that for months like you did. But Kara tells me now that you’re away from the alien influence, you’re doing a great job on your recovery.”

He started to smile at the compliment, but suddenly his expression changed to a grimace. His left arm tugged at the restraints, and I was sure I heard a sob escape him. Obviously, something had triggered a memory.

“Mateo, it’s OK,” Kara crooned. “You’re all right.” She caressed the back of his hand.

“You’re safe here, sergeant,” I said. “We want to help you.” I watched his right arm, wishing that Kara wasn’t in range if he lashed out. “Where are you from, Mateo?” I asked. I wanted to keep his attention on me.

“Los Lunas, New Mexico, sir. Near Albuquerque. Born and raised.”

“You have family there?”

“Yes, sir. My parents are there with my sister and two brothers. At least I think they still are.”

I made a mental note to contact the group of Unconverted living in the mountains near Albuquerque. Maybe if they found his family, I could get them to travel here, or at least get them on vid, so he could see that they were alive.

“Where were you stationed?”

“Fort Benning, sir. Georgia. 3rd ABCT, 1st Battalion, 15th Infantry Regiment.”

“Do you remember what happened on the day the aliens arrived? Were you on base?”

“I...I don’t really remember, sir. I’m getting little bits of memory back, but it’s not clear. I wish I could help.”

“You will, soldier,” I said. “Give it time.”

“I don’t think we have a lot of time, sir,” he said. “One thing I do know, is that the aliens are on a timetable. Whatever they’re doing, they’re not going to stay on Earth forever.”

“Sounds good to me,” I said. “You think if we just stay hidden, that they’ll eventually leave?”

“I don’t know, sir. I wish I did.” He put his hand on his blanket-covered knee. “I wish my legs still worked, too. I want to go kill as many of those fuckers...pardon me, sir...as many of those aliens as I can before they go away.”

I reached out to pat the top of his armored foot. The material was smooth and cool, just like the Arbiter’s helmet. I knew he couldn’t feel it, but hopefully he could see my expression. “You keep getting better, Mateo, and I’ll see if I can give you a chance at doing that.”

“Alex, there’s...ah...something you should see. Come to the lobby, please.” Scarlett’s voice came out of the speaker on my desk.

“Yeah, sure thing,” I answered. Her voice sounded a little odd. “Is everything all right? Should I be armed?”

“I don’t think you need to, but...well...maybe it wouldn’t hurt. We’ve got another arrival, but this one’s a little...different.”

“OK, gimme a minute.”

I took my Glock from my desk drawer, still surprised at how strange it felt to strap a chunk of lethal metal to my hip as part of my everyday routine.

When the elevator opened on the ground floor, Scarlett was waiting for me, along with Atu, the Security Chief. Through the glass in the front of the lobby, I saw three busses parked on the street—large, luxury tour busses, with tinted windows, similar to what we had used on our road trip to the Zaluski compound.

Standing in the lobby next to one of the R-C security guards, was a plump young woman wearing purple sweats with Northwestern University written across her ample chest. Her brown hair was pulled back in a lank ponytail, and I was surprised to see her wearing glasses—an attempt at being retro I assume.

I walked toward her, with Scarlett and Atu flanking me. She looked up as I approached, and as we got closer, started backing away. Her eyes were panicked, and flickered between Scarlett and me.

“Cassandra, wait,” Scarlett called to her. The twenty-something woman stopped retreating, but she shied away from me, and toward Scarlett as we stopped in front of her.

“This is Alex Drummond, Cassandra,” Scarlett said. “He’s the leader of this group, and part of The Plan, just like you.”

Northwestern had a group of three people that I’d been in contact with. Dr. Adkins and his two male grad students had survived unconverted, but I didn’t remember them mentioning a woman.

“Scarlett, is she converted?” I asked.

“No, I’m not,” the woman said, in a quiet voice, with a distinct British accent. “I’m not.” She shook her head, almost violently, in denial.

“Well, then,” I said, “are you part of Dr. Adkins’s group?”

She scowled at the mention of his name. “I’m all that’s left,” she said. “That...that monster didn’t want to make the trip to come find you. So I had to...to make sure he came.”

Monster? There was a story here, and I wasn’t sure I was going to like it. “Cassandra, who is on those busses?” I pointed through the lobby window.

She turned and stared for a moment. “Temple, and Dennis, and Jeremy,” she said. “And their whores. They insisted on bringing their whores.”

“Their...? Cassandra, I’m sure there’s a lot we need to discuss, but I need you to start by telling me how many people are on the busses, and what condition they’re in.”

“Condition?” She turned back to me finally. “Well they’re all animals, aren’t they? And they’re doing what animals do I guess. ‘Normal behavior.’ Ha.”

Something was wrong with this woman. I’d seen enough psychological damage in the last few months to know that she had suffered through something traumatic. I wasn’t sure that I could get a clear story from her, so it was probably better to keep her calm, and see what I could discover on my own.

“Scarlett, I’m sure Cassandra is tired after coming all the way from Illinois. Can you take her to the cafeteria and get her some food? Or maybe a shower? Whatever she needs, OK?” Scarlett nodded at me. “Cassandra, do you want to go with Scarlett now? She’ll take care of you.”

“Mmmm,” the British woman grunted. When Scarlett took her elbow and steered her toward the elevators, she went along passively.

“Atu, please contact Kara, Mike, Eddie, and...how about Vivian. Tell them to come down here immediately. Have everyone except Kara bring their sidearm. And get everyone safety gear.”

The security chief spoke into his lapel mic as I went outside. I kept my hand on my holstered Glock as I walked completely around all three busses. The engines were off, and I couldn’t see or hear anything through the darkened glass. When I got back to the lead bus, Kara was waiting for me.

“What’s going on, Alex?” she said.

“Something strange. Can you tell who’s inside this bus? How many? And are they converted or not?”

She walked up to the bus, and touched the metal side with her fingertips. Closing her eyes and dragging her fingers along the smooth surface, she moved from the front to the back. I followed at a distance, watching the windows for any sudden movement.

“Well,” she said, “there’s a lot of people inside. At least twenty, maybe more. All converted, and except for two men, they’re all women.”

I was starting to see the scenario unfolding here. When my backup came out of the lobby, I set Mike and Eddie to watch the two busses in the rear. Vivian handed me a set of earbuds, and a pair of D-glasses. When everyone was protected, I led Kara and Vivian toward the door of the first bus. Vivian and I drew our pistols, and I pressed the button on the side of the door.

It hissed open, and a blast of hot, rank air blew in our faces. Kara wrinkled her nose, but stayed right behind me. The bus driver wore a dark blue company uniform. He sat in his seat, with his hands on the wheel, staring straight ahead through the front window.

I slapped the remote speaker inside the door and stepped back onto the curb. “Greetings Harmonious Brothers and Sisters,” I said through the mic in my glasses. “I am Alex, and I have the power of command.”

Vivian and I stepped back to cover the door as I instructed the occupants to exit the bus and line up on the sidewalk. The driver was the first one out. The front of his pants were stained, and by the smell, he hadn’t been allowed any bathroom breaks on the trip. He stood to one side, with the same blank expression he’d had in his seat.

The next person out was a petite, college age woman, wearing a red, demi-cup bra, crotchless red panties, a garter belt holding up black fishnet stockings, and shiny black heels. Her black hair was curled and teased, and her face was covered in garish makeup; neon blue eyeshadow, scarlet cheeks, and glossy, bright red lips. Cassandra had mentioned whores on the bus, and that’s exactly what I saw in front of me.

The first girl was followed by another, and another. All dressed in slutty lingerie, and wearing too much makeup.

After the twelfth girl stumbled down the stairs on her too-high heels, the next person out was finally someone I recognized. Dr. Templeton Adkins—Chair of the Department of Biochemistry and Molecular Genetics at the Feinberg School of Medicine at Northwestern University—blinked his bleary eyes as he emerged into the sunlight, naked, except for a pair of red panties that barely contained his package, and black thigh-high stockings that bagged around his skinny legs. He scratched absently at his pale belly as he moved to the end of the line.

In all, twenty-two young women got off the bus, along with the professor and the driver.

“What the hell is going on here, Alex?” Kara said.

“I have a feeling that we’re going to find a similar situation on the other busses,” I said. “Most likely with Dr. Adkins’s two grad students, Dennis and Jeremy.” I pulled Vivian aside. “I need you to gather all of the core people in Orange Building. We’re going to have to sort out all of these converted, and get rid of these busses before Albert the Alien notices something strange going on here.”

She gave me a kiss on the cheek and headed toward the door. “Just watch yourself around all these hot girls,” she called over her shoulder. “Don’t start the orgy without me!”

“Nice building,” Kara said, as the elevator door opened.

“Yeah, and the rent was pretty reasonable,” I said.

We were in the U.S. research headquarters of Ballard Genetics, Inc., one of the top pharma companies in the world. My latest project was being set up in their fourth floor laboratories.

I opened the heavy white door marked Molecular Pathology.

“No you twat, I told you to put it over there!”

I stepped through the door. “Cassandra!”

The plump woman in the white lab coat turned to see me standing in the doorway, and her face lit up in a smile. “Alex! Kara! Hello!” She shoved the man standing next to her, causing him to stumble backward. “Get it right!” she yelled at him.

“Cassandra, stop!” I shouted, as Kara and I moved into the lab.

“Cassie,” the young woman said pleasantly, as if I hadn’t just yelled at her. “I told you to call me Cassie, remember?” She waved at the man in the lab coat who was moving away from her. “Don’t worry about him,” she said, giggling. “He can’t do anything about it, can he?” I saw that her victim was Dennis, her former colleague, and fellow grad student under Dr. Adkins.

I was starting to realize how big a mistake it was, involving Cassandra in setting up the biology lab. She was too damaged from her ordeal in Chicago, but she was the only logical choice. I needed someone who could direct the other researchers—someone who knew the intricacies of molecular genetics, and could speak the lingo well enough to guide some of the top scientists in the country toward our goals. Unfortunately, along with the best that Stanford, U.C. Berkeley, and U.C. San Francisco medical school had to offer, she also had to deal with Dr. Adkins and his two former assistants—the same three men who had raped her and kept her prisoner for months at Northwestern.

Kara gave me a pointed look. All of my girls had warned me, but Cassandra had assured me that she was capable of dealing with her former teacher, and she seemed genuine in her desire to help. However, now that I’d seen her behavior around one of her tormentors, I needed to decide who was more valuable to the project: Dr. Adkins, the best microbiologist I could hope to find, or an unstable, but unconverted, grad student. I’d given her a chance, because I desperately wanted someone who could think for herself; someone to steer the various projects without my constant oversight.

In the wake of Salt Lake City, I’d put out a call for anyone who wanted to come help on my projects here in the Bay Area. I thought it would be a good idea to gather as many useful Unconverted as I could under my protection. That was partly because I felt responsible for the deaths of so many people, and was being overprotective, but also because I’d come to realize that my little operation was probably the best informed, best prepared, and most capable group on the planet.

So many of the people involved in The Plan were useless—probably two thirds of them were spoiled billionaires, politicians, and survivalist nutcases like Chase Zaluski. The other third were more capable, but they were scattered all over the globe. I’d promised to help them with travel strategies to avoid detection, and offered them a place here in my burgeoning rebel army. Until now, no one had taken me up on the offer.

Dr. Adkins was precisely the kind of person I wanted to recruit, and I’d spent several sessions on the vid with him, trying to convince him to head west. He’d never given me any hint of the strange shit that he and his two protégés were into at Northwestern, and he’d never mentioned Cassie at all. Instead, we’d discussed Anatoly’s findings on the alien tissue samples, and he’d finally agreed to come to California to study Chrxjthal biology in person. That had been almost four weeks ago. When I hadn’t been able to reach him during that time, I assumed that he’d been killed or converted, like so many others.

What I hadn’t imagined was that he had a frightened, abused young woman being kept as a slave, who had managed to turn the tables on him and his henchmen just before the trip. While they had been wallowing in sex with dozens of converted coeds, she had secretly recruited drones to modify the computer and environmental systems around campus. In their hedonistic fugue, none of the men had noticed the date changing on all of the computers, calendars, and clocks in their vicinity. During the next eight-day visit by the alien ships, Cassandra had been huddled safely in the Faraday cage, while her clueless tormentors fucked their way through the EM pulse. Since their travel had already been arranged, she’d ordered everyone onto the busses, and set out for California.

Now she was my best chance at getting a coordinated biological program running, if I could trust her not to kill anyone when I wasn’t looking.

“Cassie,” I said, “can I see you in private, please?”

“Sure, Alex,” she said. “There’s an office over here.” She led the way to a small room that opened off the laboratory floor.

I closed the door when we got inside. “Cassie, listen to me,” I said. “You can’t treat your converted workers like that. You swore that you could handle this job, that having Dr. Adkins, and Dennis and Jeremy in the lab with you wouldn’t be an issue. I’m counting on you. The whole world is counting on you. Was I wrong to do that?”

The confident smile stayed on the young woman’s face, but her eyes were wild, flickering from my face, to the floor, to the door back to the lab. I sat down slowly on a stool, trying not to appear threatening in any way. Her hands clenched tight at her sides.

“Cassie?” I said. I tried to sound calm, but she jerked when I spoke. “Cassie, why don’t you have a seat. Do you want me to bring Kara in?” The former arbiter was the closest thing we had to a therapist, at least among those with free will. Her ability to sense emotions helped her empathize with everyone.

The young woman backed into a chair. She shook her head at me. “No, Alex...I’m fine...I just...” Her head lowered, and her brown hair covered her face. Her shoulders shook with her quiet sobbing.

Shit. I had no idea what this girl was going to do from one moment to the next. I was afraid to go to her, because of the trauma that her three colleagues had put her through. The last thing she needed was a man touching her while she was in this state. I got up to leave. “I’ll send Kara in, Cassie. The two of you should talk.”

Before I could move to the door, she was out of her seat, and on the floor in front of me. She wrapped her arms around my knees, so tight that I almost fell over. “Don’t send me back to Chicago! Please, Alex. I’ll be good, I promise, but you can’t send me away.” She pressed her cheek against my thigh, and resumed her crying.

The door to the office swung open, and Kara stared at the tableau inside. I shrugged my shoulders at her unspoken question.

“Cassie?” she said softly, moving up behind the distraught girl. She put a hand lightly on her shoulder. “Cassie, come sit down. I promise, Alex won’t send you away.”

Cassie looked over her shoulder at the smaller woman. “How can you say that? You don’t control him. The men are in control. We have to do what they say, and if we don’t we’ll be punished.” She looked up at me with her tear-streaked face. “I’m sorry, Alex. Don’t punish Kara for what I did, please?”

Kara’s expression was unreadable, but I’m sure mine was a little stunned. “Cassie, stand up,” I said. I took her shoulders and lifted her to her feet. “Come over here and sit down. We need to get some things straight.” I guided her back to her chair.

Kara and I were standing in front of her, but I think we were both at a loss for what to say. I finally decided that a demonstration would be better than words—something dramatic to jolt her out of her brainwashed thinking. “Kara,” I said under my breath, “hit me.”

Her eyes widened, but she understood what I wanted. “Men aren’t the only ones in control, Cassie. Anyone who’s unconverted like you, and like me, we’re in control of our own lives. All of us. Look at me Cassie.” With the other girl watching, Kara turned to face me. “If men were the only ones in control, could I do this?” She hauled back her small hand and let fly with an open-handed slap across my face.

I’d been braced for the hit, so there was no real damage, other than a brief stinging pain. I could feel my cheek heating up, but I concentrated on staying calm, and not doing anything that would look threatening.

Cassie gasped, and covered her face with her hands. When she didn’t hear anything more, she peeked between her fingers. Both of us were standing calmly, watching her.

“See, Cassie?” Kara said. “Alex isn’t going to punish me for hitting him. I can do what I want, just like he can. But what I choose to do is to love Alex, and the other women in our group, and work with them, instead of fighting them. We’re all trying to get rid of the aliens, so we work together. Alex is in charge because he’s the most capable at organizing us, but that doesn’t mean that I couldn’t go off and fight my own war against the aliens if I wanted to.”

Cassie was staring at me with something like awe on her face. Her crying had stopped. “You’re really not going to punish her?” she asked.

“No, Cassie,” I said. “No one gets punished here. I don’t know what you’ve been through in the past nine months, but I guarantee you that we don’t do things like that. Like Kara said, we all love each other, and work together to fight the aliens.”

“Love? But, doesn’t he make you have sex with him?” she asked Kara.

Kara laughed softly. “No, Cassie. We have sex with him because we want to. Because it’s fun, and we like making each other happy.”

Cassie’s round face was thoroughly confused. “But...all of you? Doesn’t that make you his whores? Just like Temple, and Dennis, and Jeremy. They have dozens of whores who have sex with them.”

I sighed under my breath. This was going to be harder than I thought. Cassandra had told Scarlett and Kara the story of her nine month ordeal with Dr. Adkins and his two grad students, but obviously the prolonged torture by the three men had affected her in ways we hadn’t discovered yet.

She had been a PhD candidate in Molecular Biology, with degrees from Oxford, and the University of Edinburgh, who had come to study molecular genetics under the renowned Dr. Adkins at Northwestern. When the aliens appeared last June, the four of them had hidden inside the genetic sample storage room, which must have had a Faraday cage built into its structure. They had stayed inside for almost three days without food or water, and when they emerged, they’d seen the same scene of destruction that many other Unconverted had described to me.

My forty-six days in the bunker on Kili Island had given the world ample time to shake out from the sudden conversion of the population, so I hadn’t seen any of the more disturbing aspects of it. Lani’s family had accepted normal behavior without any problems, but in most of the large population centers, the bugs inherent in telling everyone to just “act normal” had led to a large number of deaths. In Chicago, Cassandra and her three co-survivors had emerged to a scene of raging fires, abandoned cars, and bodies lying in the street. All while the living people acted like mindless zombies.

It was her fellow grad student Jeremy who had started the ball rolling with his end-of-the-world paranoia. He had convinced the other three that the aliens had infected the planet somehow, and that their only hope for survival was to isolate themselves from any contact. They had barricaded themselves inside a grocery store—Cassie was convinced that it hadn’t been “abandoned,” but that Jeremy had killed all of the people working there. Once they were sealed in, things had gotten worse for the only female among them.

Both Jeremy and Dennis had tried to ask Cassie out while they were working together, but she had rejected them both, preferring to concentrate on her studies. Dennis in particular had been interested in the cute British girl, and with the collapse of society, it had only taken a couple of days for his lust to get the better of him. He’d cornered Cassie in a back room and raped her for hours. He’d left her bound and battered on the floor, while he went to find the others. Somehow, he had convinced them that this was the way of the New World, and from then on, she had become a slave to the three men.

They had threatened to leave her to the mercy of the aliens if she resisted, or displeased them in any way. When they noticed the alien ships reappearing for the first eight-day cycle, it had been Cassie that convinced them to return to their storage room, but each time after that, the men had threatened to leave her outside unless she did everything they said. She had never been much of a fighter, but she discovered that she was a survivor, putting up with their abuse in order to stay alive, and keep her mind as her own.

It had been the fourth eight-day before the group discovered that the alien threat wasn’t biological, and that they could command the converted population. After that moment, Cassie hadn’t suffered any more sexual abuse, because every one of the men immediately collected a harem of young coeds to serve them. But they still forced Cassie to do everything else, keeping the men fed and warm while they lost themselves in constant orgies with their “whores.” Every time the alien ships returned, they kept her out of the shelter unless she promised to be their perfect slave.

Even when they discovered that there were more Unconverted, and learned the true nature of the aliens’ mind control, they hadn’t released Cassie from her slavery. They made a point of explaining how none of the others knew she existed, and how easy it would be to have her converted if she complained.

After nine months of brainwashing, she had her own twisted “normal behavior” that had been drilled into her by her sick colleagues. Including, it seemed, that men are the masters, who punish disobedient women, and that only whores have sex.

“Cassie, listen to me, please,” I said. “You remember the time before the aliens arrived, right? Before Dr. Adkins and the other two forced you to do all of those things?” She nodded, still staring at the red mark on my cheek. “You remember how men and women all had free will? How no one could tell you what to do, or force you to have sex with them if you didn’t want to?” She nodded again, and a tear trickled down her cheek.

Kara reached out to take her hand. “That’s how we are here, Cassie,” she said. “We’re all here because we want to be. And if some of us feel like jumping in bed together, it’s because we want to, not because Alex made us. Can you understand that?”

Cassie stared for a long time at Kara’s hand, wrapped with hers. “I can stay then?” she asked finally. “Because I really want to, and you just said we can do what we want. I want to help.”

Kara leaned down and hugged the larger girl. “Of course you can. We’d love to have you stay with us. And I’m sure you’ll be a huge help. But sweetie, you have to watch how you act if you want to stay. You can’t abuse the converted people who work with us, OK? I know it’s hard, especially if it’s one of the men who abused you. But it’s not right to hurt them when they can’t object. We have to work to save everyone who’s been converted, not just the ones we like.”

Cassie looked at me over Kara’s shoulder. “I don’t know if I’m ready to sleep with you though, Alex,” she said.

Kara laughed, and stood up. She reached up to gingerly touch my cheek where she’d slapped me. “It’s not a requirement to join the club, Cassie,” she said. “I wasn’t ready either, when I first came here. I was only into girls. But I had some bad stuff going on in my head, and getting fucked by Alex helped me get rid of it.” She smiled up at me.

“You’re a muffer, then?” Cassie said.

“Muffer? Oh. Haha...yeah, I am. Or I was. I guess I’m technically bi now, but only with Alex.” Kara stood on her toes to give me a kiss. I reached down to squeeze her firm ass.

Cassie stared at her feet. I was getting worried by her silence when she finally looked up at Kara. “It must be nice...being with a woman. Soft, and gentle. Those men, they were so...hard. And angry. Maybe I could try...maybe we could...?”

I was surprised to see the normally blunt Kara actually blush. She looked very young at that moment. She recovered quickly though. “We just might,” she said, giving Cassie a bright smile. “Let’s see how it goes.”

Time to get away from sex and back to killing aliens. “OK, let’s get back to work,” I said.

The young PhD candidate stared at me frankly. “You know, you don’t live up to your nickname at all. Dr. Adkins and Dr. Kinslov used to call you ‘Boy Scout’ when they first started talking by radio, but you seem more like a soldier than a Boy Scout. Like a general or something.”

“Well, thank you, I think,” I said. “Why don’t you show me what’s going on right now, and how much is left to set up. Then I’ll want you to come to our main building and meet with my right hand man, Param. All of the scheduling and request for materials will go through him, so I want you to get acquainted.” I moved toward the door, as Kara took Cassie’s hand and pulled her along behind me.

I settled onto one of the benches along the wall. This would be the thirty-second time that I’d ridden out the aliens’ EM pulse since they landed. It was becoming routine, and that worried me. I had to consciously remind myself not to take anything for granted when it came to the aliens and maintaining my free will. The cage we’d set up in the basement of Orange Building was as protected as I could possibly make it; redundant power supplies, triple mesh grids, and closed circuit control systems.

Unfortunately, all of my guards, at least those capable of mounting a physical defense of the cage, were inside with me. I couldn’t risk them losing their ability to do violence. Anatoly had been willing to sacrifice a few of his “shooters” during every pulse in the name of security, but that was because he had no qualms about permanently destroying portions of his victims’ brains to make more of his psychopathic drones. I refused to go that far, so Mike, and Eddie, and the seven other guards all stayed inside during the eight-day pulses.

That left me with unaltered sentries outside the door. Their only weapon was a panic button that they could press if the cage were attacked in any way. It would alert those of us inside to any trouble; not that there was much we could do if the cage was compromised. I thought back to the way I had defeated Anatoly by destroying his Faraday cage, and it made me painfully conscious of how easily it could be done to me, and to those who were counting on me.

I checked the bag at my feet, feeling the reassuring curve of the Arbiter’s helmet inside. If anything happened during the pulse, it was my last protection against being converted. The blue sphere had saved my life—and my brain—twice now, and I felt a little attached to the alien device. Of course I had objected at being the only one to have a failsafe, but everyone had insisted, including the three completely free women sitting near me. If the cage failed, Kara, Vivian, and Cassandra would all be converted. I could later free them like I had the other women, but they wouldn’t be truly free, ever again. Still, they had all declined my offer to take the helmet. It was pretty humbling, having people willing to give up their free will to give me a chance to continue the fight.

Anatoly was in a chair off to my left, using an offline data pad to go over some of his notes. Cassandra was next to him, and the two of them would trade words occasionally as they compared results. She looked up, and seeing me watching her, gave me a brief smile. She was still a work in progress, but she seemed much better now that she had a job to focus on.

Erica came over and sat on my lap. The other girls all noticed, but no one said anything.

“You know, Alex, we could fuck right here, and no one would care,” she whispered in my ear. “What do you think?”

I smiled at her, and grabbed a handful of her toned ass. “And why would you want to fuck in here, instead of later in a real bed?” I asked.

“Because it turns me on,” she said, grinding her ass into my lap. She pulled down the front of her tanktop, and rubbed her bare tit over my face. “I didn’t know how much, until we did it with Lani that first time, but feeling other people’s eyes on me while I’m getting fucked is just soooo...mmmm.” She moaned as I gave her pink nipple a gentle bite.

I laughed, but then pulled her hand away and tugged her top back into place. “Later,” I said, pushing her off my lap.

She got to her feet gracefully, giving me a pout with no real power behind it. “Later,” she said, then went back to the seat near her mother.

A grinning Lani walked over and took her place. “So, did she want to do it in front of everyone?” The look on my face must have given her the answer. “I like how that girl thinks,” she said, rubbing her ass on me just like Erica had done. “Move these chairs out of the way, and we could have a nine-way orgy on the floor.”

I pulled her down to give her a kiss. I was still amazed that pure chance and an alien invasion had brought this girl into my life. “I don’t know what all of you horny girls have against beds.”

She was just about to tell me when Param came over. “Alex, something isn’t normal,” he said.

“What is it?”

“The pulse should have occurred three minutes ago, and yet we haven’t received the all clear signal from the sentries.”

“What? Have you heard anything from outside?”

He shook his head. “Nothing.”

I lifted Lani off my lap, and reached for the bag at my feet. “Everyone come here,” I said to the room. “Something’s happened.”