The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“I tracked down who killed your parents. The police know, but there’s nothing they can do about it. They are strictly just killers for hire. Hell, they even work for the cops some times, that’s really why they’re still out there. I had one of our agents, a low-level informer, to approach them and question them about the job...” Morgan was briefing us on her investigation.

“Was that all it was...a job...just a fucking job!” Nina cried and buried her face in Max’s chest.

“To everybody but you it was just another job...Anyway, they were willing to talk and give names if the price was right. I authorized the Agent to negotiate. Gave him some black site money and sent him in. He was wearing an NSA wire and tracking unit. He was giving me the names when everything went offline.” Morgan paused.

“And,” Max asked.

“Now there’s a crater where there was an old abandoned warehouse.” Morgan laughed.

«You’ve got more than that.» Fred interjected.

“Max hasn’t asked me with a pretty please.” She laughed.

“Okay pretty please Morgan.” Max shot back.

“Do you know what a kinetic energy weapon is Nina...well we have some. They’re up there in low geostable orbits, and they’re called Archangel. A rod, a simple piece of tungsten steel, is just dropped from orbit and does all that damage, no fallout, just a nice clean boom. It doesn’t even exist officially, and somebody used it to wipe out these low-level thugs because they were mentioning names on an NSA tight line. They have even eliminated the NSA agent whom they think authorized the tight line. Nina what was your father into.” Morgan demanded.

“Honest Morgan we don’t know,” Max told her. “Maybe it’s something to do with the flash drives we got from the bank.” He said thinking fast.

“I had forgotten about them. Maybe your right.” Morgan turned on her heels and left.

«Morgan is worried. Evidently, somebody has dedicated a supercomputer just to monitor our own highly encrypted intelligence lines. Our lines Max. They, whoever they are, were high enough up the food chain that they could authorize the use of Archangel in mere minutes, and erase the agent they thought was responsible in...in mere hours Max. Just for dropping a couple of names on the air. Do you realize how impossible that is in a democratic republic bureaucracy like the United States? Not weeks, or hours, just mere minutes.» Fred elaborated.

Days later Morgan was back, not to discuss the project, but to get her time with Max. She had thought it over and she was ready to try the whole My Goddess thing this time. We left the girls to their own devices and retired to my little corner of the hanger. What did the world do before they invented portable walls? Walls that you can jump up and look over, ha, ha. Lieutenant Pat of the Air Police had managed to find us a whole warehouse full of office walls and king size mattresses, and in no time we all had our, for lack of a better term, rooms and sleeping arrangements set up.

Since that original night the girls had tried it with two and even three girls at once. Two could be fun, but three was just too many elbows and assholes to deal with in bed Max told the girls, and for once they agreed. So after a meal brought from the Officer’s Mess, Max and Morgan retired for the might to Max’s room. His bed consisted of eight king size mattresses in a double layer, the girls were calling it the Play Pen, “Max’s Play Pen”.

Instead of dildoes, vibrators, egg vibrators, nipple clamps and the other paraphernalia littering the girls quarters, all Max had was peanut butter, honey, chocolate syrup, strawberry syrup and preserves, fig preserves and a wide selection of crackers and cookies, including Gram Crackers. By-the-way a word of advice, pineapple is very astringent on the delicate skin of the girls we had found out. Some of the girls developed a very ugly red rash around their nipples and other delicate places after the feast.

Nina had tried to get him to switch to what the English call biscuits, but he honestly couldn’t see or taste a difference. It tended to get very messy in the Play Pen. Sure every individual mattress had a fitted cover. Sure he threw a super-sized comforter on, but how do you keep the mattresses together.

Sweet Eve’s father had a moving business and Eve had always helped him. She said it was simple just use ratcheting lashing straps around the edge of the bed, and our problem was solved. No more single mattress sliding off on its own at the wrong time allowing a knee or elbow to hit the hard cold concrete floor.

Max now had triggers implanted in all the girls, but the girls insisted on the full induction on their night. In fact, some of the girls had gone online to study what was available, and now they made their demands for other techniques to be used on them known.

Eve liked the real metronome, she found one that even had a bright flashing LED on the swinging bar and a variable volume control on the tick-tock. Kim bought a cheap gold pocket watch and a fake gold chain on eBay. Jet settled on a penlight. Fay used her red laser pointer. Morgan not to be outdone by the other girls had one of the government labs make up a penlight that had four LED’s, red, white, blue, and green. You could also adjust its rate of flash and intensity. Nina insisted she just liked the mystery of Max’s choice whatever it was.

On the fourth week, Paula and her aircrew presented Max with an early 1860 Patek Philippe yellow gold pocket watch and 12-karat yellow gold chain complete with T bar, fob and wax sealer. They explained that the seal was used to seal letters in the old days. A glob of hot wax was dropped on the envelope and the seal pressed into it. As on the pocket crests of the suits they had worn to Mexico the new seal was an M and S, over a large P, standing for the property of Maximillian Sulivan. Max asked them what the occasion was and they reminded him that it was his birthday, he was now 40. Asked how they knew they showed him his Facebook account profile that congratulated him on his birthday.

Anyway back to Morgan and her visit to the Play Pen. Max chose to use Eve’s metronome and have Morgan sit in his computer chair with him seated behind her. He leads her up and down deepening the trance for a full 30 minutes telling her how much she loved being in trance and how she deserved that pleasure. Finally, he got to the worship of the Goddess part.

So after Max tranced her, he made his suggestions about what she would feel and brought her back out of it. This time she was to be his banquet table. Tonight was to be the honey night for Morgan.

“I’m poring honey on your mouth, the hollow of your throat, the deep valley between your amazing breasts, on your puffy nipples, now down your luscious belly to the Mound of Venus between your legs. When I get there with my tongue you will be ready to be properly worshiped My Goddess. Until I get there you will be unable to move or cum. Only when I get there can you cum Morgan.” With that, Max started licking. First around the mouth, with her own tongue playing with his tongue and licking honey too. Him feeding her bites of the fig preserves on small bits of cookie. Then down her neck and up the side of her right breast, then the left, then both nipples. Then more figs and cookies. Then around and around each nipple until she was moaning and panting for breath. She was almost ready to pass out by this point. At that moment Max paused.

“Are you ready Morgan. Can you feel it?” Max teased.

“Yes, Oh, God yes.” She panted.

“We’re almost there, but remember that you can only cum when I allow you to.” And he started trailing his tongue down her belly stopping just short of the neatly trimmed patch of auburn hair between her outstretched legs each time. After keeping this up for a while he finally allowed her release.

“Cum for me Morgan.” As she gyrated and jumped about on the bed Max continued to lick.

“Finally we get to the chewy cream filled center, Morgan.” Max teased. With that, his fingers widened her nether lips to allow his tongue entrance. As his face approached those gates she cummed on his face squirting her love juice all over him. After the fifth time, she did this Max moved back and prepared to fuck her.

Following the same script as with Paula, Max prepared her for the pleasure she would receive and always deserve as his Goddess. Rather than entering her in missionary fashion he had her roll over and assume the doggy position. Parting her cheeks and positioning his erect cock he tentatively stroked forward. When it slid in effortlessly he thrust forward until he bottomed out and she grunted. At that point he started a slow steady pumping rhythm, only speeding up as he neared his own climax. After two more like the first, he woke Morgan feeling alive and refreshed for their shower and trip to bed. He would question her tomorrow because he was tired, even if she wasn’t.

Normally she would just go to sleep, but tonight she wanted to talk. Max himself was not 20 or feeling alive and refreshed. In fact, he was feeling downright depressed over turning 40, so he gave her a choice, go sleep with the other girls or get tranced and go to sleep. She went visiting.

«If this keeps up I’m going to have to have one of the girls trance me where I’ll feel that good.» Max grumbled to Fred as he waited for sleep to catch up to his body.

Did you know that the tongue is one of the most sensitive organs of the human body? There are also a lot of chemical reactions going on in the saliva, plus the surface of the tongue acts like a rasp on bare unprotected skin. Whereas the cunt produces it’s own natural lubrication the nipples and breasts are unprotected as any new nursing mother soon learns. If you are not careful a tongue can actually take off a layer of delicate skin, so it’s important to be gentle while having your feast. It’s also good to have a shower handy for afterward because some girls nipples are more sensitive than others. In our case, the Hanger had a large Hazmat shower in the corner. It could hold three or four of us at once easily, as we had found out that first night we were there. Of course, it didn’t have the women’s favorite soft-soaps, shampoos, hair and skin conditioners, and other endless list of odds and ends of female personal care items, which the girls couldn’t live without and soon fixed. That was also when Max almost started a mutiny.

“ Why can’t you women be more like us men?” Max grumbled.

«Oh, it being that you think we take up too much space sir?» came back on the not so private mental channel from those same women.

“Well one soap, one shampoo, one deodorant. I mean why so many?”

«Your complaining about how much time and effort each one of us puts into smelling, tasting, and just looking good for you ungrateful men sir?» they voiced as one.

“Hey, I didn’t say that. You know I love everyone of you.” Max tried to mend his fences fast.

«But we take up too much room in the bathroom sir? Men have it so damn easy all your plumbing is on the outside. You take a shower and it all comes off and down the drain it goes. With us women it’s all internal.» Paula instructed and they all laughed.

“We have to wash it...you know sir our pussy...that thing down here...out regularly to keep it smelling and tasting fresh as a daisy for you men.” Paula allowed.

“Especially after we come off the rag as some of you men describe our menstrual cycle. After our period we have to get rid of the menstrual blood.” Morgan put in.

“Hey, I stand corrected. Forgive this poor ignorant man, well male anyway.” Max apologized. It looked like everything was forgiven when our medical community reared it’s head to add to the controversy.

“When I had my first period I was at an exclusive all girls school on Oknawa, Japan. All us girls were marched in and given “THE LECTURE”. Old foke lore, legend, and myth says that if we douche after sex, that’s French for wash or soak, after intercourse we won’t get pregnant or contract any of those social diseases referred to as STD’s. That’s supposed to be why we wash it out, not to smell and taste good for Max ladies, but it’s bullshit. In fact it’s actually harmful. It destroys the bodies own natural bacteria flora which is part of the bodies natural immune system. Studies have shown that there is reason to believe it actually causes cervical cancer, PID or pelvic inflammatory disease, and even bad ectopic pregnancies. I’m all for feminine hygiene, but I think some of us are taking it too far.” Nina put in her two cents. At that point Max decided to exercise the male prerogative of declaring his male inadequacies and went for a walk, cutting off the imaginary voices in his head as best he could.

“First I ran the tape back and went over everything, and I mean everything even background noise and different frequencies. There were two names mentioned, and something else. The names were a Martin Samson and Larry Black, and a Meltek or something. I ran the three names through the computer but avoided any NSA connections. I just used the social media and used a good VPN this time, if they took out Jamaica who would miss it...” Max interrupted Morgan.

“Hey, I took a cruise ship down there and liked it.” Max put in.

“Samson and Black are pretty common names, but I think they are two graduates of MIT specializing in medical device development. Both hold patents on several devices. Several are connected to the Cochlear Hearing Implants, and some others are connected to devices that tried to eliminate or at least reduce seizures in Epilepsy victims. I also skimmed some of their published articles trying to figure out where they were headed with their research.”

“Anyway, they just dropped off the face of the Earth ten years ago and haven’t published anything since. As for Meltek, I couldn’t find anything at all on it.”

“Using another expendable cutout I’ve sent in a DEA snitch to continue the investigation, but this time she’s on her own. That means that somebody is going to have to go down there and find out what she discovers in a week or so if she’s still alive.”

“I’ve put together a Working Paper on the Epilepsy and Cochlear Hearing Implants that anybody can pick up later. Right now I’ll start my lecture, beginning with Epileptic Seizures, specifically what is referred to in medical circles as Myoclonic Seizures. As we all know the human brain relies on electrical signals to run it. When those signals to the nerves become scrambled a person’s brain starts acting strangely, and as a result, they act strangely. They may start to move uncontrollably, or even hear, see, feel, taste, or smell nonexistent things. A lot of research is being done, but the VNS (Vagus Nerve Surgical Device) is the best we have to treat it with right now. The device consists of a generator about the size of a matchbox that is surgically implanted just under the skin below the person’s clavicle, wires from the generator are strung up under the skin to the patient’s neck where they are wrapped around the left vagus nerve at the base of the carotid sheath. There the bare electrodes deliver electrical impulses to the vagus nerve cluster.”

“Once successfully implanted, the generator sends electric impulses to the vagus nerve at regular intervals. Note the left vagus nerve is used because the right can produce a cardiac arrest, AKA heart attack. The “dose” administered by the device needs to be set and adjusted from time to time so a magnetic wand is used to send coded pulses to the implanted chip device. All the parameters of the device can be adjusted, current, frequency, pulse width, and duty cycle are adjustable.”

“I want you all to note that some of these people’s work patens and published papers dealt with a “Wearable Device “. These devices I have been able to learn involve transcutaneous stimulation and didn’t require surgery. These devices generated electrical impulses that were targeted at the aurical (ear), and at certain other points where it branches off the vagus nerve and passes close to the surface of the skin. They reported some success in the treatment of what they termed “resistant major depressive disorder” whatever that is? There is no...I repeat, NO papers or reports on what RMDD really is. After this, they both went dark and disappeared.”

“I think there is a connection between this Wearable Device they were working on and a Cochlear Implant. A CI is a surgically implanted neuroprosthetic device that provides a sense of sound to a person with severe to profound sensorineural hearing loss. The Cochlear Implants bypass the normal acoustic hearing process, replacing it with electric hearing. Namely, the sound sensation comes from the sound waves that are converted to electric signals which go directly to the auditory nerve itself. The brain adapts to this new mode of hearing and teaches itself to understand what is hearing now. It literally teaches itself to hear. Eventually, it can interpret the electric signals like sound and finally as speech itself.”

“The implant has two main components. The external component, the sound processor, microphones, electronics that include DSP chips, battery, and a coil which transmits a signal to the implant across the skin. The inside component, the actual implant, has a coil to receive signals, electronics, and an array of electrodes which are placed directly into the cochlea itself. The cochlear nerve then sends them directly to the brain itself.” She paused before going on.

“Now changing the subject, this is what I have learned about the smuggling route, well routes really. It starts at Acapulco works itself up to Tijuana, TJ, then to San Diego and LA. That’s one, another goes up through San Luis, to Yuma Arizona and winds up in Nevada. Most of it is straight forward. Dope here, farm workers there, a better grade of prostitute from over here. Everything is normal, well normal for things like this until you get to one group of deliveries.” She paused before going on.

“They pick up drugs from UCLA and USC and deliver them to the Mexican town of La Libertad. I think it’s drugs, my contact is afraid to mess with the sealed package because of what happened to his contact’s predecessor after a seal was damaged. La Libertad is a little town halfway down the coast of the Sea of Cortez. I hired a local private detective over the phone to find out who picked them up and where they were delivered. They wound up on a little private island near the island of Barja. The island is named San Yeque and is very, very private, like electrified fence private. They even have armed uniformed guards and speed boat patrols. I made discreet inquiries and NOBODY want’s to even know anything about them.”

“I did find out something else from my detective for free, which should tell you something. There is a steady stream of young, well my detective actually described them as underage girls, going into the island, and as far as he could find out none ever come out. Neither him nor the people he talked to liked it, but the locals that had complained to the local Federalizes suffered terrible accidents, so nobody complains anymore. He thought I was working for some rich Americano scandal rag like the National Inquirer and hoped I could do something about it.”

“I think that San Yeque is our common denominator. I think that there is an ultra top secret project being conducted on that island.” Morgan stopped and stepped back, waiting for somebody to ask questions.

“You’re implying that...that they are...are...are getting rid of these girls? Killing them?” Paula spoke up.

“They can’t get away with a thing like that...well can they Max.” Sweet Eve questioned.

“I’ve always wondered Eve. I drive by the State Highway crews all the time and see them feed a whole fucking tree into their commercial shredder and wonder. I mean they’ve caught some serial killers, the only one that I know of anyway, that was only convicted by DNA evidence. No body was ever found.” Max answered.

“No Corpus Delicti counselor.” Morgan laughed.

“Well if you shredded them directly into the ocean, and then used a pressure sprayer to wash it down, it would be really hard to get a conviction,” Max said.

“And what does any of this have to do with me killing Danny Gigliona. That’s all I want to do!” Nina all but raved at us. “Why do I have to wait!”

“All of which brings us back to you, the Vasquez family, and those USB drives. I have just hacked their encryption, and I think you’ll want to see this in private Nina before we go on.” Morgan held out her touchpad computer tablet.

“We have no secrets here Morgan tell everybody what’s on them.” Nina irritably answered.

“Okay, but you asked for it. Your father was connected to the Meltek Project. It was set up on San Yeque fourteen years ago. Your father handled the Mexican Government, Martin Samson, and Larry Black did the science, and Jonathan Striker and Melvin Bush handled the surgery. Danny Gigliona is trying to cut himself in now.” Morgan paused then took up where she left off.

“The Meltek Project was...is...well could be a joint US and Japanese project derived from Samson and Black’s research and Japanese micro-miniaturization. The real power behind all of it is something called CAT, and no I haven’t got clearance for that. In fact, I don’t think the President himself has clearance for CAT, it’s like the voice of God or something.” Morgan laughed.

“Anyway at first Samson and Black turned out brainwashed agents, but pretty soon somebody in CAT saw a need they could fill. At that time they started providing bodies to spec to some very wealthy and politically powerful people. Hector, your father, was their main frontman for their product...” Nina interrupted.

“I don’t believe you, My Father would never...” Morgan put her foot down.

“Just sit down little girl and listen you spoiled little brat...” Morgan was interrupted by Max.

“Aren’t you being a little hard on her Morgan?” Max questioned.

“No! I’m not Daddy Max, she’s going to listen to the truth even if I have to hold her down and paddle her ass myself.” By this time Nina was in Max’s lap balling.

“Now where were we? At this time Nina’s mother Terrisa was 32 and as far as dear Hector was concerned she was over the hill. I understand from his diary that Black offered to do your mother for free, but your father wanted one of the newer deluxe models. So your mother was murdered, Nina. You was 10 and underfoot so he got rid of you as soon as he could at 12. Your stepmother was a poor brainwashed slut, they actually lowered her IQ to make her that poor simpering thing you knew.” Morgan paused and looked out over her audience defiantly before continuing.

“Before the explosion was the first time Nina had been invited home for the Christmas Holiday in eight years. She was overjoyed. Daddy was finally going to give her some fatherly love and attention. Hector in his diary says that when he got your Christmas card and saw how beautiful you had become he wanted you. His exact words were, “She looks exactly like her beautiful sainted mother, I have to have her”. He had already made reservations for you on the island and was going to turn you into a thing like your stepmother. The luckiest thing that ever happened to you was getting in that fight with your stepmother and walking out.” Morgan finished.

After Nina ran out of the Hangar we were all worried, but in a few hours she was back. She asked Morgan for her computer tablet and locked herself in Max’s Play Pen. Finally, hours later, she moved one of the wall sections back, that was the door. Max went to her and just held her for what seemed hours.

Nina was devastated. At first she didn’t want to believe, but finally, after reading all the records she was convinced.

“Oh Max, I’ve been looking at this whole thing through rose colored glasses. My father never loved me, he was a monster.” She cried into Max’s shoulder.

“Nina your my first true love. I know your heart and soul and you know mine. I know Morgan hurt you, but it had to be done. We all have our duties. I’m not saying we’re not going to kill Gigliona, but let’s be sure it’s for the right reasons. Gigliona may have had good reasons to want your father dead.” Max rubbed her back and tried to soothe her.

“Knock. Knock. Can I come in.” Morgan asked from outside the open door.

“Yes.” Nina sat up and answered.

“I’ve found out a little bit more about why your father was killed, Princess. Gigliona was trying to muscle his way into acquiring girls...” Nina interrupted her.

“I don’t care Morgan. The father...no...the man I knew died...ceased to exist. My mother was murdered and the woman...no child, well my stepmother anyway, whom I hated was a victim, and I never knew my grandmother at all. I had all that anger...that hate...and all these codes, and skills and a purpose and now I’m empty. Where do I go from here Morgan? What do I do?” She questioned Morgan.

“What do you mean little girl? Did CAT just disappear? Did Gigliona just disappear? Did their victims just disappear? I don’t think so. Your the one with that Bushido, “the way of warriors” code and all that crap. Did you ever watch that movie 49 Ronin, where these disgraced Masterless Samurai are trying to redeem their House’s honor and win an honorable death? Is that what you want Princess an honorable death?” Morgan paused giving Nina time to answer.

“What do you want me to do?” Nina finally asked, well really pleaded.

“I want you to do what you were born to do. What you were bred and trained to do. What everything in you tells you to do. Lead us, Princess. Vanquish the villains, help the weak, free the slaves. Could anything be simpler?” Morgan stated the obvious.

“The best revenge Nina is to live well.” Max laughed.

“Fear not death for that comes to all. Fear that you have never lived at all.” Sweet Eve spoke up from the doorway.

“Or as somebody else once said, “You must never fear death, my lads, defy him, and you drive him into the enemy’s ranks.” Morgan laughed and put her two cents in.

“Who said that Morgan.” Max asked intrigued.

“A young Winston Churchhill of course.” Morgan laughed and winked at Nina.

“Thank you, Morgan,” Nina said simply, and lay back, shut her eyes and went peacefully to sleep curled up to Max who held and rocked her for the rest of the night.

A week later we were in Vegas to see Danny Gigliona and find out his story. Morgan thought she knew it, but Max wanted a full trial before he would sanction the execution. Danny G as he was known to all his employees, made it a habit to eat lunch in his reserved corner of the dining room. Max used his courthouse connections to get an appointment, and this was it. As Max stepped into the room he knew he was being scanned and there was a metal detector at work in the door frame. Max approached the table and offered his hand. Danny G ignored the outstretched hand and motioned him to a chair.

“What are you really here for Counselor” Danny G asked never looking up.

“I have been retained to look into the deaths of the Vasquez family in Mexico Mister Gigliona,” Max said.

“Never heard of them...you can leave now.” Gigliona waived Max away.

“I’m not finished Mister Gigliona.” Max laughed.

“Julio, show mister smart mouth out.” Danny G directed his bodyguard who continued to stand like a statue.

“Julio is a little tied up right now. He has been injected with a small amount of a neurotoxin derived from a small South American tree frog. Right now he is just frozen, he can hear everything we’re saying, he just can’t move...or speak. A little more and he will quite breathing, which I am told is a very unpleasant death. Now, where were we.” Max began his script that he had practiced with Nina. As Gigliona started to rise to run Max continued.

“You will not get a foot Mister Gigliona, of course, the dose you get will not affect your tongue at all,” Max stated with more confidence than he really felt.

Sitting back down, or really collapsing back into his seat Danny G admitted defeat.

“Is this a hit?” He asked, resigned to his fate it appeared. “Have you come back to finish the job Consigliere.” He asked in a contrite way now.

“No, I haven’t, but if the answers I receive displease my client...no benefactor...you may be punished, but that will be after the sentence is passed,” Max stated. “We know that you contracted with the group that blew up the Vasquez Estate in Mexico. By the way, your contractors are deceased, so you’re not protecting them, or their good name by withholding the information. What we want to know is why, and keep in mind that we know about the island of San Yeque, and the other things too.” Max stated for the record.

“Okay! Okay, I have a string of whore houses see. I have this regular customer that is a little kinky. Well, a lot kinky really. Anyway, he tells me about these girls that he’s banging at this other whore house. How they’ve so much better than mine. Well, I investigate and find that the man controlling all this is this Mexican greaser Hector Vasquez. This guy seems to be able to supply as many whores as you need and they will do anything. I mean anything Councilor. Do you know how rare that is today Councilor? A woman that will do anything, and don’t talk back today? Unheard of! So I want to get some, and I start asking for introductions, and this big black guy all in black leather shows up. I mean even this black leather trench coat, like that feller in that Blade movie, wears. I mean he shows up and comes directly to me. He wants to know who all I’ve told all this too, and I tell him that nobody pushes Danny G around in his own casino, in his own house see. I tell him to get out and, direct Jack and Ed to remove his ugly black ass to the alley and leave him with a reminder not to insult somebody in his own house. Well thirty minutes later he’s back, as dapper as ever, and nobody has seen Jack and Ed since. You get it Consigliere, he disappeared them, ha, ha. Well, I tell him everything he wants to know after that. I mean I ain’t stupid, I can see the writing on the wall. So when I get through he reminds me of my links to El Salvador, the Sandinistas and Contras, even the Shining Path people and other things. Then he tells me that I’m to arrange the removal of this Hector Vasquez and gives me a date for it to happen on, even what time. Man, I do it, and just pray (he crosses himself) that I don’t get another visit. I haven’t talked to anybody Consigliere honest. Are you one of them? Are you here to finish it?” Gigliona finished babbling.

“No Mister Gigliona you can forget that this conversation ever happened. If we hear that you have developed...how to put this, “diarrhea of the mouth” about our conversation you will suffer a very painful heart attack. We can reach out and touch you wherever you are Mister Gigliona. This conversation never happened kapish.” Max finished and moved his chair back preparing to leave.

“And Julio?” Gigliona questioned. Max checked his Rolex.

“Right now he is as stiff as a board, You might want to tilt him over and lay him flat on his back...after I’ve left of course. He should come out of it in another forty-five minutes. Have a nice day Mister Gigliona.” And with that Max rose and left.

«Did he tell the truth.» Nina demanded.

«Yes, Mister Gigliona considers himself to be living under a death sentence. He is just waiting for the blade to drop. He’s even contemplated suicide Nina.» Fred confirmed.

«He’s still responsible.» Nina stated flatly.

«But he didn’t want to Nina. He didn’t enjoy it, he was forced to do it.» Max reminded her.

«Mister Gigliona had no choice Nina, and we are still trying to get a handle on who or what this CAT is, Mister Gigliona may be a link that we can eventually use.» Fred laughed.

«Okay, Okay he lives...for now.» Nina conceded, rising from the last table she was cleaning in her borrowed hotel waitress uniform twenty-five feet away from Max and Gigliona. It had been the dart from her blowgun, a simple plastic straw, that froze Julio. It is the things we ignore, the people and things around us that become invisible in our everyday lives that gets us killed one of her instructors had often lectured her.

We had a starting point now, the island of San Yeque. Normally Morgan would just reassign an overhead keyhole satellite to surveil it. In 48 hours we would have know everything that went on in or out of there. I know people don’t think we can see through concrete, but that’s a myth we encourage. The truth is from space you can even use the Gamma Radiation naturally passing through the earth itself to peek at your target. Of course, looking straight down you can’t see the tag numbers on cars, or the faces of the people. For that kind of detail, you need one of the new drones floating around up there.

Have you ever caught a flash in the evening sun out of the corner of your eye? Your peripheral vision processing what your eye catches, but when you look nothing is there that you can see. Well, that might be one of our ghost drones. Manta shaped bags of light clear plastic filled with hydrogen gas, consisting of flexible solar cells, electric driven props, and a package of high-resolution cameras. Circling around up there like buzzards, so far up that you can’t really see them. They get the faces, the tag numbers, and the other details the geosynchronous satellites miss.

Normally you would do this, but this ain’t normal. Not after what happened to the other NSA assets. So Morgan hired a private contractor to surveil the place. Morgan did caution the contractor, Consuelo Rameras, that they were dangerous people. Connie, that’s what she liked to be called, found the missing link. She sat up two telescopes and watched the island for a week filming it all from different directions. One camera caught the large black seaplane that landed and later took off again. Checking with some of her contacts in the DEA Connie found that none of the ground radar stations picked it up.

Connie reasoned that she could alert the DEA to the suspicious activity and get the island raided, maybe find out where the plane was going, maybe even collect a reward. She considered it, but chose to inform Morgan her employer in the end. Morgan rewarded her with a bonus and she joined our little club, loyalty should be rewarded Nina agreed.

Morgan was gun-shy about using NSA assets, though she had figured out that one of the names triggered an instant response from CAT, she didn’t want to push her luck. Until she knew which one, or ones, she was avoiding them all. So our next step was to figure out where the plane was going and who was on it. Once again we would normally attach a transponder to the plane and follow it, but that was out of the question in this case. The locals told us that they didn’t even allow fishing within a half mile of this place. We also found out that they had a sophisticated Sonar detection system. So that ruled out just swimming in and tagging the plane. Besides if they were this paranoid they would probably detect the tracer immediately anyway.

“Okay, I’ve come up with a plan.” Nina addressed us her loyal army.

“I hope it’s better than the last one.” Jet complained.

“How was I to know that a 50 cal, M-107, Barrett sniper rifle couldn’t be gyroscopically stabilized to allow a skin diver to fire it from near the surface,” Nina answered Jet contritely. “Anyway my plan would have worked if it hadn’t been for the water.” She finished.

“So what’s the new plan already.” Eve stepped in.

“We drop the package from a drone when the plane flies under us. We know when it lands and takes off. We know the pilot always uses the same approach and take off points, and always holds the speed at under 100 mph for taking off. So we’re hovering out there just out of their detection range and we swoop down and plant our package and leave. Everything in our package is all passive. It listens and takes pictures of the sky that we can later analyze and find out where they went. Next time they land we send the signal and it drops in the water and stays passive until we send the signal to start it’s transmitter and we scoop it up latter.” Nina finished up.

“And who makes a drone like that?” Jet our electronics expert questioned.

“Well Fairchild Industries makes one for the Hollywood Movie Industry that you can water ski behind, it can do 200 mph flat out without a load, and one of the guys did these cool aerial stunts with it at a World Trade Fair Exhibition last year that I saw on YouTube. It’s got this cool interface that the pilot actually gets strapped into, even has this bubble helmet arrangement, something they call “full-emersion”, but it costs a fortune.” Kim our local daredevil informed us.

“Well, I can build the package if Kim can deliver it?” Jet piped up.

“So order us a couple, Kim,” Nina told Kim.

“Damn it’s fun to work with people that know how to spend their money.” Kim laughed.

In days they were delivered to us at March and after weeks of playing with them we were finally asked to please go play with our toys somewhere else by Lieutenant Pat. By that time Kim was as good as she could get at piloting one. So we packed it all up and left in our RV.

It’s amazing what passes for an RV, Recreational Vehicle, today. In the old days I would have called what we were driving a Greyhound Silver Liner Touring Bus, but today they are your home away from home. Paula and her girls wanted to come too, but Nina didn’t figure we needed them. After all, we didn’t intend to stay the week. We were going to arrive on Monday. Plant the device on Tuesday. Wait for it to come back on Thursday. Then we were going to recover it and come home.

We had wound up with three drones. They were 20K for one, but if you bought three you got a discount. So we paid 47K for the lot after tax. When the plane took off we had all three up. Kim, Jet, and Eve were at the controls. Kim was the main pilot, Jet and Eve were her backups in case something happened to Kim’s drone. With the “full-emersion” rig either girl could have handed off control to Kim.

Kim gently landed on the fuselage just behind the wing. She activated a suction device to hold the drone firmly down on the plane and after applying a generous amount of instant glue placed Jet’s flat package down in it. She waited for a second, tested that it was indeed attached, then released her anchor and flew uneventfully away.

Believe it or not, contrary to what some people will tell you, the Mexican border has no radar holes, unlike the Canadian border which has hundreds. Nap-of-the-Earth flying does you very little good over flat desert today. If there is a hole it’s something intentionally created by some domestic agency for the delivery of something somebody wants. The same thing goes for ground radar. We know when anybody crosses that line. We were all interested to see where this stealth plane landed. It’s not like radar is the only thing used to protect our air space, and radar operators don’t like to be told to ignore a target on their scope, especially when it’s a very small sparrow traveling at Mach 1.

When we analyzed the pictures, and compared them to the star charts, we pinned the landing area down to a spot in the Barry Goldwater Air Force Testing Range. An area that includes the Yuma Marine Air Wing Testing Range now. The new Area 51 for some of the latest UFO nuts out there. We got nothing from the audio or any radio transmission at all from the package. Morgan finally figured that they were probably using tight beamed microwave or optical laser links. Point to point transmissions that would be almost impossible to eavesdrop on.

We now had four points to investigate, five if you consider the plane itself. One, the lab at UCLA. Two, the lab at USC. Three, the island of San Yeque. Four, this spot out in the middle of the desert with nothing around it. Five, the plane itself.

Max wanted to alert the DEA and the state drug enforcement people. Morgan just laughed. Nina surprised us all when she went to the large map we had laid out and addressed Morgan.

“The plane takes off here and it lands here. Look at what’s between, nothing but desert. Lots and lots of wide open flat desert. We know where the eyes in the sky are, right Morgan.” She looked at Morgan.

“Well yes, I guess we do. Sure I can do that.” Morgan answered.

“We bring it down.” Nina laughed.

“But we can’t get on it?” Eve objected.

“I want to bring it down in the middle of that desert with an EMP device. We have those don’t we Morgan?” Nina asked.

“Oh, Hell yes, we have those. You want to put one of them on the plane like we did Kim’s package?” Morgan chuckled evilly, already ahead of the game.

“We know it’s like clockwork. We put the EMP on the plane. We chose our spot in the desert to wait and when it’s over us we push the button and bamb a dead plane, dead electronics. Anything electrical that was on at the time the EMP went off is dead now, well fried anyway, right Morgan.” Nina asked our expert.

“That’s the theory, Princess,” Morgan confirmed.

“No SOS, no cry for help, just a fried turboprop flying boat that has to land right then and there. We pick a stretch of flat desert. If the pilot is any good he will be able to land that plane in one piece. We’ll be there with all the equipment necessary to bury that plane and conceal it from detection.” Nina laid out her basic plan.

“Won’t they search?” Paula asked.

“Sure, but remember they can’t go public. They can’t announce on public radio and TV our plane is missing please help us look for it. All they can do is turn to those eyes in the sky that Morgan is going to help us avoid, right Morgan.” Nina proudly pointed out.

“Now that’s a plan Princess, but once we’ve got it what do we do with it?” Morgan asked.

“We tear it apart, including the people in it, and see what makes it tick. Plus, we let them worry about what happened to it. I would think that it will kind of disconcert them, their plane just disappearing like that. We’ll be watching UCLA, USC, and the island to see what their reaction is. Also, Morgan will be monitoring their communication traffic this time. Right Morgan?” Nina laughed.

“Damn Right Princess.” Morgan joined Nina in laughing.

So began the preparations. Time tables for over flies. Hand-offs to other satellites. Mapping of the route. Finding a suitable landing area using National Geographic Maps. Acquiring the equipment to move the sand. The tarps and netting to cover it all. Acquiring the EMP. Getting everything there to X marks the spot was the last step.

Finally, we were ready. Jet placed the EMP on the plane like the expert pilot she had become. We were all waiting twenty-five miles from the nearest road when the plane came down landing within feet of where we had predicted it would. In literally seconds Nina’s Elite Storm Troopers stormed the plane.

Morgan had got us all this advanced ceramic body armor, including helmets. The only problem was it was white, glaringly white like the Storm Troopers in Star Wars. Max wanted to paint it. Morgan pointed out that they could wear something over it, but Nina and the other girls including Paula and her team loved it just like it was. So we assaulted the downed plane like the bad guy troopers in a bad Star Wars movie and discovered there was only one pilot. There was only one seat for something that might have been human once, but there were what looked to be 10 underage girls strapped down in the plane itself. They were all out cold, even the thing in the pilot seat was out and we left them that way.

The machine we were mainly relying on to pull this off was called a “sand sucker”, a turbine-like device that literally sucked sand through a long hose out from under the plane and spits it out over there. We had two one on each side of the plane. Just like in that Star Wars movie we were the sandworm this time, ha, ha. In no time the plane was below the surface in a hole that was getting deeper by the minute. Next came the anchor points for the cargo net that was going to be stretched over us. Once again the “sand sucker” came in handy. Finally, everything was ready and covered, including us.

The plan called for all of us to be here for the next 48 hours at least under the camouflaged tarps and netting. Morgan and Kim were going to take the electronics apart while we waited, and the rest of us were going to handle the pilots well pilot anyway. At the end of that time, Lieutenant Pat was to come and get us in an old Huey we had bought and reconditioned. She would ferry all of us the twenty-five miles back to the highway and our campsite.

So far everything had worked out, but we hadn’t counted on the 10 girls in some kind of trance state, or whatever this thing in the pilot’s seat was. This mystery needed to be solved now. Kim and Morgan gave Max and Paula screwdrivers and said to start taking everything apart. I guess you could loosely construe this as reverse engineering.

Kim was our resident daredevil and the closest thing we had to a medic because she had hurt herself so often. She got the job of examining the girls and pilot. Since the girl’s vital signs were good she turned her attention to the thing in the pilot seat. She soon discovered that the thing was just a girl in some kind of space suit that covered her from head to toe. Jet was going to remove it until Max asked her if it was oxygen in the suit.

“How would I know?” She finally asked.

“Find the oxygen supply or whatever is supplying what it’s breathing. There should be a tube or hose and probably a tank or something, but first, check if she’s even breathing Jet.” Max answered.

“Oh, she’s breathing Max. What? you think she’s a Martian of something Max.” Jet

questioned.

“Hell I don’t know, but why else would she be wearing that space suit, the other girls aren’t. Only her Jet.” Max reasoned.

“Okay Max I’ve found a tank over here and it’s got some gages on it. It’s green and it says O2 and its needle is almost in the red. What do I do Max?” Jet relayed to Max.

“That’s good enough for me Jet. Peel her out of that thing, but be careful there might be other connections you can’t see. Whoever THEY are may not want her to take off that suit Jet.” Max shouted from the back of the plane where he was working now.

Doing a lot of scuba diving Jet was familiar with most of the dry suits so she looked for the releases. She finally found it in the back and removed the collar that was holding the helmet on. As she was pulling it off a cable came into view. Checking it she found it was attached to the back of the girl’s head. In fact, the whole of the back of her head was evidently shaved to accommodate a plug back there she realized. Bending down for a closer examination she discovered that the cable had some kind of connector. Just then the plane shifted and losing her balance Jet accidentally jerked the cable and it came loose. She then checked the girls’ vitals which were good.

“You were right Max, she has a connector in the back of her head. I got it loose without any damage, I think. Can I pull her out of this chair now Max.” Jet asked.

“Sure drag her back here with the other sleeping beauties Jet.” Max agreed.

Soon she was asleep with the other girls, strapped down just like they were after they got the suit off her. Curious he checked the other girls for a connector and found one on each of their heads too.

“What do you think they’re for?” Max asked out loud.

“Obviously somebody has figured out a way to directly interface a human brain kid,” Morgan answered.

“Do you think they were mind controlling her?” Jet asked.

“For all we know she was controlling all this. We won’t know until we can wake them up and question them.” Morgan put in.

«We also don’t know how much damage the EMP did.» Fred added to our discussion.

“What? You think they were hurt?» Max questioned.

«Well think about it. They might have just been in that trance and shut down, but her, the pilot, she was awake and operating the plane. Now, look at her. If that connector connects to anything electronic in there there’s a good chance we fried it.» Fred summed it up for us.

“How will we know?” Jet asked.

«We haven’t got the right equipment to even look Jet.» Fred answered.

“Hey, what we have to answer right now is if one of these things manages to reboot will it scream for Momma. Meaning can an EM signal get out of here.” Morgan brought us all down to Earth again.

“But we’re rescuing them!” Sweet Eve put in.

“Classic, just fucking classic. Ever hear of Stockholm Syndrome sweetie. You assume they still want to be rescued, and that will get you killed. By the time you get to them, they’ve flipped and identified with the bad guys now honey. Let your guard down and they’ll kill you and warn their buddies. Never assume anything.” Morgan berated us all.

«Morgan is right. We may not have the equipment to study them, and this may not be a “Clean Room Environment”, but we did bring enough drugs to make damn sure they don’t wake up and call their buddies.» Fred said.

“Jet you have the most experience with these things. Figure out a dosage and time schedule and do it. I’m with Morgan and Fred on this, we don’t want them waking up in here and freaking out.” Max ordered.

It turned out that the 48 hours was not enough. Just because we couldn’t send anything didn’t mean we couldn’t listen. 96 hours passed and they were still searching for the plane. By this time they had even gotten Mexico’s okay to use the planes at Goldwater to overfly the route. It was a whole 5 days, 120 hours before things went back to normal and we could call Lieutenant Pat to come and get us. By this time we had almost exhausted our food and water. We had used tubing and a converted drink bottle to force-feed sugar water down our prisoner’s throats directly into their stomachs, but we were not really sure how well they were doing by this time.

Originally we were going to have Pat fly us to our RV, but now Morgan voted that Pat fly her and the eleven girls directly back to March and Max and the girls hike back to the RV. Nobody liked the situation. There was the possibility that Max and company would be seen and noticed by a fly over. There was also the possibility that Pat’s chopper would be noticed, but our prisoners were in pretty bad shape and none of us, even Morgan, could bring themselves to outright kill them.

So it was agreed, Morgan took the girls back directly to March after she refueled here. We stayed here, took down the netting and tarps, sealed and buried the whole plane, and hiked out. The reason it had to be Morgan was because she had the necessary military clearances to get them medical attention and keep it all top secret.

After hiking the 25 miles Max was tired but in pretty good condition for a 40-year-old out of shape lawyer. The girls, on the other hand, complained all the way. They accused Max of trying to kill them off on a forced march to Hell. Max just good naturally laughed, saying, “When I was in the Marines”, over and over. He did try to count cadence once, but the girls all stopped and threw their water bottles at him, after that he left it alone.

A week later Max and company were back home and Morgan had managed to contain the medical situation to one doctor and one nurse in Sick Bay. They were doing as good as could be expected the doctor said. Well for eleven women in deep comas they were doing good. The doctor explained that they all appeared to be in an induced coma as the result of some trauma they had suffered.

Since it was all eleven she, Dr. Stacy James, thought at first it was due to the drugs we had given them, in spite of what Morgan told her. So she had her nurse, Nancy Smith, intubate and prepares to ventilate all her patents since Morgan refused to allow her to call in other help. She also set up IV’s to administered fluids. So far her examination had not turned up the cause of their condition. She suspected trauma, but no external evidence was apparent. The socket she discovered on the back of each girls head showed no signs of infection, and the hair follicles surrounding it were, she thought at first deliberated, but upon closer inspection, she suspected electrology or one of the new laser techniques was used to remove the hair follicle permanently.

By the eye’s pupil reaction she suspected internal swelling and possible bleeding causing the brain to be pushed down on the brain stem, which was probably damaging the RAS (Reticular Activating System). RAS is that part of the brain that’s responsible for arousal and awareness. Right now they fit the definition of a person in a deep coma. Unable to voluntarily open their eyes, does not have a sleep-wake cycle, is unresponsive to strong tactile sensation, in this case, pain, being slapped and shouted at, and scored a 5 on the Glasgow Coma Scale. Doc James then let Morgan know that without experts and further testing she was endangering her patient’s lives.

“Oh come on Doc they’re not getting any worse. You’ve stabilized them and that’s all anybody can do for them right now.” Morgan huffed.

“I do not know that for sure. They could have been exposed to anything. We need the proper blood tests and work ups for one thing.” Doc huffed back.

“It’ll only be a couple of days and Max will be back and answer all your questions Doc.” Morgan laughed.

“If you didn’t have Lieutenant Sanderson over there and that General Order from General Harris my commanding officer I’d call the ambulance and have these women moved to a proper hospital, order or no order Miss Who-Ever-You-Are. Just come barging in here taking over my surgery endangering these women’s lives.” Doc raved.

“Look Major in a little while Max will be here with the rest of our unit and he’ll explain everything, but for right now trust me when I tell you that it’s vitally important that nobody but us even think that these women are alive. I don’t want to sound melodramatic, but if the people that lost them discovered they were here they could quite possibly nuke this base. They did it the last time we ran into them.” Morgan confided in her.

“Okay, but he better have some answers,” Doc stated positively.

“Oh he will Doc, he will, I hope.” Morgan whispered under her breath.

Max didn’t have a lot of answers, but he did have me. In short order, we inducted Doc and Nancy Nurse into our ranks. None of the girls were exactly happy at the added members but agreed it was necessary. They were even more unhappy when they found out that I was going to try to fix whatever was done to these girls by inducting them too. If I was successful that would mean eleven more added to the Harem. Hopefully, these would be the last for a while.

It wound up that Doc was a workaholic, married to her job without any love life, now she had one. Nurse Nancy was happily married and stayed that way, I just added to her pleasure. As for the other girls we were about to find out.

“So Fred how does it look in there,” Max asked 24 hours later.

«They’ve used some kind of device to poke around in their heads. They went in just above the brain stem under the cap and then branched off to other parts of the brain. I don’t think they missed any major part. They also surgically inserted some rather large integrated circuits that are burnt out now. I can guess what they did, but they can’t be recovered or removed without causing major trauma. There was also a kill switch but luckily it was burnt out too.» Fred summed it up for everybody.

“Well, Mr. Miracle can you fix them?” Questioned Doc.

“If that kill switch had been activated I probably couldn’t, but as it is I have regrown the tissue that was burnt out by the EMP...” Doc broke in.

“Brain tissue, EMP, regrown brain cells, kill switches, what are you guys?” Doc asked. All of this was finally dawning on her.

“We are the new improved version of man! Haven’t you guessed Doc.” Nurse Nancy laughed.

“Okay assuming you can regrow all that different tissue in there, it’s just that new tissue. If it was a memory it’s gone, if it controlled the hand it’s forgotten how, I can go on and on. All that is just gone. It’ll be like they had a massive stroke.” Doc seemed to want to accuse us of something.

“Your right Doc, but they’re alive and I hope they’re free of whatever was done to them, but that’s also why we’re in a “Clean Room” now. This is too be sure they see it that way, and don’t send a signal that could get us all killed or worse.” Morgan put in.

“Right now I’m controlling their RAS and keeping them knocked out. How do you want to handle this Max?” Fred asked.

“Wake up one of the 10 first,” Morgan answered first.

“Why,” Max questioned.

“Let’s assume the 10 are in a kind of default state awaiting programming. They’ve only just been implanted and are awaiting further programming. The pilot, on the other hand, will already have that programming and be more resistant. So let’s try one of them first.” Morgan reasoned.

«I agree with your logic Morgan.» Fred spoke up.

“Okay do it.” Max agreed.

And so Snow White was awakened from her troubled sleep by a kiss from Prince Charming. Well there wasn’t really a kiss and her real name was, well had been, Sharon White. As all true Fairy Tales go though, the teller of the tale, ME in this tale, has great latitude and the absolute right to stretch the truth for later generations of readers. So in this case, her name was White, S. White to be exact, and Prince Charming was present when she was awakened.

“Where am I Master.” Were the first words out of Snow White’s mouth as she opened her pretty blue eyes and oriented herself like a heat seeking missile on Max. Obvious the only male in the room.

“I once had an Irish Setter that did that trick, Max. Do you think she’s an Irish colleen?” Morgan evilly laughed, to Max’s cold discomfort.

“Morgan you’re incorrigible.” Nina frowned at Morgan.

“But so much fun at orgies and other social occasions, ha, ha.” She laughed back.

“Okay, Max she’s all yours.” Nina had to say at last.

“What do you remember?” Max started.

“That isn’t any way to start an interrogation, Max.” Morgan interrupted.

“Well, you do it.” Max snapped at Morgan.

“Don’t confuse her, start small ask her her name, where she’s from, how old she is, ask if she knows where she is, what happened to her. Little pieces Max,” Morgan coached.

“What’s your name?” He asked.

“I don’t know, you haven’t given me one Master,” SW answered flatly.

“Where are you from.” He asked.

“Right here, Master,” SW responded.

“Okay, okay I stand corrected. Ask what her designation is.” Morgan told him.

“What’s your designation.” He asked hopefully.

“I am pleasure unite 333 Master. I will be that until you decide to repurpose me or sell me, Master. How may this humble unit service you Master?” Max had never seen such devotion in two eyes, and he’d never had such a large noticeable erection in his suddenly tight pants before.

“Just like that Irish Setter I owned, she’s in heat Max, can’t you smell her? I certainly can, and other things.” Morgan observed, looking pointedly down at his crotch. By this time Nina and all the other girls were bristling and sharpening their claws like cats marking their territory. I for one didn’t want to see Nina’s sharp claws come out.

“Before this goes any further can you put her back to sleep Fred.” Max more or less pleaded with me.

“But she’s just warming up to you Max,” Morgan smirked.

“Morgan this is not funny,” Nina responded.

“Nina, I can laugh or I can cry. I choose to laugh. There is nothing we can do to change the facts. She is producing pheromones ladies, and I use the word Lady loosely here. It’s the Age of Lilith all over again, the age where human females, like the females of all the mammalian species, experienced estrus, periodically going into heat. Yes, ladies she’s in heat. Their hormones are demanding that they mate with men, and their pheromones insured that men will want to mate with them.” Morgan paused for a moment in her explanation to look around.

“Little Miss Snow White there is just doing what she is programmed to do. The other 9 will be just like her I bet. I don’t know about the pilot. For all I know that space suit was to keep her from smelling the other girls and trying to kill them just like you all want to do right now to poor little Snow White. You REALLY, REALLY WANT TO KILL HER, DON’T YOU NINA. You can’t fight Mother Nature Nina you can only live with it, ha, ha.” Morgan laughed when she really wanted to cry. Morgan just stated the obvious when you backed off and looked at the situation objectivity.

“Okay, okay I’ve got it under control. Now what?” Nina wanted to know.

“We wake up the Wicked Witch of the West over there and question her, but before we do I need to talk to Doc and Fred. Fred is there any way you can turn off the pheromones.”

«Not right away I don’t know anything about them or how she’s producing them. Give me a week and I can come up with something that doesn’t damage them, but not right now.» Fred hedged his bet.

“Same with you Doc?, “If you can’t raise the bridge lower the river.” Can we deaden our smellers?” Morgan asked.

“Well, it’s a rather simple operation to sever the olfactory nerve. I have my nurse and kit and could do the operation here. That would be permanent...” Doc was saying.

“Not on me your not! I liked the smell.” Max stated his objections.

“Yes, you liked it a little too much.” The other girls grumbled out loud.

“I propose a compromise I have a spray, developed for Hay Fever and Allergies that is supposed to last for hours. I’ve got plenty of it and I’ll give everybody a bottle. How’s that.” Doc asked.

“I think I can live with that.” Max agreed.

“Agreed.” The girls grumbled back shortly.

So after a short recess where Nancy could pass out the spray we woke up the pilot. True to Morgan’s prediction she was indeed the Dark Witch.

“You are not my Master. Must kill not Master. Must kill. Must kill you all. You have no right to be here. Where is here? Why am I talking to you? Why have I not terminated myself? Must escape. Must find Master. No longer remember who Master is. What the Master looks like. What Master smells like. What Master tastes like. Must find Master...” She kept looping until Fred mercifully put her back to sleep.

“That was a waste of time.” Nina snorted.

“No that’s an opportunity. All Max has to do is seduce her. Convince her that he’s her Master.” Morgan started...before Fred broke in.

«I have discovered there is a process to be followed to reset and restart her Max.» Fred told Max and the other girls.

“And what is that Fred?” Max innocently asked.

«Take her in every hole and get a blow job.»” Fred stated mater of factly.

“All that with a psycho chick that could wake up at any moment and decide to deball and castrate me. No thank you, that’s going above and beyond the line of duty ladies.” Max stated his objections.

«But Max I’ll be there to stop her if she starts to do that.» Fred objected.

“Look, folks. When I was a kid I ran a trot line for a while on the river. Every now and then I’d catch one of these big old 40 or 50-pound Loggerhead Alligator Snapping Turtles. At that time nobody was into save the turtle shit. They robbed our line and we shot them if they came back. Well, I was a kid and this monster comes right over the side of my flat bottom john boat and took possession of the back of my boat with the motor. I lost a perfectly good paddle to that monster. Chomp and the end of my paddle disappeared between those jaws. When one of those monsters latches on he doesn’t let go. A human is the same way. I don’t want to be no “Bobbit”, walking into the ER with his dick in his hands. They never did sew it back on right. And before you say anything else, think of this, a Pit Bull can exert the average of 235 PSI, a human 200 to 260 PSI. No, sir, my Johnson ain’t getting nowhere around that snapping turtle. No Sir.” Max finished and walked away.

«Look Max if worse came to worse I could grow you another one, you know I’ve already played around with it. This has to be done.» Fred privately wheedled Max.

«Do you think Novocain could be used Fred.» Max finally asked Fred.

«I’m sure Doc has something in her bag that will work Max.» Fred assured Max.

«None of the girls better cheer, “Take One For The Team”, or “Bite It Again, Bite It Again, Harder, Harder”. This is not funny.» Max complained.

«You know they respect you Max.» Fred told him seriously.

So, in the end, Max agreed to woo the pilot in a private room with me both figuratively and literally holding his hand, and that other hangee down part. It was also agreed that Doc would be watching on CCTV and standing by.

I was somewhat surprised that Max was having these performance problems, they had never affected him this way before. Maybe we were all looking at it in the wrong way. Maybe it has something to do with the pheromones all these new girls are producing in such abundance. Maybe when these new women went into heat she becomes the dominant one, the aggressor. Maybe she rounds up all the males she can see and chooses the fittest to mate with her, fighting off the other women as rivals. Maybe they weaken the will of the male, making him the weak one now. That theory, and that’s all it is now, would explain Max’s sudden change in behavior. Maybe the nose spray wasn’t helping at all.