The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The Gaia Global Network President’s teenage daughter has escaped. And we are commencing what will be a short hunt through a huge metallic labyrinth to find her. Our subspecies, the Ohm, evolved from humans, hard as that is to believe sometimes given the difference in consciousness, even though the basic physiobiology hasn’t altered a whole lot in the course of a century of accelerated evolving. The Ohm evolve by their own will, a complicated process that we have dedicated almost entirely to the task of changing the mind and not the body. We are a tall, thin and markedly androgynous race in the eyes of the simply human, the androgynous effect arising from those minor physical differences that did accrue as a result of our mastery of the power of rogue DNA mutation. The Ohm favour a youthful look, thus our males don’t grow mustaches or beards; nor do they, as a rule, crop the hair on their heads short. Though we appear gaunt and wraithlike, our strength is not to be underestimated. It takes very little actual muscle tissue to create physical force if it is calibrated properly with the mind’s intricate reservoirs of power—and that calibration, as well as the power itself, has been the focus of the Ohm evolutionary revolution.

It was decided in a high-level conference that we should make a jaunt back to Mother Earth. It was a century ago when the Ohm left Earth, after a series of losing skirmishes with various manifestations of the world’s nationally-based police contingencies known collectively as “the military”. We weren’t strong enough then. But it’s been a century that has seen the Ohm develop in all directions at a rate and degreethat it would have taken regular humans five centuries to attain. Now, we wanted to see what the deal was with the world...see if humanity had gotten any kind of collective clue yet. It was decided unanimously that if things still looked as shitty as they did when the first Ohm colonists set up shop in our hollow asteroids and declared sovereignty, then we’d have some fun, and improve the condition of the world at large at the same time. We’d stage a nice little coup and do what we now, thanks to one hundred years of bold advances in neurodynamics, CAN do...what we’ve WANTED, no...ACHED to do for that whole damned century. Take over.

The daughter of Earth’s “benevolent dictator” is the key to the whole operation. We managed to lure her out of the Gaia Global Network Mansion, and then capture her unseen by anyone. She was sedated and harmlessly silenced so that she would not be aware that she was headed for the headquarters of the Ohm. It was eight hours before anyone knew she was gone. Eight hours! So busy trying to keep the fucking planet from falling apart that they lose track of such a beautiful girl as this. They’re going to get everything that they deserve, from us. The Ohmaegan Army will give them a lot more than they deserve, in the long run.

Now she’s apparently not where she is supposed to be inside our HQ, either, in the sector of the Ohmaega Complex specifically designated for the particular purpose of keeping people where we’d like them to stay. She seems to be in a habit of getting herself lost track of. But we’ll have her in minutes. She represents the first strike in what will be a bloodless, deathless war, and that’s pretty high priority. Besides that, I want to schlang her. To schlang means to fuck in a slow, soft and vicious manner. Most humans are completely incapable of understanding such a contradiction as that. It’s such a pity. More and more, I feel it’s time to make them understand. I have a proven ability to induce this understanding, even in a mind and body that are wedged tightly shut and fighting me every step of the way. And not only can I make them know these things—but I can also see to it that they end up begging to know—and feel—even more.

I stride purposefully down the silver-walled corridor and wonder how the hell she managed to get out of Sector 5, where anyone who’s a captive of Omaega Complex belongs. Security is so effective throughout the Complex, a bacterium couldn’t go undetected by the sensors. She simply can’t be left alone, it seems. So Dietrich put out an APB for her. Ohmaega Complex is a space-station that doubles as an underground labyrinth, a labyrinth that would confuse the Minotaur. Were about a hundred yards under the ground. Dietrich and I are the only two rats who really know our way around this experiment. Food at the end of the maze for the smartest rat...We abducted her two days ago. A coup and a coup de grace. It was almost too easy—people on this planet just aren’t very alert or able to conceive of things beyond what they’re used to.

When taking over nations or planets, one should note that the disappearance of the daughters of great heads of state makes big news. Ohmaega Complex represents an empire of sovereign individuals; we are just adding one more little snatch of territory to our already vast reserves. Why are we bothering with politico-terrorist horseplay? Strictly for the hell of it. Why else? Power feels good, when you’ve got it, anyway, and we do. Let’s just dispense with the morality plays, political polemic, and complicated reasons which are just excuses. All that phony self-righteous crap. People have always done what we’re doing for one pretentious reason or another, never admitting that it just feels good to be on top of things. Where it really counts to feel good, if you know what I mean...and I know you do, whether you would admit it or not.

She’s a ditzy sort of girl, really well-built and cute-faced...though it is exactly the kind of “cute” that you want to fuck the tiny brains out of in order to annihilate that “cute”, to feel the ravaging of that soft body and attendant soft mind...mess with it and change it, force your own self into it and tear that sweet little debutante bullshit to pieces with your own inherent superiority. She is eighteen, and has been fed on a steady diet of Southern California airhead vehicular-video culture, for L.A. is where the current President of the Gaia Global Network hails from. How the hell did she get out of Sector 5? I practically get scanned to death in that area and I run the damn place.

Well, technically Kommandante Dietrich is co-coordinating this particular logistical matter of this mission, but lately he’s been pissing me off big time. Sometimes he can be so clueless. He does things his way—period—disagreement forbidden. That is a quality I normally admire in people, but only when they really do know what they’re doing, and he doesn’t. He’s so impulse-driven; he doesn’t process information pertaining to consequences, i.e think. Bet he even diddled around with the Sector 5 motherboard and that’s why she’s loose. If I find out that wingnut had anything to do with this glitch, his ass is in serious danger of being kicked from here to eternity plus one day—and I have steel-toed boots.

I come to a big meta-steel door, banded in yellow/black stripes, with the letters TOP-COMMAND CLEARANCE REQUIRED. TOP COMMAND means me and that gimp Dietrich and CLEARANCE is this little doohickey on my bodysuit, a tiny metal triangle with a line through it containing an obscure machine-language code. I flash it at a beam and the door slides open to welcome me...I pass through and it rudely slams behind me, cutting off access to the others whom we oversee. The little doohickey also shuts off the KillBeams. Theyre strategically placed every four feet or so and totally invisible, but pass through one of them without this doohickey and you’re effectively microwaved.

I pick up speed striding in the direction of Sector 5 , which is coiled in the center of Ohmaega Complex like the head of a deadly snake. Different priorities are whizzing through my mind; I’m tense, I ache, I’m drugged on pure pheromonal surges.

I know where she is, where she’s supposed to be anyway. I try to figure out what I’d do if I were her. Run around like a chicken without a head looking for a map, of which there are none, and then start walking around in circles until she hits a KillBeam and becomes a TV dinner. Personally I hope she hasn’t done that. It wouldn’t be very nice...and besides, I want to do something to that girl that she’ll never forget! Just thinking about the intense, insane potential of the whole thing—potential for an Ohm victory, as well as victory for my boner, which I can feel gathering its forces up from throughout my body, making it stiffen and take shape—sends me into a dizzy attack. But its not all about wanting to fuck. I could do that with one of our own Ohm girls, any one of whom would be thrilled to the point of swooning to have me just finger their little pussies for a minute or two. Or sometimes I can have an orgasm without needing to touch myself, or have anyone else touch me, either. I can make my dick a slave of my mind. But what I’m getting all hot and bothered about right now isnt really even the sex. It is really about control. Control makes me hard, even in totally nonsexual contexts.

I hear a muffled, delicate voice. And another gruffer lower one telling the first one to shut the fuck up. The second voice, I know all too well, is Dietrich. He’s got her. Over to the left. I don’t like this. I don’t like Dietrich. I’m liking him less and less the faster I walk, turning to a slow run, then a jog. Dipping under a low-slung I-beam placed in the hall specifically to slow down a running person (damn, even WE have to put up with those) and then turning left, I see Dietrich pinning her up against the grey velour-and-metal corridor wall. He’s leering. Of course he’s going to do her. She’s screaming her head off now and screams are bouncing off the mazewalls in multi-echoes.

This sucks. This girl is valuable. I wanted her for other purposes. Among other things, she’s our bait for the media. If we fuck with her we’re fucking with the entire reason we had our assassins go through all the trouble of snagging her. Well...she IS quite nice to look at. She is thin but not starved-looking, with a triangular chin and big eyes that look up at you with this expression of wonder. Her hair is dark and soft and falls in loose waves. And she’s struggling against Dietrich, the stupid maniac who has grabbed both her wrists and is holding her to the wall. I look a little closer and I see he’s got a taser in his left hand and he keeps putting it between her legs and hitting the switch. Every time he does this she shrieks like a rat and jumps, frozen for a second. He’s laughing his head off. I can’t take this anymore. He still doesn’t see me yet so I use that to my advantage. I jump, a great long distance leap, my eyes riveted to the taser. I don’t quite manage to knock it from his hand, but I do manage to get it away from her. She gasps. Dietrich howls. “What the —”

“Ggggggggrrrrrrrrrrrraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhh!” I make an animal-ninja sound in his ears We’re on the floor, twisting around. I have to keep one hand on the fucking taser and one on him to keep him down. I’m smaller than he is so this isn’t easy. He’s strong, too. Manages to wrench the taser hand away and give me a damn good jolt with it. Everything goes white and stings and my nerves sting with pain beyond pain.

Then white starts greying, greys connect and focus oozes back into place. “What the FUCK is YOUR problem!” he explodes, getting on his feet again. Moving towards the girl. I notice she hasn’t managed to take a single step away so all this is going down in a matter of seconds. Dietrich, with that smirky look on his face that attests to being In Control of the Situation... the look I’d kind of like to be the one having right now. I watch him click a switch on the gun that turns its function from from “taser” to “laser”. Sticks it to the girl’s head. Then aims it at me, then back on her again. Stupid fuck can’t make up his mind. She’s panting but otherwise too frightened to move.

“Go ahead, shoot me, you moronic dolt! I’d just love to see you TRY to pull Ohmaega off without me. I know a few thousand series of codes that are rather necessary to the survival of this entire complex. And the experiment, too. What you know about the Ohmaega Project you could write on your pinky fingernail!” The shivering and quite frightened girl is looking at me now. I guess she thinks I’m some kind of hero. I also note distinct confusion in her eyes, being that I’ve got the same black Kommandante’s uniform on as Dietrich does. She’s trying to add it all up and it doesn’t compute. I turn from her and glare at him. He’s confused too.

This is the sort of thing I’m well trained in noticing, for I can see when to take advantage of it...I suddenly strike like a viper—like lightning—throwing out my right foot and it becomes a projectile-kick, landing right in the sensitive area far below the navel. I hear the taser clatter, and a sound like a coyote...a coyote having a spazz.

“Dietrich...you were about to rape this girl. Right?” Sex is probably the last thing on his mind now. Dietrich’s mind is as scrambled as his nuts.

“Well....angggg....gimme a break! What would YOU do, Xanaste? What the fuck did we take her for? We went to a lot of trouble to pull this off. And we control Ohmaega. We do what we want.”

“Correction.” I get up and let him lie there and recover from the shock and pain. ”I control Ohmaega now. And I do what I want. You, you cretin, have not the foggiest idea of what we are doing, WHY we are doing it, and most of all, how it is to be DONE. What would we get from sexually abusing this woman? A nice piece of unnecessary bad press! Then a hefty retaliation. NOT TO MENTION THE FACT THAT RAPE IS A SHITTY POWER TRIP! You’re using force versus the will, you are opposing by direct confrontation involving the threat to an individual’s physical survival. Although it is possible to control an individual in this manner, it will in the end defeat the controlling agent in a variety of ways. It severely limits and reduces the capacity and potential for making use of the power of your captive.

“It immediately places the captor in a position of distrust. Your captive will then cease to volunteer anything on her own initiative. The entire Ohmaega Project is directly at odds with this primitive Earthstyled, old-millennium methodology. THEREFORE, I’M NOT ALLOWING IT. You are so regressive, Dietrich, that it is my educated opinion that you might not even be Ohmaega material. I know THAT for SURE now. If you haven’t figured it out, this is mutiny, of a sort. The last straw. You fucked up too many times.” I say this without letting the pitch of my voice change. With no emotion, no gloating over victory. Not on the outside, anyway.

Now this girl, all the while, she’s been watching us grapple. As I face off with Dietrich, who now has no weapon and isn’t in much of a position to argue with any of my brilliant logic as regards the control process, she starts to tiptoe away, actually thinking I don’t notice her. I make a mental note of what sector she’s headed for and let her walk away. If this was any other situation, now is a time I could have some real fun baiting Dietrich and driving a few psychological nails into him...he needs them. He’s pouting. Poor little atavistic brat. “She’s GETTING AWAY, you ... you fuckhead!” Dietrich shouts. I pretend to pay no attention.

“Dietrich” I say with mock politeness, “please get up and walk this way with me. We’re going to put you where you’ll be comfortable and out of the way for a while. Then maybe we’ll discuss what kind of a second lieutenant you’ll make. Provided,” I say, unable to contain a smirk, “that you’re a good boy.”

His face is red with rage and humiliation. Had he bothered to conceal secret weapons, or memorize some sector security back-door codes, he could have pulled some act of subterfuge and waylaid me. But this is Dietrich. He took his power for granted. Not a good idea; it doesn’t work that way.

I take him at laserpoint to his quarters. Open a panel in the sector 2 wall, punch some code, so that KillBeams jump into action around the perimeter of the two rooms. He can stay there for a while and think about what a stupid fuck he’s been.

The girl took one of the paths in the tangle of corridors in Upper Echelon that actually spirals down; it winds tighter and tighter until you’re right smack dab into a dead end. A room with a ventilation pump in it, but no ducts or anything big enough for her to escape through. This is, after all, not a damn movie. The bad guys don’t lose all the time, you know. Even though I’m not really a good guy or a bad guy. Just something else. I don’t get off on hurting people...not even stupid, fucked-up humans. But the reasons I don’t get off on hurting people have less to do with compassion for them than they have to do with other things, things related to very selfish precepts on my own part. It simply serves my purpose not to be violent. If it did serve my purpose to be violent, I likely would be. But I’ll bet she actually thinks I let her go. That’s a gas.

When I get to the tiny little room at the center of the spiraling hallway, she will look at me, at first feeling betrayed, then terrified...then, she will feel something else. I will turn on, by sheer desire to do so, the neo-psychochemistries that will melt her fear and gently yet forcefully change it to desire. I’m going to take her—hell yes—but she’s going to want it.

We are near the Cylinder’s center—the bustling, energy-bristling heart of Ohmaega.I begin to hear the thrumming of the monstrous master CPU—the great-great-great-x10 grandmotherboard—and all the mechanicals at the core of the entire outfit. The noise gets louder and louder. I can still hear her footsteps though. She has no idea how far within Ohmaega she is, and how far under the ground the cylinder is buried. In other words, she’s not going anywhere. And I’m taking my time capturing her again, tasting the thoughts of what her body will feel like under mine, naked and helpless as I bare myself to her and feel her facing the power within me...it’s like her eyes on me feel like they’re actually touching my skin...and there is a shape, like the most common of glyphic symbols—the universal arrow, which points in one direction...the girl will turn her fear inside out and then the vacuum that causes will suck me in. Along the line of that universal arrow. I hear her breathing now; my hearing is so adept I can practically hear her heart beating. Very fast. She is just beginning to sense my presence, getting that little feeling one gets when feeling as though watched...I step up behind her just as she reaches the dead end. Ease up and wrap my arms around her chest, crossing them, hands folded in slack fists. Creating a firm solid constriction, tight and unrelenting... yet taking care to avoid hurting her. “Aaaaaaaaaiiiii!” she shrieks weakly.

At first she’ll think I’m no better than Dietrich...but...hah!...Not for long. Funny how these things work. I breathe slowly, exhaling through my nostrils into her shiny hair, inhale the scent of it into my system. She breathes in the Ohm ultra-high-intensity bioelectric pheromone—it’s called Slasm—and it starts to happen.

The tense shoulders relax. She arches her back against my chest, her hair falling into my arms, and I reach back and slip a hand under her white, vaguely glittery sleeveless dress. This simple thing’s only slightly more fashionable than a hospital gown—it’s made out of a sort of silver fiber-optic netting with little fringelets at its bottom. As my control of her body’s reactions becomes complete, her nipples become firm, sticking up through her dress, like little points on swelling flesh waves. Her mouth is wet and pouting now. She licks my finger, and then closes her lips around it as if to suck it. Mmmmm...What could she be thinking about doing? Or not thinking at all, and just doing? It is happening, all right. I am Xanaste, the Implaceable! You could cut it with a knife, the raging tension as her desire level begins its drive to catch up with mine.I’m trying to keep a steady balance between the thinking coming from my brain, and the thinking that my glorious prong is racing straight into. It’s not as if there is any disagreement of ultimate intent here—in fact, I’d say the purpose is rather unanimous. Every bit of me wants every bit of her. Wants to control every bit of her.

“Do you know power?” I ask sweetly. She stares right into my eyes. Her eyes are glazed. I fix my own stare on her and she knows that there is absolutely no turning back now. A wan and wanton smile slowly oozes across my face and for a narcissistic moment I see myself as she must see me—the hooded, flamey-locked agent of her fate, wrapped in tight slick blackness and wearing a robot’s expression of alienness and nonchalant control. I toss my head to the side, flip all the long hair off to one side. Then just glare at her sideways. She can only wonder when I will lash out like a snake and intrude upon her sweetest parts. I belong there. It is the seat of all leaders, in a sense.

“You know what happens next. I don’t have to spell it out for you. Close your eyes. And just think of what it is going to feel like when I come to be inside of you...inside of your body, in that crazy and frustrating and private little place, the place that you’d never dream of letting me even get close to...and what it will feel like when I just start doing the things that power does when it manages to worm its way into anything. Like bringing unexpected chaos. Like surging forward and never looking back. Like turning everything upside down and overcoming any obstacle. Like taking you over completely for the next fifteen minutes, and probably longer.” She turns around and I drill my eyes into hers. With this act—no mercy. Ever. In the light of deepest Ohmaega, tiny flashings of electronic gears, she doesn’t look as ditzy anymore...she looks like a mischievous cherub...she looks...curious, to me. Wondering. Slightly bewildered, but the shock has died down. She goes limp in my arms; her will has broken completely. She cannot think of anything but what I am going to put to her. I am in a very similar state of mind. My cock is pushing so hard against the Velcro snap of my suit that one of the buttonheads undoes itself.

I pull her soft body down to the floor gripping it tightly and bending her over. I am positioned on top of her within seconds. And then she is on the floor and tossing her head back. I make the motion of kissing her without quite doing it yet, just slightly tracing the perimeter of her lips with the tip of my tongue. I open my eyes wide; the manic glee comes exploding from them as if it were light or heat. I spastically dart my tongue into her mouth—it tastes so sweet and young and healthy—a clean shock of bioelectric cellular yielding. She moans, a stuttery staccato shuddering sound mixed with little squeals and whines which rise and fall in tandem with the motions of my hands on her body. “Now you really have no choice. Either you lose control...or you don’t lose control, in which case I will just come in and take it from you.” I bend her over my knee and move my right hand up under her, exploring the private place so slowly that it is agonizing to her... I’m sliding up between her thighs...the jumpsuit I’m wearing, with a flick of a catch, seems to unzip all by itself while I’m methodically running my adept hand up and down her, sadistically slowly and precisely. She’s overwhelmed by something she has no hope of controlling, and it is coming from within her own body, instead of forcing against her. Who could call this rape? Yet I’ve got her, 100 percent. It is an act of force, but nobody’s complaining this way.

Now the girl, the face seen on a zillion monitor screens, is bent over my knee, my swelling outward flesh-arrow in her face, pointing at her... and I’m going to give it to her and she’ll never, ever forget it. I’m going to take her to the Zone. This place, Ohmaega Complex, is amazing. It never seems to end. There’s so many corridors and alcoves and anterooms—like ganglia and amoebas all wrapped around one another. The thing has to have a brain, and that’s the Zone. I stop what I’m doing, stand up, she’s on the floor, at my feel, squirming around in sudden wonder as she realizes I’ve taken away my probing fingers. She looks up at me, pleading with her eyes. I just stand there for a minute. Arms akimbo, leaning on one leg. holding my erection—poking from the flap in my black suit—just out of her reach. Slitting my eyes half closed and pouting exaggeratedly. This kind of cruelty can be fun. It tends to prolong things, in a number of senses.

Then, after I suck the power out of the moment with my ceaseless mental vortex, I silently reach down, pick her up and carry her. Without saying a word (she’s whimpering unintelligibly) I carry her to my very own Zone. Sector Zero. It is virtually at the center of the center of Ohmaega; it needs the voltage of the central machinery to do what can be done in there.

Inside the Zone there is a slab of strange, silver, stiff—and yet soft-textured—metal. It is like nothing found on the planet Earth. It is particularly sensitive to sounds—it actually heats up when certain frequencies are vibrated into it. But that is only part of the experiment. There’s some electrodes at the foot of the slab and some more at the head. Their cords snake into a panel, upon which some switches are switched and some keys punched. I am setting parameters for sonic, subsonic, tactile, biovoltage, other things that only our people know about, that can’t adequately be described...those will be the big surprises. Jutting out of the side of the slab is a metal ring connected to more wires. This goes on my organ, so ready and pulsing and aching. It wants to literally launch from its blonde nest and fire into its target ahead of the rest of me; it feels as if it takes every bit of strength for a second to hold it back.

I push her down on the slab. By now she not only tolerates but enjoys some force. I’m not too gentle now. I shove the electrodes onto the places most appropriate. She is lost in lust. I could easily be trying to kill her and she wouldn’t even know or care. Oh, but of course I am not. Control of the dead is not stimulating. My sweet young live thing moves. She’s seen nothing yet. I make a little sound, a sort of petulant laugh, as I climb up and straddle her naked body and its wet little slash between the legs, the lights of the Zone dim and the slab glows a greenish-white glow. This glow, a product of alien phosphorescent lava, accentuates every full, smooth curve of her body. And makes my upstart prong look twice its size, which it already feels like anyway. Mind over matter, so to speak.

The first flash from the console hits her even before I do. I tilt my head down, letting my bold flash of golden-coloured hair fall in a sweep across her tits, never taking my eyes from hers. It’s like I reach in and grab her eyes with mine and squeeze. And my face goes flat.

I am going to—ah—wait just a few....mmmm—just a few more seconds. God, it’s so hard... So so very very hard. But the reward...if you can resist the pull of the hole, the pull of touching deeply that which recognises your magnitude, your greatness...to feel it before it happens, like...like a proto-echo! SO...difficult....but...oh, hell—!

I twist my thighs around in a circle once and cut loose the spring. Fall and sink, pulled into her empty space by my own force...riding my own power. You can’t always do something so vicious upon initial invasion but she is perfectly slickened from my drawn-out seduction. She yelps and contorts as I find my way to the center of her. I occupy that space with her.

“This is power. Now know power. Know it. And then give it up...to me, to me. So that I can use it on you...on you...again, and again. So that I can destroy you, and disperse you, so that I can recreate you in my own image and make you live again. So that I can increase myself, increase my influence. So that I may take over. So that my forces and I may take your world into our hands. slowly and sweetly, and deceptively soft. Exactly as I take you now.” Exactly as her world will take me, so easily seduced. I am the nullifier of all suspicion, the deactivator of the last layer of paranoia.

Further elucidation unneccessary, to either her or myself, I turn the active principle over to the rhythm, the movements. They start to control me as well as her. I let them carry the bliss of power to its inexorable destinations.

Somewhere in my head, a stray thought flashes: I could be destroying her. Shes completely unaccustomed to this insanely high degree of electromagnetics.

But I am draining out into her...if her life is ending, mine is also going with it.

I don’t care.....we are I.

I took her up to the upper reaches of the Ohmaega Complex about an hour later. I gave her something to calm her down. It’s working. She is radiant yet cool to the touch, and she smiles like a little child who just found hidden treasure. Up to the hollow, echoey spiral metal stairs. Then the elevator to the top. And a rock slides out of the way and she sees the blue sky she may have thought gone forever to her. I clasp her hand tight. Wink. Let her go like setting free a pet creature, and she runs gracefully through the grass waving in the wind.

This is such a nice world, this place where our ancestors emigrated from. It will be pleasant to devote my time to ruling it. A lot of cluelessness, idiocy, poverty, stupidity—a lot of brutish dysevolution will have to be dealt with. The girl who gallops through the grasses is our first seed. There will be more. But she is one of the most important. For the Ohm race has a wondrous gift. The sperm that swims within her is replicating right this very moment, fusing with her own DNA, not seeking simply an egg cell to impregnate, but a whole being of billions of cells. In a few hours she’ll receive subconscious commands from me. She will do what I want her to do. When I fucked her, it was as if I wired her. She’ll be our agent at the top levels of this planet’s government. She’ll make the invasion easy for us and not even be aware of it.

Within a week I and some of the higher-ups of Ohmaega will have had many women. Men, too. They, in turn, will pass “it” to other partners. I shut the sliding rock and step back into the elevator.

Only the terminally stupid will die in the war for dominion of Earth. The smart will just surrender. It’s not only painless...it will be ecstasy. I videoed the whole thing from the ceiling. I think I’ll pipe it into the monitor in Dietrich’s comfortable prison. I have the sick desire to show him what he misses in his ignorance.