The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

There were six of them, keeping low, crawling in the tall grass along a shallow cut in the landscape of the open plain, approaching the ancient stone walls of the installation. All of them had unvoiced thoughts about the seeming utter lack of security, but they kept going—the mission had been deemed that important, and they hadn’t really been offered a choice as to their participation.

“We’re certain that the security is minimal, sir?” Arbuthnot—or Booth, as she was called—asked again, frustrated at the blank assurances she’d been given since volunteering for the mission. Sometimes, it wasn’t just what they weren’t saying, but how they went about not saying it, that was most worrisome.

“If you follow the plan and timetable, your team will encounter no trouble accessing the facility, Lieutenant,” the Colonel said.

They paused, gathering at the base of the wall, around a corner from the main gate, which was wide-open and appeared unguarded. This spot, near where the natural irregularity they’d been using as cover approached the wall, was also known to be the farthest part of the wall from the structure within.

Quickly they stood, two forming a base and one climbing up, pulling herself onto the wall and pausing before reaching down to help the rest of the party over. The process took less than thirty seconds. Then they were over, gathered on a group behind a flatbed trailer which was parked near the wall. They peered out between the wheels to see their objective a short distance away. It was a low structure, mostly an entrance and ventilation, for the much larger facility which was underground. For centuries, the concrete structure had been used for grain storage, and to the casual observer it was meant to appear as just that.

“Your team will enter the facility, Lieutenant,” Colonel Kannakis continued his briefing. “There will be little or no resistance going in. Where our teams have encountered difficulty is once they’re inside. Captain Valli?” The Colonel stepped aside and the Captain, who had so far been silent, began speaking.

“You’ll need to move quickly, Lieutenant. Their defenses can be breached temporarily, but only temporarily. Your mission is our last opportunity, and it is imperative that you keep pressing forward and don’t stop for anyone or anything. If even just one of your team reaches the objective, then the mission can be deemed successful.

The compound, it turned out, was not as unguarded as it had appeared from outside. There was a patrol of two marching stiffly along the top of the wall, approaching the spot where minutes before, the team had entered. The women wore the suits the team had expected, a glossy bodysuit in seamless black, but there seemed something different around their necks, a different-appearing collar than that which they’d seen before, and mock-ups of which they carried with them. Two more of the women passed their position on the ground, dressed identically to the ones above, their hair, knotted in uniform braided pony-tails of various colors, was among the few clues indicating that the drone-women were human and not automatons.

A cloaking system, Booth thought, it was the only way they wouldn’t have seen the patrols from the outside. She flashed a hand signal to her second in command, Silva, (call-sign: Sling), who responded with a hand signal that was more obscene than relevant.

The team moved toward the structure, keeping low, stopping at a grating which covered an opening to the vent system, a grating which was cut loose within seconds with all six of the team disappearing within, leaving the compound quiet once more.

“The materials you’ll need, Lieutenant, will be in this location,” the Captain pointed to a room in the diagram. “We were unable, in the time available, to replicate certain items of the tech you’ll need in order to gain full access.”

“You do know how it all works, though, so we won’t just end up captured and reprogrammed ourselves, right?”

“Their technology has been studied at all levels, Lieutenant,” the Colonel interceded.

“What does that mean, Colonel?” Booth asked, nearly forgetting herself.

“It means, Lieutenant, that you will lead your team where you’re ordered and complete your mission as ordered. Any questions?”

Booth looked from the Captain to the Colonel, and then at her hands on the table in front of her.

The chamber was exactly where the diagrams had said it would be. Members of the Collective, as it was called, began their new existence here. They were stripped and outfitted in their uniforms before entering the complex for further processing.

“These new collars are nothing like the ones we brought, boss,” Silva said, holding up the two versions of the device.

“We’ll need to make due, Sergeant,” Booth answered. “See if you can render some new ones inoperative for us while we change.”

“Sure, Lieutenant, as soon as I read the owners manual and find out what the thing does in the fist place.” Silva flashed a wry smile.

“Never make General smart-assing like that, Sergeant,” Booth shot back.

The five remaining team members—Booth, Ornella, Elean, Mhari and Camara—began to pull off their uniforms. They were standard Raider gear: a bodysuit of adaptive camouflage with various equipment held in pockets and pouches, ready for use. The Collective uniforms were far more simple, consisting of a bodysuit in a material they couldn’t identify. It was lighter than latex or leather, but not a weave. It was seamless, except for the opening up the back, which lacked any apparent means of fastening it. After that there were the boots, collars, and the implants which attached at the back of the collars. The equipment, weapons, and other gear they’d seen the Collective drones carrying apparently was not stored at this location. The team did, however, have two fully equipped examples. Two of the drones lay unconscious on the floor near the wall. The team had surprised them on entering the chamber.

Booth was the first to begin pulling the suit on. It slipped on effortlessly, almost like it was spreading itself over her bare skin, causing sparks to fly through her nerves as it went. What happened when she had it fully on was entirely expected, but nothing could prepare her for how it felt. The slit which ran down the back began to close on its own, activated by contact and body heat. Somehow, Booth remained standing, the sensations overwhelming her balance for a moment. She reached back to feel the garment, running her fingers over the area, and could find no seam. It had closed completely over her.

Looking at her team and seeing the same doubts she herself felt reflected in their faces as they, too, felt the sensations and their suits closed over them like skin, she turned to Silva, “Collars?” she asked.

“I can’t get into them, Lieutenant,” Silva held up the new collar and their mock up of the old style for comparison. The mock up was of a basket design which would enclose the whole neck in a metal framework, while the new version was a sold band of shiny metal, locking at the front with no visible keyhole. “The back piece, on the other hand, I can do something with,” she held up the segmented piece which would attach to the collar and rest flush against the base of the wearer’s skull and pointed to a spot in the middle. “These … things ..."—she pointed to a cluster of tiny dots on the inner surface—“I don’t know what they are … well, I cut them off from these over here,” she pointed to six of the units. “If we put these on, these things ... they aren’t wires, but they are heat activated and look like they would bore their way into the skin, probably interfacing with the nervous system ... These here should be safe ... I can’t do anything else to them that wouldn’t be seen.”

“Good work, Sergeant,” Booth said, taking one of the modified units and examining one of the collars. The disguise, she knew, was critical to the mission, because if they couldn’t pass as drones then they would have no chance of making their way into the facility without alerting the enemy to their presence; and then, she thought … and then we become drones for real.

Booth saw the rest of the team, holding collars and the headpieces, looking at her, and then looked at her own collar in her hand. It was simple enough, a metal band about two and a half centimeters wide, with a notch and a square locking piece of a brass colored metal which would secure it on the wearer. With considerable concern that she hoped the others couldn’t see in her face, she raised the collar to her neck and slid the locking piece into place.

The collar was on her neck, she could feel the coldness of the metal as it warmed against her skin, but there was nothing else, no tingles or stray thoughts about obedience—nothing.

She looked again at the team, all of whom were now following her example, and then to the headpiece. It was flexible, being made of segmented metal parts made to fit against the collar and the skin of the wearer. Silva had removed the spidery “wires” from it, but it still worried her. “Ever forward,” Booth voiced the familiar war cry as she held up her black ponytail and placed the device against her skin.

The sensation was overpowering and instantaneous. Her suit began to shrink on her skin, as did her collar. The sleeves of the garment began to extend, growing longer and covering her hands and fingers in glossy black. Her body felt electric, tingling from neck to toe, but she still, she noted with relief, felt nothing in her mind but what had been there all along: loyalty to her team and to their mission.

The boots came next, made of a thicker version of the suit material. They slid up onto her leg—just to the knee—and, just like the suit they closed entirely by themselves, form-fitting and shrinking against her leg, forming what felt like an air-tight fit.

She did her best to ignore the sensations throughout her body. There she was, encased from neck to toe in glossy black, with a metal collar and an alien device on the back of her neck, looking just the same as the rest of her team. All of them were in peak physical condition, and all of them trained killing machines; she wondered if the Colonel would even recognize them now.

“Silva,” Booth said, “you and Elean grab their gear.” She gestured to the two motionless drones on the floor, tied securely with several of the black suits.

Silva moved to them, followed by the blonde Elean. They removed the belts the drones wore and attached them around their own waists

“What do you think these do?” Silva held up a transparent sphere, about the size of a fist, that one of the drones had been holding.

Booth examined it from across the room as everyone looked. Before anyone could speak, the sphere suddenly burst out in a brilliant light, bathing those closest to it in its glow, while Booth and those further away were momentarily blinded by it.

The world stopped completely still and Booth’s thoughts seemed to evaporate inside her head. Her team stood motionless in front of her, Silva holding the gleaming orb and Elean stooping slightly, her face almost touching the pulsing sphere. Booth’s hand, she realized, was raised, as if she had been trying to block the light. She looked at it: how wonderful it was, encased in the glossy black, like a skin, a skin that was now on fire with impulses of bliss.

In the shifting light her brain was lulled into a relaxed state, wondering slowly what was happening but feeling good, really good, letting it happen. Booth began to see that the light contained whole words, even whole thoughts that, if she just stood and stared, she could see. Obey; yes, that made sense. Come closer; yes, she should move closer so she could see better; her legs started moving. Distantly, she had a stray thought that the light was dangerous, that it was danger, and that she should close her eyes and turn away, that she needed to concentrate and save her team. These thoughts came slowly to her as she saw Elean bend to pick up another sphere and turn toward Booth with a slack look of blissful pleasure on her face. The new light came forth blindingly along with thoughts acknowledging the modifiers had been activated, and that they must await collection and undergo their processing. All would be right after processing.

Processing Booth mouthed the word. “FUCK!” she screamed within her mind and then aloud as the shards of her blossoming obedience came crashing down. Without even realizing it, she had closed her eyes and was moving. In a lightning fast swing, her hand swatted the orb from Elean’s hand, sending it against the wall with a smack. Risking opening her eyes to mere slits, she swung again, grabbing the ball from a slowly resistant Silva and feeling the jolt as its power volted through her.

Reflex saved her, even as her mind told her to open her eyes and submit. She threw the sphere against the wall with everything she had left and, as it shattered, she felt her freed mind come back to itself.

She looked at her team, all of whom were staring, transfixed, on the spot where Silva and Elean still stood. Camara, who had been further away from the lights, was looking from her commander to the rest of the team, and glanced toward the entrance to the chamber they were in. Booth focused her attention on the two who had held the spheres and who seemed most affected. “Obey,” their mouths moved, and, for a moment, Booth’s mind forgot what it had been doing.

“Obey,” their lips kissed the word in unison.

Mhari, nearest them, seemed to be moving her lips with a blankness in her eyes while, a little further off, Ornella stared with her mouth hanging open, motionless. Booth moved, her training taking command, and her fist struck out, first knocking Silva off her feet with a punch to the jaw and then swinging a backhand to similarly unfooted Elean. The two lay sprawled on the floor, shaking their heads in an attempt to clear them.

“Lieutenant,” Camara spoke, taking a few steps nearer, “I know what I did to get volunteered for this trip,” she bent to help Elean to a sitting position, “But I’ve been wondering what you did to piss command off that much.”

“It’s classified, Corporal,” Booth smiled, slightly. “Work together. Work as one; ever forward,” she spoke the Raiders’ motto as the smile broadened.

“Raiders, Hoo-rah,” came the tired voice of Sergeant Silva from the floor. She was trying to stand.

“Are you okay?” Booth asked.

“Are you the bitch that hit me, sir?” Silva replied, finally standing.

“Do that again, Sergeant, and I’ll knock your whole damned head off.” Booth smiled, tiredly, rubbing the back of her head.

“It doesn’t make sense, Lieutenant,” Camara began, standing next to Booth. “Why risk six, sending us to a hollow planet in the asshole of space, to save just one?”

“Save?” Booth turned and faced Camara with a puzzled look, “being sent to kill her doesn’t sound like we were sent to save anything ... and we are the fifth team that’s gone in.”

“So, thirty,” Mhari interjected. “They send thirty to kill one? It’s useless ... You know that whatever she knows is property of the hive-mind by now.”

“She’s the Chancellor’s daughter,” Booth said flatly, “and no, it doesn’t make any sense, but they want her out ... or they want her dead, and they sent five teams of six people they can live without to do it. Which brings us to this little change I made in our program ...” Booth opened a pouch which had hung from her belt and distributed six objects among the team.

“Stun bracelets?” Camara held hers, “With a cloak modification?”

“We each get three shots, and with it cloaked we can wear them on our wrists and the drones don’t see them. The collective knows we’re here and is probably on its way right now. Gather up your pairs, ladies! We move in thirty seconds.”

“Sarge,” Elean said, grabbing Silva by the arm, “can you look at this?” She gestured to the device attached to the back of her head.

“I think it’s active,” Silva spoke in a low tone, “like the ... wires grew back—I can see them under the skin ...” Her hand went to her own neck line.

“Yours, too?” Elean breathed as the team began to move out in pairs, “We should tell them, shouldn’t we?”

“Yeah,” Silva said quietly, “we should.”

“You know that our orders strictly prohibited weapons, right, Lieutenant?” Camara said as they became the last pair to move out.

“Command can court martial me just as soon as we make it back.”

“Test,” Booth thought-spoke, using the comm-chips they had all been implanted with, “Respond with call-sign.” They were separated down the corridor in twos, spread out by about twenty meters, in order that they could support each other if needed; but , if one pair were captured or threatened by overwhelming numbers, the rest could scatter away, avoiding capture.

“Hook here,” Camara’s voice sounded, but next to Booth, Camara hadn’t said anything out loud. All evidence pointed to drones not speaking much, or at all, so their communication would be accomplished silently.

“Swag here,” Elean responded, paired with Silva, who responded next with her own call sign: “Sling”. The expected onslaught of drone soldiers hadn’t come, although Booth was sure she had felt the collective calling out to her through the glowing spheres and the trance-state they induced. She was sure that the Collective knew the team was inside.

“Flash here,” Ornella sounded off next, “Smog is having problems with her gear.”

“Copy that, Flash,” Booth responded. Damned experimental tech she fumed to herself; the mission was a tall enough order even without dodgy equipment. “Is she salvageable? Report.” Ornella and Mhari were on point and, as they moved deeper into the complex, the team would need their observations and warnings.

“Smog here,” Mhari voiced, several seconds later, “gear functional lieutenant, we’re getting a fix on the objective.”

“Good to hear from you, Smog,” Booth sighed, relieved.

“Target is five levels below us, bearing 026,” they all heard Ornella say.

“Shit!” Mhari said in a panicked voice. “Drone approaching with ...” and then nothing more.

“Cover, everybody, now!” Booth ordered while leading Camara into a side corridor and through a door.

The light was beautiful, Mhari thought, and it was hard to remember why she shouldn’t look at it. Malfunctioning drone, a voice spoke in her mind, you will stand and obey this drone until function is restored.

The drone stood in front of them, silently holding one of the glowing spheres as its light filled their eyes and minds. The voice must be her Ornella felt her mind think. It felt like she was thinking a lot. Her mind was falling over itself in the thoughts and feelings it was having, but she couldn’t hold any of it. She could even feel the light on the skin of her suit. In front of her face she saw a gloved hand in glossy black. It took several turns of thought for her brain to realize that the drone hand she could see was her own. Her frozen vision lost track of it as it slowly lowered to her side.

The drone moved closer, her arm extending toward Mhari, who raised her own hand to take the device, her mind completely captivated by its glow and the growing sensation as it touched her gloved hand.

The drone turned to Ornella and held out an open palm in front of her. In the space above the palm the air began to glow and then pulse with the same energy produced by the sphere that was now held by Mhari. Moments later Ornella was looking deep into a new sphere which had appeared in the drone’s hand. Ornella felt the surge through her as she accepted the device.

The modifier will direct malfunctioning drones to processing for diagnostics and repair. You will not deviate, the lovely voice licked their inner minds and they turned, marching, their thoughts asleep, in unison down a side corridor toward an open elevator.

Elean looked at Silva in the dim light of the chamber they’d entered. In front of them were six horizontal tubes along the wall, each holding a drone that appeared to be sleeping.

“This thing on my head is driving me crazy.” Silva whispered quietly.

“Yeah, mine, too,” Elean answered. “What do you think happened?”

“I saw a flash around the corner ahead where they’d just gone as we fell back. They either got captured or they got away.” Silva looked closely at the nearest drone: “Her eyes are open.” She’d never seen a drone this closely before, and had never noticed how the irises of their eyes were lit with a sort of electrical glow.

“Yeah,” Elean added, “Lets back away and maybe stand over there, maybe like we’re guarding the place, until it’s safe to move out.” They moved to the wall and took positions at either side of the door, facing the tubes which were humming low in the quiet room, the light within them was pulsating slightly.

The door closed loudly behind them as they dropped low and to either side, bodies tensed and ready. There were hundreds of them in the huge room, maybe a thousand; drones standing with arms bladed at their sides, looking straight ahead. The room buzzed with electricity. Above each drone was a metal ring, attached to the ceiling. From each ring, bolts of energy flowed around and through each drone like spider webs forming cocoons of power.

The two soldiers straightened themselves slowly: the drones appeared not to notice them, but who could be sure of anything in this place? They stood drone-still, assessing the situation and trying to look as much like they belonged there as possible.

Two drones stepped out of the energy flow with their eyes retaining its energy. One walked straight toward them while the other marched to a console at the wall and stood looking at a monitor silently.

Booth and Camara tensed, ready with the stun bracelets they wore, and both breathed a silent relief as the drone walked past them without any sign of seeing and left through the door they’d come in. In front of them, two of the rings lowered into position and began sending their lightning streams to the spots below them on the floor. The drone turned stiffly away from the panel to face the soldiers, regarding them silently for several seconds, and then moved back under her own ring to be awash in the energy stream once again.

“I think those are for us,” Booth heard Camara through her comm-chip. It was impossible to argue, but there was no way of knowing exactly how long they could stand there before an alarm was raised and they were made to join the rest of the drones in the room in whatever all of that that energy was doing to them.

Ornella and Mhari emerged from the elevator and turned left, passing drones moving in the other direction and joining the flow of drones marching toward their destination. They didn’t know where they were going. Actually, they couldn’t know. Their modifiers filled their minds with light and they followed, feeling wonderful, free of thought, with their wills turned off. The light they could feel through the whole of their bodies would bring them where they needed to go and that was all they knew—all they were capable of knowing.

A door slid aside and they entered a long, narrow chamber, coming to a stop and staring straight ahead into the depthless light they both held in their hands. Malfunctioning drones will enter diagnostic; it took them a few moments to realize that the lights of their modifiers had vanished and the solid forms of the spheres had disappeared. Malfunctioning drones will enter the diagnostic, the voice repeated, and their eyes were drawn to the speaker, a blank-faced drone, standing a few steps away, facing them. Slowly they moved, their minds trying to catch up with what was happening ... trying to manage the task of having thoughts at all.

Mhari could feel the pull, knowing that she must do as the drone said and moving toward the apparatus in front of her as her thoughts screamed within her that she needed to wake up and run. “Wha ...” her voice found itself just as she reached the apparatus and her body was suddenly encased in a flow of crackling, humming electricity.

Nearly a half step behind, Ornella paused and turned toward her companion, having heard her speak, “Mhari ...” she barely forced the sound from her mouth, “… we can’t ...” As her mind assembled the situation around her, she saw Mhari within the flow of energy, turning to face outward with a look of blank contentment on her face.

“Ornella,” Mhari heard through her comm-chip, “they don’t understand, oh ...” the voice paused amid a flurry of unintelligibles, pants and sighs... “They think we’re malfunctioning ... oh! Malfunctioning drones ... they, uh ... they don’t understand, uh ... humans joining them freely ... uh! … coming to them voluntarily ...” The voice once again disassembled itself into a mad mix of ecstasy and exhaustion. “They don’t, uh! understand disguise... deception... they find it... interesting... They have new ... new plans,” Mhari struggled through the comm-chip. “Oh my! they’re reading my thoughts now ... Ornella! we can’t ... oh ... need to get out ... need ... no ... need ... obey.”

Ornella stood, feeling her own pull as it pulled her toward her own diagnostic chamber. The bliss held her, called to her, and Mhari’s voice ... the fear in the voice made Ornella’s thoughts skip ... and then they formed new thoughts around a center of her consuming fear and she started to turn ... to ... to run.

“They know, Ornella,” came the now softer thoughts of Mhari in Ornella’s mind, “They know sooo much about us now ... It feels so good, Ornella ... to ... to ooobey ...”

Run! the thought crashed through her mind, shattering everything around it and her legs were moving before she completely understood why. As she turned, her eyes were filled instantly by a brilliant flash. Ornella looked at her hand as her arm raised it and her palm flattened out in front of her. The sphere, her modifier, suspended above her traitorous hand, appeared within the light as it sought out every part of her resistance and smoothed it away. Ornella turned and faced the drone who had spoken earlier.

“You are intruders,” the drone said, her voice becoming everything Ornella knew. “You must be processed,” Ornella knew it was true, she was an intruder and she hadn’t been processed, “The intruders will enter processing, you will comply.”

Mhari stepped stiffly out of the diagnostic and both began walking deeper into the room. Along one wall stood a row of circular platforms with polished surfaces. Above the platforms, clear tubes hung from the ceiling. Both women stepped onto the platforms and stood, facing outward as the tubes lowered around them.

“Orn ...” Mhari began to speak as the flow of energy engulfed her and what remained of her thoughts were swept away.

“I can’t get any of them through the comm system,” Silva whispered, keeping a close watch on the drone women sleeping across the room from them.

“They couldn’t have gotten them all,” Elean offered, sounding more hopeful than confident.

“If you see any of them, be careful,” Silva said, turning to face her companion, “If they’ve been caught the drones will send them after us to make a point. It’s the surest way to show the futility of continued resistance.”

Elean’s response was cut short as the room hissed with the opening seals of the tubes. Two drones rose to seated positions as their tubes receded back into the wall and remained still, facing straight ahead for several seconds until standing and marching to the door.

Both soldiers tensed, readying their stun weapons, expecting the drones to challenge them but instead the door slid quietly open allowing them to exit.

Silva waited a few seconds before peering out into the corridor. The two drones who’d just left were marching rhythmically away to the right while the rest was clear- no, wait, four drones had just turned the corner, coming toward her.

“Trouble,” Silva said through the comm-chip, pulling back quickly and held up four fingers so Elean could see and then pointing in the direction the drones were approaching from. It seemed like an eternity listening to the growing sound of booted feet on the polished floor, and then the door slid closed once more.

Ornella could feel it growing in her mind. Her body sang with the energy flowing through her. She could feel the collective, and, while she was still trying to fight the process, she knew it was only a matter of time before it was going to win.

Mhari was no longer afraid. She could feel it each time the process corrected something as it sifted through her brain. It surprised her that she could still think, but just how she was feeling surprised her even more. Above all, she felt horny, with arousal seeping from every pore. It was taking her to the edge and holding her there and she couldn’t stand it, yet it still held her, sifting her thoughts and her mind, eroding and correcting as it went.

Ornella pushed back. The fire that had been lit in her body made it hard to concentrate on the effort, but she had managed, however briefly, to regain herself enough to want, at least, to move—although movement still eluded her. As she exerted herself, she could feel it, like something fluid seeping, flowing around that resisting part of her. She felt her mind blank out as her resistance was fully engulfed, and then, when her mind came back, she could feel, fleetingly, the softening echo of where the resistance had been.

Mhari felt it building at last, as the walls she had desperately thrown up came crashing down. It built suddenly and then exploded within her in orgasmic bliss as her mind fell into surrender. She felt the collective enter her mind, and next to her she felt Ornella reeling from her own climax.

The processing tubes began to wind themselves down as their occupants convulsed from wave upon wave of mind-obliterating orgasm after orgasm.

“Nothing,” Booth’s voice sounded through Camara’s comm-chip. “We need to move.” She turned slowly toward the door and it clicked, then slid open. The drones passing by seemed to pay them no mind as they marched out among them.

“Target is bearing 029, still five levels down,” Booth turned down a side corridor when she saw an elevator at the far end. In her mind she could see the tracking data emitted by their target.

“What about the others?” Camara voiced through her chip.

“Negative,” Booth answered coldly, “the mission takes priority. If we succeed, then we can look for the others.” There was a lingering question in Booth’s mind as to whether the elevator would open for them. There were no controls visible, but there was no other way they could see to reach their target.

It was quiet outside the door, and had been for several minutes. Silva and Elean stood facing the six tubes, two of which were empty, unsure of what to do. They hadn’t been able to hear whether the drones had continued down the corridor or had stopped, and so they waited as the room and the tubes hummed on.

Silva rubbed the back of her head. She could feel them, the wires from the apparatus she’d worn as a disguise, burrowing deeper into her head. She didn’t know how they had regenerated—Collective technology was more unknown than known, since the only way to access it had been through the Collective itself. Now she stood in a room with sleeping drones and a fellow soldier, dressed like a drone and feeling as drone-tech infiltrated her nervous system.

The feel of the place—it had a feel—was indescribable. She could feel the sound of the room she was in against her skin, throughout her body, and especially in her most private reaches. Her body felt afire with thoughts of what it would be to touch the sleeping drones, to touch her body, to feel everything. While, deep down, she knew she couldn’t and wouldn’t, the thought of it no longer scared her as much as it had ... or as much as she thought she remembered it had. As the drones slept on, she was unable to resist feeling wonderful, simply listening and experiencing the sound growing upon her body. There was a flickering in the lighting—which her eyes had long since adjusted to and which she hardly noticed any more.

“Sling, this is Flash,” Silva heard Ornella’s voice from her comm-chip.

“Sling here,” Silva responded, like an air bubble trying to rise through glue.

“Everything is all right,” the voice said.

That’s good, Silva’s mind thought.

“We’re coming, but you need to listen.”

Listen, Silva’s mind thought; listening was so much easier than thinking.

“Listen and feel,” Ornella said in her mind, “feel the skin on your body, feel how wonderful it is.”

Silva had to admit that she did feel really good.

“Feel your body with your hands,” the voice soothed in her mind and, without her being fully conscious of it, her hands began moving, caressing, cupping, touching. She was very relaxed and it felt wonderful.

Two more of the tubes slid open and the drones within sat up, and began walking toward them as Silva and Elean stood, entranced, watching as the women in their lovely black marched swayingly toward them, moving around behind them to begin touching. The sensation was amazing as the gloved fingertips moved lightly, teasingly outward from the apparatus at the back of their heads, tracing down and outward.

Two hands moved around Silva’s body as her own hands came to rest at her sides, they moved up slowly, tracing their way from her hips to her breasts, caressing them lightly.

“Let go,” the voice oozed as she felt warm breath whisper across her ear and warm the back of her neck. “look at your hand”, her eyes moved down as her right hand came up. It really was lovely, her slow thoughts thought, encased in black slickness just like the hands that were now giving her pleasure. But what was remarkable was that it was starting to glow; in the air just above her palm there was a light. Suddenly, the light burst forth, filling her eyes, her mind, her whole being. The sphere she now held became her entire world and she barely registered that, next to her, Elean was holding her own identical glowing orb.

The hands teased lower and lower, moving down, caressing their way across hips and to more private areas. Silva felt it all, while her mind was filled with the wonderful light as fingers teased her opening. It felt as if they were inside, and her mind didn’t bother wondering if her suit had opened somehow. She just had to listen and feel.

“You’re doing well,” the voice coated her mind; “so relaxed, so calm, so aroused,” Silva knew the voice was right. She was very aroused, wanting, needing, craving release, “So obedient.”

Obedient, the word hit Silva’s mind like a tidal wave and she somehow remained standing as it swept through her body in a soul-drenching orgasm.

Booth was counting the floors as the elevator descended; there wasn’t an indicator or any controls, but she could feel the downward motion and see as each floor passed by the changing light at the base of the door. She had just been wondering how they could stop at the right level without controls when they came to a stop, two levels above their target, and the doors slid open, admitting two drones.

The two drones were Ornella and Mhari. They looked into each other’s eyes as the elevator resumed its motion, looking, hoping, wondering how the other was, not knowing how to proceed. Booth had heard Mhari’s warning about the drone, but there had been nothing more. Their mission protocol dictated that, once separated, each team was to treat all other members with suspicion until their status could be verified or until the mission was complete.

There’s something about their eyes, Booth thought.

Booth and Camara stood drone-stiff, looking straight ahead but not at the two soldiers who stood opposite them. Ornella and Mhari did the same.

Silva’s legs were moving before her mind could be aware. She knew she needed to follow the light; it was all she knew, and she would, to. She began walking in the wake of the light she held in her own hand. “You must enter storage,” the voice that was like her own thoughts told her, “you must enter and wait until you can be processed. You desire conversion.”

“I desire conversion,” Silva’s lips moved, and she did, too; all she could think was how wonderful it would feel once she was converted. She lay obediently on the soft platform and waited while the clear tube slid over her and felt the warm hum and flickering lights put her mind to sleep. She didn’t even notice that, next to her, Elean was sleeping in her own storage tube, and that, on the other side, the two drones who had brought them pleasure had returned to their own stasis.

“Good to see that you got away, Lieutenant,” Mhari said.

“What about you two?” Booth asked, “How did you?” she raised her arm to fire the stun bracelet just as Camara followed suit raising her own. The bracelets flashed and the shots hit their marks, three rounds hitting each woman in the chest.

And nothing happened.

“The suits are wonderful,” Ornella said, lifting her right arm, palm up. “They absorb energy and feed it into us ... once you become part of us you’ll know ... and understand ... It feels so good to obey.” There was a flash, and then a sphere appeared above Ornella’s palm, immediately followed by another in Mhari’s raised hand.

“Obey,” Camara heard Booth breathe slowly. At the last second she’d closed her eyes, but the light was pulling her, using the suit to work its will on her mind, and she could feel herself slipping, wanting, needing to open her eyes to the light. With the last of her strength, she struck out, punching Ornella in the face and smashing her wrist down on that of Mhari, whose bracelet, still in place with its cloaking field engaged, made a solid crack.

The two cloak fields coming together caused them to overload, creating a bright flash and a burst of energy, throwing all four off their balance just as the doors slid open. Camara grabbed Booth’s arm and dragged her, still mouthing unspoken words into the corridor and around a corner. She knew it was hopeless to hide, since both Ornella and Mhari would be able to track their chips just as they were tracking their objective, but she needed to find a moment for Booth to regain herself, so she ducked into the first side corridor they saw and then through a door.

The room was full of stacked shipping totes and lit only dimly. “Lieutenant,” Camara shook her companion.

“Fucking Hell,” Booth groaned, shaking her head with her body doubled over.

“AWOL,” Camara said. “They caught me off base without a pass, in bed with a local, smoking those funny little orange things that turn your tongue blue and totally screw with your brain … and I volunteered for this picnic. What the hell, eh?“

“I mooned the Chancellor,” Booth said, tiredly, standing up finally.

“Serious?”

“I was drunk, celebrating my promotion,” Booth smiled, not quite laughing, “I saw this big boat out on the bay and, well ...”

“So you show him your ass and he sends you to kill his daughter? That story almost makes this whole day make sense.” They both shared a short laugh before straightening and moving to the door. “Target is 075 and close, maybe 30 meters.”

“We go,” Booth said after peering out, “Act like them and go. One or both of us makes it, that’s all we can do. We worry about after ... after.

They walked in the same stiff gait they’d seen the drones use, around a corner and then another and came face to face with Silva and Elean.

“Submit,” Silva said, and Booth shoved Camara out of the way as Elean’s raised hand began to glow, Booth immediately became still as Camara risked a look back.

Silva was turning toward her as Camara saw a glow appear in Booth’s hand, too, forming into one of the spheres. Booth was now staring at her own enslavement. “Fuck!” Camara yelled, and started running.

The glow was deep and pure and it felt so wonderful to fall into it, to surrender to it. It told Booth that she wanted it to show her how to obey, and it was true. Obedience filled her whole being as the glowing ball in her hand made her follow.

The target was close, probably just on the other side of the double doors she was approaching, so Camara ran, hoping the doors would open and practically diving through when they did.

She was in a large, long chamber with polished metal platforms lining one wall, each with a clear tube hung above it, attached to the ceiling. In front of her there was a small cart with an object she immediately recognized on it: a chip, like the one she herself had under her skin. Her tracking data showed her target directly in front of her as she couldn’t help but laugh.

Sure, she thought, their objective was here somewhere, the drone girl they came to find who was now just like all of the other drone girls in this place; just like I’m going to be, was her last free thought as she turned to face the other drones who had just come into the room. She would fight, if only because it was part of who she was, but she knew, as the lights filled the room and began their assault on her mind, that it was only a matter of time.

Epilogue

“Our team lost three, Colonel,” Booth stood at attention, dressed in simple black pants with a pressed white collared shirt, her off-duty uniform. “Three didn’t make it out, sir.”

“Yes,” Colonel Kannakis said, “I read your report, but the three of you were able to achieve your mission regardless,” he shifted the chip in his hand. “Very good work; there will be promotions and commendations in this for all of you. We will have great need of your particular expertise in our actions against the Collective, but you need rest. You’re dismissed, Lieutenant.”

Booth walked down the stairs and outside, covering the distance to her quarters across the parade grounds. Her eyes drifted to watch the fit bodies of a squad as they marched their drill routine, moving in unison. She’d never been into girls before, but a lot had changed in a week. Once inside, she walked to the side of her bed, and looked at herself in the wall mirror. In her own vision, the metal collar around her neck, cloaked to all the rest of the world, was plain to see. Looking deeper into the reflection, deeper into her own eyes, she could see the wonderful electric glow, a power that would soon flow through all ... Yes, she thought with a shudder of pure pleasure rolling over her. Three team members lost: she knew it was untrue, of course, just as part of her envied those sisters, left behind, obeying openly where she would need to obey in secret. Yes, deception was a new concept for the Collective, and she could feel the small circle her droneskin had become on her back, hidden where only she could know.

Yess, a lot has changed, and we have much to do, she sighed with the pleasure of her obedience.