The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The wormhole-drive had been invented just in time. The Earth was dying due to pollution, resource exhaustion, climate change and all the other plagues of modern technology. A diaspora started, but the wormhole drive was a one-way trip; millions left without the option of ever returning.

Thousands of worlds were terraformed and colonized; some of these colonies flourished, others went extinct. But without the means of convenient space travel, no galactic empire was formed. It took more than 8000 years after Earth’s final collapse, before one of the colonies developed the hyperdrive and started to re-establish contacts with its fellow colonies.

Establishing these new ‘first contacts’ was a long and sometimes dangerous process.

Our ship, the ‘Rodrigo de Jerez’ exited hyperspace. The watch officer gave a routine status update. The Captain addressed me:

“Junior Officer Kolpath, update regarding the planetary system.”

I quickly reviewed the reports: “Twelve planets, strong indication that the fourth planet is a living world. Spectroscopy indicative of oxygen and chlorophyll, Sir.”

I checked another reading: “No radio cloud, Sir.”

“Any other indications of intelligent life?”

“I’ll review images for buildings and artificial lighting, Sir.”

“Thank you, Ms. Kolpath. Executive officer, set an approach course to planet IV,” the Captain ordered. “I don’t expect any humans down there, but StarCommand wants us to be sure. And living worlds are interesting anyway.”

“Captain, officers, you might want to see this.”

I projected an image on the big screen. “This is a daytime image. What you see is almost unbroken forest canopy, extending from the equator right up to the polar zone.”

I changed the image. “This is a night time image. Please notice these small spots of light.”

I changed the image back to a daytime image. “The lights are not associated with significant artificial structures; however, they seem to arise from small clearings or other breaks in the forest canopy.”

I changed the image again. “This is the shore of a lake, where lights were visible at night. If the image is magnified...” I zoomed in, building up some dramatic effect: “Then we see this.”

The image was blurry due to the extreme magnification, but a human form, squatting at the waterline, was clearly distinguishable.

There was some cheering from the officers; a ‘first contact’ always looked good on a mission report.

I changed the image again: “The forest canopy is mostly unbroken. However, this site is an exception. It is a big clearing in the forest. This structure here, at its border is difficult to interpret, but it might be a kind of defensive wall around an enclosure. The Enclosure is almost devoid of visible structures, but spectral analysis confirms metals and heavy isotopes.”

“Suggested course of action, Ms. Kolpath?” the Captain asked.

“The Enclosure itself would be a possible landing spot. However, in line with the protocols for re-establishing contact, we should avoid major dwellings or special structures and pick a lightly inhabited location. However, a location fairly close to the Enclosure would permit its investigation. This rocky peninsula here would meet these requirements; it is free from trees and suitable as a landing spot; it is approximately 100 clicks from the Enclosure.”

“Excellent analysis, Ms. Kolpath. Action endorsed. Executive Officer, prepare a landing at the suggested site.” He paused. “A living planet deserves a true name, not just a code that no one can pronounce. Ms. Kolpath, I believe your first name is Zoë. Naming is Captain’s prerogative, and I suggest Zoë’s world.

I swelled with pride. I was the most junior officer, one of only two women in a crew of twelve, and surrounded by male chauvinist pigs. After weeks of listening to sexist jokes, this was a big break.

Observations during the descent confirmed my evaluation. We saw an endless forest, broken only by lakes and seas. Any humans down there would have reverted to the Stone Age. The protocols for re-establishing contact with lost human colonies had endless procedures for establishing radio contact; the situation simply forced us to ignore these. We had to establish real face to face contact immediately—and hope that the natives were friendly.

The ship had landed at the point of the rocky peninsula. The Captain ordered to set up a small camp close to the perimeter of the forest, as far away from the ship as possible. Three members of the crew would pose as its inhabitants: I was the obvious first choice; petty officers Bill and Matt acted as the other occupants. This small camp, three tents, and a fireplace, would be less deterring than the big metal ship, and therefore—hopefully—attract any natives living around here.

If humans showed up, and if they spoke, the AI of the ship would try to translate: Experience had shown that languages on lost planets were usually derived from Old English, and that grammar and words, although changed, remained recognizable.

Although the AI and the whole crew would support me, it would be my job to make actual first contact.

We waited for two days. Several times we suspected movements in the dense forest, but even with Infrared goggles we were not sure.

I was grinding coffee, when Bill alerted me. “Someone is coming.”

Three women emerged from the foliage. It was immediately clear they were peaceful; they were not carrying shields, spears or other arms. Actually, they were not carrying anything, not even clothes. They lingered a few meters from the vegetation, as if they were afraid to leave the cover of the forest. I gestured Bill and Matt; the three of us walked towards them.

The woman in front gazed inquisitively at us. It gave me the opportunity to observe the three women. They were nude, and their uniform tan confirmed that they probably never wore any clothes.

Bill muttered a dirty remark; Matt wondered if the ladies would be interested in an orgy. I snubbed them both.

The women were similarly built; long, lithe and slender. Their smooth skin was to various extents covered with body paint, displaying colorful, intricate motifs. The woman in front was dark blonde; her right companion olive skinned with dark hair; the third one was platinum blonde. As I approached, I noted a final striking feature; all three women had turquoise eyes.

I addressed them my friendliest voice: “Be greeted. We are fellow humans. We come in peace.”

I pointed towards myself: “Zoë.”

I then pointed towards Bill and Matt, stating their names.

The woman in front briefly looked at me; she then stared at the two men, as if she had never seen such creatures before. She then returned her gaze to me. I saw in her turquoise eyes that she could understand what I was—a woman like her.

She started to speak, slowly. She pointed to herself, saying “Jill”, followed by some explanation. The olive skinned was called Britt and her blonde companion was again Britt. Then we alternated in pointing and naming objects around us.

The ship’s AI, listening in through my earpiece, had little difficulty. It commented that the language was an extremely simplified form of Earth English, and it subsequently suggested words and sentences that I could try. Britt was delighted with our mutual understanding. I learnt that they referred to themselves as the ‘Maids of the Forest’.

Then she came with a request that puzzled the AI for a moment.

“Britt—the Brunette—apparently asks if all of you could remove your leaves.”

I hesitated for a moment, realizing that my crewmates would make dirty jokes about this during the whole return trip—but if I wanted to succeed, I had to see this through. I removed my uniform jacket. The two Britts and Jill watched attentively, clearly interested. I ordered the men to do the same. The three women were clearly surprised by the torsos of the two men.

I continued, removing my bra. Matt whistled softly, I had to refrain myself from scolding him—that would endanger the whole communication with the three women in front of me. I pulled off my boots, then my pants; the men did the same. Blonde-Britt said something; the AI thought she expressed some form of amazement about the amount of clothes or ‘leaves’ we wore.

We had all undressed and I turned around slowly, to show myself to them. The women investigated me briefly, and nodded their approval. They again gazed endlessly at the two men, clearly still not understanding and undecided what to do. Then Jill took a decision, which I could already understand without help from the translator: “Zoë, you come with us; the aliens must stay here.”

Although I was fascinated by three women in front of me, I was scared shitless. If I went with them, I was at their mercy. The natives might have hidden a complete army in the forest, and they could torture or just finish me off at their whim. But this was also—again—an opportunity, to make real contact with them, to learn, and to get the credit. I felt my ambition burning. No risk, no gain. I stepped forward.

We started hiking. The forest was dense; the path was difficult to follow. Jill had not given me the opportunity to get dressed again. I was concerned about predators, stingy insects, thorns and rocks. But the soil was soft, moss-like, and the forest was quiet, devoid of animals except butterflies.

The large convoluted trees all looked more or less similar, clearly belonging to the same species; they carried large colorful flowers in all colors of the rainbow, and big fruits that looked like cucumbers or zucchinis, colors ranging from green and unripe to yellow and orange, when ripe. In between I saw some oversized pea pods. Thatch and stakes grew between the trees. The long walk numbed me, and I lost my sense of time. Step by step, step by step, we moved...

Suddenly we were there; a small village, little more than a clearing in the forest surrounded by huts. It was an idyllic scene: I saw about fifty-odd women; some being engaged in practical activities like preparing food, or repairing a thatched roof. I saw someone being body painted. The artist only had some small brushes at her disposal; it would take ages but neither artist nor canvas seemed to be short on time.

Most inhabitants were just sleeping or lying leisurely. I saw some women being massaged; when I looked closer I noticed that at least one of the massages was very intimate.

What struck me again was the absence of men; this was a paradise inhabited only by beautiful nude women—any men’s wet dream, save for the fact that the absence of men seemed to make this possible. And although my arrival should have been a major event, it seemed hardly noticed—as if nothing could disturb the idyllic atmosphere of this Arcadia.

I asked Jill if we would be welcomed by their leader; she seemed to struggle with the concept.

“Who’s the chief around here? Who decides what you have to do? Or do you decide together?”

“The Forest leads us,” she said. “We are its servants, and together we will decide how to best serve its goals.”

“So you will meet and palaver.”

“If necessary—but first we will celebrate your arrival.” She smirked: “We never ignore a good excuse for a celebration.”

All the natives were now slowly gathering around us, the general prospect of a celebration apparently just as alluring as my specific attendance. Some of the women touched and stroked me, as if this was completely natural. One of the women asked something which the translator interpreted as: ‘Did she come out of a pod today?’ It was unclear if she referred to my ship, but Jill denied this anyway.

“We do not know, but Zoë will share with us.”

The celebration was organized quickly. A few women started playing drums. Big baskets with dark-orange zucchini’s were fetched and offered to everyone. I started to eat, enjoying its juicy taste. I tried to learn the word for this fruit, but apparently it was just ‘the fruit’ although the color mattered; dark orange was for celebrations, yellow for daily fare. I also tried to get introduced to everyone; this was confusing because there were far more inhabitants than names. Basically everybody was called Britt, Eve, Kim, Mae, Val, Mel, Sue, Jill, Lee, or Tess. They seemed to have some difficulty with my name, because it wasn’t monosyllabic.

I tried to understand how they could tell each other apart if everybody was called Kim or Tess, but they did not see any problem. If necessary they could refer to blonde Tess or dark Mae, but altogether they thought that names weren’t really important. They were all maids of the forest, weren’t they?

In return, I tried to explain where I was from and who was aboard my ‘giant pod’. I was confused about the whole situation. Where were the men? Where was their leader? I repeatedly tried to ask, but they all struggled with the whole concept of ‘leader’. They were all servants; the word for maid and servant being the same. The monotonic drums made thinking about this difficult anyway. I felt light headed, as if I had drunk one beer too many.

The sun had set; even though small oil lamps were lightened, it was difficult to see what was exactly happening.

Some of the natives were making out again. I saw two women fondling each other; the two Britts were kissing deeply. I wondered what it would be like, to kiss a girl.

I felt Kim gently stroking my back, suddenly realizing that she had been doing this for a while. I felt uneasy; Kim somehow sensed what inhibited me. She loosened the earpiece, threw the communicator away. No one from the ship was watching me now. The drums were mesmerizing; I let Kim continue.

Mae walked to me: “You know what’s even sweeter than fruit?”

I more or less understood what she asked and shook my head. She picked a fruit, slid it in her cunt, and then offered it to me. Somewhere I felt amazed, but it all seemed so natural here. I took a bite, enjoying the juices of the fruit and of Mae. Kim parted my legs, and Mae now slid a fruit in my cunt. I moaned. She fucked me, stopped teasingly. I watched her eating the fruit, while Kim moved her hand to my clit. Mae kissed me, we shared everything. Another fruit entered my cunt, fucking me. Kim fondled my tits.

I was assaulted, but the drums silenced my dizzy thoughts. I was not assaulted, I was initiated. I was part of this band, part of the forest; I would be a maid of the forest and serve.

I exploded into bliss and nothingness.

The whole world was tumbling. I did not dare to open my eyes. I felt an arm wrapped around me. I softly pushed it away; it pulled me softly closer. I waited, slowly coming to my senses again.

I opened my eyes. The sunlight hurt a bit. I rolled over, I saw Mae lying beside me, still dozing. I got up carefully, still dizzy. I left the hut, stumbled through the village. It was empty.

Fear hit me. I was alone. I didn’t have my earpiece communicator and couldn’t call my ship. I couldn’t hike back either; I only had a general idea about its location, and the dense forest would be difficult to navigate.

Mae had woken up and strolled to me, chewing on a fruit. She acted unconcerned.

“Where’s everybody?” I was sufficiently familiar with their simple language to communicate.

“Serving the forest.” Mae shrugged, and offered me her fruit: “Eat. It’ll make you feel better.”

I took a bite, swallowed the juice, chewed on the meaty pulp. The terrible hangover slowly subsided, and I felt light-headed, a bit high.

I stared at Mae, who was silently meditating. She was perfect, I thought. Lithe and slender, but with a twitch of muscle, long blonde hair that was loosely hanging around her head, round tits and ass, firm where a woman was supposed to be firm, soft where she had to be soft.

Mae’s calmness soothed me. I noticed the sun was already setting; it had to be beginning of the afternoon.

“I slept all day?”

Mae smiled: “You slept two nights, or three, I dunno.”

“You dunno?”

Mae shrugged again. “Two nights, three nights, many nights, it’s all the same.”

She touched my shoulders: “You’re still tense,” she said. “I’ll help you.”

She pointed to a blanket: “On your belly.”

I lay down and Mae sat on top of me. Her strong legs clamped my body so that I could not move. I felt her pussy against my ass; it was wet.

She started to knead my shoulders with some force.

“Ouch, that hurts,” I exclaimed.

“You’re so tense.” She paused. “No one is tense like you. You’re a strange Maid, with a long, strange name. Zo-wie.”

Her marvel about me did not stop her. Her firm kneads became softer. She turned around so that her legs now embraced my waist and her hand moved between my ass. I could not stop her if I wanted to. I dozed off in soft ecstasy.

When I woke up, it was morning again.

I felt better; a bit woolly but relaxed. Mae and I were still alone but I felt unconcerned. We ate.

I waved around: “The blankets, the tools, the oil for the lamps, the paint, where does it all come from?”

“It grows on the Trees,” Mae said.

I laughed.

“All right, it’s not ready-to-use.” Mae smiled. “We have to spin the cotton into threads and patches. But the cotton grows on the Trees.”

“Different Trees, then?”

“No, the same Trees, of course. There’s only one kind.”

She gestured: “Let’s take a walk.”

We walked through the forest around the town. Mae pointed to long braided strands of what was apparently some kind of raw cotton. From the same Tree she collected some small pod. She opened one to show it contained bodypaint. Then we arrived at a giant pod, which Mae tenderly inspected. “Almost ripe,” she muttered.

“What’s in there?” I asked.

“A maid,” she said. “To replace the lost ones. She’ll hatch soon.”

At that very moment, the pod cracked. A small tear appeared near the top, closest to the Tree. Mae put her hands on the edges of the crack, and pulled to widen the tear.

“Of course she hatches now,” she said. “She knows we’re here. It’s better to hatch with help.”

She exerted some more force: “Help me, Zoë.”

I did as she did, and together we tried to open the pod. First, it resisted, but suddenly the pod tore open fully, exposing its content: A beautiful woman, covered in protective jelly. She gasped for breath. Mae held her tightly; hugged her, then kissed her deeply.

“Welcome,” Mae said.

I followed her example, kissing the woman.

Mae started to lick the woman’s face.

“How should we call her?” I asked.

Mae shrugged: “You name her, if you want.”

I smiled: I’ll name you Skye.”

I followed Mae’s example and started to clean Skye, first her face and her arms. We both took care of a breast; teasing her hard nipple. I then descended to the natural destination. Skye could do little but gasp and moan when I licked her smooth cunt, until she climaxed.

We lingered under the Tree until Skye had gained enough strength to walk. It took some time to get home; Skye needed lots of hugs and we were both more than happy to oblige.

The village was no longer empty when we returned; and Skye’s arrival was greeted with cheers; I was hugged and praised for helping Mae in hatching the new Maid. A new celebration was already being organized.

I started to help, but Lee stopped me:

“You hatched Skye today. We must all thank you.”

“Mae did most of the work,” I protested.

“Mae is already getting what she deserves.”

Lee nodded towards one of the corners, where Mae was being caressed by at least three women. Lee hugged me tightly, and I felt a second pair of hands. I turned my head and recognized Jill. I was compressed by their hot nude bodies. Their fingers found my nipples and clit; I wanted to return the favor but simply did not get the opportunity.

Eve gave me the second orgasm of the night. After that, we cuddled together, watching the others having fun. We nibbled some more fruits, licking each other clean again if fruit juice dripped on our bodies.

“Hey, I know her,” I muttered. She stood out from the rest; another fresh arrival, not adorned with body paint, still acting somewhat awkward, but enjoying the strokes and caresses of Tess and Kim—or was it another Tess? I wasn’t sure.

I stood up and walked towards the wriggling heap of woman. I was surprised when I recognized her:

“Tiffany, is that you?”

“Miss Kolpath!”

I smiled: “I’m beginning to forget that name. It’s Zoë.”

Tiffany smiled: “Tess here can’t pronounce Tiffany—it’s just Tiff for them.”

I sat down next to Tiffany; Tess pulled us closer and I felt Tiffany’s tight body. She had been cook’s apprentice; the youngest and lowest in rank on board. Except for being female, Tiffany was my exact opposite; not very bright, and used to following orders without questioning.

“How did you end up here?”

“You were gone for days. Yesterday at dusk, they came to the ship. At least thirty Maids. The men went wild; even the Old Man coaxed two to his cabin. Or they coaxed him.” She blushed. “I did not want to. I’ve always been straight, I thought.”

“Are you ashamed for having sex with Maids?”

“No.” Tiffany hesitated before continuing: “I’m ashamed that I rejected Tess.”

Tiffany and Tess kissed, a long kiss, and Tiffany’s hand was on my thigh, stroking it, searching for my cunt.

“Wait.” I broke their kiss. “What happened then?”

“I dunno. Tess helped me cleaning the kitchen, and then I went to my bunk.” She looked apologetic to Tess. “I’m sorry let you sleep on the floor.”

They started to make out again.

“That’s fine,” I interrupted. “I don’t think Tess’s angry at you anymore. But what happened to the others?”

“When I woke up, everybody was gone. Just vanished into thin air. I found Tess and Jill waiting for me outside. When I asked, they did not really know what had happened.” A moan; now that they did no longer kiss, Tess had started to lick Tiffany’s clit. “They said… The others were aliens… Which the Forest did not need… O fuck Tess make me cum…”

My train of thoughts about the others onboard the Rodrigo de Jerez were interrupted when Skye showed up, and started to play tricks with my cunt that suggested way more experience than she could have.

Tiffany easily adapted, and seemed to have all but forgotten everything about our original mission within days. She just surrendered to the simple life of eating fruits and eating pussy. What else could there be?

I enjoyed village life too, but something kept nagging me. So I went to Jill, who had welcomed me and who seemed to be most able to think beyond the next fuck.

“There’s a place where Trees do not flourish.”

“It’s a rumor,” Jill conceded.

“It is not,” I said. “I’ve seen it. From the sky.”

Jill chuckled: “You’re weird, Zo-wie. A weird Maid with a weird double name, and telling weird stories.”

“We have to think for the Trees, right.”

Jill was puzzled: “I guess so. We serve with our brains.”

“I have to go there. Understanding that place is my way of serving the Trees.”

She nodded slowly: “If that’s what you have to do.”

“Do you know where the rumors are coming from?”

“You just start walking. The Trees will feed you and the Forest is full of Maids.”

“I’ll take Tiff and Skye along for company anyway.”

Jill thought for a moment: “I’ll join you. Even if we won’t find anything it’s an interesting voyage.”

The voyage surely was interesting.

We would bump into another village after two or three hours of walking, and we could never refuse the hospitality of its inhabitants. And we had to stay at least three nights everywhere; the first night was for the massive celebration in our honor, and we needed another two nights to recover from the resulting hangover.

In one village, we stayed for like a month or so, because we attended the most important celebration in the life of a Maid of the Forest; the Planting of the Seeds.

Tiffany and Skye seemed to forget our destination; the voyage, a long string of fucks and orgasms, was enough for them. Even Jill displayed little concern for our elusive goal, and was mainly interested in learning new body paint patterns.

“Maids rarely travel for more than one or two days beyond the village where they hatch,” she once commented. “We should travel more—if only to lick a fresh cunt.”

We did not travel in a straight line. We made detours, mostly by accident, some on purpose. I was happy, we were all happy. The simple happiness of a carefree life, the happiness of knowing that there would always be food and a warm horny body waiting for us.

But I got excited when we arrived in a village where the Maids had a duty I had not heard before: They had to guard the Wall around the Place where nothing Flourishes.

I had some trouble convincing them that it was my duty to see inside the Wall whether the place was still dangerous, or that Trees could finally be planted there. But the Maids gave us directions, and we started on our final leg.

The forest suddenly gave way. We stood in front of a dilapidated wooden palisade. The stakes were twice my own height and looked formidable, but they were rotten and there were many holes and passages.

Without hesitation I stepped through one of the holes, into the other side. For the others it was unthinkable to follow me. Even Tiffany was infected with the idea that this Place was too evil to visit.

I hugged them goodbye. Skye held me tight, not wanting me to leave.

“Why don’t you just quit, Zoë? Why do you have to carry on? Be free of concerns and happy like us,” she said.

“I can’t,” I said. I felt a pang of jealousy. I wish I could stay with the others and surrender to bliss. But somehow I felt it was my duty to find out what was out there—to protect the Forest that I lived in.

“Zoë, you know this place is forbidden for a reason,” Jill added.

“We have to know, Jill. The forest has to know. It cannot ignore this place.”

She nodded. “Every time you say that, I know it’s true, but I immediately forget.”

Now alone, I walked across the open field beyond the palisade. It felt strange, to be outside the Forest, to be in plain sight. I felt defenseless, nude for the first time in months.

The field was barren, becoming more and more scorched when I approached the centre. I remembered the myths that the Maids of the forest had told. This place was either holy or cursed, or both; neither Women nor Trees wanted to live here. As a consequence, it was not overgrown. I saw signs that the first colonists had landed here; chunks of metal buried in the sand, the remnants of a rocket exhaust, torn apart by an enormous explosion which had also glassed patches of sand, but its alloy so resistant that it had not rusted at all.

The Enclosure was big; it took an hour to reach the foot of the hill in its centre. I found a concrete bunker. It was old, eroded by eons of wind and sand. The door had disappeared; the opening was partially covered with dirt and sand, but the building was still accessible.

I lit a torch, and entered carefully. Beyond, the opening was a long corridor, partially filled with sand. I had to stoop the first yards. I eased when I went further in; after a few minutes I could walk erect. It was cold, I had goosebumps. Suddenly I stood in front of a metal door. It was closed, but by exerting a little force the latch moved and the door opened, even after 9000 years. I stepped through the door—and the lights went on.

Even the most resistant technology will finally wear out. Some of the lights did not function anymore. I found supply rooms and labs with most of their contents gone to rust or dust, suddenly interspersed with artifacts that had survived; a plastic cup, a metal casing.

I discovered a room which used to be some kind of office. A pile of plasticized print-outs were shattered on the floor; they had probably once been neatly stacked on a table which had rotten away. I picked them up and browsed through the pages.

They had been left on purpose, specifically for someone to find—for me. I started to read.

Lab journal Cara Deveraux.

Eden, day 77 after arrival.

Now that we have settled in, we can start the genetic work that was not possible on Earth. Goal; to create a sustainable society where people truly cooperate.

I recruited Valerie, Melanie, and Jillian as my core team.

There were daily entries after that, although some pages were missing. Most entries were mundane summaries of research plans and lab work, some of them descriptions of clashes with colleagues.

Eden, day 301 after arrival.

Big argument with Henry today. He maintained that we had to maintain sexual dimorphism. I pointed out that the Y-chromosome was unstable and that using only XX chromosomes would weed out Y-linked deficiencies. He is just another male-centered pig.

I smiled. I agreed with Cara—men were pigs. I missed my former crewmates like a sore tooth.

Eden, year 2, day 341 after arrival.

Kimberley reported an amazing discovery. She had been looking for male specimens of the Eden-squirrel, and she couldn’t find them. Then she found that this animal does not hatch from eggs, but from pods of a certain rare tree, which she christened Squirrel’s Tree. The two species are distinct, but they live in a symbiotic relationship. The Eden-squirrel develops safely in the tree, until it is mature. The squirrel consumes fruits from the same tree; these fruits provide the animal with everything it needs. Finally, the squirrel spreads the seeds of the tree. Kimberley had the impression that the squirrel even protects the saplings.

Kimberley pointed out the symbolism; it is an enduring symbiotic relationship of which both parties equally profit. Exactly the kind of society that we try to establish here.

I had never seen squirrels on this planet. Actually, I had never seen large animals, if you didn’t count humans. I read on.

Eden, year 2, day 383 after arrival.

Today I greenlighted project Tree of Life. We will see if we can make symbionts of the Squirrel’s tree and other animals. I tasked Denise with the legwork; she’s good at this tedious work.

Eden, year 4, day 156 after arrival.

The Tree of Life project is a success. The Tree itself grows easily in our protected fields, although it seems to be outcompeted by other species in the wild. With modern technology, we can easily modify the Tree, and bring it into symbiotic relationships with several animals, both local and imported. The difference in behaviour is striking. Rabbits who become a symbiont of the Tree will stop foraging on its stem or leaves, although they eat everything else on this planet. A symbiont dog had to be terminated, because it defended its symbiont Tree with its own life.

Eden, year 4, day 166 after arrival.

I fired Henry because he kept opposing the logical next step of the Tree of Life project.

Eden, year 6, day 383 after arrival

The first human symbiont was born (or actually hatched) today!

After this, the entries became more and more irregular.

Eden, year 7

Everybody wants to work on the Tree of Life project now. My colleagues describe the work as soothing, as if the Trees are surrounded by positive vibrations. I understand their feelings; if the lab work is tedious or frustrating, I go out to the field and look at the new saplings that emerge around the Tree.

For some reason, the women are more open to this feeling than the men, although even most of the men seem to act less competitive and more cooperative.

Eden, year 8

We also seem to have some positive influence on the Trees: The new Trees grow big edible fruits, which contain all the nutrients we need. This is more than I hoped for; humans and Trees will form a sustainable society based on symbiosis.

Eden, year 10,

We discontinued the lab work, there is need for further experiments. The Trees of life have set a clear goal for us. We started removing the vegetation around our settlement to plant more Trees.

We celebrate the arrival of new symbionts daily.

There was one final entry from Cara Deveraux.

Eden, year 18

I had all but forgotten about the lab and the ship. I have not been here for years, and there is no reason to, other than as a sentimental journey. A sentimentalism that is wasted on the new symbionts of the Forest; their bliss is just aimed at the Nirvana of here and now. We’ve come a long way, but the Trees are making us all blissfully happy. There is nothing but the Forest to live for.

The last document was a hand written addition:

Eden, year 42 after arrival(approximate).

Entry by Denise Williams, former lab assistant.

Dear reader,

I am impervious to the influence of the Trees. I do not know why, I have always been an outsider; it’s just in my genes.

The Trees are not intelligent, but somehow they control everyone. I do not understand why no one can see this—or is that part of the mind control exerted by the Trees?

I have seen the Forest growing relentlessly. The Trees sprout more humans, who immediately start to plant more Trees. A few years ago I could easily walk to the border of the Forest; now it stretches far beyond the horizon.

I am one of the last original colonists; I tried to live among the dumb bitches in the forest but I could not. At day, they’re planting Trees; at night, they’re fucking each other’s brains out.

I retreated to this abandoned bunker. I scavenged the ship and the labs for food, equipment, and documents. It took me years to execute my plan. I had to be careful to avoid suspicion—although I reckon these drones do not really notice me, as long as I do not threaten the Trees.

Today I made a final warning sign—and some retribution. I jury-rigged the old ship’s engine into a small dirty atomic bomb; it exploded an hour ago, contaminating an area of several square miles around the ship. The bunker was originally built to protect the first colonists against attacks; now it protects me against the fallout and it will protect my legacy. This spot will be hot and devoid of life—exactly what is needed to draw your attention. And it did draw your attention, because you are here reading my final notes.

Some time may have passed before you read this, maybe more than a century; I carefully printed and prepared some essential documents, just in case the computers will break down.

Dear reader, please understand what happened, and act accordingly.

Even after 9000 years I felt sorry for Denise Williams. Some disorder had prevented her from attaining the Nirvana like state associated with living in the forest. She had spent her last years at this spot in solitude; she must’ve been lonely. But her efforts had worked out. And thanks to her I fully understood what had happened here.

While I walked back to the perimeter, a new vision slowly coalesced in my mind. Everyone deserved to share in this happy symbiosis. Everyone.

We had to collect seeds of the Tree of Life, and we had to recruit a new skeleton crew for the Rodrigo de Jerez, because we would go on another voyage. A voyage longer than any Maid of the Forest had ever made. A zillion inhabited worlds were out there, and we would bring the seeds of the Tree of Life to all those worlds.

Tiffany, Jill, and Skye were waiting for me. We cuddled together. My vision had made my nipples hard and my cunt wet. The Forest rewarded me through Tiff’s fingers, Skye’s tongue, and Jill’s hugs.

Cara Deveraux changed a world, but the world was not enough. I, Zoë Kolpath, would serve the Trees of Life by changing a Universe.