The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Campfire Tales

Private Payton O’Neil jerks awake from her own scream. The soldier raises her head from a makeshift pillow; her heart pounding away at her chest. Disoriented from sleep, it takes her several seconds to realize that she’s escaped from one nightmare and awakened to another. The sky up above is a menacing pitch-black. But even in the darkness, she still senses the heat of a naked body pressing against her side. That’s when Payton notices the errant hand that’s beneath the blanket she’s sharing. A lone fingernail is slowly tracing lines from left to right in the sensitive area just below her belly button...

A sudden shiver rocks the soldier’s body and seizes her full attention.

…Dammit!

O’Neil immediately yanks off the tattered blanket and darts her angry eyes in Kendra Ford’s direction. The biker gets the message and quickly withdraws her hand from her soft underbelly...

“I’m sorry,” Kendra apologized, “I guess I couldn’t help myself.”

O’Neil emits an exasperated sigh and then gets up to stoke the dying campfire…

Kendra arches up on her elbows from her side of the makeshift bedding to ask, “So what did I do?”

Payton just shoots her a dirty look as she tosses a log onto the fire.

“…But I was getting cold!”

“Cold my ass!” O’Neil protested, “You know I don’t lean that way!”

“…I said I was sorry!”

The soldier is so upset that she actually throws the second log into the fire. The force of the impact creates a giant plume of sparks that light up the sky above.

“You don’t have to make such a big fucking deal out of it!”

O’Neil turns toward the biker with both hands firmly braced on the curves of her hips.

“Not a big deal? …Are you kidding me? …I can’t believe that with all the fucked-up shit that’s going on right now, all you can think about is sex!”

“OK —I get the point!”

“Christ; your biker friends were frozen by a U.F.O.! —Most likely the same aliens that turned my fellow comrades into mind-controlled zombies! …Doesn’t that even bother you?”

“Of course it does!”

Kendra pauses for a moment with the intention of adding more to her answer. But then she finds herself completely mesmerized by Payton’s shapely silhouette, now backlit by the campfire. The soldier’s wearing nothing more than a loose t-shirt and boxers, but she still looks hotter than hell…

“Come on,” the biker urged, “just lay back down already.”

O’Neil crosses her arms and cocks her hip to the side, as if she’s uncertain that she should...

Kendra straightens the blanket out and assures, “I promise I’ll keep my hands to myself this time.”

Payton rolls her eyes and exhales an exaggerated sigh before finally giving in. Her bare feet pad lightly across the grass and she slides in beneath the blanket in timid fashion. This time, the soldier is sure to keep her backside to the stranger…

The two lay there in awkward silence for what seems to be an eternity. The constant chirping of the surrounding crickets only adds to the growing tension…

Kendra finally breaks the silence between the two…

“You let out a scream before …Were you having another one of those dreams?”

“Maybe.”

“Care to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“Well I’m here whenever you’re ready.”

…Kendra reaches out to rub the other woman’s shoulder for a bit of reassurance, but the soldier just shrugs her off.

“Can we just forget about all the small talk for a minute?” requested O’Neil before going on to advise, “What we really need to do is hop on that bike first thing in the morning. We’ll ride into the nearest town to try ’n find a hotel. You said you have a credit card, so maybe we should try ’n pick up a cheap laptop while we’re at it…”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Kendra answered. There’s another uncomfortably long moment of silence before the biker adds a simple, “G’night, babe…”

“Yeah …Whatever.”

Although she sounded disgusted, a weary half-smile slowly spreads across the soldier’s face.

...G’night, babe … Been a long time since I’ve heard that one. How many months had it been? …Or was it years?

The Private can’t seem to recall.

…How pitiful.

As Kendra slowly dozes off beside her, Private O’Neil thinks back on the day’s events; like how they’d started off their morning by hand-picking blueberries in the meadow. The pair had worked up quite a sweat by mid-afternoon and decided to take a much-needed bath in a nearby creek. She remembers how Kendra teased her with her constant splashing and how she hadn’t laughed like that since she was a child. They went on to gather wood for this evening’s fire where they eventually shared their life stories; both the good and bad.

It amazed Payton just how easy it was to open up to this total stranger. She told the biker about the mysterious ship that came in the night; about how it overtook the National Guard Barracks with ease, and how she witnessed her comrades being converted by the green-skinned aliens. Then she spoke of killing small animals and how she’d survived in the wild by eating crickets and worms …Of how she’d slept on the dirty ground on the very few nights she’d managed to sleep at all. O’Neil silently reflects on the many times she fought back tears when re-telling it all...

…Real soldiers aren’t supposed to cry.

Private O’Neil turns over beneath the scruffy blanket and stares at the sleeping stranger. The soft glow of the fire plays across the features of Kendra’s attractive face, bringing out the richly-tanned coloring of her skin, and the telling age lines of a life lived hard. Up this close, the biker appears a little bit older but far prettier than Payton had ever realized.

O’Neal admits to herself that it’s been sort of nice having some company around for a change. And Kendra could make a good companion, even if she does have her occasional …well …tendencies. The edgy biker also comes across as being very fierce and brave —things that the soldier hadn’t felt about herself ever since that fateful night...

Private O’Neil reaches out, carefully brushing away an errant lock of hair from the biker’s face. She expels a long sigh in frustration and considers; …Maybe things would be different in another time and another place …very far, far away from here.

She falls asleep shortly thereafter…

The bells jingle as Crumb Petrie steps through the entrance door of Rhonda’s Family Diner. The morning regulars have already gathered and are seated in their usual spots all along the service counter. After a two week-long retreat in Arizona, and his much anticipated visit to the 22nd annual UFO Conference, the Vietnam Vet is glad to be home in Rossville. Crumb’s mood has been unusually upbeat ever since his return and it should be a welcome change from the grumpy old fart that he usually is...

“Hello, fellow denizens!” The man bellowed out. “I’m back from my vacation and feeling better than ever!”

Crumb smacks Jerry Smith on the shoulder, nearly causing the insurance agent to choke on his omelet. Then he grants a “Good morning, Father!” to Reverend O’Shea, (now reading his morning paper). And finally; he gives Hank the Trucker a friendly little shove before rounding the laminated counter. No one seems to acknowledge Crumb’s presence, much less bother to look in his direction…

As the vet settles down on his favorite stool, he notices an unfamiliar woman at the booth near the widow. She’s wearing a khaki trench coat, while her hosiery-sheathed legs are crossed over in a classy lady-like fashion. The attractive brunette has a side-swept hairdo, just like Diana Dors or Lauren Bacall, but with a random blonde streak running through the curl. She appears to be very anxious and jittery, alternating nervous glances between the watch on her wrist and the view out on Main Street…

...What a pretty lookin’ gal, thought the vet, while at the same time pondering, I wonder what she’s so damned nervous about?

Meanwhile, Rhonda, the diner owner, has stepped out of the kitchen. Her eyes slowly skim across the row of seated patrons, gradually settling upon the newcomer on the end. The woman glances back towards the kitchen area, giving her husband a knowing nod, before walking off in the customer’s direction…

The sound of approaching footsteps draws Crumb’s attention away from the beauty at the window. He turns and greets, “Rhonda, my dear; it’s so great to see you again!”

“Hello, Mr. Petrie,” the woman replied in a rather flat, unemotional voice. She withdraws a pencil from her apron and presses it to her pad before asking, “What will it be this morning?”

…Crumb immediately twists his sixty four-year-old mug into a peculiar expression.

“I’ve been coming in here every morning for the last twenty-some years. And every one of those mornings, I’ve ordered the same damned thing: one cup of black coffee with three sugars, and a slice of your infamous homemade apple pie. Now why on earth would today be any different?”

It’s only at this point that the old timer finally notices the peculiar-looking pods that are covering the woman’s ears. They look sleek and stylish, with little green LED lights blinking on their sides…

“…And what in god’s name are those blinking things on your head?”

Rhonda scribbles the order down on a notepad, never breaking eye contact with the man. Her eyes look glassy and dazed and there are dark circles underneath them. It looks like she hasn’t slept in days...

“Will that be all, sir?”

“Sir?” the old man teased, “When did you start being polite?”

…Rhonda just rips the order off the notepad and gives her patron a bothered look.

“One black coffee and a slice of apple pie, coming right up…”

The woman slowly turns and walks away, never answering Crumb Petrie’s initial question…

The old man shrugs his shoulders and turns to Hank the Trucker to ask, “Was it something I said?”

…To his surprise, Hank also has a set of the blinking pods on his ears. The Reverend and Jerry Smith are wearing them as well.

“You guys, too?”

Hank continues to stare at his plate and replies, “There have been a couple changes in town since you left, Crumb.”

“I guess so!” the vet responds. “I’m gone for two whole weeks and I comeback to a bunch of zombies with blinking pods on their heads!”

This last remark piques some ears, causing the other regulars to turn their heads in Mr. Petrie’s direction. That’s when Jerry Smith comments, “Maybe you’ll have a chance to get your own, Crumb.”

“It’s her will,” the Reverend enforced from beside him.

Crumb furrows an eyebrow at their strange comments.

…Just what in the hell is going on around here?

The old man’s attention is suddenly drawn back to the woman at the window. One of her polished black mules is now dancing on the tip of her toes, as she nervously bounces her crossed leg. There’s a rather plump-looking waitress trying to refill her mug. It’s an employee that Crumb has never seen before and she’s wearing a set of the strange looking ear pods as well...

“You haven’t even touched your green tea, my dear,” the waitress observed before lifting the mug. “…And it’s gone cold already! Let me fetch you another cup.”

“Oh, no thank you,” the brunette replied with a polite smile. “I really should be—“

“Ohhh, but I insist!”

As the waitress turns on a heel and marches back towards the kitchen, the brunette quickly tries to appeal, “That’s ok, ma’am! …Ma’am?”

…Well shoot!

The brunette’s desperate pleas seem to fall on deaf ears. That’s when she happens to make eye contact with Crumb Petrie from across the room. The pair shares a brief moment of connection, much like a pair of strangers exchanging glances in a smoke-filled bar. The woman reaches for her purse and starts rummaging through it…

Rhonda returns with Petrie’s hot coffee in one hand, and a slice of pie in the other. She places the pie off to the side and sets the steaming mug directly in front of the vet. She then asks in a dull voice, “Will that be all, sir?”

Crumb shakes his thumb over his shoulder and inquires, “What happened to Cassie?”

Rhonda pauses for a moment, as if wisely choosing her words…

Hank the trucker is quick to provide, “Cassie’s gone back to college.”

Crumb cocks his head in suspicion and probes, “Just like that? …In a period of two weeks?”

“Yes, that’s it,” Rhonda enforced. “My niece; she’d been planning to go back to school for quite some time. Maybe she just forgot to tell you.”

From out of the corner of his eye, Crumb notices the brunette getting up from the booth. The new waitress is already rushing towards her with a fresh cup of tea…

“No really; I have to be going!” the brunette repeated before side stepping the waitress to head in Petrie’s direction. As she passes his stool, the woman leans in close to the old man and discretely whispers, “Watch your back!” …Never missing a step, she tucks a note into the front pocket of his flannel shirt and then heads for the door. The plump waitress is trailing closely behind...

“You forgot your tea, ma’am! …I-I made it fresh for you! …Ma’am? —Ma’am!”

The brunette quickly exits the diner and the persistent waitress nearly crashes into the closing glass door right behind her…

Rhonda flashes an expressive glance at Jerry Smith. The insurance salesman returns a nod before wiping his mouth off on his napkin. He gets up from his stool and starts walking towards the door, as if he’s about to pursue…

Meanwhile, Crumb Petrie has withdrawn the folded square of paper and studies it within the tips of his fingers.

Rhonda turns back in Petrie’s direction and observes the folded note. “Well?” she asked with a look of suspicion.

“Well what?”

“Are you going to open it, or not?”

Hank the trucker warns, “Better be careful of who you side with, Crumb.”

“All will serve her,” repeated the Reverend.

Crumb Petrie gives them all a distrustful look before slowly unfolding the note. A look of surprise begins to spread across the old man’s face as he reads it to himself:

There’s something very strange going on in this town and we need to stick together! We are not alone! You can find me over on alienwatch.net!

- Blair

P.S. Don’t drink your coffee, I think it’s drugged!

Crumb glances up at the steaming coffee in front of him. Rhonda pushes the mug even closer and urges, “Your coffee is going to get cold, Mr. Petrie.”

…The new waitress steps into his peripheral view for reinforcement. With a cold expression she promises, “It’s black and fresh, just the way you like it, sir.”

Sensing that it’s time to leave, Petrie starts to get up from his stool. Hank grabs hold of his wrist and says, “Why don’t you hand me that note, Crumb.”

The vet pries Hank’s hand off from his wrist and starts walking towards the door. The rest of the patrons turn in the man’s direction and start to pursue.

“Where do you think you’re going, Mr. Petrie?” Rhonda questioned from behind him.

“You’re either with us or against us, Crumb!” taunted the trucker.

“Sooner or later, all will serve the queen,” extolled the Reverend.

“But you forgot your coffee!” yelled the waitress.

Fearing for his life, Crumb suddenly breaks into a sprint towards his only exit. He yanks the door wide with the jingling bells warning of his probable escape.

Somebody shouts “He’s getting away!” as the door closes behind him.

Just outside, Crumb Petrie starts his truck and slams it into gear. He guns the motor and sails across Rhonda’s parking lot, kicking up a rooster tail of swirling dust and loose gravel. His pursuers jam up inside the door frame with their hands now squished against the glass surface of the door. They will remain there, much like obedient pets awaiting their master’s return, long after Petrie has disappeared from view…

Private Payton O’Neil sits cross-legged on her bed, staring into the screen of a newly opened laptop. The soldier’s face is freshly scrubbed, while her damp hair smells of coconut scented conditioner. A large bath towel is still wrapped around her refreshed body. Payton’s hour-long shower was the first she’d had in over four months and it nearly rivaled the mug of steaming coffee now gripped within her hands.

She and Kendra Ford had abandoned the campsite and ridden into a place called Rossville at about 10am. They were riding around the sleepy little town and just scoping things out when they drew the attention of a passing trooper. He gave the pair a suspicious look and proceeded to follow them; his sleek ear buds buzzing away and planting suggestions inside his head. As the morning progressed, the couple drew even more suspicious glances from numerous townsfolk. Quite a few of them had the same mysterious pods covering their own ears…

By noon, the pair had stocked-up on necessities and even managed to purchase a cheap laptop. They eventually settled in at one of those rinky-dink, non-chain type hotels just outside of Rossville. The ‘Del Ray’ would be close enough to get into town for supplies, yet far enough away from the prying eyes and ears of the locals...

Or so they hope.

Private O’Neil sets her mug off to the side for a moment to type another phrase into her search bar:

> military – base – mind—control

The soldier picks her mug back up and takes a long sip, while her eyes scan through another set of results…

In the background, a bathroom door opens with a sudden whoosh. A very naked Kendra Ford emerges from the rolling steam with a bath towel draped across her shoulders...

“Found a signal, eh?” the biker observed before rubbing the wetness out of her long dark hair.

“Yeah; that truck stop just up the highway has Wi-Fi.”

“Having any luck?”

“Nothing worth mentioning,” O’Neil said while scrolling down her screen.

The soldier raises her mug and takes another sip of her coffee. As she does so, she just happens to glance at the wall-mounted mirror that’s just across from her bed. In the reflection, Kendra has turned her back to her and she’s toweling off the sculpted calves of her long legs…

O’Neil secretly appraises the biker’s bent posterior before quickly looking away. She types in another search term:

> ass

-Woops! …(quickly taps backspace button).

> MASS—mind—control

Private O’Neil shakes her head, somewhat amused by the curious slip. She starts scanning through the latest search results, but the focus of her attention gradually shifts back over to the naked image in the mirror. The biker turns around in the reflection, combing out her damp hair as she casually approaches the bed. O’Neil notices the vague, bikini-like patch of unexposed skin, and the slight contrast it makes in relation to the rest of her sun-kissed body…

…She must go in the nude sometimes to get an even tan like that.

…O’Neil is so caught up in the moment that she doesn’t even notice Kendra staring back at her in the reflection. Their eyes suddenly meet, (if only for a brief moment), and the soldier suddenly feels a little curl of excitement release from somewhere deep inside. Her cheeks redden and she quickly looks away in embarrassment…

Kendra smiles in acknowledgement.

…Hmm; and what was that look for? …Is someone a little more bi-curious than she wants me to believe?

The randy biker can only hope so.

Kendra sits down on the bed directly behind Payton so that her unfurling legs frame O’Neil. She leans in close and peers over the soldier’s shoulder to see the latest results…

“Still nothing? …Maybe you should try something like: mass disappearance Hog Fest.”

O’Neil can feel the soft weight of the biker’s breasts lightly pressing into her back. And with every word spoken, the woman’s hot breath had danced across that oh-so-tender spot just behind her ear. The Private suddenly finds a need to clear her throat...

“Ah-hem … I, um … I already tried that,” replied the nervous soldier. “In fact: the Hog Fest website is now 404.”

“Well that’s kinda’ peculiar,” Kendra said with a suspicious look, “…Especially since it’s supposed to go-on all weekend long.”

As O’Neil scrolls down through another screen, Kendra reaches up and starts to casually brush the woman’s hair. The bashful soldier flinches at the unexpected contact. But with every new brush stroke, she relaxes deeper and deeper, gradually succumbing to the comfortable feeling of the hundreds of bristles gently dragging over her head.

…Mmmm, she silently thought to herself before lidding her eyes.

“You look very tense,” the biker whispered from somewhere beyond.

“Yeah…well —heh!”

Kendra sets the brush down and casually reaches in to withdraw the fold in Payton’s towel. She allows one half to fall away from the other and begins to massage the woman’s bare shoulders...

O’Neil arches her back underneath the pressure and once again relaxes into the calming ministrations of the biker’s hands. And as the soldier sinks deeper and deeper, she’s constantly reminded of the gentle crush of Kendra’s bra-less chest and the two sharp points eagerly poking at her skin. Before long, the woman starts kneading circles into the small of her back, occasionally changing it up by scratching small circular patterns into her skin with the very tips of her nails. And with every new pass, Kendra’s fingertips explore further and further downward, until they slow just above the rise of the soldier’s hips…

Kendra leans over one shoulder and plants a soft kiss on the nape of O’Neil’s neck, then gently grazes her teeth across the other woman’s skin. The soldier expels a deep sigh and tilts her head off to the side, allowing her a little more access…

The biker raises an eyebrow and decides to explore even further. She casually reaches around and cups O’Neil’s breasts, massaging them tenderly until her swollen nipples burn into her palms. Kendra nuzzles her ear and hotly whispers, “Do you want me?”

O’Neil can only manage a soft whimper.

Kendra tugs at the woman’s swelling nipples with a noted urgency and repeats —no, make that growls, “I SAID —Do you want me?”

…The arching motions of her body and the soldier’s heavier breathing suggest that she’s just about to cave. But then, in an unexpected moment of clarity; O’Neil seems to snap out of her sex-induced haze and reconsiders the consequences. Without any further thought, she swats the biker’s hands away and quickly gathers up her towel in embarrassment…

“I’m sorry, but I just can’t...”

Kendra locks in place, her eyebrows now furrowing in confusion. The humiliated biker presses, “Are you fucking serious?”

Her back still turned, O’Neil continues to redden with shame. “I-I-I just can’t do it!”

Kendra makes a disgusted sound and launches herself up from the bed. She angrily mumbles, “You little fucking cunt tease …THAT’S JUST BULLSHIT!” …The insulted woman then stomps across the room and wrenches back the covers on her own bed…

A sincere Payton turns around to apologize, “I’m so sorry, Kendra, I really am!”

“Forget it.”

“I really think you’re great and all, but—”

“I said forget it!”

Kendra yanks the covers over herself and expels a dramatic sigh in disappointment. When O’Neil attempts to further explain her actions, the biker passionately fires, “Why don’t you do me a huge favor; just stick to saving the fucking world and stay the hell away from me! …I’ve always been better off on my own anyway!”

And with that said, Kendra reaches for the nightstand to turn off the light. (She will end up tossing and turning —in aggravated silence— for over an hour before finally dozing off to sleep). On the other side of the room, Private O’Neil sniffles and wipes away the tears that have been welling-up in her eyes. After a long silence, she reluctantly raises her head and slowly types in another search word…

The tires on Crumb Petrie’s truck come squealing around a corner. After a few sharp turns of the steering wheel, he manages to maneuver his way up his twisty driveway, (a design specifically chosen to warn of the approach of any unwanted company). The truck has barely come to a sliding stop when the old man is already pushing the squeaky door open. He jumps out of the vehicle and quickly makes his way to the front door. Once inside, the paranoid vet double checks all of the locks and then pulls down all of the shades. When the final one is drawn, he turns and makes a b-line for the gun cabinet…

Petrie unlocks the door and scans the assortment of weapons. He decides on a trusty shotgun and then grabs a box of shells. Once loaded, he reaches for a .357 Magnum and does the same. By now, the old man is breathing so heavily that his heartbeat is literally pulsing within his eyes. He buckles over and braces his hands above his knees…

“I knew they’d be coming! …Those god damned sons-a-bitches will have to pry this here pistol outta my cold dead hands, before I’ll ever surrender!”

Petrie nearly hacks-up a lung trying to catch his breath. In between coughs and wheezes, he tries to take further stock of the situation:

…I got plenty of ammo; 110 gallons of fuel for the generator; two-way radios and enough provisions in the shelter to last me six, maybe even seven months …

The vet then turns and looks at the laptop sitting idle on the desk in the corner.

…I also got the internet and a whole network of diehards that are just as prepared for them alien fucks as I am!

Before long, Petrie has killed all of the lights in the house. The glow of his computer monitor is now the only source of light. He keys in a few unbreakable passwords and eventually types his way to a website called alienwatch.net. He wouldn’t have a legitimate reason to leave the safety of his home for the next five days…

It’s five AM and the sun is just beginning to lighten the horizon. Private Payton O’Neal is about to throw in the towel when she comes across a rather peculiar heading:

“Sleepless in Rossville KS”

It’s posted on a website called alienwatch.net. At first, the weary soldier can’t help but chuckle at the thought of such a hokey message board. But then she starts to read the series of posts beneath it:

nosleep:

Am I the only one that sees something strange going on here?

namvet67’:

you’re not alone.

Badapple:

Me too. I’m a teacher here. Something is definitely wrong.

nosleep:

what should we do?

Badapple:

I’m not sure if there is anything we can do.

nosleep:

I think the local gov’t and the police are in on this…

namvet67’:

I know they are. They infiltrated local TV and radio too.

Badapple:

They all seem to be wearing those creepy ear pods!

nosleep:

who infiltrated?

Badapple:

whatever is taking over our precious little town!

nosleep:

don’t you mean whoever?

Even though the last post was several hours ago, Private O’Neal can’t seem to register fast enough. She joins the forum and immediately creates the username ‘shygurl’ to make her first post…

shygurl:

There is something going on. I saw it myself!

…Five minutes pass, then another ten. For nearly an hour, Payton just sits there staring at the screen with anticipation. Her head starts to tilt lower and she’s starting to nod off when a reply finally pops up on the screen:

namvet67’:

Welcome aboard, shygurl. Now what did you see?

…O’Neil snaps out of her stupor and scrambles for the keyboard.

shygurl:

Something attacked the National Guard base!

namvet67’:

What National Guard base?

shygurl:

The base out on U.S. 75. I was stationed there.

namvet67’:

They attacked the base? This is the first I heard of it!

shygurl:

More like overran it. We didn’t stand a chance...

namvet67’:

were there any casualties?

shygurl:

I think they got everyone on base.

namvet67’:

Got them how???

shygurl:

everyone seemed in a trance. I think it was mind control.

namvet67’:

I knew it had to be mind control! The military too!—Christ!

shygurl:

there’s more.

namvet67’:

there is?

shygurl:

my friend was at a motorcycle event they call Hog Fest.

namvet67’:

yes, I’ve heard of it. Go on.

shygurl:

There was a brilliant light that came out of the sky.

Namvet67’:

a brilliant light? You mean like a light ray?

shygurl:

More like a rolling wave. It froze everyone in its path.

namvet67’:

froze them how? Like as in suspended animation?

shygurl:

Yes, like they were in some kind of stasis or something.

namvet67’:

oh shit

Badapple:

hey, Badapple here. So how did you escape?

shygurl:

they – it chased me from the base. I hid in the woods.

namvet67’:

what chased you, a ship? Like a U.F.O. type ship?

shygurl:

yes. It was HUGE! Loud and rumbling with blinking lights.

Badapple:

OMG!!!!

shygurl:

I think it’s the same ship that attacked the biker rally.

namvet67’:

or another just like it.

Badapple:

they seriously have ships? Lord help us…

nosleep:

I couldn’t sleep. What’s this about ships? Where r u now?

namvet67’:

don’t give out your location! They might be reading this.

nosleep:

oh, sorry. But maybe we should all meet up somewhere.

Badapple:

I don’t know if I’d feel safe meeting up.

nosleep:

how come?

Badapple:

I think someone has been following me around as it is.

shygurl:

some cop followed us around town yesterday morning…

nosleep:

why did he follow u around?

shygurl:

don’t know, but he had those weird caps over his ears.

nosleep:

they’re called ENTRANZ. They’re selling them everywhere.

Badapple:

I think that’s how they control you.

namvet67’:

ok, ok. I’ll come up with a safe place to meet up at.

nosleep:

like where?

namvet67’:

I’ll need some time to think about it.

Badapple:

but how will we know the time and location?

nosleep:

yeah, more details please…

namvet67’:

Let’s all meet up on here tomorrow—same time.

shygurl:

sounds good.

namvet67’:

Until then, stay safe and watch your back, people!

…And with that; everyone grants each other a goodnight. O’Neil herself rubs her weary eyes and then closes her laptop. She massages the numbness out of her legs and stretches her arms a bit before getting up from the bed. As she does, a sudden chill shakes her body…

…Ooh! …When did it get so cold in here?

O’Neil approaches her roommate, who lay sleeping in her own bed for several hours now. The soldier gently sits on the edge of the mattress and takes a moment to study the dreaming biker, who is curled-up in a fetal position. The hardened biker looks so serene just lying there with her head comfortably nestled within the crook of an elbow. O’Neil is compelled to reach over and brush the hollow of her cheek with the backs of her fingers. Kendra twitches and stirs at the delicate touch. Her eyes start to flutter awake, but then she just turns her body upright and dazedly lolls her head over in the opposite direction.

O’Neil’s breath had caught in her throat. She remains paused in place just above her friend, patiently waiting for her to drift back into sleep. When Kendra had moved, she pulled the sheets back along with her, unknowingly exposing her breasts. Now the soldier just stares intently, watching each slanted globe slowly rise and fall with every new breath. Both are capped with a dusky nipple now peaking in the cool morning air…

O’Neil bites down on her lower lip with indecision.

…Well it is sort of drafty in here…

The soldier waits a moment longer. But then her pensive expression slowly morphs into a sort of mischievous smile. She undoes her bath towel, letting it fall to the floor, and then reaches down to pull back the covers. She slides herself in and pulls the covers back, before wiggling her bare bottom up against the curve of Kendra’s thigh. It is here; nestled beneath the warmth of the sheets and in the company of her newfound friend that O’Neil finally manages to fall asleep…