The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The Harvesters — Chapter 5.1: The Town Hall Incident

* * *

Alien forces attempt to overrun the town hall, in order to take control the local government.

* * *

In the heart of “downtown” Rossville, there’s a quaint little place called Rhonda’s. It’s your typical small-town dinner with that quirky “retro” look. There’s the laminated green counter that’s immediately on the left, just as you walk inside. A dozen well-worn and patched-up bar stools line the counter’s L-shaped parameter. The walls are covered with a mish-mash of decorations that attempt to humor the patrons, such as the sign that says “No whining allowed!” or another that states, “Eat here and the gas is free!” …There are yellowing newspaper clippings of local milestones, along with Polaroid’s of a few regulars from over the years. Just behind the register is a framed black and white print of a much younger version of Rhonda. Judging by her smooth complexion and the beehive hairdo, the picture dates all the way back to the sixties.

It’s just another Friday morning, and the early birds have already gathered inside for their daily routines. The true regulars have even taken up their rightful spots all along the counter. There’s Jerry Smith on the left, having his cheese omelet and raspberry jam on rye. Right beside him, Hank the trucker is finishing up the last of his pancakes and sausage. Next is Reverend O’Shea, whom scans the local paper with Danish in one hand, and a cup of tea in the other. And then down at the far end of the counter and seated all alone, is none other than Crumb Petrie; the town philosopher and well-known skeptic. The disgruntled vet alternates sips off his coffee with deep drags from his cigarette.

The bells above the entrance door suddenly jingle, as an elderly couple walk in. The pair slowly creeps across the floor towards their favorite booth, which overlooks Main Street. Behind the service counter is a perky-breasted waitress with a pretty face and a friendly demeanor. The nineteen-year-old is texting away on her phone, completely oblivious to her surroundings.

Rhonda makes a quick whistling sound at her niece in an effort to get her attention. When the young woman looks up from her phone, the proprietor nods her head in the elderly couple’s direction. The women is quick to scold, “Time to get to work, Cassie; you can play with that on yer own watch!”

The pony-tailed Cassandra quickly gathers herself up, before walking at a fast pace towards the couple’s table. She greets them with her notepad in hand and a ready smile…

From behind the counter, Rhonda scowls a comment at her male customers. “She might be my only niece, but I still got a business to run!”

With the exception of the reverend, all of those at the counter look up from their plates. They casually turn their heads to catch a glimpse of Cassie’s swaying backside, as she walks on by. Her trim young frame and sculpted curves always evoke appreciative smiles and plenty of good tips from Rhonda’s male customers…

Back in the kitchen, Rhonda’s third husband “Mel” is cooking up some sausage on the grill. In the background, the early morning news has just come on the television, and the local anchor is reporting the first of the day’s headlines. The burly cook butts-out his cigarette and reaches for the remote. He aims the controller up at the TV in the corner and orders, “Keep it down for a minute! …I’d sorta like to hear this…”

One by one, the diners turn their heads away from Cassie’s figure, to focus their attention on the morning news…

A male news anchor reports, “State police officials have announced that they’ve yet to find any evidence of the two missing college students that disappeared back on April 4th. We now take you live to Olivia Munson, who’s reporting from the state police barracks over in Shawnee County. …Olivia?”

A beautifully made-up reporter that’s wearing a sharp blue suit suddenly appears on the screen. The chipper brunette takes her cue and flashes her brilliant smile at the camera…

“Yes Ted; I’m over here at the state police barracks, where Police Chief Rupert Mount is just reporting for duty!”

The determined reporter walks forward at a brisk pace, with her heeled pumps click-clacking away noisily across the concrete. (The view on the screen jostles around a bit, as Olivia’s cameraman and sound crew hustle to keep up). The correspondent steps directly in front of the police chief, effectively blocking him from opening the door to the station…

With her microphone practically jammed in the officer’s face, the resolute reporter questions, “Chief Mount, are there any new leads into the disappearances of Brett Johnson and Pamela Andrews?”

The police chief turns to the reporter with a muddled look. The odd-looking ear pieces on his head suddenly blink red and emit a low-frequency beep. The chief immediately pauses in place. His eyes begin to glaze over, as his shoulders drop slack. The man’s confused expression slowly transforms into one of confidence…

As if he were reading his response from an unseen cue-card, the chief goes on to explain in a rather unusual monotone voice, “We have stepped up efforts in the Johnson/Andrews case. We have several leads that we are following, but I must remind you that this is still a very active case. If we have any new information, we will be sure to let you folks know…”

The chief turns to reach for the door, but the reporter continues to inquire, “What is your response to those saying that the Kansas State Police are merely dragging their feet with this case?”

The chief politely responds, “Again; we are doing the best that we can.”

Once again, the persistent reporter questions, “Is there any truth to the rumor that they ran off to Mexico?”

“That is just one of the many possibilities that we are currently looking into. …Now if you’ll please excuse me, I do have a job to do.”

The reporter presses one last time, “Is there any possible connection to the recent and unaccountable disappearances of the two security guards?”

The chief’s earpieces flash red and beep once again. His body seems to tense up, just as he’s reaching for the door. The cute reporter grabs hold his wrist, and a sharp jolt of energy immediately bolts through her body. Olivia lets out a brief “gasp” as the powerful current locks her body in place. With her eyes now locked onto his, the intrusive woman suddenly has no will to move…

Chief Mount flashes a fake smile and pierces the woman eyes with an invasive stare. “Like I told you before, Ms.; …I have a job to do. Now if you’ll excuse me…”

Olivia doesn’t offer a reply. She simply remains frozen in place, staring dazedly into the police chief’s eyes. When the man forcefully removes her grip from his wrist, her arm remains outstretched—her hand seemingly reaching for air.

The police chief tips his hat in courtesy, before brushing past the bedazzled woman. A moment later, he’s locked the station door behind him…

One of the nearby sound men quickly rushes to the woman’s aide. He grabs the reporter by the arm and gives it a good shake...

“Olivia, are you ok?”

…The reporter doesn’t respond at first, because for now; everything is blue skies and puffy clouds for her.

The soundman repeatedly waves a hand through the woman’s line of sight, but she remains silent...

“Olivia, can you hear me?”

…Olivia finally blinks her eyes a few times and seems to snap out of it. She shakes off the strange after effects and attempts to gather herself together. It’s almost as if she’s just awakened from the most pleasant of dreams, and whatever she was thinking of beforehand, has simply drifted away.

“Uh…yeah… um… (Now rubbing her forehead repeatedly) …I-I think I’m fine …W-what just happened?”

One of the soundmen explains, “For a minute there, you sort of tensed up in place and just stood there zoned out! …I tried to snap you out of it, but you were completely unresponsive.”

“W-well the last thing I remember; I-I was …well gosh; …I really don’t remember what I was doing!”

…The camera lingers on the confused reporter for just a moment longer, before a wise technician decides to cut back to the news anchor at the studio…

“Ah, well it appears that Olivia is experiencing some technical difficulties …In other news, President Obama warns that if—”

Back at Rhonda’s, a confused group of diners turn their attention away from the television up in the corner…

Hank the trucker blurts, “What in the hell —Err excuse me Reverend …In the heck was that all about?”

Jerry Smith swallows the last of his cheese omelet and replies, “…And what were those weird looking caps on the sides of the chief’s ears?”

The reverend ads, “That man had the look of the devil in his eyes!”

From down at the corner of the counter, Crumb Petrie lights up another cigarette and takes a deep drag. With smoke still rolling off of his lips, the Vietnam Vet goes on to offer, “I’ll tell you what was, folks. …It’s goddamned mind control!”

The others at the counter give the vet a series of doubtful looks. Even Rhonda herself gets in on the absurd conversation.

“You’re not going to go off on another one of your rants about mind control, aliens and the Bermuda Triangle, are you?”

…The rest of the group rolls their eyes at the mere thought of it.

“Sure, just go ahead and laugh,” retorted the former soldier. “But think back to that ship that I saw creeping over the courthouse back in February.”

A doubtful “sheesh” is followed by several oh brothers as the rest of the diners shake their heads and return to finishing their meals.

“You’ll see,” warned the seasoned veteran. “When you wake up in the middle of the night, and there’s some four foot alien trying to stick a metal probe where the sun doesn’t shine, then you’ll know!”

Rhonda cautions, “Now reverend, I hope you’ll forgive me for what I’m about to say.”… (The minister nods his head, as if granting her permission) …She then turns toward Crumb Petrie down on the end and confesses, “Now I’ve been with six different men in my fifty two years —been married to three of ’em. Not a one of ’em has ever been in my holiest of holies, and I do pity the little bug-eyed space-man that tries to stick somethin’ up there!”

As the reverend cringes, Mel is heard to mumble, “Aint that the honest truth.”

Rhonda continues, “…And they’ll have to pry my loaded .38 from my cold dead hand, before they’ll be able to drag me off into their little spaceship!”

Just then, the spirited conversation is interrupted by the jingling bells on the entrance door. In walks a lovely blonde in her crisp, navy blue police uniform. It’s Officer Kelly Ripper, who’s out on her early-morning patrol.

The woman is met with a big hug and a “Hi there Kell!” from Rhonda herself. The greeting is followed by a series of masculine “hellos” and “good mornings” from the rest of the seated diners.

The vibrant blonde emits a cheerful, “How ya’ll doin’ this mornin’!” …Just a second later, she’s removing her hat and taking her regular seat at the counter.

Seated just beside her, the reverend looks over and says, “She’s got some fresh Danish this morning.”

“That’s ok, reverend,” the woman replied before patting a hand against her flat tummy. There’s a muffled sound of a firm “thud” before the officer announces, “Been tryin’ to watch my figure.”

“Like there aint enough men keepin’ an eye on it already!” Rhonda teased, giving her a playful nudge. She goes on to ask, “So what’ll it be, hun?”

“How ’bout a small coffee with two sugars and one cream, please.”

“You got it, sweetie!”

Kelly turns and greets the other diners by name. When she finally gets to Crumb Petrie, (now choking on his cigarette smoke), the deputy says, “Those things are going to kill ya’ someday, Mr. Petrie.”

In his smoke-tinged raspy voice, Petrie returns, “I’ll tell ya’ what’s gonna kill me… these goddamned aliens!”

Officer Ripper tries to hold back a smile. “You been seeing aliens again, Mr. Petrie?”

Ole Crum Petrie shifts within his seat and spouts, “I’ll tell you what; you got two missin’ kids on your hands, the security guards, a VPS delivery driver, and to top it all off; you have a bunch a state police that don’t seem ta’ give a damn!”

“So you think some aliens came all the way across the galaxy to lil’ ole Shawnee County, just to abduct those folks?”

“Well it seems like quite a coincidence, doesn’t it?”

“Hmm, I don’t think that the sheriff ever considered the possibility, but I’ll certainly pass it by him.”

“…And what’s with those little silver things that were covering the Police Chief’s ears?”

“I think those are some new, high-tech communications device that the State Troopers are trying out. The big departments always get the latest toys, while we end up with all the hand-me-downs.”

Rhonda returns to the counter and serves Kelly with a small coffee and complimentary Danish. The officer attempts to refuse the pastry, but the owner insists she eat it. “I have some fresh apple-pie baking in the oven too, dear…”

Officer Ripper expresses a grateful, “Well I thank you kindly, ma’am.” …The woman smiles at the unexpected surprise before her. Unfortunately, she only manages to take a single bite from her Danish, when the radio goes off at her side…

SSSKRSHTT —“Officer Ripper, do you read me?”

…The startled woman quickly chews up her pastry in an attempt to clear her throat. She barely unlatches her radio when it crackles to life a second time.

SSSKRSHTT —“Officer Ripper, do you copy me? This is an emergency!”

…Kelly raises her radio to her ear with a noted sense of urgency.

SSSKRSHTT —“This is Ripper reading you loud and clear, sheriff!”

SSSKRSHTT —“It appears that there’s been another abduction!”

…A series of gasps quickly erupt from the surrounding diners, as Officer Ripper’s delighted expression turns serious.

SSSKRSHTT —“Another abduction, sir? …WHO? …WHERE?”

SSSKRSHTT —“Just meet me over at city hall and on the double!”

SSSKRSHTT —“I’m on my way, sheriff!”

The officer jumps up from stool, tugs her police cap over her blonde hair and bolts for the exit. As she swings the jingling door open she yells, “I’ll catch-up with you later on that apple-pie, Rhonda!”

By the time the proprietor responds, “I’ll be sure to save you a slice!”—Officer Ripper is already slamming the door on her police cruiser. With a twist of the ignition key, she guns the Ford and tears out of the parking lot—sending loose gravel flying everywhere. With its siren wailing, the black and white sedan disappears into a cloud of dust just seconds later…

Rhonda turns to her patrons and says, “My goodness; …another abduction? What is this world coming too?”

From down on the end, Crumb Petrie blows a smoke cloud off into the air and offers, “The world is getting overrun by goddamned aliens, that’s what it’s coming to!”

* * *

Just twenty minutes ago:

Sheriff Franklin jogs up the steps of town hall, enters the building, and then rushes his way up to the second floor. The mayor hadn’t mentioned what the emergency was all about, but then again; it wasn’t often that he made a distress call directly to the sheriff. Nearly out of breath, the two-hundred-ninety-pound man expels a loud gasp when finally reaching the last step. The overweight constable shoulders one of the glass doors open and rushes inside…

Once Sheriff Franklin enters the government wing, he’s greeted by an older lady that’s seated at her desk. The woman is attired in a rather plain-looking skirt and a frilly white blouse. The sixty-ish widow is the head receptionist, and has been a town hall staple for over three decades…

“Well good mornin’ sheriff!” greets the usually reserved woman. She quickly primps her graying hair before asking, “What brings such a fine man to my neck of the woods?”

Now completely out of breath, Sheriff Franklin gulps for air. His sizeable belly expands and contracts, as the man quickly surveys the busy office. There are a few town council members milling about the room, while the attractive secretaries remain seated at their desks. A stern-faced security guard stands in the far corner and tries his best to look awake.

An exhausted Franklin leans forward to brace his arms against his knees. After taking several deep breaths the sheriff finally manages to return, “Uh…hey there Martha, (panting heavily)…Is everythin’ ok with the mayor?”

Martha replies, “As far as I know, sheriff…He came in fifteen minutes early this morning, just like he always does! …Why do you ask?”

The exhausted sheriff waves off her question as he continues to struggle for air. “Cause I…I jest got a call from him …Thought maybe…maybe thars some sort of trouble, thasss all.”

The woman shows a look of slight confusion and confesses, “Not that I’m particularly aware of, sheriff.”

Franklin is quick to apologize. “Well in that case, I’m so sorry fer tha’ bother, ma’am.” The sheriff then tips his hat and says, “Ya’ll have a good day.”

As the man walks off towards the mayor’s office, the woman adoringly replies, “Oh, it’s no problem, sheriff; no problem at all!”

…But Martha’s comment falls on deaf ears. Seated just a dozen feet behind the older woman, is a chesty young female in a white-and-flower-print sun dress. Jennifer Harper is the mayor’s personal assistant, who’s very easy on the eyes and always quick with a wise-crack. She spends her workdays advising the mayor on what to wear, along with making his personal appointments and occasionally running his errands. Jennifer’s friendly demeanor and good looks ensure that she’s well-paid for her efforts…

Sheriff Franklin approaches Jennifer’s desk with rosy cheeks. He quickly removes his hat to wipe the sweat from his brow, while also trying to look calm…

“Err…hello thar, Miss Jennifer.”

The twenty-something assistant doesn’t need to look up from painting her nails to notice that the man is short of breath.

“Now how are ya’ supposed to catch a crook, if ya’ll are out o’ breath after two flights of stairs?”

Totally embarrassed, the sheriff flashes an awkward smile, before parking himself on the end of Jennifer’s desk. It’s a sly move that not only gives his tired body a rest, but offers him a better view of the assistant’s curves—which up until now, had been mostly hidden behind her desk.

Just down the aisle, Martha glances up from her work momentarily. The older woman looks over her shoulder with a bothered expression, as she already knows just what the sheriff is up to…

…Damned pervert.

Sheriff Franklin flirts, “So I see ya’ll got yer hair all done up nice n’ purdy today, Miss Jennifer.”

Jennifer flashes her perfect smile and replies in her thick Kansan drawl, “Well thank yeew sheriff! …What a nice thang ta’ say to a gal.” …The woman playfully brushes back one of the ringlets that hangs down from her stacked hair, before returning her focus to her nails.

Sheriff Franklin admires Jennifer’s adorable face and swan-like neck. A moment later, the man smiles to himself, as his eyes wander even further downward to blatantly stare at the young woman’s abundant cleavage. The lawman praises, “That sure is a mighty fine dress ya’ll is wearin’ today.”

“Why thank yeew again, sheriff.” …Jennifer can’t help but crack a knowing smile, as she knows she’s still being stared at.

“Did ya’ll find ya’self a good man yet?”

Jennifer’s expression quickly turns sour. What goes on in her private life is surely none of the sheriff’s business, and the woman isn’t shy about getting the point across. The assistant sharply answers, “We’ll in fact I haven’t, sheriff … But if ya’ll happen to come across such a man in this here town, ya’ll be sure to let me know.”

The sheriff gets a dejected look. He tries to come up with a good comeback, but the mayor opens the door to his office to save the day…

“Everett; get your ass in here!”

Once again the sheriff tips his hat and starts to mumble, “I guess we’ll jest have ta’ continue this conversation at another time, Miss Jennifer…”

That’s when the mayor orders, “NOW!”

The bumbling sheriff grunts his way off the secretary’s desk and hobbles inside the mayor’s office. The hardwood door slams loudly behind him.

“I got a colossal family emergency on my hands, and you’re out there flirting with my damned assistant!”

“Well I wasn’t sure what the reason—”

The mayor interrupts, “I didn’t have time to give a damned reason!”

“I’m sorry, J.D.”

“You’re sorry? …How ’bout I’m sorry for ever hiring your incompetent ass!”

…There’s a moment of awkward silence, before the mayor begins to break down. He turns and hands the sheriff a phone and explains, “I got home last night and nobody was there. I got this message shortly thereafter…”

The sheriff holds the phone flat within his hand and listens…

The voice with a rather peculiar tone greets, “Mayor Goldstein, how are you on this fine evening? …I wouldn’t bother paging your wife, as it is her communications device that I’m using. We have her, along with your lovely daughter and the baby sitter. There’s no need to worry, as they’re here at our facility and are in great hands. I can assure you that we mean them no harm. All that we require from you is your total cooperation. We will be contacting you soon, with further instructions. I wouldn’t try anything foolish, like calling in the state police or the National Guard; they’re already under our control. If you should choose to contact the F.B.I., I can personally ensure you that you’ll never see your loved ones again. …Enjoy your evening, Mr. Goldstein.”

“Well holy shit, J.D.!” exclaimed the sheriff. “If they done got Grace, lil’ Hanna n’ the baby sitter, then we best be puttin’ in a call to the F.B.I. before—”

The mayor immediately cuts the man off by shoving him against a nearby wall. He grumbles, “That’s exactly what we’re not going to do, ya’ damned fool! Didn’t you even hear them? …We make one false move and I’ll never see them again!”

“So what ’er we gonna do?”

“We’re going to just sit here and wait, and follow their instructions —whatever those instructions might be,” advised the mayor. “And while we’re at it, call that cute lil’ deputy of yours and get her over here. The last thing I need is some Nancy Drew out there snooping around and causing even more trouble!”

“You got it boss!” …The sheriff retrieves his radio from his side and immediately presses the speak button.

SSSKRSHTT —“Officer Ripper, do you read me?”

…There’s an abnormally long pause of silence. Officer Ripper is one of the most thorough, no-nonsense and by-the-book deputies that he’d ever had under his command. Therefore, it was uncharacteristic of Ripper not to answer on the first call.

SSSKRSHTT —“Officer Ripper, do you copy me? This is an emergency!”

…Still more silence. The sheriff mumbles a dammit-all just as his hand-held radio crackles to life.

SSSKRSHTT —“This is Ripper reading you loud and clear, sheriff!”

SSSKRSHTT —“It appears that there’s been another abduction!”

SSSKRSHTT —“Another abduction? …WHO? …WHERE?”

SSSKRSHTT —“Just meet me over at city hall and on the double!”

SSSKRSHTT —“I’ll be right there sheriff!”

The mayor complains, “I hope she knew enough to turn her damned radio down so nobody could overhear you!”

Before the sheriff gets a chance to respond, a set of tires come to a screeching halt just outside the window. The pair rushes over to look outside, and witness a brown van with the familiar gold VPS livery, now stopped on Main Street below. A second delivery van that’s solid black comes to a screeching halt right behind the first. The cargo doors swing open, and a group of green-skinned beings attired in stretchy jumpsuits, quickly spring from the back. The first of them, begin charging up the front steps of city hall with some sort of weapons within their hands!

“Oh shit, J.D. — they’re headed right this way!”

“Well don’t just stand there, you idiot! You’re the damned sheriff — do something!”

Outside, a third truck has already pulled up alongside the others. This one is larger than the first two, with a large “cube-style” box on the back and in bright yellow. The boxy vehicle makes a wide left turn — effectively blocking Main Street — before it starts making a loud beeping noise in reverse. As the vehicle maneuvers itself into position in front of the town hall, the remaining soldiers begin to form two lines behind it…

Inside town hall, Orion shock troopers quickly spread through the various rooms on the first floor. Explosions of brilliant light can be seen flashing intermittently from one room to the next. When the bottom floor is secured, the aliens charge up the stairs to the second floor in search of the mayor’s office. Once troopers reach the top of the steps, they turn to the glass doors at the right and storm the room…

Martha Steward is the first to confront the unexpected intruders. “Hey! …You can’t just barge in here like—”

CHOOVE—CHOOVE—CHOOVE—CHOOVE—CHOOVE!

—A throbbing surge of energy freezes poor Martha just as she’s getting up from behind her desk!

The lead shock trooper mentally projects:—Release the flash grenades!

Several metallic grenades are tossed across the office floor. There’s a brief pause, allowing a few of the nearby secretaries just enough time to notice the rolling bombs. Their terrified screams are instantly cut short by several blinding explosions of light!

KA-CHOOF! …KA-CHOOF! …KA-CHOOF! …KA-CHOOF!

—The four exploding grenades leave their intended targets instantly frozen in their tracks!

Several of the shock troopers jog from desk to desk, quickly checking each time-suspended victim. Some are still seated at their work stations, while others were simply milling about the office when the unforgiving flash grenades detonated. One of the soldier’s even steps in front of the immobilized security guard, who was frozen while reaching for his holstered weapon. The alien pushes the defenseless guard and laughs, as the man falls helplessly backward to the floor with a loud THUD! …The shock trooper sneers down at the man and taunts, “Foolish human; so worthless and weak!”

Meanwhile, Sheriff Franklin is inside the mayor’s office and frantically shouting into his radio, “MAY-DAY, MAY-DAY! …Terrorists are attacking the town hall in Rossville!”

…What the sheriff doesn’t know is that his transmission is actually being jammed by a signal from within one of the vans out front. His radio, along with any other phone within the building, (be it cellphone or landline), are now completely useless!

Just outside the mayor’s office, the lead shock trooper is jiggling the exterior door handle. …It’s locked, he mentally observes. The soldier turns to the others and signals to “Bring forth the ram!”

Two fighters move forward from the back of the pack and begin swinging a heavy battering ram in unison. The aliens build up their momentum with several well-timed swings, before they finally bash into the door before them. …Within three good strikes, the thick wooden door gives way from its hinges…

As the Orion troopers burst through the door frame, a shot rings out inside the room. A bullet strikes the door frame, and another pierces the wall. The lead trooper drops to the ground, barrel-rolling in dramatic fashion. The lieutenant looks up to see that his intended target is already aligning him within his gunsight! The alien warrior takes aim and manages to pull his trigger first!

CHOOVE—CHOOVE—CHOOVE—CHOOVE—CHOOVE!

Sheriff Franklin is immediately submerged in a brilliant explosion of light. When it finally clears, his .38 special is still raised in front of him. The sheriff would never get the chance to fire off a third round…

One of the other trooper’s points out the mayor, now hiding in a crouched position beneath his desk.

Shock troopers quickly surround the cowering man below them. Mayor Goldstein looks up at the invaders with a look of terror…

“What do you want from me? …Who are you people?”

The lead trooper approaches the mayor and gives the human the once over. The alien then shakes his head in disgust, before lowering his weapon. With a noted sneer, the warrior criticizes, “And you call yourself a leader? …Get him out of there!”

One of the more burly troopers flips the desk over on its side. He bends down, grabbing the mayor by the collar, and then roughly yanks him to his feet…

Just then, the crowd of gathered troopers part down the middle. A silver-haired man with skin just as green as the others, begins to step forward…

Captain Kiyar takes in his immediate surroundings as he approaches. The Orion leader stops just long enough to pick up a framed family portrait from the mayor’s desk. The alien studies the picture for a moment and observes, “This picture must be dated, Mr. Mayor. Your wife’s hairstyle has changed since then. Grace looks so much more …how would you humans put it? …Oh yes; conservative. …And look at your little Hanna; she must be what; …only ten in this photo? …My, how much she’s grown since then…”

“What have you done to my family? …So help me God, if you’ve done anything to harm them, I’ll do everything within my power to—.”

“You’ll do only as you’re instructed, Mr. Mayor!” the leader rudely interrupted. “We’ve already seen just how “worthy” your security force is!” …The alien nods in the direction of Sheriff Franklin, who remains immobilized nearby. The creature makes some sort of snorting noise through his nose, as if to further castigate the incompetent human, then goes on to inform, “…Now I can assure you that your family is in the best of care, Mr. Mayor. …In fact; you might even say they’re at ease.”

“What is it that you want from me?”

“I’m sure you’ll be filled-in on the details, once you’re back at our base.”

“To hell with that; I’m not going anywhere with you freaks!”

“Oh, on the contrary,” advised the alien, “You’ll not only go back to the base, but you’ll tell us everything that we need to know, and do everything that is asked of you.”

The commanding officer then turns to his first lieutenant to instruct, “Have them bring in the conversion chamber so that we may process the humans at once. We must act quickly if we are to remain undetected.”

The first lieutenant nods his head and grants his superior an, “Aye, Captain!”

* * *

Officer Ripper to the rescue?

A Crown Vic sedan flies down Rossville’s main drag at a high rate of speed. With its heavy-duty P71 suspension package, the black and white police cruiser almost seems to float over every dip in the road. As the siren wails down Main Street, various shop owners and customers alike, all look up from whatever they are doing, just to see what the commotion is all about…

Behind the wheel of the speeding police cruiser, is a brave female officer. And even though she works in a field that’s predominantly male; Officer Ripper can be just as tuff and determined as any other…

Tired of living a hectic life in the big city, (and the violent crime that comes with it), Kelly Ripper had put in for a transfer out of L.A. just over a year ago. The thirty-nine-year-old eventually wound up in Rossville Kansas, and life has been good ever since. Nothing much ever happens in this pleasant little town, and this California girl sort of likes it that way. And yet the proud officer is always ready for action whenever duty calls. Times like now; after receiving the mysterious call from Sheriff Franklin. She thought it was pretty strange for the sheriff to put out an emergency call for the town hall, and not even bother to mention why…

…Pretty strange indeed!

As Officer Ripper continues to speed down Main Street, she can see a big yellow moving truck that’s backed up to the town hall’s steps. There are a group of movers lowering a Plexiglas booth on a hydraulic ramp at the back. A brown VPS delivery truck, and a black van without markings, are both double parked at the curb beside it.

The Ford sedan comes to a tire-squealing halt, just beside the black Econoline van. (The patrol car has barely come to a complete stop, when Officer Ripper abruptly slams the gearshift into park!) …The woman jumps from her vehicle and jogs off, leaving the driver side door to bounce back and forth behind her. Placing her fingers between her parted lips, Kelly whistles loudly to get the driver’s attention…

“Hey buddy!” the officer shouts in her best “authoritative” voice, “…You got this thing double parked. …Let’s move it outta’ here —pronto!”

Now taking a closer look at the culprits, Kelly’s eyes begin to narrow when she notices the wrap-around shades and the silver ear-pods that the two men are wearing …Now the delivery guys have them too? …And just what in the hell are these clowns up to, anyway?

Former security guard Vincent Trillo looks over at the cute policewoman who’s now standing at his window. The alien convert briefly sizes the cop up through his shades, before looking over at the man in the passenger seat. That man is Bruce Miller; his old partner at the security firm. Alien technology and the silver pods over their ears, allow the two men to communicate without speaking…

Vincent: -What should we do now?

Bruce: -She looks pretty attractive. She might be worth assimilating for the collective.

Vincent: -You think so?

Bruce: -Sure, just look at the mug on her. Looks like she’s got some decent tits, too!

…The former security guard turns in his seat to face the attractive policewoman. Although he’s smirking, the officer can’t tell that Vincent’s staring directly at her chest through his overly-dark shades…

“I said to move it, guys!”

“I’m sorry ma‘am, but you’re just going to have to wait a minute…”

Officer Ripper gets a sour look and warns, “Look buddy; I don’t have time for any games, and I’m already cutting you a break as it is. Either you move the truck, or you’re getting a damned ticket!”

At that very moment, Kelly just happens to glance through the van’s windshield. To her surprise, she sees a group of people in jumpsuits and helmets, now emerging from town hall. As the group marches down the concrete steps, the policewoman can’t believe her eyes…

…What the…?

The officer removes her aviator sunglasses for a closer look.

The group, (numbering a dozen or so), are attired in light gray; the males in coveralls and the females in skin tight cat suits. Some of them have helmets over their heads with dark face shields. Still others have taken their helmets off to reveal their hair, which is shoe-polish black. All of them have green skin coloration, and are carrying rather odd, but high-tech looking weapons.

…Just what in the hell is going on here?

The group that just emerged from the building is meeting up with a second group, now pulling a Plexiglas booth along on a hydraulic hand-truck. A curious Officer Ripper yells, “Hey! …Just where do you think you’re going with that thing?”

…Several of the unusual-looking creatures are stunned to see the police officer. One of them even points in Kelly’s direction and raises its own weapon. That’s when Officer Ripper decides to reach for her own.

“Ok, just hold it right th—”

CHOOVE—CHOOVE—CHOOVE—CHOOVE—CHOOVE!

—She’s far too late. The driver within the black van had stuck his suspender gun out the window and shot his target at point blank range. Now Officer Ripper stands frozen in her tracks, right here on the main drag …The poor gal apparently never saw it coming…

Vincent and Bruce exit the delivery van. As Vincent waves a hand in front of the officer’s stilled features, his partner comes around from the other side. He too looks directly into the woman’s unmoving visage and mocks, “You forgot to tell her to freeze…”

“Let’s get her in the van and away from prying eyes…”

…As Bruce hoists the officer’s immobilized frame up against his shoulder, the duo quickly walk around to the other side. Vincent slides the cargo door open and his partner hoists Kelly’s body inside.

Vincent keys through the touch screen on his weapon to trigger the scanner. Once activated, the former security guard begins scanning the suspended deputy from head to toe. He makes a few passes over the female’s athletic frame, but the scanner’s sensors begin to emit a high-pitched noise, as if it were straining to pick up a reading. The man cocks his head in wonder, before repeatedly shaking the weapon.

Bruce inquires, “Battery pack gettin’ low?”

Vincent briefly studies the weapon with a confused look and replies, “Must be.”

“I got a quick fix for that.”

Bruce grabs Officer Ripper by the waist and swiftly rotates her around so that she’s facing him directly. He then relieves her tie clip, before forcefully ripping her navy blue shirt wide open. (The aggressive act immediately reveals a set of perky breasts that are clutched within the lacey confines of a lavender push-up bra!) …Not actually caring enough to unhook the garment, the former guard simply peels the cups upward and a set of pert breasts pop into view.

As his partner begins scanning Kelly’s bust line, Bruce continues his assistance by removing the policewoman’s holster and unlatching her belt buckle. A short moment later, Officer Ripper’s slacks drop to her ankles to reveal a matching G-string with delicate lace trimming…

As Vincent continues to pass the wand over the front of the policewoman’s frame, the scanner discharges a familiar static-like sound. Once Kelly’s evaluation is complete, the device emits a beeping tone and the security guard reviews the female’s stats…

“Only 0.7060 on this one,” reported the former security guard. He then cruelly adds, “The small breasts must have set her back…”

That’s when Bruce suggests, “Try the ass.”

Vincent makes a couple of quick passes over Kelly’s sculpted derrière, and the scanner goes wild. The alien convert looks down at the viewing window within the handle of his weapon and reveals, “It reads 0.81 now, though …It looks like she’s a keeper.”

“Told you,” Bruce reminded. “Now let’s set her down on the floor, before she attracts some unwanted attention…”

* * *

A change of attitude…

Back up on the second floor of the town hall, Mayor Goldstein continues to plea for the safe return of his family…

“Just let me know that my family is safe!” begged the mayor before promising, “I swear that I’ll do anything you ask of me!”

“But of course you will,” Kiyar revealed with a contemptuous chuckle. “I told you before; your family is in the best of care. But in order for them to remain that way, we’re going to need your full cooperation.”

“I-Is it possible that I could see them?”

Kiyar replies, “That remains to be seen.” … (The captain casts a knowing glance at his lead lieutenant, and the soldier returns a wicked smile).

For a brief moment, there’s the slightest glimmer of hope that begins to show within the mayor’s worried expression…

“How about we take you for a little ride, Mr. Mayor?”

At this point, the lead lieutenant grabs the mayor’s other arm and the pair roughly shove him through the room. When the group enters the office space beyond, Mayor Goldstein is totally shocked by what he sees…

Mrs. Steward—the Town Hall’s longtime receptionist—is being guided into some type of Plexiglas booth. Several more of the mayor’s colleagues are being placed in a waiting line, just beside it. Those that aren’t in that line, continue to stand frozen around the office, just like the living statues that they’ve become…

Upon witnessing the scene before him, the mayor immediately questions, “What in heaven’s name is going on here?”

Kiyar stops the mayor short before advising, “Just shut up for a minute and watch…”

One of the invaders is aligning Mrs. Steward’s feet on some plates at the bottom of the booth, while another straps her legs down. A third is adjusting a knob on the back of some sort of crown, so that it will fit around the receptionist’s head. Once the final adjustments are made, the technicians stand back and the Plexiglas door hisses into a closed position.

At once, a spark of energy flashes through Mrs. Steward’s body. She breaks from her frozen trance, as the pleasurable wave unlocks long hidden (and possibly even forgotten) desires. As a faint smile appears on her lips, the sixty one-year-old softens within her restraints — but only momentarily. A second, much more powerful wave comes crashing through her entire being. The woman twists her frame within her restraints, desperately trying to fend off the alien’s mind-manipulating technology…

The third wave would be even worse.

Martha arches her back hard within the confinement of the plastic tube. Her aged pelvis thrusts outward, as straining hands frantically search for something to grab hold of. The receptionist finally grasps at the pleats in her skirt and clutches on desperately, as her mouth expels an unheard scream. Then at once, Mrs. Steward stiffens at attention within her Plexiglas enclosure. The woman would remain in this compliant pose for the remainder of her “reconditioning.”

Mayor Goldstein observes the proceedings with a mixed expression of awe and horror. He turns to his captor beside him, whom looks on with a look of pride…

“What are you doing to her?”

“Stage one reprogramming.”

“Stage one reprogramming? …What in the hell is that?”

Kiyar doesn’t offer an answer. Instead, the alien raises his hand in a motion to remain silent.

“I said tell me what that is, goddammit!”

“SILENCE!”

…The mayor returns his focus to his helpless co-worker, who seems to be relaxing her frame inside the tube once again. That’s when two robotic arms unexpectedly swing out from behind her head and clamp themselves over her ears!

Mayor Goldstein blurts out, “What the hell…?”

The Plexiglas door hisses open, allowing Mrs. Steward to step forward. As another office worker is quickly ushered inside, the elderly receptionist makes a sharp right turn and walks in the direction of the mayor and his captor. The silver ear pods on her head lead the way…

Mayor Goldstein watches the older woman cross the room. Each step Martha takes is precise and with confidence. She stares straight ahead, eyes unblinking, and with her purpose unwavering. Even the humming sound of the conversion tube behind her isn’t a distraction. She loved the sound of working equipment; her earpieces are telling her so. When Mrs. Steward finally reaches the mayor, it’s only then that he gets a closer look at the mysterious earpieces. The odd instruments were metallic silver in color and sleek in design. They’re also compact, with the diameter of each pod being slightly smaller than a golf ball. There are small LED lights on either side, currently solid green in color. The woman stops dead in her tracks and turns swiftly towards her co-worker.

Mayor Goldstein looks into the receptionist’s blank stare. Mrs. Steward’s eyes are glazed over, while her expression is noticeably calm…

“M-Martha …Can you hear me, Martha?”

The woman remains silent.

“Martha; what on Earth have they done to you?”

The mayor leans into the receptionist’s direct line of vision. Despite his close proximity, Mrs. Steward’s expression remains unchanged; she simply stares through him, seemingly void of any thoughts or emotion…

And then the woman’s earpieces flash red.

…Mrs. Steward’s eyes go wide, and her body stiffens up even more. One of her lips slightly quivers, before the woman expels a passionate gasp in (apparent) delight. Martha stands there for a prolonged moment, slightly wavering from side to side, until her ear pods eventually turn solid green. And then, without any rhyme or reason, the office worker hunches over to cinch-up the sides of her skirt. Steadily, she lowers herself to her knees. Martha looks up at the green-skinned intruder before her and flashes a gentle smile. With a newfound love shining brightly in her eyes, the sixty one-year-old casually greets, “Good morning, master.”

The green-skinned alien returns, “…And a good morning to you, my new slave.”

Without any suggestion, the once reserved female reaches out and cups the alien’s genitalia. With his balls now nestled within the palm of her hand, Martha begins to gently massage them through his uniform. And even though the creature is fully clothed, the woman can immediately feel that this activity excites her master.

Mayor Goldstein’s jaw nearly drops to the floor.

“…Martha! What is wrong with you? …For Christ’s sake, say something!”

But the office worker couldn’t hear her former boss. She’s too enamored with the swelling alien cock that’s pressing up against the pant material that’s before her…

“May I service you, master?”

Kiyar looks down at the woman and flashes a sinister smile. The commander lowers his hand, tracing a finger along the curve of the woman’s jaw line. “All in due time,” the alien promised. “But for now, I need you to send out that important message that we’ve implanted in your little head.”

“…And then may I service you?”

“I’m afraid we’re in a bit of a hurry, my dear. Now carry out your instructions as you were told.”

Although she appears somewhat disappointed, Martha knows she has a more important task to take care of. She immediately answers, “I’ll get right to it, sir.”

The woman bolts upright, straightens her skirt, and then pivots on her heels. She stiffly marches off in the direction of her desk, intent on carrying out her orders…

The mayor starts to make a spiteful comment at the sight, but notices something just as disturbing over the alien’s shoulder…

Two more aliens: one male, the other a female; are now running a scanner over his personal assistant’s frame!

…Jennifer!

Mayor Goldstein attempts to lunge forward, but Kiyar’s quick reaction and firm grip keep the human in place. The man looks on helplessly, as the male shock trooper scans his wand over his assistant’s bust. A short moment later, the female trooper rudely lifts the hem of Jennifer’s skirt, allowing a full view of her flower-print panties. The male obliges with a nod, before making several passes over Jen’s behind. After a moment, he switches to the front, making several more passes over her pubic region. Once thoroughly examined, the scanner registers its data and emits an audible “beep” in finality.

…Throughout the entire process, poor Jennifer stares forward with noted indifference. Even her nailbrush is still raised between her freshly painted fingertips!

The female shock trooper releases the hem of Jennifer’s sundress, allowing it to float to a stop at mid-thigh. The male raises the handle of his scanner and reviews the data…

“Captain; we have a positive reading of 0.9060 on this one! Shall we load her up and take her back?”

Kiyar quickly measures up the young secretary with a trained eye. The leader then nods his head and replies, “Yes, but just this one! …We need to leave enough workers behind so that it appears to be business as usual. Load her up in the van for the return trip…”

Two more shock troopers appear (seemingly) out of nowhere to carry out the order. The first steps in behind Jennifer with a moving cart. The second grabs hold of the assistant’s ankles and raises her in the air by her stiffened legs, as the first does the same by raising her by the armpits. All the while, the young woman manages to retain her “frozen while painting my nails” pose…

Mayor Goldstein looks on in quiet desperation. The whole disheartening scene reminds him of one of those hypnosis stage shows, where some innocent spectator is slowly entranced and placed on top of two folding chairs. A moment later, the mayor mouths the words, “you sick bastards!” as the alien invaders wheel the suspended woman off rather unceremoniously…

Kiyar turns to the mayor and warns, “The sooner we can finish-up our business here, the less chance that more innocent bystanders will be involved. These guards will see you out the door…”

Two awaiting shock troopers grab hold of Mayor Goldstein by the arms. That’s when the captain advises, “If he should yell for help once he’s outside, put him down immediately.”

One of the troopers nods his head in understanding.

Mayor Goldstein is then forcibly pushed along. He’s marched down the steps of town hall and then led outside to the awaiting transportation. A side door slides open on the track of a black delivery van, and a human male is waiting for him on the other side. The stranger quickly yanks the mayor inside just as he starts to yell out, “Hey wait a minute! You can’t just haul me off like th—”

Ka-thump!

…The mayor immediately slumps forward, falling face first into a pair of unconscious bodies…

One guard turns to the other and grumbles, “All right, let’s get him out of here…”

* * *

The most important call of her life…

As two of her former coworkers are being loaded up outside the town hall, Martha Steward holds a receiver to her ear. Below her glazed eyes, she cracks a gentle smile, as a feminine voice picks up on the other end of the line...

“Hello?”

“Yes, is this the Channel 12 Action News Hotline?”

“Yes it is…”

“Could I please speak to Olivia Munson?”

“This is her.”

“Hello, Olivia. This is Martha Steward, over at the town hall in Rossville. I would like to report a developing story.”

“Yes, go on.”

“It seems that we’ve had a bit of a hostage situation on the second floor.”

“Oh my goodness! …Is everybody alright?”

“Yes, the sheriff’s department has complete control of the situation.”

“Well thank heavens for that! …But why didn’t we hear anything on the scanner?”

“Well, the mayor didn’t want to cause any panic. But now that the situation is under control, I thought you should be the first one to know. …You’ve always been my favorite reporter, Olivia.”

“Well thank you, and that’s very kind of you to say. …Um…Err… (Scrambling noises can be heard in the background). …My crew and I are headed back from the State Police barracks, but we can be over there in say—ten minutes or so? …Thanks for the call, Mrs. Steward!”

“No; thank you, my lovely darling!”

As Mrs. Steward hangs up the phone, she can’t help but beam. Her master will be so proud of her for completing her task. She has no idea that her one little phone call will seal the fates of so many others…