The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Uh... guys?” Trish tilted her head a little and squinted. “I have absolutely no idea what’s going on in there.”

There were murmurs of agreement from everyone else as they all stared at the wall-screen. Lin had walked into the room. That was fine. Then the floor disappeared, and she was floating. Curious, but nothing obvious to worry about. Then the lights went out and and these bright blue... things appeared and surrounded her. So clearly the main event had started.

And then Lin’s suit fell off.

There was an unspoken agreement among the humans that it was okay to look, so long as it was to make sure Lin was safe. But at the moment, nobody seemed to know whether she was or not. She was just limply hanging there in the middle of the weird, whirling crystal clouds, eyes barely focused on the flickering blue flashes before her, body twitching occasionally. The viewing party around the table wasn’t as reassured as they’d hoped when they had pitched the idea to Uukati.

“Do you think they’re talking to her?” Ben wondered aloud. “My aliens talked to me. You know, asked me questions about... various things.”

“Mine too,” Jenna said. “Not really with words, but Uukati sorted it all out telepathically. Must be the same with Lin.”

Trish huffed. “They didn’t say much to me...” she said, but couldn’t keep a smirk away.

“How about you, babe?” Jenna asked the boyfriend she was leaning against. “What happened when Ilaandu took you last time?”

She felt him tense, and it sent a sympathetic shiver through her as well. “I... don’t remember...” he mumbled, and Jenna’s sharpened empathy detected mostly truth there. When she looked up into his eyes, she found them distant for a moment. When they cleared, he instinctively pulled her closer.

But his gaze soon wandered back to Lin.

“Are they even touching her?” Trish said. She approached the wall, trying to catch some tiny detail invisible from further away. All she got was a closer view of Lin’s naked body in perfect resolution. Not that she’d complain. Her friend’s complexion was flawless and inviting, pale and smooth. Just begging for someone run their fingers over her, or grab a handful and pull her in for-

Ben joined her a couple paces from the wall, too focused on the same search for clues to notice Trish flinch and take a half-step away from him. “Not physically, from what I can tell...”

The tingling in his scalp was back. It was distracting, insistent, like the nagging feeling that the answer to a Quiz Bowl answer was just out of his reach. What’s going on with me? Was it some lingering aftereffect of his transformation? A flaw in the Twenty-Eights’ “optimization?”

He fixated on that sensation, concentrated on it, tried to pin it down. It reacted. The tingling shifted under his regard, spreading down his arm like a warm, gentle wave. From shoulder to elbow to wrist, and then to the tips of his fingers... and then further.

Ben could feel the wall in front of him. It had a presence, beyond its solid, tangible surface. Something softer, something malleable to this strange new muscle he had discovered. It was almost like he could reach out with the feeling and...

His hand twitched, and the screen changed.

In Lin’s place was a skeleton, with only faint outlines where the rest of her should have been. Startled gasps let Ben know he wasn’t the only one who saw it.

“Woah,” Trish marveled, “it’s like... X-ray vision.”

The crystal things hovering near Lin now appeared much more clearly without the bright lights in the visible spectrum obscuring them. Now the various rod clusters and dancing shards crackled like silent sparklers.

Did I... did I do that?

Ben gathered his concentration, and touched the wall-screen’s presence again.

The skeleton was replaced by an explosion of colors all across Lin’s body. Blue around her dangling toes and fluttering fingers bled into green and yellow up her arms and legs. Most of her torso was varying hues of orange. From her face, around her neck and between her legs, she blazed an angry red. Moment to moment, the blurry boundaries between the colors were shifting, as the warmer ones gradually pushed outward.

Meanwhile, the aliens all but disappeared into indistinct blotches of yellow and orange. None of the moving parts were visible, and the blobs they could see didn’t seem to move or change much.

“And now it’s... what?” Jenna said. “Must be... heat? But why’s the view keep changing?”

I did it. I’m controlling the screen.

Despite the strangeness of the sensation, it was getting easier each time. Ben could feel his will contacting the various functions of the wall, and the wall responding to his desires, until it took no more effort than turning a page.

No one ever thought about the mechanics of moving their hand to turn a page; which muscles to flex and which joints to bend in the coordinated effort to cycle through the physical medium. One decided the page should turn, and their hand did the rest.

Except it wasn’t his hand. It was weird brain tingles. Rather than a book, he was manipulating sensors in an alien laboratory. But it was just as easy, just as natural.

He had no idea what it meant, but Ben couldn’t keep his excitement to himself. He gestured to the wall, and made it switch to the next view. “Guys, I think I’m...”

Whatever words he had been about to say died in the face of what the creatures truly were.

Thin gossamer strands, previously invisible, crisscrossed between the crystal pieces in an elaborate spider web. They constantly stretched, broke, reached, and reformed in too many places to keep track of all at once. When a connection was made, the thread would flicker and gleam with energy for a moment, until the two crystals joined by the thread moved away from one another, where each would find new partners and form new links. Each Cerulean’s physical body was, in reality, a scaffolding for a dense yarn ball of these shining, morphing filaments.

Cast off from the main bodies were much longer, thicker strands, gently undulating through the air like the tentacles of a jellyfish. Most were only a few feet, waving lazily into the surrounding space, but the longest of them intertwined, forming grasping arms ten or fifteen feet long. Some reached out to touch their fellow Ceruleans. Many others were groping Lin.

Lin’s shape was gone again, but rather than skin or skeleton or body heat, her brain was visible. It blazed like a beacon, and the fibrous branches trailing down from it formed a roughly human shape. Ben watched as a Cerulean arm grazed Lin’s thigh. A pulse of light shot up to the Cerulean through its arm, but another light shot up Lin’s leg and into her head.

“That’s... that’s her nervous system!” Ben said. His excitement broke through the haunting unease of the strange visual. “Those are electrical signals! There! See that! They’re touching her, and we can see her feel it!”

Max gazed wide-eyed at the screen. “Wild...”

“And the aliens too,” Ben said, stepping forward and pointing at the glittering yarn balls. “They’re made of electricity and magnetic fields with a few crystals holding it all together.”

“But are they hurting her?” Max said.

With an ease that surprised him, Ben flipped the screen back to the normal visible spectrum. “Uh... I don’t...”

“No,” said Jenna. The word was quiet, but carried conviction. There had been scores of tiny twitches playing across her helpless friend’s face earlier, but Jenna didn’t sense any of them were from pain. “No, I think she’s okay.”

Nobody questioned her, and the suspense in the room eased enough that nobody felt obligated to watch the wall-screen quite so vigilantly. Though Trish continued to do so just for the view.

Ben sat at the table across from Max and Jenna, running his hands over his head. The tingling had mostly subsided, but not entirely, as if awaiting his summons. It was far too similar to the sensation of the nanite oil of the Twenty-Eight to be anything else, but what was it doing? Were they still studying him from afar? Still changing him? Or was it just a side effect?

He rapped his fingertips on the table-device, and closed his eyes. The presence of the wall-screen was still there, across the room, but there were others too. The lights overhead. The room doors. The collar around his neck. The collars Max and Jenna were wearing, right across from him. And Trish’s too.

Without thinking, just following an intuition, Ben tested the connection to Trish’s collar. There was a tiny spark, a charge of potential, and for that moment, it was almost as if that small, clear orb on Trish’s throat halfway across the room were sitting in his palm. Instinct and curiosity guided him more than any methodical plan. He wanted to see what was possible. The prickling feeling obliged.

Commands were activated. Dormant circuitry stirred. Energy built up. It felt...

Green.

Deja vu gripped him, as disorienting as an anti-gravity field. Something about touching this energy was so familiar, and yet Ben couldn’t remember why. The harder he tried, the faster it evaporated before his mind’s eye, but it was too important to let go. He had to know. Ben brought all his willpower to bear on holding the images together.

Darkness. A shower. Someone appearing. So horny. So... powerful. Confident. He was in control. He could do whatever he wanted...

That feeling of dominance and potency bled into more half-remembered fragments. A beach. Thunder. Red. So much red. Needing release. Desperate. Finding someone. Someone to fuck. Seizing her in his hands. Turning her around to face him. Her face...

Lightning flashed behind Ben’s eyes. It cast the face in terror.

“Trish!”

The name erupted from him, gasped out like he had been choking on it. It startled Max and Jenna.

“Could, um, could you maybe check on Sophie?” Ben said, trying to play off the outburst. He didn’t dare look at Trish herself, not while his pulse was pounding so hard. Why was it pounding so hard? The reason escaped him, like water down a shower drain.

“We should keep her updated on how Lin is doing,” he added, to nobody in particular.

To his relief, Trish about-faced, and marched over to Sophie’s door without a word. When she disappeared inside, it left just the three of them. And the screen.

A minute or two passed in relative silence. The only sounds were Jenna’s coos as she doted over Max, and the involuntary grunts and whimpers Lin was making, delivered by the screen. Ben spent the time staring at his hands, as if a clue to his new predicament could be found in the lines of his palms.

Okay, whatever is going on with me, I can’t stop now. Right? Even if it feels kind of... weird. This could be the key to getting out of here. I need to figure this out. I will figure this out.

“Hey Ben?” Jenna said, snapping him out of his thoughts. Her tone and expression both carried concern. “What’s up? You look like something is... distracting you.”

“Uh, well, it’s going to sound crazy...” he said. Now that he was about to say it out loud, the idea of an alien remote control in his brain sounded ludicrous. But Jenna’s eyes held only gentle, receptive understanding. Ben took breath.

“You know the screen? How it was changing to different modes? That was me. I was controlling it. I can change the channel with my mind. Whatever the aliens did while they were... experimenting on me, I think it did more than just alter my body. Now I can sense things in the room. Like different devices. I can connect with them.”

Max furrowed his brow. “Are you sure, man? I get that nothing is impossible around here, but... come on. You can shoot radio waves out of your brain? Could you be hallucinating? They could be making you see things, and feel things. I-I bet that’s something they could do...”

With a frown of concentration, Ben pointed at the wall and snapped his fingers. The image of Lin flicked back to the x-ray. Snap. Thermal. Snap. Magnetic. Snap. Visible spectrum.

“Huh,” was all Max could say, his eyebrows raised.

Jenna leaned over the table-thing, lowering her voice. “What else can you do? Can you open the doors?”

“I don’t know,” Ben replied, huddling in. “I’m still getting a feel for it. Maybe? But we need to be careful. They might be able to detect me if I start messing with it too much, like an alarm or something. We might only get one shot at it, and we need to make sure we’re all together. And I need to know what I’m doing. The collars seem to be pretty easy to connect to. I might be able to get some practice on them first.”

“O-Our collars?” Max said, his voice catching just a bit. “Can you turn them off?”

Ben shrugged. “I’d need a volunteer to find out.”

The couple shared a look. Max straightened up, set his jaw, and nodded. The display seemed as much to convince himself as everyone else that he wasn’t daunted by the proposal. “At least it’s you doing the testing this time, and not one of those freaks,” he said, forcing a chuckle.

Ben looked his best friend in the eye, and then lowered his gaze to the clear orb set in the center of Max’s collar. The prickling on his scalp intensified as he focused his attention into it. His first instinct urged him to dive in, to exert his will, like he had with Trish. But Ben fought that urge back down. He needed to take his time if he was going to really understand it.

There was a shape to it, in his mental space, that was far different from its physical form. The simple, smooth sphere seemed to contain bumps, ridges and protrusions that Ben’s mind could feel around, a puzzle box his thoughts could touch. And manipulate.

“Is it working?” Max said. “You’re just kinda star—”

Jenna shushed him, and Ben let the interruption fade into the background. Truth be told, he didn’t know how long he had been examining the collar, but after a while he felt like he had a barest sense of how to start digging deeper. “Hold on...”

Ben applied a bit of pressure to one facet that felt the most familiar. Emerald light started to pool inside the orb, and the spark of awareness drained out of Max’s eyes. Immediately, Ben pulled back.

“Okay... Good to know.” He waited a moment for Max to recover his wits before trying again. The next few attempts were the same. The collars’ primary function, it seemed, was to make their human bearers docile and tractable, so that was the easiest function to activate. So easy, Ben was doing it almost by accident.

“Let’s try something else then...” he mumbled to himself. With a mental twist, he turned and felt around for mechanisms that were less obvious, that might be tucked away. I wish there was just some big, obvious button that said “deactivate” on it.

Tingles in his head gently pulled his attention to a spot in the collar’s programming, like an invisible force was guiding his hand to a particular lever on the puzzle box. Is it really that easy?

It wasn’t. The metaphorical lever refused to budge.

Ben concentrated again, willing the protocol to activate. Still nothing. So he tried harder. His hands were clenched on the table-surface. His face was hot. His head was ablaze with the prickling sensation. Come on, you stupid alien accessory! Shut off!

The lever gave.

Max’s eyes rolled up into his head, and he slumped onto the pseudo-table like a rag doll.

The sudden collapse startled Ben out of his concentration, and nearly out of his chair too. Instantly, Jenna was on top of her boyfriend, pulling him up to see what had happened to him.

“Babe! Babe? Can you hear me?” She shook him gently, but he was out cold.

“Shit! Shit shit shit! I’m sorry, Jenna! This is all my fault! I thought I knew what I was doing, and... I tried something, and... I fucked up!”

“Hey, Ben, listen to me,” she said, composed as ever. “He’s fine. See? Still breathing normally.”

Jenna studied Max a moment longer, clearly seeing something Ben couldn’t. “Whatever you did, it just... knocked him out. He should be fine in a little while. Just a having a nap. Here, help me get him laid down.”

Ben didn’t know how she knew that, or why he believed her, but he did. It was fine. He hadn’t accidentally fried Max’s brain. He hoped. It still took a minute for his adrenaline to burn away, during which time they carried Max over to one of the misshapen lounging cushions. Only his improved physique allowed them to move the big lug at all. “It... it must have been a fail-safe. If we try to take the collars off, then... well...”

“Then it’s lights out,” Jenna finished for him. She glanced down at Max. “Do you think you could... maybe not do that particular thing next time?”

“Next time? Are you nuts? Obviously I don’t know what I’m doing! We’re lucky his head didn’t explode!”

Jenna fixed him with a determined stare, then took a seat in the blob-chair next to Max. Without even trying, the partially reclined pose showed off her unbelievable figure, and Ben had no small difficulty tearing his eyes away from her. “Like you said, you need to practice. Keep trying on mine. If you knock me out, no big deal. There’s no way these collars were designed to actually hurt us.”

Uncertainty still gnawed at the bottom of Ben’s gut. They might not be designed to hurt their wearers, but lots of devices could mess up a clueless do-it-yourselfer if they crossed the wrong wire. In the end, though, Jenna’s confidence was contagious. She was sure, and that’s all there was to it. Under normal circumstances, when Jenna made up her mind, she was fierce and tenacious. Since the aliens had returned her changed, Ben couldn’t even imagine saying no to her. Compassion and trust radiated from her like a warm aura, melting his doubts and forging them into resolve.

“Okay,” Ben said, “I’ll try again. One more time.”

The sensation of initiating the connection was getting more familiar, but harder to maintain. Whatever mental muscle he had discovered was getting stronger, more practiced, but it was also getting tired from so much use. What had started as tingles over his scalp was now a simmering pressure behind his eyes. Alright, I’m back in. Now all I have to do is avoid the minefield of green oblivion, and not yank the the big “knockout” lever. Nothing to it...

Jenna’s collar had the same electronic shape as the others, but there was still no way to tell what each function did before he activated it. If he picked a point on the puzzle at random, and worked his way out from there, at least he would have some method to continue his experiments later.

The first knob felt green. He managed to let go before it even had a chance to activate. The second was also green. Then there was the knockout lever, which Ben avoided like it had a thousand volts running through it. For all he knew, it did. Third, green again. He cursed the collar, and the aliens, and his flagging mental strength.

When Ben tried a fourth time, he found a latch. It resisted manipulation at first, as though it were under some kind of tension, but wasn’t quite as stubborn as the fail-safe protocol. Unlikely to be some weapon of last resort, but also not something to be used as often as the pacification function. What could be hidden there?

Gently... Gently... Come on... Ben pried at the latch, carefully measuring out more and more willpower until it felt like a vice had been clamped around his temples a couple twists too tight. Just as his grip was about to falter, however, his care was rewarded. With a click, the latch came undone, finally acceding to his command.

In reality, there was no latch. No panel popped open, making no noise. Ben wasn’t really touching anything. There was just a tiny, transparent sphere set in a metal band around Jenna’s neck. And now Ben had summoned it to life.

Like the heart of an awakening volcano, the orb first flickered, then blazed, with crimson light.

It was the paradoxes that fascinated them the most.

As the Ceruleans refined their examination, they found certain reactions to be of particular interest. When they zapped the nerves in Lin’s pussy, she convulsed, much to their delight. When they tickled the various parts of her brain, it registered to her in bursts of color or sudden mood swings, intrusive thoughts or unbidden memories that thrilled them.

All throughout it, Lin hung in the air, floating, weightless, limp, unable to move and unable to stop feeling whatever the Ceruleans made her feel. She existed in a state of perfect helplessness and abject terror. With a casual, even accidental movement, they could probably stop her heart, or render her a vegetable. And the constant thrum of physical arousal forced upon her only added to her confusion.

It was little comfort that she could hear them think while they studied. The link to her mind through their invisible tendrils still went both ways, and the connection only deepened as the minutes crawled by. Every pop-flash of blue energy in their crystal clouds was a note of curiosity, wonder, or even gratitude.

They were thanking Lin for being their test subject.

I assure you, the CERULEAN are aware their methods are causing you distress, and regret their necessity Uukati added. Unfortunately, due to testing protocols, I am unable to interfere by artificially suppressing your fear response.

Lin was not in an understanding mood. F-Fuck you, alien bitch! You’ve “assured” me of an awful fucking lot of things, and they’re all bullshit! Get them out of my head! Get out! Please... make them stop. I don’t want... tell them to... please, just make them stop...

Tears welled in her brown eyes, blurring her vision, and she was powerless to blink them away. There was a moment where the intrusions lessened, though she still shivered from the caresses to her outermost nerve endings. A charge of conversation filled the room, a discussion just beyond her awareness.

Softly, Uukati brushed her mind again. They have identified the neurological source of your distress, and have offered to dampen its activity manually for the remainder of the test, if y—

NO!

As terrifying as the experience was, the prospect of them taking that fear away, of leaving her less than she was now, was a dread without equal. That was the first paradox to pique their interest.

DISSONANCE.

The thought-word was accompanied by an sudden shift in the droning, singing-wine-glass hum she had long since tuned out. It rippled from one Cerulean to the next in a shrill chorus before their harmony managed to settle again.

She didn’t want to be afraid, but she also didn’t want her fear removed. She was in conflict with herself. They didn’t understand. But they were intrigued.

Prickling, ghostly fingers passed through her skull once again. The fear evaporated. Like waking up from a nightmare, sweaty, heart racing, Lin was plucked from despair into an eerie, adrenaline-soaked calm. Unlike waking from a nightmare, the monsters were still right in front of her. She just didn’t fear them. She couldn’t.

The Ceruleans basked in awe of what they had just done to her.

HARMONY. CLARITY.

A deeper truth about these creatures dawned on the peaceful human as the Ceruleans shared their excitement with her. They had evolved free of muddling influences like high gravity, liquid water and the consumption of carbon-based chemical energy. They were were musical, silicate clockwork, so unlike her wet, messy, meat-web of a body. They were lights and vibrations contained in clean, clear crystal.

Perfectly ordered. A living pattern of sentient energy.

To them, she was a pattern too, but a misaligned one. She just didn’t make sense to them. Why did her body not conform to the shape of her thoughts like theirs did? Her chaotic biological imperatives and conflicting emotions were an orchestra out of tune. A wall of paintings all maddeningly crooked. A puzzle to be sorted and put back together before the whole picture could be fully viewed and appreciated.

DISSONANCE. HEAL. REPAIR.

The Ceruleans went searching for more conflicts to resolve. Their nature demanded that every pattern be completed, every wrinkle be ironed smooth. Her inner turmoil was undesirable. A problem. Problems required solutions. And once Lin was “solved,” they would have a complete understanding of their human subject.

Lin didn’t share their optimism. They were going to rearrange her mind like a Rubik’s cube, and all she could do was hope she was still herself when they were done.

Their first step was to relaxed her. Physically, her body was already slack and unresponsive, at least to her. But as the Ceruleans resolved to realign her, Lin felt more of their tendrils touch her shining brow, plunge deep into her skull, and fuzz her mind.

Please don’t do this... You don’t... have to... Don’t... please...

Each tiny touch diffused the electricity in her neurons and scattered her defiant thoughts. She tried to resist, to hold on to herself, but she had no recourse to the gentle, erosive strokes they lavished across her gray matter. Like a tower of wooden blocks, she was pulled down to her basic elements, so she could be built anew. Soon Lin was little more than a pile of placid, incurious instincts, jumbled together and waiting for stimuli. It was, she would later decide, the most peaceful and free she had ever felt.

PLEASURE.

Having bodies vastly different from humans, the Ceruleans’ conception of pleasure was equally alien. It had connotations of harmonic vibrations, of clear purpose, and of a union between thought and form. Still, their earlier experiments with Lin’s body—and Uukati’s guidance—had taught them what made humans feel good on a biological level. They pressed those buttons with renewed enthusiasm.

“Hngah!” said Lin’s body as it spasmed. Her mind spasmed too, separately. Without the fear and tension, her arousal was unconstrained, and grew to fill the void left by her dissolved awareness.

That pulsing, horny energy triggered other parts of her brain in turn. Half-formed notions and associations cascaded into her semi-consciousness, one after another. Aroused. Need. Cock. Max.

Whether she would admit it or not, whether she even knew it or not, the last time Lin had been really turned on had been watching a naked Max walk through the common room. The image of his blank, obedient face and thick, stiff dick waving around with Jenna’s juices on it commanded her mind’s eye. The longer the Ceruleans held the image before her, and the more they stroked the nerves in her pussy, the more emotions they shook loose.

Max. Entitled. Coward. Frustration.

Sure, Max was her friend, and she had known him for years, but if she hadn’t been friends with Ben and Trish first, she wouldn’t have tolerated him long enough to form that bond. They were just too different.

Max was the popular white boy from a well-off family, coasting through life, not a care in his pretty head. Lin was laden with expectations and demands and limits by her immigrant parents, well-intentioned but suffocating. He had a hot girlfriend that lavished him with affection whenever it was barely appropriate. She was alone. He was loud, brash and always said the first dumb thing that popped into his head. She could put her earbuds in and make it to Tuesday before she said her tenth word of the week. She kept the world at bay with a mask of disdain, only letting it slip off in the presence of her trusted circle. As far as Lin could tell, Max had no masks. Why would he need one? The world held no judgment for him. He could be himself, and everyone loved him. It wasn’t fair!

It wasn’t fair.

Lin’s conscious pride would never acknowledge the depth of her envy. But Lin wasn’t conscious now. So she burned with it.

And yet she burned with arousal too. Max. Athletic. Attractive. Desire.

His chiseled physique and strong features were self-evident. A genetic marvel, writ in powerful muscle and pearly white grins. For all the faults Lin saw in him, his swagger was justified. Any woman with a pulse would understand how Lin felt. They would envy Jenna just like she did, for all the times Max pulled Jenna close with those strong arms, smiled at her with those perfect teeth, gazed at her with those blue eyes...

Max didn’t deserve Jenna! When she’d been stolen away to be experimented upon, instead of fighting for her, he had slunk off to jerk his cock alone. Jerk his big, throbbing cock... She just wanted to push him down... show him how weak he really was... climb on top... like in... the tent?

Max. Unreliable. Unworthy. Max. Sexy. Fuck. Max. Punish. Max.

DISSONANCE.

“Ahhhgn!” The Ceruleans blasted away Lin’s tangled free-associations and churning strife with another squeeze to the pleasure centers of her brain. Her weightless meat convulsed as its nerves were flooded with sexual stimulation from inside and out, leaving only a hot, roiling emptiness in its wake.

Now that the shape of her emotional turmoil had been drawn out, the Ceruleans were finally ready to correct it. With the care of surgeons, the aliens peeled apart the patterns, traced each pathway, and if those synapses led to thoughts deemed unwanted, they were cauterized with a gentle plucking motion. Better to find new, positive routes for those impulses to take.

If thoughts of the human male triggered such frustration and insecurity in their subject, the remedy would be a sense of confidence and command. Magnetic tendrils sought out the memory engrams associated with those feelings, and energized them. Brought them to the fore.

PLEASURE. POWER. CONTROL.

Nothing had ever been quite as intimidating as that neon red sign. Hot Topic. Just standing in front of it would earn her mother’s scowl. But Lin had kept her grades up and gotten a second job to save up the money; she’d be damned if they were going to tell her what she couldn’t spend it on. Nu metal blared at her. The girl behind the counter didn’t even look up when Lin walked in. Then she held that heavy leather boot in her hand, and ran her fingers over the totally-unnecessary number of buckles. That was when she knew. Style that defied normal and practical, that spurned conventional taste and good sense. By owning them, she could finally own a piece of herself. This was what she wanted, and nothing could stop her.

REPAIR.

A crowded hallway at school, not long after. Her look was still fresh. People still weren’t used to the new Lin. Lin still wasn’t used to the new Lin. That was when Angela Stevens walked by with a couple of her valley girl minions and said something snide. The specifics didn’t come into focus, but Halloween was invoked, and there were titters from the crowd. Lin wanted to climb into a locker die.

But that was when she realized: under the thicker makeup, they couldn’t see her blushing. People who looked like she did didn’t have to take shit from bitches who looked like Angela. Without hesitation, the perfect retort rolled off her tongue, with just the perfect hint of calculated venom. Lin didn’t remember what she’d said anymore. It had probably been childish and stupid. But then again, so had Angela. This time the laughs were at the bimbo’s expense, forcing her retreat, and Lin couldn’t keep the triumphant smirk off her black lips.

HEAL.

The freshman dorms, after midterms. That guy from one floor up was hanging around again. Brandon or Bradley or something. He was from Ben’s orbit, but had a habit of lingering after the group broke up to chat with Lin about TV shows or poli-sci homework or whatever else. Rumor on the floor was that he had a crush on her, and his half-dozen aborted attempts to ask her out had long since confirmed it. It was cute, even flattering, but her patience had run out. Before he had a chance to wuss out yet again, Lin grabbed him by the collar and dragged him inside her room. She asked him point blank if he wanted to go on a date or not. They were only an item for a month or two, but there was nothing quite like the thrill of decisive action, of cutting through the pretenses to get to something real.

HARMONY.

With a flick of its incorporeal tentacle across her clit, the lead Cerulean observed its handiwork in action. Signals raced from one side of Lin’s brain to the other and back again.

Power! Fuck! Max! Control! Horny! Assertive! Max! Take! Own! Dominate! Max!

Images of Max no longer inspired resentment and fear and self-consciousness. Those noisy, offensive connections had been reforged into more pleasing patterns. Arousing patterns. Orgasmic patterns.

Lin came, and was remade.

“Aaaah! Nhaah! Nnnggh!” Her body bucked and thrashed wildly, without purchase in the empty void. Her limbs flung sweat and other fluids in all directions. Those fizzled against the plasmatic energy fields of the Ceruleans long before they could touch the immaculate crystals within. Her hair stood on end, arcs of electricity dancing between the black strands. The pop-flashes of their contentment reflected in her dull eyes.

ACCEPTANCE. UNDERSTANDING. HARMONY.

The rush of new insight was not Lin’s alone. By manipulating Lin’s body, the energy creatures had come to understand its purpose. The meat was not merely a shell, a container for her consciousness like their silicate matrices were for them. It was a lens through which she perceived the universe, and the foundation of all her wants and needs. Her body gave form to her mind, not the other way around. A most fascinating arrangement.

The study had been completed to the Ceruleans’ satisfaction.

Pleasure. Power. Harmony... She could see them now. Beyond the lights and the crystals and the infinite blueness, Lin sensed the energy drifting in long wisps around her. Her body hummed like theirs did, taking its place in their joyous chord.

Exhaustion caught up to her soon after. Lin’s vision faded, falling into the endless spinning galaxies of their bodies and dreams of sexual control. Her lids, too heavy to keep open any longer, fell closed over eyes of brilliant cerulean.

First came the deja vu. It was happening again.

Then came the panic. It’s happening again!

The slow, creeping drain of her will. The pleasant tingle of submission that pushed her thoughts out her ears with gentle, implacable pressure. By the time she recognized it, Trish didn’t even have the volition to moan before the green light of her collar swallowed her up.

Luckily she didn’t have to wait long before she had orders. With a mix of robotic detachment and all-too-human arousal, she carried them out. Check on Sophie. Keep her updated on how Lin is doing.

Without that overriding directive, she might have had to consider why the green light turned her on so much. She might have dwelled on the memories of the last time she’d had her choice taken away. She might have imagined the sound of the shower running, or the sight of water droplets on Ben’s dark skin. Or the weight of his body against her. Or the fullness of his cock in her cunt.

Mercifully, Trish was spared that experience. At least until she finished her objective.

“Lin is safe,” she said in a monotone. Then she blinked, and felt the heat in her cheeks and between her legs. She was standing in Sophie’s room. “Oh fuck.”

Sophie shot up in her bed-pod and let out a startled eeep! For an awkward beat, the two of them just stared at each other, Sophie hugging her knees to her chest, and Trish processing the stubborn fantasies swirling around in her head.

“T-They took Lin?” Sophie said. “Oh no! Should I have b-been around to... I don’t know... help or something?”

Trish plopped down on the opposite end of the bed-surface. “No, hey, don’t worry. You know the drill. Not much we can do about it, right? She’s... safe. Yeah. That’s what I came in here to tell you. Just keeping you updated. And checking on you.”

She forced a smile, hoping it did a better job reassuring Sophie than it did convincing herself. “You holdin’ up okay?”

“Yeah,” Sophie said, eyes downcast.

A moment passed. Then two. The awkward silence nearly drove Trish from the room. But outside there were uncomfortable questions too. Why did her collar go off? Could Ben just do that whenever he wanted? Why did she hope he could? Maybe it was better to stay in here a bit longer...

“So... things have gotten really crazy, huh.” Not the most insightful remark, but she had to say something. It wasn’t like Sophie was ever going to take the lead in the conversation.

“Yeah,” Sophie said again. She was warier this time. “They have. Bugs and robots and... and people hooking up. It’s all crazy.”

“Totally! Like, I never thought in a million years that I would actually hook up with Jenna. God, it feels so weird to even say it out loud, ya know? We’ve been best friends since fifth grade, and she’s the hottest girl I’ve ever met, but she’s totally straight! I never thought I had a real shot with her. But now we’re here, and things are so bizzaro and different. She’s different. We went through so much yesterday. Like, when they took Max away from her, I could just tell she needed me. I had to help her, ya know? And it was amazing! Better than I ever imagined sex could be. And I’ve had my fair share, lemme tell you. We were just so... It was incredible. I...”

Trish finally stopped to catch her breath. The words had come pouring out as if she’d almost forgotten Sophie was even there. “I... I actually told her I loved her.”

She stared at the bare, white wall beside the door, and suddenly Sophie realized there were tears welling in her friend’s eyes.

“God, I’m so stupid.”

Sophie uncurled from her sitting fetal position. “What?”

“It’s just... that’s as far as I get. Once the ‘I love yous’ come out, that’s it. It’s over.”

How many times, when her most recent lover had uttered those words, had they tolled like a death knell for the relationship? It was always a watershed; fun and flirtation on one side, distance and bickering on the other.

“But why?” Sophie asked. Trish’s flightiness was well-known, but she’d never shown her romantic transience to bother her before. It was always a shrug and a joke and on to the next one.

“I’m not sure...” said Trish. “Maybe I’m afraid of commitment. Having somebody depend on you, and depending on them. It’s kind of scary. Or maybe I’m afraid of missing out, getting tied down to one person when there’s so much out there to see and do. Or maybe it’s the end of the chase. Like once I’ve gotten the girl, once the game is over, then the thrill is gone, and the thrill is all I wanted after all.”

Each rationalization was familiar, even soothing in a way. These were the friends she turned to after every breakup. But they were still cold and sharp as ever, and pointed all the blame back on her in the end.

“You’re afraid that’s going to happen with Jenna,” Sophie stated flatly.

“Yeah,” Trish said. She sighed. “Jenna is different now, but I’m still the same. I’m still the problem.”

Sophie sighed too. Was there anything as tragic as being thwarted by one’s own insecurities? Unfortunately, her romance novels had never offered a practical solution. If a dashing hero didn’t sweep you off your feet and break through your shell with a passionate seduction and vigorous lovemaking, you were out of luck. Maybe it was different in lesbian romance novels. Do lesbians have romance novels? They must. Probably not a good time to ask, though.

“Maybe there’s still a chance,” she offered instead. “It looks like Jenna’s not as straight as she thought she was.”

Trish chuckled. “Yeah, looks like it. But can I tell you a secret? I think... I’m not as gay as I thought I was, either.”

Sophie’s jaw dropped. Not because it was new information, but she certainly hadn’t expected it to come out. “Um. What? That’s unbelievable.” Trish had never been shy about speaking her mind, but that had to be a deep, dark secret for her, right? Especially because she didn’t know that Sophie already knew it. As far as Sophie was concerned, deep, dark secrets had to be pushed down and kept hidden, until perhaps someone strong and irresistible came along and forced those deliciously shameful truths out into the open. And yet Trish just offered it up to her.

“I know, right?” Trish said. She was giving Sophie’s legendary blushes a run for their money, but it felt good to confide with someone, to finally say it out loud. “Could be all the skin on display, or the vibe in the room, or something in the goop they feed us, but... I get it now. Watching you giving Ben the puppy eyes all these years. I get it.”

“B-Ben?”

“Or, like, any guy! Just sayin’ I could see myself giving men a try.” Jeez, close one, Trish. If she had any idea what brought this conversation on, she’d probably claw out your eyes!

Both of them looked away from the other, seeing the same scene in their minds’ eye, but from different perspectives. Sophie really wanted to be envious. She desperately tried to conjure some ember of resentment against this friend who had tasted not just her own heart’s desire, but Sophie’s as well.

It never came. Trish was being so vulnerable right now, so uncharacteristically doubtful. No matter how much it stung, Sophie couldn’t bring herself to hate her friend. Or was she just being a pushover like usual? “Your secret is safe with me,” she mumbled.

Trish’s eyes now overflowed with a happier sentiment. She scooted over and put her arm around her friend’s shoulders. “You see Soph, that’s why you’re the best. Here I am, blabbing about my own problems when I came in here to check on you, and you’re just bein’ so damn supportive. So really, woman to woman, how are you holding up?”

What do I say? A day ago, Sophie had been terrified of being taken and tested and raped by their inhuman captors. Now, every time they passed her over in favor of a different subject... a sexier specimen... it hurt. Sitting on the fringes, watching everyone else hook up, made it even worse. What kind of a freak am I that I wish it would happen to me?

“It’s hard,” she finally said. “I just want it to be over.”

“Aw...” Trish pulled Sophie into an enveloping hug. By the time they broke it, the material of their suits had thinned from the shared body heat. “Hey, on the bright side, we went camping to spend more time together. Mission accomplished, right? And besides, watching a hunked-out Ben walk around in a skin-tight onesie can’t be the worst way to spend your vacation, am I right girl? You should stay close to him out there. He wants to make sure we’re all getting what we need. You’ve got some needs, don’t ya, Soph? I know he’d help you with ’em.”

Her elbow nudged into Sophie’s ribs, clearly feeling more like the same old frisky Trish already. This time, Sophie managed to find some resentment. Just a little.

She forgot about it when, outside, the shouting started.