The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The room was bathed in red.

The orb on Jenna’s collar burned a fierce crimson, bright and coruscating, like a red giant star raging against the cold void at the end of its life. She gasped, then groaned as every muscle seemed to clench at once. Her taut, twitching body was nearly thrown out of her blob-chair by the tremors rolling through it.

“Shit! Jenna!” Ben shouted, but her eyes had rolled into her head, and her inarticulate grunts didn’t suggest she could hear him.

“Fuck fuck fuck!” He rushed over to her side, not knowing what he could do, but knowing he had to do something.

He never got a chance to figure it out. As quickly as it had flared up, her collar dimmed, flickered, and went out. Jenna slumped. Her eyes were unfocused, roaming the ceiling. A trail of drool trickled unnoticed from the corner of her panting mouth.

“I’m sorry!” Ben knelt down and took Jenna’s hand in his. It was feverishly warm, but he was just relieved she wasn’t in a coma. “Fuck, I knew that was a bad idea. I swear, I’ll never do anything like that again. Messing with this tech is way, way too...”

He realized her gaze had finally settled on him, and that should have been a relief. But there wasn’t any recognition in it. Just a strange intensity.

“Uh, Jenna? Are you okay?”

Her grip tightened on his hand, and she reached up, putting her other hand on Ben’s shoulder. Then, with a strength he didn’t expect, she pulled him down.

They were kissing.

Although, it would have been more accurate to say she was kissing him, because in that moment, Ben’s brain completely short-circuited. “Mmmph! Rrrmm...”

After a moment, he was able to pluck a few thoughts from the soup of shock and confusion swirling in his head. Her lips were so soft. And her tongue was frantically exploring his mouth, as if there were something she desperately needed somewhere behind his tonsils. And she tasted so impossibly sweet...

Jenna devoured Ben until spots appeared in his vision. He lost his balance and staggered back from her long before it occurred to him to break the kiss himself. A gulp of fresh air cleared some of the fuzz, but the cloying, honeyed sweetness only thickened around his mind. No matter how many times he blinked, or shook his head, or took a faltering step backward, it only got thicker.

“Wha... J’nna...” he panted. “What’re you... Why did...”

For a second, he just gawked at her, fish-mouthed, as Jenna rose to her feet. Her eyes had never left him. Damn she was beautiful. Her suit looked thinner than tissue paper. And her expression was so intense. And... hungry? The one thing he knew for sure was that no woman had ever looked at him quite the way Jenna was looking at him right now. Ben brought a finger to his lip, and it came away sticky. What had she done to him?

“Jen... Jenna, something’s... I feel...” he put his hand on the table to steady himself. Hot blood rushed through his veins. In his ears. Down to his cock. “Fffuck...”

Jenna advanced wordlessly, with purpose in her stride. Before Ben could even react, she was attacking him again, forcing him against the table-device, hands groping, hips grinding, tongue seeking. It was too much for her suit to bear any longer. The material fell away in shreds, disintegrating before it touched the floor. His own suit followed, torn apart by her frenzied fingers and the strain of his own erection.

They were skin to skin.

The shock was still there, but it was distant now. Ben knew this wasn’t normal or right, but connecting that knowledge to any other feeling or action was just too hard. It… wasn’t really important, was it? Not when she felt so good against him. He could stop her later, remind her about… what was his name? His best friend? Jenna’s boyfriend? It would come to him later, surely, when he wasn’t so… distracted.

As rational thought dulled, his senses sharpened. It was vividly, achingly apparent that Ben’s body welcomed the assault, even as it befuddled his mind. Everywhere Jenna’s lips and tongue grazed him, his flesh tingled, so sensitive to the heat and friction she wantonly lavished on him.

Their height difference had been negligible before their abduction, but had grown nearly two inches in Ben’s favor since he’d been optimized. Not that it mattered to Jenna. Her presence overwhelmed him. She burned with such furious lust that Ben’s objections withered and evaporated under her. She practically crawled up him, climbing Ben like a mountain to be conquered. He became aware, some moments after it happened, that his hands had picked her up under her thighs. Only the stability of the table-thing kept them both upright.

Ben’s cock was trapped between them. Squeezed by the heat and weight on top of him. Smeared with the wetness leaking from Jenna’s needy pussy. He was just as hot, his cock just as needy. Both organs were urging him to… demanding him to…

Two primal, animal groans rang out when her pussy finally caught its prey. It enveloped Ben, sliding around him, inch by delicious, soaking inch.

“Ah! Jenn…” He didn’t know if he was trying to protest against her or beg for more. “Fffuck! Plea—ah!”

Jenna was even less intelligible. “Hagh! Uugh! Mmmph!”

Her lips clamped over his, muffling the loudest of their noises, letting the wet squishes of their undulating bodies fill the room. Ben’s legs burned. His lungs burned. He couldn’t conceive of letting her go or putting her down, but if Jenna didn’t let up soon, he was going to pass out, optimized body or no.

A feminine hand, draped over Ben’s shoulder a moment ago, snaked its way down between them. The sensation of Jenna rubbing down there whenever their flesh slammed together was far beneath Ben’s notice by that point; wondering why was even farther. He certainly couldn’t ignore the way it made her thrash and moan in delight, though. When she finally broke their kiss, Ben had barely enough time to take in a gasp of air before those syrup-soaked fingers were plunged into his mouth.

The juices hit his brain like a flood. Without thinking, Ben rolled his tongue around her fingers, compelled to collect more of her essence. All the while, Jenna looked down at him, manic, desperate, riding him even as she urged him to feed.

It was even honey-sweeter than her saliva, but an altogether different taste. Sophisticated. Powerful. Sensual. Quintessentially Jenna.

But more than flavor, there was information in the nectar. An imperative.

Inhuman instincts seized him. His body moved on its own, all fatigue forgotten. Ben spun them around, throwing Jenna onto her back, neither of them concerned with being gentle. Her blonde hair splayed out in a wild halo across the table-thing, and her ankles crossed behind his back. They had hardly broken stride.

Now on top, Ben rutted with a fervor to match his lover’s. Behind his glassy eyes, the bright young man was barely even there anymore. All hesitation, all confusion, was gone, replaced by an overriding biological command. The honey from Jenna’s drool had numbed his mind and inflamed his libido. The elixir from her pussy had forced what was left of him into the passenger seat of his own body. Both were vectors of her will, infecting him with her delirious arousal, driving him deeper into her insatiable pussy. His pleasure was an echo of hers, and he returned it amplified, bouncing back and forth between them, propelling them both higher

Ben hunched over her and groped her tits, following instructions Jenna hadn’t—couldn’t have—articulated aloud. Maintaining the relentless, mindless pace with his hips, he kneaded her breasts until a trickle of gold-tinged milk flowed over his mocha fingers. In the sterile lights of the habitat, the liquid gleamed with promise. Ben had no choice; his slack jaw was drawn closer by the sight of it, the scent of it, as if it were a magnet his body had no desire to fight. When his lips formed the seal around her perfect, pert nipple, he suckled.

It was rich, and cloyingly sweet, like everything else about Jenna’s new biology. The ambrosia flowed over Ben’s tongue like the smoothest cream, and warmed his belly like alcohol. Her kiss might have been an aphrodisiac, but her milk was a narcotic. It smothered him with the gentle assurance that everything would be alright. Whatever resistance was left in Ben, worrying about what his body was doing while he struggled to think, simply dissolved. Euphoria spread out from his core to his limbs, and the last fragments of his consciousness finally slipped completely into a cozy, melty place far away from reality.

The remaining shell of muscle and throbbing lust switched over to the other nipple, already programmed to do everything Jenna needed him to do. Mouthful after greedy mouthful disappeared down Ben’s throat, and that eager suction was the last spark to kick off Jenna’s orgasm. Ben obeyed her nectar and drank her milk and fucked her pussy directly into a seamless, second climax before he finally reached his limit as well.

For that instant, they were one-mind.

Ben and Jenna didn’t know how long they drifted in that state, after the intense release gave way to luxurious afterglow. They couldn’t tell one arm from another, or one leg, or one breath. Even their heartbeats were shared. But eventually, like a cell dividing, they disentangled, first in mind and then in body.

Dazed and drugged and exhausted, Ben rolled away from his lover, and couldn’t find a reason not to sink to the rubbery floor and just flop there. The stark white lights above threatened to bother his perfect contentment, so he closed his eyes. He barely noticed Jenna’s voice grazing the edge of his perception.

“Oh my god…” she said quietly. “What did we… what did I do?”

The human awoke gradually, her supine form stretching and her senses returning. Uukati stood over her, a pace away, observing patiently.

Her subject had been in a dreamless sleep, bearing no resemblance to the wild, libidinous hallucinations from the night cycle before. Much to Uukati’s relief. It was more like watching a plant gently bloom toward the dawn; thoughts and impressions sprouted and unfolded into a full, placid consciousness.

A distinctly different consciousness than before.

Despite all efforts to control her physical reactions—and Uukati had been impressed at Lin’s outward composure—the human had had no chance of hiding her fear from the Researcher leading into her encounter with the Cerulean. But now there was no fear, nor confusion, nor doubt. Her mind was clear and sure. Orderly. It was most pleasing to Uukati’s sensibilities.

Not that her fellow humans would know it by looking at her. The scent of singed hair and ozone still lingered in the air of the chamber, and the long, dark locks on the human’s head were frizzy and unkempt. Her skin, before so pale, now bore a slightly pink tint.

Are you able to stand? the Researcher asked gently.

The question rippled through Lin’s mind, like a pebble in a still pool. She was surprised for an instant, but the anxiousness that had previously followed never did. Curiosity rose in its stead. To answer, she stretched once more, then rose.

Uukati was the one surprised when she met the human’s eyes. They had changed.

It was not that she had never seen blue eyes before. She had studied the data on human anatomy collected by previous expeditions. She knew of the dizzying array of phenotypes their species expressed in size and shape and pigment. Nearly one in ten had blue eyes, among other rich hues. But the eyes of Lin Chang were no longer altogether human.

Two glittering discs of bright azure were aimed at Uukati, as though sharply cut sapphires had replaced Lin’s irises. Their crystalline facets scintillated in the light of the chamber. What a striking visual phenomenon… The Researcher soon realized she had lost track of how long she had been studying them. The human had taken notice.

I must complete an examination before I can return you to your habitat.

The subject nodded, saying nothing, only staring while Uukati approached. Unlike Patricia Ross after her experimentation, Lin Chang showed no apprehension at the prospect of being handled. Lin watched Uukati take her wrist with detached interest, as though she were studying the Researcher right back.

Slender, grey fingers traced up Lin’s arm, causing bumps to raise from the bare skin. There were definitely superficial radiation burns; no worse than the humans’ own star could deliver, but they were recorded nonetheless. Testing protocols would have to be updated accordingly. Uukati would suggest the Cerulean keep a greater distance during future experimentation.

Are you in any discomfort?

“I feel… different,” Lin replied. For a moment, the human’s gaze flicked downward, then returned to Uukati. “They changed me.”

The Researcher could detect little emotion connected to that statement. In what way? Please describe what is different.

Lin flexed her fingers, her brow knitting in thought. “There’s a feeling in my… everywhere. It’s like a vibration. My body is humming.”

It was a vivid metaphor, typical of their imaginative language. Uukati considered its meaning, and what relation, if any, it might have to her subject’s new ocular mutation. Likely an auditory hallucination from lingering neural stimuli. Or a temporary hypersensitivity to the chamber’s instrumentation. Or…

Was it possible…

Slowly, the Researcher brought the human’s hand closer. Lacking any kind of cartilaginous cup around her ear, her hearing was not as sharp as the earthling.

And yet she heard it.

The human was humming. Softly, yes, but once Uukati heard it, it was unmistakable. She had spent enough time in proximity to them to recognize the resonant frequency of the Ceruleans’ crystalline bodies.

Immediately, Uukati mentally summoned a report from the chamber’s sensors. She hoped the human didn’t notice the tremble in her fingers as she continued the motions of the examination. Luckily, the initial scans were completed in moments, and indicated Lin Chang’s vitals were fine. Better than fine, even. All data pointed to a calm, healthy, strong human. A deeper analysis would have to be performed later.

Is the sound distressing? the Researcher asked.

Lin lifted her hand out of Uukati’s and examined it. “No. It’s kind of nice. Like there’s a new energy flowing through me. Or… one that was always there, but I couldn’t feel it.”

That hand clenched into a fist for a moment. Lin smiled. “I’d like to go back now.”

Uukati nodded, the gesture smoother than her attempt yesterday, but still not quite right. She was already outlining her report for the Overseer. Indeed. I will return you. We shall see how your companions have occupied themselves while you were away.

Woah... That was… weird.

Not even at the most alcohol-soaked frat parties had Max experienced such a total blackout. For one thing, he wasn’t hungover at all. Everything was just… fuzzy.

It was more like the time he tried to flirt with that anesthesiologist before his wisdom teeth were taken out. One second he was telling her how her scrubs matched her eyes, then he blinked, and his mouth hurt and every cavity in his skull was full of cotton.

Thankfully there was no pain this time, or nausea. Just the sense that his train of thought had been cleanly severed by a guillotine of blinding static. It was over in an instant, leaving him bereft of any mental momentum whatsoever. If only Max could remember…

“What did we… what did I do?”

That was Jenna’s voice. She had been sitting next to him, across from Ben. What had they been talking about?

Ben was… messing with our collars, or something?

Max opened his eyes. The blurry, featureless white in front of him clarified into the crisp, featureless white of the habitat’s ceiling.

Wait, I’m lying down? Wasn’t I sitting at the table?

As he rediscovered the direction of gravity, and noticed the feeling of yielding squishiness against his back, Max wrangled enough motor control to sit up. How did he end up in one of those stupid beanbag chairs?

“H-Hey, Jen?” he croaked. Shit, his mouth was so dry. He wiped the drool from his lip and found his way to his feet, casting his gaze around the room as the last few cotton balls shook loose from his brain.

She was sitting there, on the weird table. Naked.

Huh?

Instantly, Max was alert. And naively optimistic, before other details started filtering in. Legs crossed. Shoulders slumped. Hugging her own elbows. Hair tousled in a way Max was intimately familiar with. He’d never seen her so… small.

“Jenna?” he said. “What’s…”

She wasn’t looking at him. Max followed her eyes to the floor. That’s where Ben was. Naked too.

Huh...

An icy weight settled in Max’s chest.

“What…”

Ben, his best friend, was laid out on the floor. Ben’s limp cock, shiny and wet, had flopped over his thigh. Max could hear a faint snore.

Sharp pain stole his next few heartbeats.

“The…”

Jenna jumped up, tense as spring. “Max, plea—”

“FUCK!”

The booming shout startled Ben an inch off the ground. A wave of twinkling light swept out from his collar across his body, as if sensing he would need his suit. It wouldn’t protect him.

“What the fuck!” Max repeated, storming forward. His hands balled into fists, as tight as his jaw.

His blood hadn’t gotten boiling like this in a while. The jealousy. The anger. They had gotten him a reputation, when he and Jenna started dating. She turned a lot of heads, and it got under his skin.

So he answered in kind. When other guys looked, he gave them looks. When they got a little physical with her, he got physical with them. He just couldn’t stand the idea of anyone disrespecting his girlfriend. His possessive temper had gotten him into more than a few fights, and even a jail cell.

The one thing that had pulled him out of it had been the very thing he was afraid of: losing his angel. Jenna had given him a simple ultimatum. She wouldn’t attend a college campus that was as terrified of her boyfriend as their high school had been. Either he had to learn to trust her, or she would leave.

That had been a shock, seeing her hurting and yet resolute, as she told him he was on his last chance. One more jealous rage, and she was gone.

Since then, Max had manned up and worked to get over himself. It wasn’t easy, but Jenna was worth it. She was a big girl who could take care of herself, and had never given him a reason to doubt her. If he had doubts, that was just some stupid insecurity talking. It certainly helped that, every time he’d felt those feelings coming on, he’d wrangle them down until he could bring them to Jenna and work them out. Usually with a good hard pounding.

Speaking of pounding…

“Waitwaitwait!” Ben scrambled backwards across the floor, sputtering and trying to put as much space between them as possible. “Hold on! I didn’t… I don’t… I’m sorry!”

Max shook his head. “You fucked her! My girl! While I was sitting over there, knocked out!”

But how did I get… Son of a- “You motherfucker! You did it. You were messing with my collar, and you zapped me, all so you could get alone wi—”

“What? No! It’s not like that!” Ben’s eyes were wide, going back and forth between Max and Jenna. He’d finally found his feet, but was completely backed up against the smooth, hard habitat wall. “I was just testing different things, trying to figure it out! I had no idea it would—”

“Shut up!” Max snapped. The physical sting had bloomed into a deep, burning ache. “How could you, man?”

It wasn’t one of his varsity football teammates. It wasn’t one of his drunken frat brothers. Of all the guys out there, why had it been Ben? Even at his worst, his most irrationally jealous, Max had never, in a million years, thought that Ben would make a move on Jenna.

That was why, when Ben tried to answer, Max punched him in the gut. He didn’t want to hear it. He didn’t want to listen to any lies or excuses. He just wanted to make Ben hurt even a fraction as much as he was hurting right now.

Already gasping for breath, Ben was helpless to defend against the next blow, or the one after that. Max could hear Jenna’s voice, but her words were lost behind the pulse pounding in his ears. He heard other voices too, the other girls emerging from their room, alarmed at what they were seeing.

Max ignored them all. They would just try to talk him down. They didn’t understand: he needed to fight Ben. Even if he lost Jenna forever, he had to. If he didn’t fight, that would make him some kind of pathetic bitch. The kind of worthless worm who just let other men fuck his woman and was too weak to stop them.

That kind of sissy would probably get off on that sort of thing.

Max kicked Ben—who was now on the floor, groaning and wheezing—in the side.

“Get up, you fucker!” Max bellowed. “Get up!”

Ben just coughed.

Even with several pounds more muscle mass than before, lifting Ben to his feet didn’t pose a challenge to an adrenaline-wired Max. Small hands pulled on his arms, pounded on his back, fruitlessly trying to break them apart. He barely even felt them. He was focused on pinning his friend against the wall. The traitor squirmed, but he seemed to have no spine for fighting back.

Max pulled a fist back. “Nothing else to say? Huh, asshole?”

There were tears in Ben’s eyes. It was then Max realized there were tears in his own. “I-I’m sorry,” Ben said, weakly reaching out for Max’s neck. “Please… stop.”

There was a flash of green.

Max stopped.

From the moment Sophie followed Trish back into the common room, the scene was pandemonium. Max was shouting and hammering Ben with his fists. Jenna was naked, trying to get his attention. And Ben was pinned against the wall, doing a poor job of protecting himself. It was a far cry from the mood she’d left them in, joking with each other and drinking alien breakfast sludge. It was patently surreal. Sophie could only stare with mouth agape.

Trish, on the other hand, leapt into action. With two nimble bounds and zero hesitation, she was on Max. “Hey! Beak it up!”

But even with both of them, the women weren’t strong enough to pull Max away. It seemed like nothing would be able to stop him from finishing the beating he’d started for… no reason Sophie could possibly imagine.

Although… There was one explanation. The pieces of the puzzle were scattered in all the confusion and noise, but there weren’t that many of them, and they fit together pretty easily. Jenna naked. Max on the attack. It was a common trope in the trashy romance novels she loved. Men fighting over a woman. Ben had fooled around with Jenna, and Max found out. It couldn’t be simpler.

But that was absurd. It couldn’t have happened that way. Ben simply wouldn’t do that. He would never…

He’d never what? Seduce a totally unavailable girl and claim her like a wild stallion? Fuck her so hard she forgets things like commited relationships and sexual orientations? The Ben from Earth might never, but this Ben did it last night!

Sophie didn’t know what to believe anymore. Especially when the fight ended.

It happened so quickly that the silence startled her. One moment, Max was yelling at Ben, and Trish was yelling at Max, and nobody was really listening to anybody. And then… it was over. Max’s collar activated, leaving him oblivious to the world.

Instinctively, Sophie retreated from the wall where the door was about to open, and the aliens were about to appear. Only… they didn’t. Even after a long, tense moment, the only sounds in the room were Ben’s labored groans and Trish’s pants of exertion. Jenna and Sophie herself were both deathly still, barely daring to breathe.

The only one breathing calmly and easily was, ironically, Max.

“Jesus tapdancing Christ,” Trish panted. “What was that all about?”

It was a question Sophie wanted the answer to as well, but she stayed back, tongue-tied and uncertain as usual. Jenna and Ben shared a glance that could only be described as guilty. Damning, even. Still, neither of them answered.

“Hey, woah, easy there. You should sit down.” Trish wasn’t wrong. Ben’s eye was already swelling shut, and it didn’t sound like he could take a full breath in. He didn’t seem fit to be shuffling across the room.

“S’okay,” he groaned, clutching his side. “I’m just g’nna… go lay down… in my room.”

Trish grabbed him, eliciting a clenched grunt. “Wait, hang on.” She tilted his head toward the light above, and pulled up his good eyelid to inspect him. For another test, she waved a finger back and forth in front of his eyeline. “Hmph… alright,” she finally said, not actually sounding very satisfied.

While he disappeared into his room, Trish approached Jenna with even more caution, despite her appearing completely uninjured.

“So… we gotta talk about…whatever that was,” Trish said. She glanced over at Max. He was still insensate, standing stock-still without an apparent thought in his head. Trish frowned. “Come on.”

Taking Jenna by the hand, Trish started to lead her away. Jenna didn’t resist. All her serenity and poise had vanished. She looked shell-shocked.

“Hey, Soph,” Trish said. It was enough to remind Sophie she was actually present in the room, and not just watching events as an invisible observer. She had done so little to help, it made sense that everyone would forget she was even there, including herself.

“Y-yeah?” she replied, trying not to sound as scared and timid as she was.

“I’m gonna take Jenna into my room and make sure she’s okay.” Ordinarily, Sophie might have taken that as another ruse from Trish to get some alone time with Jenna, but Trish’s face had none of its usual mirth. “Can you stay out here and keep an eye on him? I don’t want her out here when he snaps out of it, at least until we know he’s cooled down.”

Sophie turned back to Max. There was still nobody home there. He was completely harmless. No, he was even less than that. He was completely helpless. For now.

“Um, sure. I can do that.”

Trish’s smile was weak, but grateful. “Thanks. We’re gonna make it through this. We have to.”

And then they were gone too. Sophie was alone.

With Max.

She didn’t have any idea how long he would be out of it. The day before, Ben had seemed to shake it off after a few minutes, but he hadn’t been as strongly affected as Max was right now. Maybe the collars had different settings, or people had different reactions to it. He certainly didn’t look like he would be waking up any time soon. He was merely standing there, facing the wall, every muscle in his body completely slack, except the bare minimum needed to remain upright.

That was an awful lot of relaxed muscles. Sophie rarely had the confidence to look directly at Max when he was awake. And when she did, it was like looking at the sun; there was so much power and attractiveness in one body that it could only contrast against her lack of either.

But since he wasn’t really awake… she could look all she wanted. Jenna wasn’t around. There was no danger of awkwardness from getting caught staring. Physically, Max definitely fell within the realm of Sophie’s “type.” He was the kind of beefy brute who could throw her around with barely any effort. Who could overcome her squirming protestations with raw, unbridled masculinity.

What could it hurt if I take a look?

It was kind of thrilling, in a way. With Max in his skin-tight suit, unmoving, Sophie felt like she was appraising a statue in a museum or a mannequin in a store. She circled him slowly, taking in every contour and bulge of definition. All while he was completely unaware. I’m becoming quite the voyeur lately, I guess

There was one bulge that was especially… bulgy at the moment. Sophie’s cheeks burned at the sight, and her mind flashed with the image of his hard cock when the Overseer had dragged him through the common room mid-coitus. It seemed whatever else the collar did to him, some part of him seemed to be enjoying its effects.

That made it okay, on some level, right? If Max was getting something out of it too? There would be no victim if she were to get a closer look at things she could probably glimpse at a more discrete distance any other time. By the time this rationalization solidified in her mind, Sophie was already crouching down. Next to Max’s crotch.

His suit was thin as a latex glove, stretched nearly to the breaking point. Had it been so thin a moment ago? Sophie could see every detail of his erect member beneath that flimsy barrier. Watch every twitch push against it. She could practically feel the heat radiating off him. It was almost as if Max was wearing nothing at all.

The mousy woman was transfixed. Why do these boys have to be so stupidly sexy? With their strong, chiseled bodies and their hot, firm… throbbing…

The sensations in her imagination were suddenly more vivid. Suddenly more tactile than abstract. She looked down at the rod in her hand and gasped.

Ohmigoshohmigoshohmigosh! W-When did his cock pop out? When d-did I-I grab it? Ohmigosh!

It had to be a hallucination. Or some kind of compulsion. Obviously it was the aliens’ doing, whatever the case. Because Sophie would never have the guts, the boldness, to grope her defenseless friend.

Max’s eyes fluttered. A relaxed groan slipped out of him. Sophie was sure he would snap right out of it, and she would be more humiliated than she’d ever been in the twenty years of her shy, timid life.

After a moment of wincing in dread—but not, she noticed afterward, letting go—Sophie glanced up. Max was just as spaced-out as before, still not acknowledging anything but the wall in front of him.

“Um, M-Max?” she said softly. “Can you hear me?”

“Hnn?” His brow furrowed, ever so slightly, then smoothed again. “Yeah.”

If he knew that his penis was held lightly in her hand at that moment, he didn’t show it. Sophie wasn’t sure if she was relieved about that, or disappointed. If she was going to do something so daring, even accidentally, was it so much to ask for someone to actually notice? Everything about the abduction seemed intentionally engineered to frustrate Sophie, to turn her on so badly but never let her get off. The aliens would experiment on her friends, and her friends would hook up with each other, all while she watched from the sidelines.

If that was the case, maybe it was time to take matters into her own hands. So to speak.

“Max… your collar was activated.” Sophie rose to upright, but didn’t relinquish her tentative grip on his cock. “That means you’ll listen to me, right?”

“Yeah,” he murmured in reply.

Sophie bit her lip; her other hand traced against his abs where the suit had retreated further upward. Soon his chest would be exposed too. “That means you’ll do whatever I say.”

It was difficult to tell, but she thought his cock throbbed even harder.

Summoning all of the gumption and all of the guile Sophie possessed—not to mention a deep, steeling breath—she put together her plan. “So, um… Max? Jenna… she really messed up. B-But she’s sorry. She told me. She s-said… she said…”

The words caught in her throat. Did she really have the nerve to go through with it? Or would she just slink away, horny and alone again? The heat and hardness enclosed in her fingers urged her onward, and the need frothing in her own loins agreed. “Jenna said you get a free pass.”

At first, Max merely blinked a few times. But something approaching puzzlement crossed his otherwise placid, handsome features. “Free pass…” he repeated.

“That’s right,” Sophie said. Her voice had lowered, now soft and breathy. “She wants you to get even. That way things will be fair and you won’t need to be mad. She says you’re allowed to… to fuck me.”

Her hand stoked up and down Max’s cock, going faster with each feverish sentence. The poor girl knew she really shouldn’t be lying and taking advantage of Max this way. But Max wasn’t the most mature guy either. Maybe it really would help smooth things over if he got even. Provided he remembered anything when he snapped out of it. That slim possibility assuaged Sophie’s guilt for the time being.

“Do it, Max. Take out all that anger on me. Give it to me! Pin me against the wall and—”

Max lunged, and all at once, Sophie was spun around with her face squashed against the wall Max had just been staring at. Before she could do more than gasp, another wall was pressing against her from the other side; a wall of solid, sweltering muscle. His grip was vice-tight, immovable, and Sophie’s only recourse was to squirm ineffectually against him.

“Ahhn!” She tried her best to stifle the moan. She didn’t want anyone to hear. If anyone heard, they might try to stop this. “Oh God! Please, take me…”

The body crushing her didn’t take long to comply. With her suit disintegrating under the heat and friction, Sophie was soon completely exposed to the air. She burned with embarrassment at her own nudity, but it only added to the delirious passion blossoming outward from her core and trickling down between her legs. When Max dragged his lips up her neck and over her collar, she shivered. When he explored, indelicately, her aching pussy with his fingertips, she whimpered. And when his hardness rested against the crack of her butt, she couldn’t hold back the guttural groan of anticipation that boiled out of her.

She put more effort into her struggles, but it was no use. He was far to strong, too masculine, too big. She couldn’t possibly stop him. And it was perfect. Sophie needed this. She needed this so badly she wanted to cry.

“Ah, no!” she whined, slipping into her most lurid fantasies of ravishment and rapine. All of her defenses were laid bare, and all her pleas were swept aside. She was the innocent victim of this barbarian, blameless in her trembling ecstasy, overwhelmed by his power, helpless to stop his manhood from plundering her most forbidden, shameful places. “Please, stop… Don’t… don’t…”

Max had stopped.

He loomed over her, frozen where he was, his leaking cock firmly hotdogging her ass-cheeks and holding her to the wall. Still as a statue.

“Wha… why… why did you…” All her intellect had melted into a puddle of horny mush, so it took Sophie a moment to recover some semblance of her wits. One moment, Max had been a heartbeat away from roughly fucking her the way she’d always wanted someone to, and the next he just…

“You stopped,” she whispered, the reality crashing over her, “because I told you to stop.”

Max wasn’t a lusty brute who wanted to conquer and claim Sophie as a sexual prize. He had been zapped by his collar and was just mindlessly obeying her commands. He’d groped her because she told him to, and stopped because she told him to. That wasn’t ravishment. It was fake. A pathetic lie.

Sophie gritted her teeth and rubbed against Max’s hard-on, desperate to recapture the magic of her fantasy. But it was too late. The moment was ruined. All her arousal slipped through her fingers, leaving her holding nothing but bitter frustration.

“Back up!” she barked, fighting back tears. “Let me go! Just… just forget it!”

When there was enough room for her to squeeze out from between Max and the wall, she fled to her room, wishing once again—and even more fervently—that she could just go home.

Max didn’t even watch her leave. He only stared at the wall, waiting. A minute later, his suit rematerialized. A minute after that, the habitat door opened, snapping him out of his trance.