The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

It was likely that Max expected the two of them to strip off and start fucking as soon as the door closed behind them. In his predictions, Lin would handle him roughly, and he’d do some groveling, and then she’d ride him to their mutual satisfaction. And Lin didn’t actually have an issue with any of those steps, in the abstract; that all sounded like quite a pleasant way to spend the “free pass” Jenna had given him. The one she had all but demanded Max cash in.

The fact that Max would be expecting it diminished its appeal, though. This wasn’t about what he expected, or what he wanted. Lin was in charge here. It was all about what she wanted. And she could do better than that.

Lin took a seat on the edge of the bed-pod and nodded to the floor in front of her. “Kneel.”

For a moment, Max, with his dazed expression and prominent erection, didn’t react. It took a single raised eyebrow to communicate how promptly she expected him to obey.

“Oh yeah,” was his uninspired choice of reply, but he slammed to his knees with a gratifying alacrity.

That won’t do. Lin leaned forward and slapped his cheek. It didn’t have any real force behind it, but the sudden noise and sting snapped him into something closer to alertness. It also made his cock twitch rather conspicuously. “Would a ‘Yes mistress’ kill you?”

“Yes Mistress,” he said, reaching to touch where she’d slapped, but letting the hand drop again. Max’s eyes fell down to Lin’s dangling shins. “I mean, no Mistress.”

“That’s better,” she said. “Now, how about we have a little chat, eh?”

“Uh okay.”

Lin arched her eyebrow again. Max blinked. “Mistress,” he added, hastily.

“GOOD BOY,” Lin said, and she could actually watch the crystalline vibrations of her voice hit his ears, rattle the brains between them, shiver down his spine, and send his cock into spasms. Her own nethers tingled with glee at the sight.

“I’ve always thought you were a bit of an asshole. Not a monster, but arrogant. Entitled. The whole frat-boy, macho man thing you’ve got going on? It gets old. Your whole life, you’ve gotten everything you’ve ever wanted. The only thing you’ve ever had to work for was Jenna, and now that’s hanging by a thread.”

Still fighting through the thunder of Lin’s special voice, Max had no defense against her gleeful prodding. He could only clench his fists and groan pathetically.

“Maybe this whole abduction situation is really a blessing in disguise. It’s taken you down a peg. From now on, I’m going to start getting everything I’ve ever wanted, and you’re going to earn everything you get. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes Mistress,” he blurted. He looked dizzy, swaying slightly on his knees. His gaze went in and out of focus as it drifted down to her bare feet.

“In fact, I bet that’s why you get off on this kind of treatment. Deep down, you know you’ve had it easy. You’re a blond-haired, blue-eyed, all-American hunk of pretty-boy man meat. Door after door just opens up for you. If a strong woman came along, exposed your bullshit machismo and punished your entitlement, that would balance the scales, wouldn’t it? Wouldn’t that be fair?”

“Yes Mistress,” came his desperate refrain. Lin could get used to it. Max would get used to it.

From her perch, she twirled her foot, as if stretching out a sore ankle. Max’s eyes were so fixed on it, his head made tiny circles too. “I’ve recently come into the idea that I might be just such a strong woman. What do you think?”

He affirmed again, but Lin wanted more. “Tell me what you think of me, Max. How do I make you feel? Be specific. BE HONEST.”

Max rocked backward, his jaw dropping halfway down as he lost control of it, the confessions pouring out of him a moment later. “You’re so different. You do that thing with your voice, and… I can’t help myself. Even when you don’t do it, I feel this totally new energy coming from you. It… it’s so dominant. So powerful. So strong. Stronger than me…”

Max was pausing as he spoke, but Lin could tell it wasn’t from hesitation or resistance. He simply struggled to put his new conception of her into words.

“Fffuuck, Lin,” he said, fumbling for some anyway. “It’s so intense. Scary. I don’t know if it’s what the aliens did to me, or what you’re doing to me, but the way you look at me… It’s exactly how the women look at me in my… in my fantasies… Oh God… I don’t want to tell you this stuff, but I can’t stop. You did your voice thing, and I just have to say it. It makes me feel so weak and pathetic, and that makes me feel so horny and hot, and saying that out loud makes me feel so perverted and dirty, and… and…”

“Sh-sh-shhh…” Lin cut him off. She could have let him go all day, and he probably would have, but something else had her attention. Somewhere during his soul-baring stream of consciousness, Max’s stiff cock had torn free of his suit, and now bobbed angrily in the open air, slick with precum.

“Hmm, what have we here?”

She extended one dainty foot to the member, letting her toes brush it. His cock leapt away as if she’d startled it, but after a few more throbs, she had it pinned between her toes and his abs. There it pulsed, harder and hotter than anything Lin had ever touched before. It was Max’s entire being, all his strength and masculinity, his body and soul, distilled and focused into a single point of raging lust. It felt powerful.

And it belonged to her. Fuck, all of it belonged to her.

A tremor of liquid pleasure trickled down Lin’s spine. Her toes dragged up and down along its length, smearing the precum flowing from the tip and enjoying the way it jerked with each stroke. All the while, Max squirmed and whimpered and stared down at the action in undisguised disbelief. When she finally withdrew, there were strings of precum hanging between her spread digits.

He looked up at her, yearning for the lost stimulation. A piercing cerulean gaze met his, and then flicked down to her foot.

She didn’t need to say a word. He got to work cleaning up his mess.

Lin didn’t have a thing for feet, and she suspected Max probably didn’t as well, except in the way that worshiping feet was generally debasing. That didn’t stop him from moaning whorishly around her toes as he licked and sucked each one. Somehow, those noises and the sloppy attention sent a surging current straight to her pussy. She almost reached down to touch herself, but stopped.

No… If I can’t control myself, how can I enjoy controlling someone else? There’s no need to get myself off. That’s his job now.

She wasn’t the only one in need of relief. Max was jerking his cock even as he cleaned, seemingly lost in his own little world of humiliation and servility. A world that extended no further than Lin’s ankle and his own aching prick. Speaking of self control…

With delicate but insistent care, Lin pulled her foot away. The moment it was clear, she slapped him again. Stunned, red-faced and shiny with slobber, Max blinked at her.

“Hands off, slut,” she snapped. He instantly obeyed. Lin wiped her foot on his bare chest—at some point his suit had dissolved—leaving a smear of his own saliva across his skin. “YOU CAN’T CUM WITHOUT MY PERMISSION.”

Max trembled as the command sank into his brain, and he nodded dumbly, earnestly. There was nothing else he could do.

“Good boy,” she said, her smile warming. Her fingernails, freshly painted black before they left on their trip, were not long, but still sharp enough to tear a hole in her thinning suit just below the collar. Lin dragged that tear down between her breasts and over her navel, until the material split and revealed her glistening vulva.

Her eyebrow raised, and Lin smirked. “Get to work.”

The hapless hunk was drawn to her pussy by a force stronger than gravity. “Yes Mistre-mm…” he said, failing to get the word out before his lips grazed her inner thigh, kissing and nuzzling and nibbling his way inward. He inhaled deeply, shuddered, and began to lick. Lin laced her fingers through his short brown hair, gripping, guiding, and gently pressing him closer.

“Fffuck…” Lin purred. “I really shouldn’t be—mmmhh—surprised. We all heard Jenna’s whore-moaning in the tent the other night. So I knew you’d be… be good at this. But I didn’t expect you to be th-this g-good…”

Each little morsel of praise, each sigh of pleasure, each time Lin said “good,” she was treated to the sight of Max’s shoulders and back flexing in sympathy. Whenever he briefly came up for air, Lin felt his breath wash over her pussy in short, hot pants. He was like a mighty stallion, and she was breaking and bridling him. All those muscles, all that sexual skill. All hers.

Relaxing and laying her back on the bed-surface, Lin closed her eyes. “Hrrrmm… I can’t believe Jenna was keeping you all to herself. What a greedy bitch!”

She chuckled playfully. “Maybe I should punish her, too. Would you like that, Maxy-boy? Oooh yeah… To sit by and watch as I take charge of your girlfriend too? I could play with both of you, like my own Barbie and Ken dolls, life-size and… Ahh! And anatomically correct.”

Lin knew she was babbling, but she didn’t care. It heightened her pleasure to let all these fantasies flow out of her. And besides, Max had better things to do than carry on his half of a conversation.

“Now that I’ve got you, I don’t plan on letting you go. This ‘free pass’ may make you even with J-Jenna, but I’m not going to be satisfied with a one-and-done. I’m going to keep using you, over and over, whenever I want. So to keep things fair, I guess Jenna gets a side piece too. Isn’t that right? Maybe Ben could oblige.”

Tilting her head up and peeking through one eye, Lin saw her boytoy’s entire body flush crimson. It elicited a throaty goan of contentment from Lin as she settled back down into her erotic ramblings.

“Naturally, I’d get a front row seat while he takes another turn with your girlfriend. A nice bench, provided by you on all fours. You’d get to feel my juices pooling on your back, and hear her scream as she cums over and over. Or maybe I could ask Ben to zap you stupid, and make you stand there like a coat rack. They could have their fun in the same room as you, without you even knowing it. You’d only be able to tell by the way Jenna tastes afterward.”

The most pathetic whimper yet escaped from between Lin’s thighs, and she knew that was enough knife-twisting for now. She wanted to push him into submissive frustration, not a nervous breakdown. From that point she kept the increasingly creative scenarios she was imagining to herself and focused on the attention Max was lavishing on her pussy. Just as Lin sighted the first waves of an orgasm, however, she noticed him losing his stride. She frowned and lifted her head off the bed-pod.

“Is something wrong?” she said, both curious and impatient. He wouldn’t slow down without a reason.

Max met her eyes with delicious reluctance. “Mmm… it’s just… you’re humming.”

Was she? Lin hadn’t been holding back her noises. They would train Max to please her, after all. But now that he’d mentioned it… Lin strained her ears, and found it. A sound hanging in the air, one she recognized instantly. An ethereal chord that was the same frequency as the CERULEAN, ringing out from… her. Her body. It was singing, like a crystal wine glass rubbed around the rim by a wet finger.

With her pulse and breathing slowing, though, the sound slipped away, back beneath the threshold of hearing.

“Don’t worry about it,” Lin said. It was just another gift from her alien friends, like her new perspective. Or her power over Max. “Just get back to work, and don’t stop until I say so.”

He did, and it was only a few minutes before the humming returned. This time, Max continued without pause, and the sound grew in volume and pitch to match Lin’s rising pleasure. It suffused her gasps and groans, giving them strange and tantalizing harmonics that tickled her ears and sent sizzling tingles from her toes to her scalp.

I’m my own vibrator, she thought, feeling the waves of pleasure and sound meeting deep in her clit, enhancing every dutiful stroke of Max’s tongue. Lin wondered if she could get to an equilibrium, where her arousal would cause her body to vibrate, and the vibrations would keep her on the edge all by themselves, with no need for any other stimulation. Could she balance herself on the precipice of orgasm indefinitely?

Before she could contemplate the possibility any longer, that very orgasm spiraled out of her control and crashed through her body. Her thighs clamped around Max’s head, her fingers grasped his hair, and she bucked on the bed-surface in violent ecstasy.

“Oh fuck! Fuckinggg… Ah! I’mm cumminnngg!”

Max certainly didn’t need the announcement, and it was doubtful he could even hear it. As Lin climaxed, her body’s resonance reached its own crescendo. A bone-tingling note filled the air like the peal of a church bell.

For a time, the tiny room reverberated with the tone. As its echoes faded, and the spasms of the climax died away, Lin finally released Max from her thighs. To his credit, he hadn’t passed out. As she sat up, however, Lin noticed he did seem… out of it. The hunk’s glassy eyes were aimed vaguely at somewhere a thousand yards behind her pussy, and his mouth hung open like a zombie. It reminded her of the expression he got when their alien captors zapped him into compliance with his collar.

My big “O” really scrambled his brains. Maybe I should be a little more careful when I cum...

She saw drool gathering on his lower lip, mixing with her nectar there.

Nah.

What to do now, though? Max was still hard—as hard as Lin had ever seen him, which she had done quite a bit more than she ever expected in the past couple days. It was unbearably tempting to just leave him like that, too. He’d be so desperate and pent up, he’d do anything she wanted, no voice tricks necessary. But on the other hand, that frustration might find less productive outlets, and there was already enough tension in the group without working Max into a frenzy, sexual or otherwise.

“You’ve been a good boy, Max. Do you want to cum?”

“Yes, Mistress.” The answer was somehow both flat and needy.

“Good. I’m about to give you permission. But first you have to promise me something first.” Lin sat up and cupped his glistening cheeks, guiding his blank stare upward. Once her striking blue eyes came into Max’s view, his listless gaze latched onto them. “Can you do that for me?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

No hesitation, no ego, just pure, devoted acquiescence. It was a shame that he probably wouldn’t stay this way for long. Probably. But then she could look forward to taming him all over again.

“Promise me that you’ll forgive Jenna. And Ben. We’ll figure everything else out soon enough, but you must do that for me. If you promise me that, you have my permission to cum.”

“Yes, M-Mistress. I p-promise!”

“Good boy. Go ahead and CUM NOW.” She held his face, locked on hers, while the kneeling man trembled. Max’s empty expression turned into a grimace of beautiful agony, and he made the most delightful, mewling groan Lin had ever heard. Hot liquid splashed her legs. Plenty more ended up on Max’s chest and abs.

Lin Chang flopped back onto the bed-pod, sweaty, disheveled, and with cum dripping from her feet. She’d never felt sexier.

Sophie couldn’t decide what the worst part was.

Her bed was pretty bad. It was unsettling enough that it floated there, six inches above the floor. But it wasn’t even comfortable. The half-egg sleeping pod was at once too firm and too squishy, and seemed to be made of the same gray, silicone-smooth material as the floor. It didn’t have any blankets or pillows, or any other allowances for comfort. Sophie wondered what it said about their captors, to have such technology and design something so ascetic. Or what it might say about what their captors thought of humans. Did the aliens not sleep? Did they not care? Or was it intentional, to see how their prisoners reacted to spartan conditions?

The lights were pretty bad, too. The illumination was so diffuse that Sophie hadn’t seen a shadow since she got here, and so devoid of color that she wondered what kind of sun the Interpreters might have evolved under. Was she even getting any vitamin D? Trish would know. She knows health stuff. But she’d probably just make it into a joke. “Oh, Sophie, I know where you can get some ‘vitamin D.’ Har har.”

It was probably the walls, though. They were the worst part. Too smooth, too shiny, and too white. No corners or angles, either, as the perfect plane of porcelain-like material seamlessly turned into gray rubber as it curved flat and became the floor. Their mind-numbing featurelessness spoke volumes about just how truly alien the likes of Ilaandu and Uukati were to earthlings like her. Sophie hadn’t yearned to vent her impotent despair against a flat surface so badly since her first zit appeared in the mirror back in middle school.

Under other circumstances, Sophie would have been ecstatic to study this room and its secrets. She was an anthropology major, after all. The shape and size of a room, the way it was—or wasn’t in this case—decorated, the furniture inside, the materials used, all were clues about how a culture lived and what it valued. The seventy-odd square feet that represented her quarters was a puzzle, a source of infinite speculation that could unlock insights into the minds of the Interpreters.

Knowing that it was her prison put a damper on her enthusiasm, however, and colored all her conclusions. The longer she dwelled on the scant few details she had to work with, the more inhuman and inhumane their captors became. They can cross the stars and read minds, and yet they have to kidnap us and stick us in cages to study us? And they call us primitive? Such an injustice made the room feel even smaller, its walls closer and colder, its floor harder under her bare feet.

The solution, or course, was to leave. The common room had other people to talk to, to distract Sophie from her festering unease. But Max would be out there, and she couldn’t bear to face him, whether or not he even remembered what she tried to do while he was zapped. She was caught between staying and going, between anxiety and shame.

“Argh!” She stamped her foot and pounded a clenched fist on the bed-pod for the fifth time, to the same effect as the other four. This time, though, the anxiety won out. She couldn’t be alone in this cage for one second longer. As if sensing the decision, the door swooshed open on its own initiative and startled her.

Hesitantly, Sophie peeked through the doorway. Jenna and Trish were sitting at the table, drinking from canisters of protein sludge. No Ben or Lin, but especially no Max. Was that a relief? Maybe, but only a brief one. Guilt tended to grow with time, in her experience.

“Hey Soph,” Trish chirped. “Coast is clear. I think Ben will be out resting for a while, and Max is… busy. Things should blow over pretty quick, though.”

No Max, huh? Another anticlimax. Story of my life. Sophie sighed. “And where’s Lin?”

“She’s… uh…” Trish began. She and Jenna shared a glance. Trish’s eyebrows waggled as she finished with “also busy.”

“Max and I are opening our relationship,” Jenna said, matter-of-factly, without a hint of displeasure. If anything, she seemed perfectly content. “I gave him a free pass, and I insisted he spend it with Lin. They’re having sex right now.”

“Ah. Um. Okay.” Sophie had to process that. Had the aliens replaced Jenna with some kind of porned-up clone after all? This wasn’t how she should be acting. Some of the physical changes were subtle enough to forget, if Sophie didn’t look below the shoulders, but there was still something uncanny about seeing Jenna’s face on that flawless figure. Even her scent was different, Sophie remembered, as her friend’s aura of honey and sex mingled in her nostrils.

Wait. “Free pass?” That was my idea! And it was a lie! Wasn’t it? Now Max was off with Lin, fucking her under the same premise that Sophie had tried to use to get him to fuck her. For not the first nor last time during this abduction, Sophie was dumbstruck by the unfairness of it all.

“Something bugging you, Sophie?” Jenna’s gentle voice snapped Sophie back to the present. She frowned sympathetically and beckoned Sophie over. “Want to talk about it?”

Fine choice of words, bug-lover. What, do you wanna tell me you know how I feel? “It’s tough on all of us?” Like, maybe you’re sore from all the dick you’re getting? Whatever. You don’t understand. It feels like you do... like you... like you really care... but there’s no way that you could possibly... uh…

It took Sophie a moment to realize that she was now seated in Jenna’s lap, having wandered over in the midst of her bitter reverie. That scent was so strong now, surrounding Sophie as completely as Jenna’s arms did, smothering all her laments in sweet warmth and soft skin. She blushed, but now that she was here, she didn’t want to leave. Instead Sophie rested her cheek on Jenna’s comforting shoulder.

“S’nothin,’” she said, already forgetting what she had been so upset about. “S’fine.”

“Here, have something to eat.” Trish offered a goop canister. “You’d be surprised how often, when we’re feeling off, it’s a blood sugar thing. I bet you’ll feel better with a full stomach.”

Absently, Sophie accepted the meal, drinking down the bland sludge without really thinking about it. As soon as she did, she realized just how right Trish had been. It was hard to notice hunger when her stomach was twisting with all the other worries. In Jenna’s soothing embrace, she was famished.

“I do kinda wonder about this stuff, though,” Trish said. She took a gulp of her own canister. “It’s all we’ve eaten for the past day or so. I feel great, don’t get me wrong, but I still wonder… We’ve all been pretty horned up since we got here. I know I’ve been friskier than usual, even by my standards, and clearly I’m not the only one. I mean, look at Sophie. She usually keeps a pretty tight handle on it, but now it looks like she’s about to start making out with you, Jen.”

“Am not…” Sophie mumbled, snuggling closer to Jenna. It wasn’t like she liked girls, or course. She was just… enjoying the comfort Jenna was offering. Jenna was so understanding. With a belly full of sludge and a warm, comfy friend to curl up with, Sophie was feeling better by the minute. Her nose lifted, following the scent of honey up to Jenna’s neck.

“Sure hun,” Trish said. “Anyway, you think it might be the food? Are these shakes spiked with something? They said they wanted to study our sexuality. So the more uglies we bump in here, the better. Maybe they’re giving us a push.”

“Maybe…” Jenna said, thoughtfully. Her hand stroked down Sophie’s arm. “But that sounds needlessly complicated. With the collars, they can just make us have sex. We know they could because we did it to ourselves by accident. Why bother slipping us aphrodisiacs when they can just flip a switch and we’ll go at each other like animals, and there’s nothing we can do about it?”

“B’cause…” Sophie said, tearing her face away from Jenna’s clavicle, “sex is complicated. If they wanted, they could just smash us together like naked dolls and make smooching noises, but they wouldn’t learn anything about us.”

She blushed at her own illustration, but the others giggled and set her at ease. “They don’t care about reproduction. It’s sexuality that’s interesting to them. Uukati and Ilaandu especially. They need us to be thinking and talking about sex, not just having it. All the emotions and rituals and everything.”

At least that’s what she would do, if she was an alien sent to study puny earthling culture. Sophie let her head drop back to Jenna, and stared at the empty canister on the table-thing. Was that hers? Had she already drunk the whole thing? She must have been hungrier than she thought.

“There’s gotta be more to it, though,” Trish said. “They can read our minds, right? Why can’t they just park on the roof of a nightclub and, you know, listen in? Hell, they could follow me around Sorority Row for a weekend and they’d learn plenty, no abduction necessary.”

Jenna shook her head, gently rocking Sophie. “I don’t think that would be enough. The other species can’t read our minds, and they really want to see what we’re like up close. To get their hands on us. Or claws. Or magnetic tentacles. Neither of you have had a one-on-one yet, so you wouldn’t know, but it’s a pretty intimate interview.”

Trish scoffed. “I haven’t had a turn? Those big bugs that pumped me full of syrup sure fooled me.”

“For the Concert, that was barely a polite handshake and small talk,” Jenna replied, with a smirk in her voice. “I had a pretty robust exchange of ideas with it. Ideas and… other things.” Sophie could feel Jenna’s heartbeat quicken.

Once again, Sophie became acutely aware that she was the only one in the room not getting any action. Even with just the three of them here, Jenna and Trish had shared a singular experience that Sophie couldn’t relate to. They’d both fucked alien lifeforms! Even more, they’d both fucked Ben! How was it that Jenna, who had a sexually active relationship with a steady boyfriend, and Trish, who could pick up bi-curious girls on a whim, were at the front of the line, while Sophie had to skulk around and watch as everyone else was ravished by scary aliens and hunky guys?

Jenna inhaled deeply. “Hey, are you sure you’re okay, Sophie?”

The question hit Sophie right as she had been mirroring that deep breath, and the rising scent of honey had fuzzed her brain a little. “No… Uh, I mean, yeah! Yeah, I’m fine. Everything’s great.” Even to her own ears, she sounded plaintive and unconvincing.

“Oh come on, hun,” Jenna tutted. “You’re wound up tighter than a corset in one of those books you like, and I can practically smell the frustration sweating out of you.” She clutched Sophie’s head closer, and stroked up and down the more petite woman’s thigh with her other hand.

It wasn’t enough that Sophie was feeling left out, passed over and achingly horny. Now Jenna had to point it out and bring it into the open. And even worse, Sophie couldn’t bring herself to deny it any longer. All her resentment and stubbornness were melting, replaced by Jenna’s comforting sweetness. The strokes on her thigh were getting higher, firmer, closer to the source of her tension. She wanted to deny it, but all that came out was a defeated whine.

“Hey hey, it’s okay girl,” Jenna said. “We can help. Can’t we, Trish.”

“We can?” There was a pause, and something was exchanged that Sophie, with her face buried in Jenna’s neck, wasn’t privy to. “Oh, sure we can! How about… uh, a massage? Sports medicine is kinda my thing, ya know. And I get a lot of practice outside of class.”

“Perfect. We’ll have us some girl time, and we’ll make you feel all better.”

How could Jenna possibly promise that? How could a massage soothe the burning turmoil that grew in Sophie’s heart with every encounter she watched from the sidelines? And yet no sooner had she finished the thought than Sophie found herself on her feet, being gingerly guided to the table-thing. She laid herself face-down on its not-quite-rectangular surface with a look of bewilderment. “But… I… um…”

Jenna’s insistent touch and calm voice swept aside her protests. “You start with the feet, Trish, and I’ll do her back.”

“Yeah… That sounds good.” The honied haze was getting so thick, even Trish was sounding kind of spacey. She attacked her assignment with gusto, however, and Sophie recalled all the times Trish had mentioned her reflexology classes, and how useful she’d found those skills in more intimate settings. Her hands sought out the muscles in Sophie’s dainty feet, and destroyed the tension there with practiced ease. It almost shocked Sophie how much there was to lose. Almost. In moments, her toes and arches were tingly and aching so good.

Jenna climbed up onto the table-thing, straddling the small of Sophie’s back and using her weight to pin Sophie down before she even had a chance to think about squirming away. Then, starting at the base of the skull and meandering down, Jenna rolled and kneaded every knot and pocket of stress, going vertebrae by vertebrae.

It was kind of nice, to be cared for and pampered a little. Sophie might have preferred some big, strong masseur on principle, but it was hard to complain about the treatment she was getting. Every deep stroke of pressure forced a little grunt or gasp from her, embarrassing her even as she melted into a little puddle. Warmth and contentment spread from their firm fingers.

Trish was about mid-thigh when Jenna decided that Sophie’s thinning suit was still too much material between her hand and Sophie’s shoulders. There was a tearing sound, and Sophie felt the air of the room against her bare skin. She stirred to object, but Jenna leaned down and shushed her.

“Just relax. I know what you need. Let us give it to you.” She planted a soft kiss on the nape of Sophie’s neck, drawing out a whimper of surprise. A weaker one than Sophie had expected of herself.

“Is it Christmas already,” Trish purred, “or are we opening our presents early?” Her hands left Sophie, and Sophie heard another tearing sound. Jenna shuddered on top of her and giggled. The honeyed aroma thickened in Sophie’s nose, and she heard Trish take a deep whiff. Are they going to… Right… Right on t-top of me?

“Knock it off, Trish,” Jenna snickered. “We’re here for Sophie. Get back to work.”

“Fiiine,” Trish whined, “but the clock is ticking, girl. If you leave that booty out for long, I’ll have to give it some love.”

The two of them continued, Trish working out the knots in Sophie’s thighs and buttocks, while Jenna finished her back. When they agreed it was time to flip over, Sophie was so relaxed and confused and deliriously warm, she hardly had the strength to help them, and certainly didn’t have the will. They managed without her. It was only when she was flat on her back that Sophie noticed how paper-thin her suit had become. Her legs spread a little, all by themselves, and despite her limpness, her breaths were coming in faster, and ragged. W-What’s happening to me?

“You can tell us to stop whenever you want,” Jenna said, straddling Sophie’s waist. Her own suit was little more than a second skin. “All we want is for you to feel good. Focus on that.”

Trish gave Sophie’s feet another pass, this time adding teasing little kisses to the soles, arches and each toe. When her hands traced up Sophie’s legs, the suit retreated before them, offering up naked skin to Trish’s eager fingers. First shins, then knees, then quivering thighs. Meanwhile, Jenna repeated her maneuver and tore the rubbery garment away from Sophie’s chest. All at once, the rest of it dissolved into twinkling motes of light, as if that was all it had ever been made of.

Nooo… Hot terror clawed at Sophie’s goopy brain and found a semblance of purchase. She was completely nude in front of her friends. Sophie was the kind of girl who avoided gym locker rooms and saunas like they were nuclear waste dumps. Whenever she was exposed to the bodies of other women, she was compelled to compare them to her own, and it rarely ended favorably for her. Physical exposure was just as bad as someone exposing all her dirty thoughts and shameful desires. Here, beside the uncanny perfection of Jenna and athletic sculpture of Trish, it was even worse. Only the lethargy of her well-massaged limbs kept her from trying to cover herself and run away in tears.

Jenna—gorgeous, incredible Jenna—filled her vision, looming over her. “You’re really beautiful, you know that?” she said, as if reading Sophie’s thoughts. “I know you don’t always think so, but it’s true.”

“Oh, totally!” Trish chimed in from somewhere behind Jenna. “You’ve got serious ‘girl next door’ hotness going on, Soph. I’d have made a pass at you sooner, but I didn’t want to take the chance that your heart would explode from blushing too hard.”

A megawatt smile broke over Jenna’s face. “Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to kiss you, and Trish is going to eat your lovely little pussy, and you’re going to cum all those pesky doubts and worries right out of your head. Afterward, you’ll feel like a million bucks. I promise.”

Some of the color drained from Sophie’s flushed face, and she suddenly found her voice. “B-but… I’m straight!”

“So is spaghetti,” Trish said impishly, “until it gets hot and wet.”

Jenna giggled. “Maybe you’re completely straight, maybe not completely. Like I said, you can tell us to stop at any time, and we will. But what you think you want and what I know you need are very different things right now.”

Sophie tried to say it. She really did. “Stop” stood at the end of her tongue like a diver at the end of a diving board, just the slightest push away from launching out. But she couldn’t do it. Every nerve in her body betrayed the fading whines of her brain. When the battle was finally over, a single word staggered out of her lips.

“P-Please…”

Nothing else was needed. Jenna licked her lips and brought them down to Sophie’s. Her kiss was tender, caring, and sweet. Sooo sweet… In seconds, Sophie’s anxieties were drowning in the treacly sensuality of Jenna’s lips and the saccharine gentleness of her tongue. Every reason she had to object to this was slipping away from her, dissolving into the flavor of honey. A small part of her tried to grasp at them, terrified of what might happen if she let go completely.

Then Trish’s tongue traced a circle around Sophie’s dripping labia, and she slipped two fingers inside. If Sophie’s legs hadn’t been so noodly, and she didn’t have Jenna’s weight on top of her, she might have bucked right off the table-thing.

“Woah!” Trish said with delight. “We’ve got a pent-up little princess here, Jen. Good thing I was here. Poppin’ that girl-girl cherry is my speciality.”

Neither Jenna nor Sophie broke the kiss to respond, though the latter mewled plaintively into the former’s mouth. It took another long lick to her pussy to get Sophie to come up for air.

“Oh Gawd!” she gasped. “J-Jenna… Sh-She’s… Ahh, she’s licking me…”

The blonde bombshell above her held Sophie’s cheeks. Jenna was beaming even as she panted steamy, fragrant breaths into Sophie’s face. “I know, I know… She’s licking you sooo goood… She’s so happy to give pleasure to such a wonderful, sexy woman. And so am I. I can feel how bad you need to cum, and we’re going to help get you there.”

Her hand disappeared for a moment, and Sophie heard wet schlicks mingling with Trish’s sloppy attentions. The fingers returned glistening with perfumed nectar, circling and glazing one of Jenna’s pointed nipples. White fluid dribbled out, landing on Sophie’s chest.

“Here,” Jenna whispered. She stroked Sophie’s head, and pressed the tit to her lips. “This will help.”

When she opened her mouth, Sophie was convinced it was to finally put a stop to everything. But no sound came out before the nipple went in, and she was too drunk on Jenna’s scent and compassion to resist. Her lips formed a seal and she suckled, letting the milk flow over her tongue and down her throat.

Oh. Oh God. In seconds, a fuzzy softness fell over Sophie’s brain. Her thoughts were muffled. Her thoughts were muffled! The constant barrage of noise, the “I really shouldn’ts” and “but what ifs,” every insecurity and self-reproach… one by one they fell silent. Jenna was offering an escape from it all. Sophie’s eyes crossed as she drank. She needed more. The last fear she was able to conjure, before she was fully submerged in warm molasses bliss, was just how dangerously, desperately addicting this might be for her. But then the fight went out of her, followed by the memory of the fight, and then the abstract idea of fighting itself.

Wanton, shameless moans punctuated every gulp. With Trish’s skilled tongue on her clit, and experienced fingers coaxing her g-spot, Sophie plunged fully into a leg-trembling, core-clenching, full-body orgasm. It was stronger, purer, and more profound than any release she’d ever known. Thankful tears streamed from her eyes and made Jenna’s angelic face all blurry.

Sophie wanted to thank Jenna. She wanted to tell her friend that everything Jenna had said had been right. She’d needed this. It might not last forever, but for just this moment, she’d cum out—was still cumming out—all her worries. Sophie did care if she was straight or whatever. Her heart was so full of gratitude, she would have eaten out Jenna’s and Trish’s pussies just to return even a fraction of the favor. And when she realized that would put her tongue in places that Ben’s cock had been, she came again.

She wouldn’t get the chance to repay them right now, drugged up and blissed out and limp as she was. Sophie didn’t care. She knew that Jenna knew. They were one-mind, after all.

This was crazy.

Ben sat on the floor of his tiny cell, gazing at the blank white surface of the wall and feeling it wear his mind down into a similar smoothness. That would be a relief from the tornado of jumbled, unproductive associations that cycled through his head in a loop every few minutes. Memories flashed through his mind, some clear, some fragmentary, like lightning dancing in and out of black clouds. Tampering with the alien technology with his mind. Setting off the collars, first green, then red. First Max, then Jenna. A whirlwind of animalistic fucking, sensual and intense. By the time he’d realized he’d fucked his best friend’s girlfriend, said best friend was already tenderizing Ben like a steak. Max only stopped when Ben had tampered with the collar again.

There was no way he could have known, was there? Ben hadn’t set out to do any of that. He just wanted to figure out what was happening to him, to all of them, and maybe find a way to get them some modicum of control over their unhinged situation. And yet it was his fault, all the same. He didn’t know what he was doing, but he did it anyway, and now everything was falling apart.

The craziest part was, he had already healed.

As soon as he had retreated to his room, stumbling and stinging, Ben had felt a different sensation. A deep, burning ache he’d only felt once before. Yesterday. It was the same flesh-sizzling sensation he’d felt when the Twenty-Eight had “optimized” him. As the minutes ticked by, that burning had overtaken the pain of his injuries, and slowly replaced it, then faded away in turn.

His swelling went down first. The puffy shiner Max had given him subsided and now it didn’t even feel tender. Then Ben tore open his suit to watch the purple bruises on his abdomen shrink and vanish. The scab on his split lip simply fell off. It couldn’t have been more than a half-hour, and there wasn’t any sign that Ben had gotten the worst ass-kicking of his life.

It was hard to be thankful about this miracle. Without the pain, all he was left with was guilt. And hunger. Ben was starving. And somehow horny again. Every time he thought about the fight, his mind was pulled back to what caused it, and he saw Jenna beneath him again. Golden hair splayed out, skin glowing with sweat, her strange and wonderful flavors thick in his mouth… her tightness squeezing his cock…

Those two gynoids had given him the strongest orgasm of his life the day before, and Jenna had just matched it, and yet… he was harder and more sensitive than after that week-long, zero-privacy road trip with his parents for spring break junior year.

Sighing, he tried to ignore it and looked down at his hands for the umpteenth time, trying to find answers in the lines of his palms. They were just a little too big, a little too strong. Ben was a stranger in his own body. No, not his body. Not anymore. Now it belonged to them.

He tried again to tear the collar off, like he’d done a few times already. Ben wondered if the device would trigger some kind of self-defense protocol and zap him before it would let him break it. The fact that its programming didn’t even stir told him that he wasn’t remotely close to inflicting any damage. He could find out for sure, probably, if he sent his new senses into it, but he swore off using that ability ever again. Only bad things had come of it.

Shit. I can’t sit here forever. Gotta face the music sooner or later. If Ben was lucky, Max would be in a less violent mood. Or Ben would at least get some human-chow in his stomach before Max went for round two. He stood up, adjusted his suit in an attempt to downplay his bulge, and gave up. The door swished open when he stepped toward it, and sounds of feminine pleasure washed over him.

Ben’s hunger was instantly forgotten. There were two clear, distinct voices out there, he decided. First, Trish, moaning and slurping with enthusiasm. He wasn’t proud to admit it, but it was a sound he had occasionally imagined back on Earth, when she brazenly discussed her love life. His imagination had been surprisingly accurate. The other was Jenna, cooing and gasping and murmuring softly. It didn’t take a very keen intellect to figure out what was going on out there in the common room, and Ben’s cock lurched like a dowsing rod toward the source.

There was some kind of squeaking noise too, high-pitched and repetitive. It seemed to punctuate most of Trish’s efforts, and oscillated in pitch whenever Jenna uttered another phrase. Were they fucking on one of those squishy beanbag chairs? He didn’t remember them sounding like that. Did the suit material make that noise when rubbed against itself just right? Against the furniture? The wall? Later, Ben would tell himself that curiosity had driven him to peek around the threshold of his room to see what that noise was. He would even believe it, because it was partly true. But his erection definitely had the majority stake in the decision. He expected to see Trish and Jenna having sex. And though he was right, he was still struck utterly speechless by what he found.

Sophie?

Despite everything that had happened, despite all the impossible things Ben had witnessed since his abduction, this was the most preposterous. Sophie was lying on the table-device, nude and twitching. Atop her, Jenna was straddling Sophie’s waist, cradling her head and nursing her. Between her legs, Trish was… well, doing what Trish did best.

Getting to see Sophie naked was something Ben had long ago written off. It wasn’t that he didn’t think she was cute; he’d thought about asking her out for years, but never managed to drum up the courage. The more time he had spent with her, discussing their favorite books or studying for class, the closer he had come to crossing that particular Rubicon. On countless sleepless nights, Ben had laid awake trying to figure out if there had been any signal, any hint that she might be interested too. There’d been nothing. At least nothing he could be sure about. The only way he could tell she was interested in the opposite sex at all was her voracious appetite for trashy romance novels. He just couldn’t risk her saying no. Things would become awkward, and he could lose her friendship. It might even strain the entire social circle. That outcome was unacceptable. Better to just enjoy what he had.

What Ben had was four platonic female friends, each of whom he would do anything to protect. And if each of them was simultaneously sexy in her own way and unattainable for various reasons… well, Ben would have been content just to have appreciated their beauty in silence. And occasionally at the beach or a pool party. The most exposed he had ever seen Sophie had been her wearing a conservative one-piece swimwear outfit that was so plain it could only be described as a “bathing suit.”

Until now. Every inch of Sophie was on display now. Her mahogany hair was a tossed mess, her smooth legs splayed and trembling. Ben could watch each wave of pleasure pass down her body as she drank from Jenna. It started as a gulp in her throat, becoming an arch of her back as it traveled, and ended as a buck of her hips against Trish’s face. Ben had known she was cute. But he discovered, watching her nurse and shudder and cum, that Sophie was fucking hot. Her mousy demeanor and careful composure were gone, and a different creature was sandwiched between two other stunning, naked women. A voracious sexual creature that Ben didn’t recognize.

Jenna gently whispered to Sophie again, and Ben heard that squeaking noise again. It was coming from Sophie, he realized. His heart hurt with how adorable the sound was, and his dick throbbed in primal approval. He knew intimately what Jenna’s milk did to someone. There wasn’t anything resembling a single inhibition in Sophie’s entire body right now. Ben thought it suited her.

It wasn’t long—or was it? Ben wasn’t sure how long he’d been watching—before Ben felt eyes on him.

Trish had stopped her oral performance, and a glance over Sophie’s thigh had landed her eyes squarely on where Ben’s head stuck out around the doorway of his room. Both of them froze.

Fuck. What kind of sleazy pervert spied on girls like this? Sure, any guy Ben had ever met would have bashed his head in with a rock just to take his place, but that didn’t make it okay to do it. But just as he was about to scramble back into his room and pray for death, a memory slammed into him.

“If you don’t give it to her, eventually someone else might. Is that what you want, Ben? You wanna watch?”

Trish had warned him, and now, it was coming to pass. He had told her to leave Sophie alone, to not confuse and toy with her. Trish had waited all of one day to seduce Sophie at her most scared and vulnerable. She’d probably roped Jenna into it too.

His accusation must have shown on his face and betrayed his thoughts. Trish blushed, but smirked and gave a mea culpa shrug that offered more mischief than contrition. With one last wink, she dove back into the pussy beneath her, making up for the pause. And every so often, pointedly made eye contact with Ben again. Teasing him.

Unbelievable! Ben had half a mind to storm out there and stop her horny little game. The other half was below his belt, and competing with its counterpart for blood flow. Sophie deserved better, didn’t she? Then go out there and give it to her! his cock suggested, eager and helpful as ever. That would teach Trish a little lesson about teasing. Who knows? Play your cards right and she might get curious about what she’s missing out on.

But Ben hadn’t lost enough blood to make him that stupid. Yet. He could put on such a masculine display of sexual prowess that he could get the avowed lesbian to think twice? Only in his strangest dreams could anything so porny happen. And yet the image stuck with him. He could see it with uncanny vividness: him, pinning Trish to a wall… taking her hetero virginity… in a shower?

He shook the fantasy from his head, barely able to stifle his groan. That could have been bad. All three of them might have caught him. There was no way Ben could go out there with such a massive boner and lecture Trish on taking advantage of her friends.

So he did the only thing he could do. He tore his gaze away from the all-girl three-way. He ducked back into his room. He laid on his bed-pod. He ripped away the crotch of his suit. And he stroked himself to memories only moments old.

When Ben disappeared from view, it wasn’t clear to Trish whether it was relief washing through her, or disappointment. He had been teetering on the edge of joining in, she was sure of it. Could it happen, though? Would Ben really step up and add some sausage to this clam bake? The rules had gotten awfully weird lately. Trish was trying out guys, Sophie—Sophie of all people!—was getting her first taste of girls, and Jenna’s current limits were a great, big question mark. Anything was possible!

That potential was exhilarating, but also terrifying. If Ben had made a move just now, Trish wasn’t sure she would have been able to say no to him. She could still blame their encounter last night on alien collar shenanigans. Apparently it was really easy to make them accidentally go off, and whenever they did, people ended up fucking. Trish had a perfectly valid excuse if she wanted to hold onto her gayness and pretend the whole thing had been out of her control. It wasn’t like Ben had acknowledged it yet, so she didn’t have to either. As far as he seemed concerned, it had never happened.

What if he thinks I didn’t enjoy it? If it was a collar accident, and we were both under some kind of influence, he probably thinks he took advantage of me! I bet he feels super guilty! In that case, it was no wonder Ben didn’t try to get involved. There was no way he would swagger out here and offer to take their trio to pound town if two of the three had been victims of accidental, collar-based molestation—even if, ironically, the third was the one in direst need of a good, thorough, capital-D Dicking from him specifically. The only way Trish was going to get another ride on that cock was if she went to Ben and asked for it. Otherwise, he’d give her a wide berth, and she could go back to a lifelong lesbian streak with only one tiny asterisk. That one part of her life would be normal again, at least.

Normal. Familiar. Comfortable.

Could she really go back, though? Just one primal, toe-curling affair in the shower, then swearing off dick for good? That thought made her just as anxious as the prospect of approaching Ben for another rendezvous. It was something she would have to think about.

Speaking of toe-curling, Sophie was just about to crest over another climax. Trish kept her fingers firmly stroking Sophie’s g-spot, compensating for the rolling of Sophie’s hips, and maintained a steady, relentless pace with her well-practiced tongue on Sophie’s clit until well after the peak had passed. The entire time Trish had been soul-searching and vacillating, it hadn’t distracted her from the task at hand one bit. On the contrary, she had always found that performing some cunnilingus had always helped her think. More than one moment of clarity had come to her while her brain was in a flow state and her mouth was glued to a pussy. There was just something zen about it, that combination of instinct and experience, turning cues and signals into more pleasure. She was never one to brag—actually, scratch that, she bragged a lot, to anyone who would listen—but Trish was an expert on the art of making girls cum. Each woman was a unique book, but all of them were written in a language Trish was fluent in.

It was a decent argument for sticking with girls. Nothing confusing going on down here. Just two thighs and a cunt she had tongue-fucked so stupid, it was drooling all over the table-thing. At least nothing confusing for Trish. Sophie might need some help figuring some things out afterward. Fortunately, Trish had an equal amount of experience easing straight girls into a new orientation as she did making them cum.

Just as Trish had reaffirmed her sapphic credentials, if to nobody but herself, she felt someone’s attention falling on her. It was the ghostly frisson of an unseen observer watching from afar. Hmm… I wonder if Ben is taking a second peek. Naughty boy! Maybe if the show is spicy enough, he might be convinced to get out here after all. All resolve to defer the orientation question was instantly forgotten. Trish redoubled her attention on Sophie, determined to keep her eyes on the prize, and not on Ben. If he thought he was being watched back, it might spook him again.

That just meant Trish would have to picture what he looked like over there without looking. Stroking that big, hard cock, working himself into a frenzy, until he couldn’t help himself… She would probably let Sophie get him first. Probably. It was only fair. But then Trish would naturally be next… Mmm… fuck. Come on, big guy… I know you want it…

The hand that wasn’t strumming Sophie’s insides crept down to Trish’s own pussy. God, it was good. Complicated and uncertain, but soooo good. It wouldn’t take long to get herself off. She could probably do it before Sophie got there again. Trish thought she heard someone calling her name, but was too lost in her own head to really register who. In her mind’s eye, she could picture Ben, mad with lust from voyeuring their threesome, striding up like a snorting bull. Would he take her mouth this time, demanding the same favor he’d given her in the shower, and finding places no toy had ever gone? Or would he give her the same kind of deep, raw fuck she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about since last night?

Patricia Ross. You must come with me now.

God, she was so close. Whoever was trying to get her attention, they could take a number and get in line, because she was now serving Number One. Fuck waiting her turn; Sophie would have to wrestle Trish off of Ben’s cock, and that wasn’t a contest the soft, gentle Sophie could win even when she wasn’t jelly-legged and panting. And if the voice wanted to cum with her, they would have to get caught up real quick, because she was almost there. Close! So close… I’m gonna… Ohmygawdi’mgonna…

All Trish’s doubts and fantasies, her introspections and her impending orgasm, were swallowed up in a tsunami of green light.