The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“M-Me?”

The male’s sudden anxiety struck Uukati like a splash of cool water. She held firm against the torrent of his racing thoughts.

No no nonono. It can’t be my turn yet! I still don’t have an escape plan. I don’t have any plan. I... I... You’re uh... you’re reading my mind right now, aren’t you.

She simply stared at him until he accepted. Eventually he did, looking away from her.

You will have some time to avail yourself of the facilities, she finally said, pausing to perform a few quick conversions. I will return in thirty-one minutes. Please be prepared when I do.

The door slid shut. Only once she was alone in the corridor did she allow herself a moment to examine the sensations that had come wafting out of the habitat as soon as the door opened. The most obvious was the pall of dread and uncertainty hanging over the room. In equal measure, each human had been concerned about the two who had been taken, and worried what might be in store for themselves when the time came. It was unpleasant, but the Overseer had told her to expect it.

What she hadn’t expected was a subtler stimulation: their scent. The daily life of an Interpreter was sterile and clean and perfect. Automatic systems filtered the air and cleansed the surfaces of every living and working space, often and thoroughly. Even food had been solved like an equation into an idealized nutrient blend. There was rarely much to smell or taste. These were distractions to be eliminated.

By contrast, the humans had only been inhabiting the space for a short time, and already they had marked it. The aroma of the males and females, sweaty with barely contained nerves and recently sated arousal was strong. So strong and raw and mammalian and primally alive, it was almost overwhelming. It was good they now had access to the hygiene chamber to sanitize themselves. Yes. Good.

Uukati tugged at the stretchy material of her bodysuit and let it snap back again, inhaling the puff of air that came up from her collar. For the first time she could remember, she noticed the faint scent of her own body.

Back in the room, everyone convened around the table. The others didn’t rush to question Trish and Jenna, but their anticipation was tangible. But for all their worst imaginings, the two seemed generally... fine. Jenna rushed right into Max’s lap to shower him with reassurances, while Trish splayed out in a chair with a bleary sigh.

Lin was the first to break the silence. “What happened?”

How can I even explain it? Jenna didn’t even quite understand it herself. “Well... they brought us to another area, where the Zylians live. They’re like... big bugs. But, you know, friendly?“

She glanced to Trish, hoping for a bit of support. “They brought me into their hive, and I met their Queen. They just wanted to... um... learn about us.”

Giggling drunkenly, Trish hugged herself. “Uh, y-yeah. They were really... touchy-feely. Lots of poking and... prodding...”

Their shocked expressions made her giggle even more, and she sat up, leaning into Lin. “Pshh! It’s okay, guys. Nobody’s allowed to hurt us. The alien lady said so. It all went... it all went fine. Everything’s fine...”

Lin’s nose wrinkled. “What’s that smell on your breath?” With the way Trish was acting, Lin might have expected the stink of booze, but instead it was... sweet?

“Nothing!” Trish yelped, then snorted, then devolved into another fit of laughter. “It was weird at first, but in the end it was all fine. Hey, too bad you didn’t come along! I bet you’d’a liked it! You like, uh, creepy stuff, right? Ha!”

“Okay, seriously, what the fuck happened?” Ben cut in. Trish’s current antics were more unsettling than if she’d come back with horror stories. Instead he looked to Jenna, who seemed the more lucid of the two.

“It wasn’t bad at all,” the blonde replied, more defensively than she’d meant. She could see the muscles of Ben’s face straining to stay calm, but there was no hiding his worry, his mistrust. His voice quavered in dozens of subtle ways with every word that came out of his mouth. She could smell the fear radiating from him, from all of them. A hundred tiny details, things she’d never noticed before, but now she couldn’t miss them.

“So these Zyli... the, uh, bugs. They were just curious about us. For them, everyone shares the same mind. Like a... a...”

“Like a hive-mind?” Ben blurted. “They have an actual hive-mind?”

“Yeah, exactly!” Jenna said. He was using his “talking about nerdy stuff” voice, so that was probably the right word for it. “They don’t really get the whole ‘individual’ thing we have going on. Mostly they asked me about how we... um... get along.”

She couldn’t keep the dreamy smile from forming as she relived a passing memory of her last orgasm. The taste of the jelly. The feel of the Queen’s throbbing member inside her. The bliss of melding in mind and body...

“Uh, Earth to Jenna?” Max said, squeezing her hand.

She snapped back to reality. “Yeah! It was amazing. We talked... kinda... about all sorts of things. Mostly sex, though. They were pretty obsessed with sex once we started... uh, talking.”

“Great,” said Lin flatly, “we’ve been abducted by a bunch of alien perverts.”

Max puffed up, finally showing the umbrage he couldn’t find when Jenna had first been taken. “But they didn’t hurt you? At all? Because if those slimy alien fucks tried—”

“Nonono, babe,” she quickly said, and pulled his head into her neck. “They... they did some things with me, but I’m fine. We’re both really, really fine.“

There was a pause as Max inhaled sharply. Just the hint that some other guy was looking at her the wrong way was usually enough to get his hackles up. But in this insane circumstance, where some alien bugs may have just molested her? Everyone held their breath.

Except for Max. He exhaled, his broad shoulders dropping and nose dipping into Jenna’s cleavage. “J’nna...” he mumbled, perplexed. “Ssmll... r’lly nice... D’ffrn’t.”

He took a few more huffs, his anger leaving him with each one, replaced by warmth and softness. She was so warm, and soft. So nice, and she smelled so good. Sweet. Delicious. Any reason he had to be upset was unimportant now. All he wanted now was to hold her and nuzzle her and drink in her wonderful scent.

“Different is the word for it,” Lin said. “Jenna, you look... great. Like, super hot. Way hotter than usual. She’s different, right guys?“

Lin looked around for someone to agree with her. Sophie averted her eyes and hid behind her hair. Ben held up his hands, not engaging with that particular line of questioning. Trish nodded, grinning lewdly.

“Okay, okay,” Jenna conceded. “There may have been some weird alien... juices involved, an—”

“Hell yeah!” Trish said. “It got real juicy in there!“

Jenna gave her a pleading look, glancing down at Max. He hadn’t even heard Trish, it seemed. “I mean, I do feel different. I feel better. But... it’s weird, and I’m still figuring it out, okay?“

This wasn’t going how she’d wanted. Jenna hadn’t reassured anyone. Ben was frowning, not ready to believe anything she said. Lin’s face was vaguely sympathetic, but Jenna saw cracks in the mask that she would never have noticed before, dozens of microexpressions betraying deeper doubts beneath the surface. And Sophie was wound so tightly, it made Jenna nauseous just to look at her.

They were all just as anxious as the moment Trish and Jenna had stepped back in the room. Maybe even worse. So filled with doubt. With disharmony. She hated it. It was all her fault. Jenna wanted them to see. She needed them to.

But how?

Only Max had calmed down. That was a start. In fact, he was rubbing his face all over her chest, like an affectionate cat. It was straining her suit—⁠already tight—to its limit. His cheek brushed over her tits, and his slack lips flicked over her right nipple once, then twice, as though he were homing in on it. Jenna looked down into his half-lidded eyes, and the peace she saw in them gave her a glimmer of hope.

His insistent nibbling was enough to put the bad vibes of the room out of her mind. Had her nipples been this sensitive before? A little touching, sucking and pinching before the main event always got her going, sure, but Max’s lips right now were doing magical things to her, sending electricity from her head to her toes and every pussy in between. The pleasure was building up again, as if it had never left. Fuck, I’m getting wet... That’s gooood...

The sound of a chair squeaking against the rubbery floor yanked the moment away from her. Her hips, unconsciously rolling against Max’s hot body beneath her, froze.

“Could you two get a room,” Lin said icily, standing up. “If you’re gonna have makeup sex or whatever, fine. Don’t have to make us watch the foreplay.”

“Oh, s-sorry!” Jenna said. She gently popped the nipple out of Max’s mouth, leaving him blinking in dull surprise. His saliva glistened on her perfect, bare skin, its coolness sending a sinful shiver down her spine. She hadn’t even noticed the precise moment when her suit had split and Max had started to drink. Grabbing her boyfriend by the hand, she dragged him toward her room, blushing furiously.

As they disappeared, Lin took to pacing again. It’s wasn’t enough that Jenna and Trish came back acting like horny stoners. Not enough that they were apparently fine being violated by horrible alien monsters. But Jenna had completely forgotten about how Max had just rolled over and let her go. She waltzed right in, like he hadn’t shrunk into a corner when they whisked her away, and just started letting him suck on her titties. There wouldn’t be any consequences for his cowardice.

The image of him from earlier, jerking his cock even as he wallowed in his own weakness, hit Lin like a hammer to her skull. Her fists clenched, pulse racing. He was going to get away with it.

Lin wanted to march in there and accuse Max of being the selfish piece of shit that he had exposed himself to be. She wanted to scream.

But what purpose would it serve? She released her fingers and forced the anger away. It would only work against the group right now. For Ben and Sophie and Trish, she would keep it together.

Lin glanced back to the table. Sophie looked mortified, and Trish still had a suggestive waggle in her eyebrows. And Ben was... Wait, is he hard?

Though trying to squirm and adjust and draw attention elsewhere, there was nowhere for him to hide it. The suits were just too tight. Apparently, somebody enjoyed the show.

“So, uh...” he said, “only one bathroom for four girls...”

The joke fell so flat, Lin thought she heard a smacking sound. Or maybe that came from Jenna’s room. Either way, she found her own door without saying another word.

Ben sprang up to head her off, but the door was already closed. ”Fuck,” he hissed under his breath.

The subsequent quiet didn’t last long. Ben nearly flinched when a pair of arms draped over his shoulders. A warm body—almost scalding—pressed against him and he heard Trish’s playful voice in his ear.

“Heh... there you go again, always bein’ such a nice guy. Try’na look out for us in this weird setup.”

Her suit must have been thin as a soap bubble. He could feel her every well-defined muscle against his back. And Lin hadn’t been kidding, either. Her breath did smell sweet.

“Poor Lin’s got her bitch head on,” Trish whispered conspiratorially, “but ya know what? I’d still totally do her. Mmm yeah, I bet she’s a screamer...”

What is going on with her? She’s always been pretty frisky, but... this is too much. It’s worse than how she always gets when she finds a new girlfriend. More like one of those ravers she used to hang out with. What did those bugs do to her? Drugs? A lobotomy?

“T-Trish,” he tried to say, “I-I...”

“So what about you, Benny-boy?” she said, cutting him off. “Did you manage to get anywhere with Sophie while we were gone? She’s so scared, the little cutie... lookit her, all shaky and blushy... Needs a big, strong someone ta hold her and tell her it’ll be okay...”

“What? Sophie? N-No. No way. I mean... we were just sitting here, worrying about you two. This isn’t the time or the place to... Not that I would... I mean, not that she’s... W-What I mean is... She wouldn’t...”

He shut his treacherous mouth, sucking in a deep lungful through is nose before deciding upon a complete sentence. “She... she seemed overwhelmed, so I’ve been trying to give her some space. To, you know, process everything.”

Trish rolled her eyes. “Gawd, boys! See, this is why I’m so glad I like girls. This stuff just goes right over your heads sometimes!“

Finally letting him go, she spun him around and poked him in the chest.

“When I taught you some tricks for eating pussy last night, it wasn’t just in case some random supermodel happened to show up at the campsite. I know what it looks like when a girl needs a hot, wet mouth splittin’ her kitten, and I am ninety-nine-point-nine percent sure that Sophie really needs to get laid!“

Ben’s eyes flitted over to Sophie, sitting alone at the table, and he brought his volume down a level. “Wait. Do... do you really think...”

If it were even possible, Trish’s voice got even huskier, and the twinkle in her eye got twinklier. “For such a smart guy, you can be pretty dense sometimes. Whatever. If you don’t give it to her, eventually someone else might. Is that what you want, Ben? You wanna watch?”

The notion lingered with her, of him helplessly looking on while she pinned down that nervous little nerd and got her off nice and hard... Fuck, wish I’d started teasing boys a lot earlier. It’s so fuckin’ fun!

Ben reeled. There was no way. None of this made sense to him. He brushed her hand away. “No. No. just because you’re super horny right now doesn’t mean everyone else is.“

Pausing, Ben glanced over at Jenna and Max’s door. “I mean, it doesn’t mean that Sophie is. Has she ever been interested in sex?“

But for some reason, he couldn’t shake the mental picture Trish had painted, of her pouncing on poor, helpless Sophie like some kind of ferocious lesbian wildcat.

“Look, I don’t know if whatever happened to you is gonna wear off, but until it does, don’t... I don’t know, bother her? She’s the most scared of all of us, and the last thing she needs is one of her friends coming onto her to make things even more weird and confusing.“

His honey-drunk friend sighed, indulgently. “Okay, okay. For you, I’ll be nice to her. I know it’s freaky for her. For us. But seriously, man... she doesn’t need my help to get bothered. She’s not, like, a nun, or some junk! She wants it as much as all of us do.“

Her eyes flicked down, for just a second. “As much as you do. Heh heh. You’ll see.“

Trish turned and sashayed off toward their newly granted bathroom, ostensibly to explore it, and maybe take a more careful shower to get the last traces of stickiness off her hair and skin. But really, she wanted to be there when hot, lovely Jenna showed up to rinse off, all freshly fucked and gorgeous. Maybe it wouldn’t happen like that, but hey, one fantasy had come true already. Time to buy a lottery ticket when I get home. Trish caught Sophie’s furtive eyes and winked.

If she weren’t before, Sophie was now definitely radiating a shade of red usually reserved for metals about to melt. The longer she pondered the unfairness of it all, the closer she got to incandescence.

Why does everyone else just get to have whatever they want? Jenna and Max are definitely going at it again, and now Trish is flirting with my... w-with Ben. Gay Trish!

She grumbled to herself.

Nobody flirts with me. No weirdo sex-aliens wanna give me a boob-job and make me a centerfold. Of course not. What if they don’t end up taking me at all? They’re probably gonna just drop me off. Sorry for the inconvenience, human girl, but you weren’t hot enough to probe...

The whiplash of bitterness turning to shame hit Sophie so hard she felt it in her chest. Was she really envious of the girls for getting drugged and raped by aliens? Or was she just feeling even more inadequate now that Jenna was hotter than ever? Whatever it was, it weighed on her.

If she didn’t do something, it was going to drive her mad. She had to talk to someone. Trish was too loopy and horny to be any help. Jenna was busy. Not Ben. Dear god, not Ben.

Sophie waited until Ben collapsed into one of the big cushions that passed for casual furniture in the living space, distracted by his own thoughts. Then she tiptoed over to Lin’s door.

“Uh... Lin?” she whispered, unsure how much sound would get through. Apparently none, as there was no reply.

Wincing, Sophie raised her knuckles to knock. They passed through empty air, as the door opened so quickly and silently, the poor girl didn’t even register it until her momentum sent her stumbling over the threshold.

“Gah!” she squeaked.

Lin, who had been lying on her bed and staring up at the ceiling, jolted upright. “Uh. Hey?”

Scurrying inside, Sophie forced her words out before they could get stuck in her throat. “Ah, hey, um, Lin. S-Say, I know th-this may not be the best time and all, b-but I could really use your help.”

“Course,” Lin shrugged. Whatever it was, Sophie’s problem was better than sitting alone and seething. “What is it?”

“Um, well, you know what you told me... about not giving a crap? It’s just—”

“Fuck,” Lin said.

Sophie blinked. “What?”

“I told you about not giving a fuck,” Lin replied. A smirk tugged at her lips.

“What’s the difference?”

“If you have to ask...” This conversation was cheering her up already. “Go on.”

“Uh... okay, I’m really trying to not do that. Give a fuck, I mean. But it’s so hard! Look at us! We’ve been abducted by aliens! And I don’t even know if I should be afraid of getting messed with like Trish and Jenna, or if it’s like they said and the aliens are going to... well, you know. Or! Or if that’s just something the aliens are making me think. Or if that’s all me, and I’m just insane for even wondering, or... or... It’s all so crazy! All of it...“

Sophie shivered, clutching herself. Her suit felt thick against her skin.

Damn, this girl is so wound up all the time, someday she’s just going to snap... Pretending to be as calm as Sophie needed her to be, Lin sat up all the way, scooching over to make space on the bed. She patted the surface next to her, and Sophie meekly took it.

“Here’s your first real lesson in not giving a fuck,” Lin said, crossing her legs. “Take a deep breath.”

As an example, Lin straightened her back, let her chest expand—stretching her suit tighter around her B-cups—and then released. “Now you do it. Gonna seem stupid at first, but keep doing it. Focus on the air, and not whatever your hyper brain wants to focus on.”

There was no way a deep breath would make anything better, Sophie decided. Could it? But she was also forced to acknowledge that she was too much of a pushover to say so. So she crossed her legs, fixed her posture, and did as she was told.

The air filling her lungs was vaguely cool, mostly dry, and completely sterile. Sophie forced her chest out, unable to stop herself from shivering at the thought of her breasts shamefully sticking out, without a thick sweater or billowy blouse to protect her. After a moment, she fought that feeling down, doing as Lin said and forcing her mind to zero in on the air.

Her back arched, her neck craned up, and she sagged back down as the air escaped her.

“And again,” Lin said

Sophie obeyed. The second time, as she mustered all her focus on the air, she didn’t think about picky aliens. She didn’t think about super-hot Jenna, or loopy, slutty Trish, or rough cave-man fantasies. Not even Ben crossed her mind.

Just air. For a blessed second, it was just air.

The second didn’t last, but it had helped. Somewhat.

After a few more, Lin paused. “Better?”

“Mmm... yeah.”

“Good. Whenever things start to pile up, I sit down like this and... center myself. Always clears away the bullshit.”

It occurred to Lin, now that they had taken a break from panicking, that she had never really seen Sophie’s true figure before now. For someone who went to such lengths to hide it, she didn’t look bad at all. Petite and slender and soft. Elegant even. Better not mention it, though. She’ll probably just feel self-conscious. One step at a time.

A comfortable quiet held for a moment.

“Hey, um Lin?” Sophie finally said. For the first time since they woke up on a spaceship, there was a glimmer of something on Sophie’s face. Something a bit like hope.

“Thanks.”

As it happened, Ben was alone in the common area when Uukati returned. The tone rang out, the door slid open, and the Researcher beckoned to him.

Please accompany me promptly, Benjamin Thompson. The Twenty Eight are a very exacting species, and they do not accept delays.

Jenna dragged Max away. Lin stormed off. Trish was in the shower. And Sophie had disappeared to her room when he hadn’t been looking. For what little good it might have done, there was nobody around to protest him being taken away.

Ben gulped, nodded, and fell in behind his captor. Their pace was brisk, giving him little time to sightsee, but plenty of time for his mind to race ahead of him. He needed clues about what he was in for.

“Hey, what’d you call them again? The ‘Twenty-Eight?’ That’s... uh, interesting... What are they like?“

Keeping her eyes forward on the path ahead, Uukati spared a thought to indulge his curiosity. Whatever name they called themselves originally has been lost. They are as ancient as they are technologically advanced. And even more rare than that. Only twenty-eight distinct individuals remain.

Despite the looming unknown, Ben couldn’t help but jog to catch up a little. Phrases like “impossibly ancient” and “technologically advanced” were like nerd catnip.

“Not gonna lie, that’s... really cool. So what, they’re immortal?”

After a fashion, Uukati replied. Their species transcended physical bodies, transferring their consciousnesses into their technology. They exist now as information inhabiting whatever computers and machinery they decide to create. Such as this vessel, for example.

Ben stopped cold, nearly stumbling over his own momentum. Holy shit. I’m about to meet some Culture Mind motherfuckers.

Uukati hadn’t paused or even slowed. Your awe is understandable. Truly. But they value punctuality very highly, and we are almost there.

It only took a few seconds to catch up; the only sport he had ever stuck with was running track. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad to get a chance to meet some big brains in a jar, but... why me? What could they possibly learn from a... a lowly Earthling like me?”

Perhaps you could ask them yourself, Uukati said, suddenly stopping at a dead-end corridor. Distracted, Ben almost ran straight into it.

The Researcher stood there for a couple moments, waiting. Ben opened his mouth to ask why, but caught his words as the wall separated into several triangular, curved plates and opened from the center like an iris. Taking that as the signal, Uukati entered, her human subject close behind.

If anything, this chamber was even more sterile and unadorned than the rest of the facility. Like every other room, its smooth walls were bathed in a diffused white light, and Ben wished there were something, anything that would break up the undifferentiated plainness of the room. No corners, no shadows, not a single speck of dust. Only the grey surface of the floor gave him any sense that he wasn’t stepping into a white void.

The disturbingly empty aesthetic might have driven him insane if, a heartbeat after they entered, a panel on the opposite wall didn’t also open. There was no room or corridor beyond it, but a space no larger than a broom closet. Two figures emerged from it to approach them.

The first thing that struck Ben was just how human they looked, at least in shape. They were female, naked and entirely artificial. Pristine plates of the same stark white material as the walls—he still couldn’t tell if it was plastic, ceramic, or some kind of weird crystal or metal—covered most of their bodies like a segmented shell. And whatever parts weren’t white and solid were the same soft, grey rubber as the as the floors and the humans’ uniforms. The darker material filled in the seams between white plates, but their lips and breasts were also comprised of it, and hints of it could be seen between their legs too.

The overall effect, at a glance, might have tricked him into thinking they were just a couple of nude, bald women in body paint. But the illusion was broken with the first step they took. Every movement was precise, like clockwork, without a single millimeter of effort wasted. He might have thought they were a seamlessly, perfectly looping animation, if they weren’t getting closer. The plates shifted, the elastics flexed, and while it was graceful in a way, it tickled something deeply unsettling in Ben’s brain. The pair of them marched across the room and into the uncanny valley.

They stopped a pace in front of him, equal to the human in height, and fixed their empty black eyes on his. He was face to face with robots. Real life androids.

Gynoids, actually, he corrected himself. Ah shit, I’m such a nerd.

“Welcome. Human.”

The voice was sourceless, feminine, and synthetic. And not at all telepathic.

“Oh wow, you speak English?” Ben glanced back and forth, unsure which one was talking to him.

“We have analysed and cataloged four thousand, eight hundred and thirty seven human languages,” the voice replied.

He looked over at Uukati hesitantly. “Uh... what does that mean for you? Do we still need a translator?”

I do not merely translate, the Researcher said. The tone of her thoughtspeech remained informative, but strayed close to condescending. Interpreters are able to give much more nuanced and abstract information that simple spoken words allow. While you are interviewed verbally, I will be providing the Twenty Eight with additional context for your responses, and helping you to follow their protocols.

“Sure, got it.” Ben said, having mostly forgotten his question already. Drinking in the sight of the gynoids was taking most of his attention; none of it went into considering whether they cared about being ogled. The polished light and dark components were curved and arranged into a complex, exotic physique, like a couple futuristic sexbots.

“So... where are the rest of them? Do they all share two bodies? Are the others still hanging out in the ship’s computers or something?“

There are only two of the Twenty Eight accompanying this expedition, Uukati clarified. But even two represents an expression of considerable interest in this project. It is almost unheard of. We were very honored to have them with us.

“Oh, uh, cool. That’s really cool.” It was hard to listen when he kept picturing the two gynoids in front of him posing on the cover of some salacious sci-fi comic book. Wonder if they come in chrome...

“Are you ready begin the analysis?” One body extended a hand. With how perfectly still they had been standing, the sudden, precise motion startled the human. He tried to read their expressions, but... there was nothing to read. And yet, he sensed a certain... expectance radiating from them. Or was it impatience? Ben felt Uukati’s handiwork there, transmitting their intent straight into his brain.

“You hesitate. Does our appearance unsettle you? These avatars were designed after extensive observation of human reproductive documentation, as well as data gathered during your assessment. Our objective was to make you comfortable. Is further modification necessary?”

“Oh, uh... no, you look... good,” Ben said, still now sure which one was speaking. He picked one at random and tried to give it a smile. Its eyes were so cold he shivered. Black. Empty. Lifeless. They reminded him of a doll. Or Ilaandu.

“Actually, maybe some eyes. Helps humans to trust you when we can see your eyes.”

The gynoid tilted its head. “Understood. Pupilary response is an important social cue. Standby.”

For the first time, the gynoid blinked. When it looked at him again, the black sclera remained, but now golden, polygonal irises lit up their centers. It blinked a couple more times, as though testing out the action, and then focused on him, pupils contracting slightly.

“The movement, too.” If they were willing to be accommodating, Ben wanted to help them get it right. “You’re kind of... stiff.”

There was a pause, before the gynoids wordlessly glanced to one another. Each one shifted its posture, loosening and relaxing joints and muscles that, intellectually, Ben knew they didn’t really have. They settled back into neutral poses, formal but not uncanny. Now Ben couldn’t deny that, even if they weren’t organic, they definitely seemed alive.

“Do you two have names?” he asked.

A symbol illuminated on each of their foreheads. Three hexagons of different sizes, the smaller inside the larger inside the largest, all sharing the top corner, like the first steps of a simple fractal. Twenty eight dots marked its lines and vertexes. The sight tickled something in Ben’s memory, about a picture he’d seen in a math textbook once. Something about hexagonal numbers... Or was it perfect numbers...

The one nearest him moved closer. One of the dots glowed brighter on her forehead, while a different dot was highlighted on her companion. “I am designated Seven. This is Sixteen.”

“Seven, huh?” Ben said, suddenly finding a wry grin. “You wouldn’t happen to be a tertiary adjunct to Unimatrix...”

Blank stares. Space crickets. “Uh, never mind.”

At some unspoken cue, both gynoids took him by the wrists. While their grip was gentle, it was also insistent.

Benjamin Thompson, Uukati said, the Twenty Eight allotted a certain amount of time for introductions, and it has already been expended. They are beginning their analysis.

“Yeah, okay okay,” Ben said as he was manhandled. Alien-handled? Robot-alien-handled? “Whatever I can do. I just... what can I do? What do you want from me?“

A faint, high-pitched hum filled the air, like a camera-flash charging up, and he sensed vibrations through his bare feet. A solid blue hexagon, about five feet across, lit up in the center of the floor.

“Our history is fragmentary. Data from pre-Singularity records are corrupted or lost. We lack knowledge of our former biological existence. Organic life has thus become a topic of significant study. We suspect humanity may share some similarities with our original forms. You will serve as a model for inference and extrapolation.”

“Okay, wait. Waitwaitwait.” Meeting some sexy robo-women and teaching them to be more friendly was all well and good, but ominous glowing circles held less appeal to Ben. He tried to slow them down, to get a second to breath and figure everything out, but he couldn’t. They were deceptively strong for how slender their frames appeared, and they dragged him along without even trying.

Uukati’s voice manifested in his mind, with all the reassurance of an oracle reciting a fate already decided. Do not be concerned. The Twenty Eight are surpassingly rational. If you cooperate, this will be a pleasant, beneficial exchange.

With a shaky breath, Ben steadied himself. Nothing he could do about it now. Even if he could overpower the robots—which was, of course, impossible—they could just zap his brain and make him obey. So the only thing he could do was embrace it. Here he was, making contact with strange life-forms, representing the whole human race. Sure, maybe he was a glorified lab rat, but this lab rat could at least go boldly.

In unison, the rubber-skinned hands released him. Ben shook his nerves out, inhaled deeply, and nodded to Seven. “Okay, sure. Fine. I got this. Right here?”

Seven returned the nod.

“One small step...”

Ben’s foot passed over the illuminated line, feeling a static tingle. As the rest of him followed, all his hairs stood on end, and he lifted his hand to inspect it. Coruscating energy played over his fingers in tiny, prickling waves, barely visible to his eyes, but easily felt by his nerves.

“Standby.”

A deep thrum reverberated in Ben’s ears. Then in his skin. Then in his bones. His stomach lurched as the laws of physics betrayed him and the ground fell away from his feet. Whether by force-fields or magnets or antigravity or some artifice he couldn’t even imagine, Ben was floating several inches up, looking down at the gynoids and Uukati.

“Whoa! Hey!” He flailed his arms and legs, instinctively searching for purchase and finding none. But he couldn’t help but let out a nervous laugh. “Holy shit, haha! It’s like I—”

“Restraining,” Seven said.

An invisible force jerked Ben’s limbs apart. It snapped him into a spread eagle and held him there, like the Vitruvian Man suspended in the center of the alien laboratory. He struggled against it, whatever it was, but his lanky arms quickly gave out and returned to the position the Twenty Eight desired.

“W-What was...” From the neck up at least, Ben still had some freedom. “W-Why?”

“Superfluous movement may interfere with scans,” said Seven, her omnipresent voice perfectly dispassionate. “To avoid delay, those movements have been eliminated. Now we can proceed. Sixteen will perform the physiological examination. Then I will conduct the interview.”

Sixteen approached him, reaching into the static field and pressing her hand into Ben’s chest. The bodysuit withdrew like oil touched by dish-soap. A warmth spread from the point to contact, lingering even after the robot pulled away and repeated the touch on his abdomen. Were her fingers wet? It was like that warming oil Trish always went on and on about when she joked about offering everyone massages. Well, mostly offering Jenna massages, and making silly excuses when anyone else tried to take her up on them.

She continued like that all over his body, touching him, kneading the weird fluid into his skin, and leaving another hole in his suit. Only when Sixteen reached his arms did he get a good look at it. The oil was thin, clear with a silvery sheen, but it seemed to absorb into his skin in seconds and leave no residue behind. Just warmth. It was gradually passing from novel territory into uncomfortable.

“What is that stuff? What are you doing to me?” Uncertainty was struggling with curiosity, and the stalemate left Ben sweating from more than just the heat rising in his body. He wanted to know, so badly, but he was afraid to to find out. His stomach was doing flips.

Granted, part of that was the antigravity.

“Sixteen is introducing tasked agents to your system. Their activity is at a scale below your threshold of perception, but you may notice peripheral effects. Waste heat. Electrical discharges. These are harmless.”

Ben wasn’t so sure. He was starting to feel pins and needles now all over his skin, and they were getting worse. He would have squirmed, if they had allowed it. “L-Like nanobots? Ah! You’re talking about n-nanobots, right? Holy shit. I’ve got nanobots in me. That’s awesome! What... what are they dooooooaaah!“

Sixteen’s cool, synthetic hand cupped Ben’s crotch, dissolving the suit there and making his entire body tense against the invisible restraints. She massaged his balls and stroked his flaccid cock with the delicacy and care of a neurosurgeon. His first instinct was to turn his head and cough. The machine-infused oil sank into his sensitive parts, spreading the burning tingle to somewhere especially distracting.

The doctor’s room awkwardness didn’t stop him from stiffening, though. It had been a while for him, and the gynoids did look kind of sexy, weird as it was to say. And Sixteen was giving his member an awful lot of attention at the moment.

“Initial scans are insufficient. High levels of genetic waste data detected. Damage at the cellular level detected. Further scanning will be hindered by these errors. Inefficient.”

With his body held up in the air, his suit reduced nearly to nothing, and his package in the firm grip of an alien gynoid, Ben had never felt quite so exposed. It was almost as if Seven’s scrutinizing gaze made the tingling even worse. If they’re interested in genetics, why didn’t they take Max, or Trish, or even Jenna? They’re the perfect genetic specimens, not me. Compared to the athletes and potential models, he was... nothing special.

“Optimizing,” Seven said.

“Huh? Whaddya mean by—”

Sensation. Pure, blinding sensation. Fireworks went off under his skin, and behind his eyes. Like his entire body had lost circulation and fallen asleep, and now his feeling was all rushing back at once. Every nerve sizzled and sputtered. Every muscle seized, twitching at random as they tried to make sense of the chaos in his body.

It wasn’t pain, not exactly. More like an itch, a deep, burning itch that permeated his flesh. Like the dull sting of a broken bone knitting itself back together. Only it wasn’t a single bone, it was every bone. And every organ. And every drop of blood. And it wasn’t happening over the span of weeks, but of seconds. Ben’s vision blurred. He couldn’t take it.

Pain he could take. His brain could understand pain, suffer it for a while, and maybe decide to pass out. But this wasn’t pain. It wasn’t even pleasure.

It was just too much.

Tears welled in his unfocused eyes. His jaw hung open. Ben tried to scream, to beg, but nothing came out but a plaintive whine.

From behind, two mechanical hands pressed into his scalp. A flash of green granted him merciful oblivion.