The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

We were headed south. Why were we going south?

“Lani, where are you taking me. You said it was important?”

[Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it...] “You’ll see. Just relax, Alex. And it is important, baby.”

“Well then why all the secrecy? And why just the two of us? I had a meeting scheduled with Param this morning, and I need to go see Mateo and Curtis about their progress with the control interface. Kara and I have another ‘session’ this afternoon, and Cassandra wanted to talk about an enzyme she’s discovered that may be able to—”

[He’s so wound up. I wish he’d relax just a little bit...] “Alex, stop,” Lani said, putting a hand on my leg and squeezing my knee. She didn’t take her eyes off the road, which was a good thing on the curves through the mountains. Amber had done a great job teaching her to drive, but...wait a minute. How was she able to tell me to stop? Her mind shouldn’t allow her to contradict me. That would be conflict, and she couldn’t do conflict, unless...uh...crap, it was so hard to think, with all of the stuff bouncing around in my brain.

Only twenty-eight days left until the aliens blew up the East Bay. That’s the warning that Kara and I had both heard when we somehow tapped into their signals. The bizarre combination of two alien-scrambled human brains, and a lot of sex had turned us into receivers, but we hadn’t been able to repeat the performance after four days and twelve different attempts. Our brains had been scanned so many times that the printouts decorated an entire wall back at Andre’s mansion.

I put my seat back, and closed my eyes, trying to organize my thoughts. How long was this little adventure of Lani’s going to take? She was an incredible girl, but sometimes I realized just how young she was—not even nineteen yet—and how much I was putting on her shoulders. She was helping the cause, a lot, but I wasn’t sure how long she could stay focused without burning out.

It was a problem that we all faced, and one of the biggest dangers to our resistance against the aliens. We only had so much time before they were done converting the Earth’s military, and took off for their home, either destroying the planet on their way out of town, or abandoning the people to pursue their normal behavior without the supervision of their alien overseers. Either way, there wasn’t a lot of hope for the human race, unless I...unless we...could find a way to stop them.

Maybe Kara and I should try doing it on a bed next time instead of inside a brain scanner, we could...

“...Alex, baby wake up.” Lani’s soft hand stroked my cheek.

I opened my eyes to see that we’d stopped moving. Out the front window, the Pacific ocean rolled up onto the sandy beach. Gulls screamed overhead, and the smell of salt and seaweed blew in through Lani’s open window. It was surprisingly warm for mid-May in the Bay Area. I looked over at Lani and had to do a double-take. There was my Island Girl, in the yellow flowered dress that she wore the day I got out of the shelter...the day that she came to my boat and I discovered what the aliens had done to the planet.

“Lani, what...?” But she was already out the door, and headed around to the trunk of the sedan. I fumbled with my seatbelt and got out to join her.

“Where are we?” I asked.

“Santa Cruz,” she said. She poked her head out from behind the trunk lid and inhaled deeply through her nose. “Mmm, doesn’t that smell good. I miss the ocean.” [I wonder how Mama and Papa and Malie are doing back home...]

She slammed the trunk, and came around the car, dragging a wheeled cooler, and carrying a large beach bag over her shoulder.

“What are we doing, Lani?”

“Spending a day at the beach. You needed to relax, Alex. All of us saw it—you’re working yourself to death. So when we saw that the weather was going to be nice at the coast today, we all agreed that it would be a great chance to get you away from aliens and science experiments for a little while.” She waved her hand at the water. “Scarlett and Amber have already cleared the beach, so we’ve got it all to ourselves.” She wheeled the cooler in front of me and dropped the handle. I was just about to voice my opposition to wasting an entire day, when she suddenly pulled down the front of her dress, flashing her brown tits at me, then stuck out her tongue and ran off down the sand toward the water.

“Don’t forget the food,” she called over her shoulder.

By the time I’d dragged the cooler to where she waited, she’d already set up a large blanket, and two self-inflating beach chairs. I dropped the cooler’s handle and reached out to grab her, but she danced out of my reach, laughing. I was right on the cusp of yelling at her, letting out my frustration at being here when I should be doing something, anything, to help in our fight against the aliens.

“Do you remember the first time you commanded me, Alex?” she said, stepping onto the blanket. “You told me to take off my dress.” She reached for the hem of her yellow dress and drew it up, lifting the fabric up her thighs, over her white cotton panties, her flat stomach, and finally, her firm tits. She threw her dress to the sand, and shook out her lustrous dark curls. “And you said that being naked around you was natural, and I should never be embarrassed by being nude in your presence.” She wiggled out of her panties, and stood in front of me, hands on hips, definitely not embarrassed.

“And do you remember what you commanded next?” she asked. She stepped up closer to me, and reached for the buttons on my shirt. “I do. I remember everything.”

All of my protests died on my lips as she gave me a wet, passionate kiss, her fingers deftly working to remove my shirt. [I love his body. Just what a man should be...] She had my belt undone, and my pants open before I knew it, and when she pulled everything down to my feet, my hard cock sprung up to greet her. [Especially this part...]

She smiled as she looked down at my crotch. “And...let’s see...your next command was...oh, yes...’Lulani, I am mane’o. Suck on on my koko.’“ She dropped to her knees in front of me, and reached out to take my cock in her hands. She pursed her lips and kissed the tip, humming happily when she heard me groan.

I stood there on the bright, sandy beach, running my hands through Lani’s silky hair, feeling the sun on my back, and the ocean breeze on my face, listening to the crash of waves and the screech of seagulls, while my Island Girl went after my koko with an enthusiasm, and a familiarity that she hadn’t possessed all those months ago. I’m not ashamed to say that the result was almost exactly the same—in less than a minute I clutched handfulls of her hair and exploded into her warm mouth, my legs actually trembling with the intensity of it all.

She lifted her big, brown eyes to watch my face as she pulled away with a wet smack of her lips. She made a show of swallowing everything, sticking out her tongue after, and then giving me a big smile. “Mmm, delicious,” she said.

I laughed, louder and more deeply than I had in months. Tension flowed out of me like it was being burned away by the sunshine. I settled into one of the beach chairs, my bare skin sticking to the plastic, while Lani stood up and went to the cooler. She bent over at the waist, waggling her round ass at me, and showing me the swollen lips and pink insides of her pussy.

“Wait until you see what I made you for lunch, baby,” she said over her shoulder.

I couldn’t take it. I jumped out of the chair, and hugged her from behind, standing her up so I could cup her tits and kiss her neck, while she rubbed her butt against my rapidly re-inflating cock. “I’m not hungry yet,” I whispered in her ear.

[Yes! Oh, I’m yours baby, always...] She spun around in my arms, and leaped up to wrap her legs around my waist. She kissed me hard as I cupped her firm cheeks to hold her up. With one arm around my neck, she reached down between us and found my dick, rubbing it up and down her wet channel.

She lifted up, and then sunk down, moaning into my mouth as she impaled her tight pussy on me. “I love you baby,” she said, as I lowered her to the blanket.

I had to face a gallery of knowing grins as I entered the kitchen of the mansion. Most of my girls were there. Scarlett, Amber, Jill, Kara, Erica, and Vivian all sat around the kitchen island, sipping at glasses of wine, or bottles of beer. When Lani came in behind me, they all clapped and cheered, while she took a dramatic bow.

I put on a mock frown. “I see there’s some adjustments I need to make around here,” I growled. Everyone laughed, and Jill handed me a glass of my favorite scotch, with two ice cubes floating in it, just how I liked it. I broke my glare and gave them all a smile. How would I ever have managed all these months without them?

“OK,” I said, “that was a nice break, thank you all.” I raised my glass to toast their efforts. “But, the relaxation is over. We’ve only got four weeks until—”

“Hold on there, Mister All-Business-All-The-Time,” Vivian said, setting down her glass. “Lani may have gotten her turn, but there are a lot of other women here that are anxious to pitch in to the war effort.” She plucked the glass out of my hand, and took my wrist, trying to drag me toward the foyer. I looked over to see Erica peeling off her shirt, and Scarlett reaching behind her to unhook her bra. Hands on my back pushed me forward, and before I knew it we were climbing the stairs, the mob of women shedding their clothes as they went.

I found myself smiling for no particular reason as I entered the room where Mateo and Curtis worked on their Sentinel project. PFC Wright crashed to attention when he saw me, and Mateo pushed himself higher in his chair. The gaggle of personnel in my entourage, including my neuroscientists, Anatoly, Cassandra, and Kara, filed in behind me and fanned out around the small room.

“Sir,” Mateo said, eyeing the people that had invaded his space, “we weren’t expecting a major meeting today, just a status update on the interface project.”

“At ease,” I said, more for Private Wright’s benefit than for any kind of formal protocol. “I have a new question for you, based on something that came up last night.” Mateo smiled, and I wondered what he knew about the “attitude adjustment” that my girls had given me.

“I’m interested in why there’s such a difference in the treatment of men and women by the aliens. Why are the men converted into Sentinels, heavily trained, and controlled through pain signals, while the women are slapped inside an Arbiter’s helmet and used up like tissues, while being controlled through pleasure signals. Why the differences in methods? It can’t all be biological.”

The two former Sentinels exchanged a look. “Sir,” Mateo said, “I’ve never really considered it before, but now that you mention it, there are a few things that came up, while we were working alongside the Arbiters.” He looked at Kara, who had been his partner for almost forty days. “If something wasn’t going right, when we were out in the field, Albert was a lot quicker to punish my Arbiter than me. It’s like he considered everything to be her fault, even though it wasn’t really anyone’s.”

“Sir,” Curtis said, his reflective faceplate turning toward us. “There was something from our simulations that might concern this.” I nodded for him to continue. “When we were training to defend the Blues’ home planet, there were images of their cities, and their...they weren’t houses, but more like dormitories. And when they would simulate the civilians that we were supposed to defend, there was another type of alien there, that looked kind of like a...maybe a spider, or like a beach ball with skinny arms and legs, and no heads. But they had a ring of those triangle things around the top, like the aliens do. The regular aliens and the smaller ones were all mixed together, but the Blues weren’t very nice to the others. They pushed them around a lot, but...”

Mateo was nodding along with Curtis’s tale, like he was remembering at the same time.

“But, what, Private?” I asked.

“Well, sir, it was almost like you’d see in a group when someone had to bring their kid brother along, or when you have a friend who isn’t too bright. We had one of those in boot, a guy named Jimmy, and we teased him, and pushed him around and all, but he was still one of us, so we wouldn’t really hurt him, and we would absolutely have his back if anyone else picked on him. It’s difficult to describe, sir, but maybe—”

“I think those are their women, sir,” Mateo said. “Or at least the other sex in their species. I’m starting to remember what Private Wright was talking about, and there was a name that they used...” He made a strange croaking sound, and then went into a fit of coughing from trying to wrap his vocal chords around the noise.

Kara gasped when she heard it, and stepped closer to Mateo’s chair. Our connection was still strong, even though we’d managed to get our sexual drives under control, and I caught a flicker of what she was thinking.

“Albert called you that name?” I asked.

She turned to me, wide-eyed, and nodded. “I thought it was a special name for me personally, because he used it all the time, but the way they throw away Arbiters, I’m not sure he even saw me as an individual.”

“No,” I said. “I have a feeling that these aliens are world class misogynists, that their reproductive partners—their ‘women’—are smaller and weaker and dumber than they are, but they are necessary for the continuation of the species. So they pick on them, and call them a name that probably means something like ‘dumb bitch,’ but they say it with affection.”

Everyone around me was nodding, like this was some major revelation, some window into the aliens’ psyche, but I couldn’t think of any advantage it could give us tactically. So all of the aliens we’d seen so far where males... “So what?” I asked the room. Everyone’s looks changed from understanding to bewilderment.

“So they only value the stronger sex,” Anatoly said. He’d grown his beard back, but someone with command had made him keep it neatly trimmed. He seemed almost normal. “They are devoting their time and research to converting males into soldiers. Their research into women is only taken as far as necessary to control the population, and all of the women will eventually be abandoned when they leave Earth.”

“Do you think that their control systems for women are not as secure as they are for the men?” I asked. “Can we find a flaw in the Arbiters’ programming that will let us into their systems? Some way to breach the main controls?”

“I do not think so,” the Russian said. “We still have the problem of interfacing with their native systems. We don’t have the equivalent of the torsos that they use. Without more details about their physiology, we can’t begin to track their logic systems.”

“Why not?” I said.

Cassandra stepped forward. “How do you interface with your computer systems, Alex?”

“Through a terminal,” I said.

“So you look at a screen, and you type or talk to the computer?”

I nodded.

“What would you do if you didn’t have eyes to see the screen, or vocal cords to speak instructions? If your control over your systems was through a series of electromagnetic pulses that emitted from specialized nodules that grew from the upper part of your anatomy? Would you know how to use a terminal then?”

I saw where she was going. “All right,” I said. “Since we can’t hook up a bunch of alien torsos to do the same thing that they’re doing, how do we crack this barrier? And my initial question still stands—are we better off going through the female side, rather than the male?” I felt like I’d just asked a thousand more questions without answering the one I had brought into the room. Discussion buzzed around me, as my minions went to work on dividing the problem among themselves. All I could think of was that there was only twenty-seven days to go.

Param showed me the footage from the cameras on Orange Building. A metallic egg had appeared above the Rollins-Chiu campus this morning, and before anyone could get out of the building, it unleashed its EM pulse. It was the only ship in the sky, and our sensors around the campus captured its limited effectiveness. Still, if anyone inside Orange Building had been one of ours, they would have been caught in the blast. Within seconds, the ship was gone.

An hour later, another one appeared, this time over the Oakland house where Anatoly had first tried to track the alien minions using his nanite dust. We didn’t have any sensors in the area, just the feeds from several security cameras, but it seemed that Albert was taking random shots at places where he suspected the rebel humans were hiding.

I increased the precaution that my scattered troops took to avoid detection, and made sure that every critical member of my staff had one of the Faraday helmets on their person at all times. Other than that, there was nothing I could do. We were like fugitives hiding inside a house, where the local sheriff took pot shots at the walls every hour. If we were careful, we could probably avoid getting hit, but there was always that chance of a stray bullet getting through.

I still couldn’t decide what to do about Albert. I knew that I could take him out if I had to—I’d proved it before, and we were only getting better with practice. I had a fully functioning Sentinel on my side now, plus the ability to scramble the signals to whatever new minions he’d procured. But the consequences of a direct attack were too great to consider.

Now that I knew there was a command structure above and beyond each local alien, I couldn’t risk the reprisals. In less than four weeks, we either had to disappear completely from the aliens’ radar, and make them believe we had been destroyed, or we had to do something so epic that they would think twice about murdering almost a million people.

Seven of the best doctors in the world surrounded the operating table in the Stanford Neuroscience Center. I was in the back, fully scrubbed and sterilized, standing on a stool to watch over their shoulders. On the table, the blue fishbowl of an Arbiter’s helmet, wrapped in silver signal-canceling mesh, was locked in place with several clamps. The woman inside the helmet—the Arbiter that we had captured in Alameda—was supported in an awkward pose that bent her neck back, exposing the soft skin under her chin.

Dr. Saleet Rassi was at the controls of the micro-surgical machine that we’d brought in from the UCSF Medical Center. His partner, Dr. Tereza Araújo, fed the small tubes between the iris mechanism, and the soft skin of the woman’s throat, coated with a medical lubricant. None of the regular medical devices available could penetrate the helmet, and give us an image of what was happening inside the head of “Alice”—the name that Lani had given the unidentified woman. Now, Dr. Rassi was maneuvering a tiny fluoroscope into position, over the cheek, and the smooth temple of the woman, to the place where the thick tube penetrated her forehead.

“Shooting,” he said, turning on the imaging device.

Alice immediately went into convulsions, arching up from the table. Doctors and nurses grabbed at her flailing limbs and tried to hold her down.

“Shutting down,” Dr. Rassi said. Alice flopped back down on the table like he’d shut her off as well.

“I think the helmet had a reaction to the radiation released by the scope,” I said to the assembled doctors. Even though they were the best minds in their field, they were still Converted, and didn’t know how to react to unusual situations. “Try thermal or sonic imaging, but be ready to shut down immediately if she reacts.”

Meanwhile, we had a decent picture from the couple seconds that the scope had been turned on. The tube going into the young woman’s forehead split almost immediately into two sections. One part looked like a double-walled hose, hollow and fairly wide. It snaked down the inside surface of her skull, to connect to her sinus cavity.

“Dr. Li,” I said, “could that hose provide enough air and water to sustain her?”

My trusted doctor looked at the picture. “I would say so, Alex.”

So somehow the exterior of the helmet absorbed air and water to keep these women alive. It must be more porous than I originally thought—some kind of osmotic membrane, maybe? That detail would have to wait until later. Right now, I was more concerned with the other part of the connecting tube, the part that split into hundreds of tiny wires, snaking their way into dozens of areas of the woman’s brain.

Dr. Araújo threaded a thermal camera into the helmet, and even though the resolution wasn’t nearly as good as a large stationary unit, it was good enough to show the areas of activity in Alice’s brain. She had been sedated for almost three weeks now, and yet her brain was still glowing hot in those places where the wires burrowed into it.

I got off my stool and gathered the group around the displays. “Amber,” I called up to the pickups around the operating theater, “can you find footage of the torsos in the boxes that we found with each alien? Specifically the females, and focusing on their brains.”

“Coming up,” Amber’s voice came from a speaker in the corner. She was in a room next door, making sure everything got recorded, and providing support for requests like this. In a couple seconds, we were looking at still frames of an exposed brain with wires poking out of it. Impossible to tell if it was a woman or a man, but of course Amber wouldn’t make a mistake like that.

“Dr. Goldberg, Dr. Montoya,” I said, “you’ve analyzed the way that the male and female torsos were wired, and the parts of the brains that were most likely controlled by the wires. Do you see any similarities between the female torso, and the Arbiter?”

Both neuroscientists examined the display. “I’d say they’re nearly identical,” Dr. Goldberg said. “The same areas that we’ve already identified; speech, hearing, sight, language processing, and both physiological and psychological pleasure centers.”

“All right,” I said. “Dr. Rassi, can you isolate and sever individual wires in that bundle?” The microsurgeon stared at the pictures for a moment, and then nodded. “Good, let’s start with something innocuous. Dr. Goldberg, show Dr. Rassi the group of wires that leads to the physiological pleasure centers.” If we screwed up and permanently damaged something, I was sure the woman would want to keep her sight and hearing over her ability to have an orgasm.

I climbed back on my stool and watched the proceedings. Two more probes were fed under the helmet, a camera and a cutting tool. They wended their way up to the place where the helmet connected to Alice’s head, and the cutter went to work, opening a small hole next to the larger one, and moving through skin and bone until the cluster of filaments filled the vid. It took the assembled minds several minutes to agree on which wire to cut, but eventually, the micro-tool was in position, and Dr. Rassi triggered the laser.

“She’s coding,” Dr. Li said, as alarms sounded from the equipment around the operating table.

Surgical nurses and trauma doctors stepped in as Alice’s heart rate climbed, and her blood pressure went through the roof. Her body trembled uncontrollably, and once again she had to be held down. The thermal image showed an angry red line tracing the path of the severed wire. On the camera, I saw the cut end dissolve into an orange goo that looked a lot like the supporting gel in the torso boxes.

While the medical team worked on Alice, I pulled the neurologists aside.

“The helmet must have a built in failsafe,” I said. “I have another idea—I didn’t want to try this, but I think it’s our only option at this point. These helmets aren’t meant to be disposable or customized to the wearer. When an Arbiter dies, they’re taken off and reused on the next victim. That means that it must have a programmed way to release itself. There are two ways I can think of, either it’s up to the alien to trigger the release, or it happens automatically when the host dies.”

I looked around at the group. “I want you to come up with the safest, most effective way to ‘kill’ your patient. Something that will reduce her brain activity to almost zero, and stop her heart, but it has to be something that we can revive her from if the helmet lets go.” They looked at me curiously, but they had been given a command. They huddled around one of the monitors and started talking.

Twenty minutes later, our stabilized patient was turned on her side, and the helmet was clamped down again, so an electrode could be inserted in her brainstem. Dr. Li stood by Alice’s IV tube with a syringe in his hand. Dr. Rassi watched the thermal monitor, and the surgical microcamera for any action by the helmet.

“Be ready to revive her at my signal,” I said to the group. “Dr. Li, go ahead.”

He injected the contents of the syringe into her IV, and stood back. Thirty seconds passed before the first alarm went off. Her heart rate dropped, and her breathing slowed. Dr. Montoya applied a charge to the probe, interrupting the neurological signals from Alice’s body to her brain. Her arms and legs had been strapped down, but she tensed in her restraints, and then went slack.

“I have movement in the device, Alex,” Dr. Rassi said. I stepped up to watch over his shoulder. The hot spots in her brain were cooling down, and as I watched the camera, the air and water tube started to retract into the conduit from the helmet. Several seconds later, the wires contracted, visibly moving on the vid. One wire pulled completely free of her brain, and I saw that the wicked-looking prongs at the end were all folded up to aid in the removal. More and more wires let loose.

“Ninety seconds,” Dr. Li said.

I had given my helmet removal device to one of the nurses, with instructions on how to use it if necessary.

“No measurable brain activity,” Dr. Montoya reported.

The area around the tube had filled with blood, making it impossible to see on the camera how many wires were still inside her brain. I was about to signal the nurse to start prying the helmet off, when the iris suddenly opened on it’s own.

“Get that off her, now!” I shouted. One of the doctors grabbed the fishbowl in both hands while another spun the connectors on the clamps. In seconds, they had drawn it off from Alice’s head. Her shoulder-length brown hair spilled out, and then her blotchy, red face was revealed. The doctor carried the helmet away, while the rest of the team went into motion.

“...get her on her back...”

“...adrenaline’s in...”

“...starting compressions...”

“...let’s get her intubated...”

Orders flew around the room as I stood back and watched. I jumped as one of the monitors beeped, and I saw a wonderful, telltale line tracing Alice’s restarted heartbeat.

Dr. Goldberg came over to me. “One-hundred forty-eight seconds down. That’s significant, but it shouldn’t result in any permanent damage.”

“OK,” I said. “Discuss what we’ll need to do to get that number lower for next time. I want to wait a week or so to see what effects this had on Alice, but I want the Fresno Arbiter prepped for the procedure when we’re ready.”

I felt Kara enter the room, even though I was facing away from the door.

“How did it go, Alex?”

“Good, I think.” I turned away from the terminal, and showed her the helmet lying on the table. “I’m sure Amber told you that we had to kill her to do it, but everyone thinks she’ll be fine. I’d like you to be there when she wakes up; I’m sure she’ll have a lot of questions.”

“I have one right now,” she said. “It’s been almost a year since the aliens landed, and you said that this girl’s only been in the helmet for a short time. So before she was picked for Arbiter duty, she was converted, right?”

“I assume so. I don’t think the aliens have a secret cache of unconverted women that they save to turn into Arbiters.”

“Exactly. I know I was caught by the aliens’ first pulse. I lived with Sarai for a while, going about my normal behavior as one of the zombies, until the day that Mateo walked into the coffee shop and slapped that thing on my head.”

“So you’re saying that the helmet reversed your conditioning? Because when we scanned you later, you showed no signs of the conversion changes. Your thalamus appeared normal, and your amygdala wasn’t affected. You didn’t have the block against conflict that seems to be a permanent effect of conversion.”

Kara shrugged, and the part of my brain that was linked electromagnetically to hers noticed the subtle shift of her firm breasts under her top. My cock started to respond, and the part of her brain that was linked to mine noticed the bulge forming in my pants.

We both paused to take a deep breath. It was difficult to be around her without letting sex get in the way, but we had managed for a couple days now.

“We’ll have to see what this new girl’s brain looks like,” she said. “It might be a roundabout way of unconverting...deconverting...whatever you want to call it...getting people back to normal.”

“Getting women back to normal,” I said. “The helmet was designed for the female brain.”

“Is there that much of a difference?”

“Trust me, yes.” I’d been forced to learn a lot about brains and their structures in recent months. “More than you would think. But I also think that the aliens have focused a lot on gender differences, since they’re so pronounced in their own species. I’m pretty sure anything involved with their tech is going to be gender specific. Why do you think the Arbiters are controlled with pleasure, and the Sentinels with pain?”

She shrugged again, on purpose this time, just to get a rise out of me.

“And you may be right about using the helmet to get women back to normal, but don’t forget, we have to quite literally kill them to get the helmet off.”

She frowned at that. “So, did I die?” she asked. “Back when Mateo took the helmet off me, do you think I died?”

I saw her lip trembling, and opened my arms to her. She stepped into my embrace, and pulled my head against her breasts. “I don’t think you died,” I said. “You were close, and I think Albert released the helmet so that he could find a new victim, rather than waiting for you to be completely gone. When I found you, you were barely breathing, but still alive.”

She was sobbing in my arms, flashing back to that memory, and I held her tight. When her trembling died down, she stepped back, pulling me up out of my chair. She wrapped her arms around my neck, and stood on her toes to give me a kiss. “I’m so glad it was you that found me, Alex.” She let go of my neck, and attacked my belt buckle. “Let me show you how glad I am,” she said, rubbing her hand over my rapidly inflating cock.

Her name was Elizabeth Raleigh, and she was a thirty-three year old attorney from San Francisco. She and her husband and two children lived in a restored Victorian in the Mission District. And she was a spoiled bitch.

From the time she’d woken up, she’d complained about everything; the doctors, the nurses, the food, the hole in her forehead, even the scratchy linens. Kara had tried to calm her down, but the only thing she talked about was getting out of bed, finding her family, and getting out of the city. She couldn’t understand why we were still here, trying to fight against aliens of all things. Didn’t we know it was useless? They had spaceships for God’s sake!

When I tried to suggest that she rest, and we would look for her family, she nearly bit my head off. Who had put me in charge? I didn’t have any right to keep her there, and she would make sure that I was arrested for kidnapping if I forced her to stay.

I tried to explain that there was no law, and no law enforcement, any more, but whatever I said went in one ear and out the other. She screamed for her clothes, and I told her that they’d been destroyed.

I sent all of the girls into her room at one point or another, trying to make a connection with her, but nothing seemed to work. Eventually I posted Mike outside her door, and made sure she knew that he would do violent things to her if she tried to leave. Then I went to find her family.

She and her husband were filthy rich, that was apparent the moment we pulled onto her block. Her house was immaculately cared for, so even now, some gardener’s normal behavior was still in effect. Vivian and I went inside the house, while Atu stayed with the van.

The little boy and girl, four year old David, and seven year old Annabeth, were in their bedrooms playing on game pads. In a room behind the kitchen, Dwight Raleigh, pudgy and balding, was huffing and puffing as he fucked a young asian woman in a maid’s outfit. It was fascinating to see what passed for normal behavior in this tax bracket.

I knew the maid would be a problem if I brought her back to Elizabeth, but I couldn’t leave her there by herself. There was no telling how the breakdowns in normal behavior would eventually affect her.

“She’s cute,” Vivian said. “Maybe you should add her to your harem.”

I opened my mouth to protest that I didn’t have a harem, but her laughter cut me off.

The maid’s name was Tsu Meihui, and she certainly was cute. On the way back to Palo Alto, I sat and asked her questions, while Vivian talked with the children. No one seemed to care what Dwight did.

I left Mei in Amber’s care, as I brought Elizabeth’s family into her room.

“Annie! Davy! Oh, my god, come here!” She swung her legs off the bed and tried to stand, but her knees weren’t very steady. I brought her a chair, and she sat while each of her children obediently stepped up to receive their hug.

“Dwight, for Christ’s sake, get in here,” she said, waving him forward. “Did you guys miss me while I was gone?”

“We called the Arbiter when our normal behavior was disrupted by your absence, and we were given new commands. We were told to ignore any behavior that involved interacting with you,” Dwight said. I cringed inwardly, realizing that one of Elizabeth’s first acts as a new Arbiter had been to tell her family to forget about her. The look in her eyes told me that she was remembering exactly what she had done that day, just like Kara had remembered being forced to deal with her girlfriend’s dead body. For the first time since she’d woken up, I felt some sympathy toward this woman, and the moment I felt my dislike dissipating, her eyes snapped up and locked on mine.

I should have suspected, after what had happened with Kara, that being around a former Arbiter would trigger some connection between our alien-tweaked brains. Maybe my aversion to her attitude had interfered with the bond at first, but now, seeing her at least act human around her children, I was drawn toward her in a similar way as I had been to Kara. It wasn’t as strong, since Kara and I had been through a lot together before my episode with the helmet, but it was definitely there.

She still had her arms around her four year old son, but all of her attention was on me. “What did you do?” she asked. “Why am I feeling like this?” She set Davy aside and got up from the chair. None of her converted family even turned around when she came up to me and took my hands. She looked lost as she gazed up at my face. “Why do I want to kiss you more than anything right now?”

I didn’t know how to answer her. Partly because I was feeling some of the same attraction. She was a beautiful woman, once the haughty facade had come down, but the situation was getting too complicated, too quickly. I pulled my hands away from hers, but she grabbed at my arm.

“Wait,” she said, but I was already heading for the door.

I sent Kara and Vivian into her room, hoping that they could explain things better than I could. I wanted to see if the two ex-Arbiters would have any connection between them, now that Elizabeth had been “awakened,” or if it was just with me. But mostly, I just wanted to get out of there. I picked up Amber and Mei down the hall, and headed back to the mansion in the hills.

I had no idea why I agreed to free Mei, especially after Vivian’s crack about building a harem. But all of the other girls liked her, and they took a vote. That wasn’t really what tipped my decision—I knew all of the freed girls thought that belonging to me was the best thing in the world, and they wanted every woman to share in their pleasure—but when Kara, Vivian, and Cassie all agreed as well, I started to actually consider the idea.

She was a beauty, slim and petite, with long straight hair down to her ass. She had come over from China to study pharmacology, but had fallen in love with an American boy, and lost interest in school. When her scholarship ran out, and he’d spent all of her money, the guy had left, forcing her to find a job as a maid. She had turned down Dwight Raleigh’s advances for more than two years, until immigration caught up with her, and he blackmailed her into sleeping with him in exchange for sponsorship toward her U.S. citizenship.

In spite of it all, her normal behavior included a sunny attitude and a constant smile. I wrestled with the morality of it for a little while, but the past year had changed a lot of my old perspectives, and I found that it was easier than ever to just give in and go for it. It was actually a little exciting, wondering what she’d be like after the change.

She’d been in a coma for almost two days, but when she came out of it, she had been very affectionate and sweetly naive during our “getting to know you” romp. She had very little experience with sex, having had only one brief relationship in China, her time with her idiot American boyfriend, and then Dwight. I felt embarrassed but strangely proud, when she asked me for permission to get “training” from the other girls in things that I liked.

I had to find a place to fit her into the rebellion, now that she was free, so I put her with Dr. Li and the neuroscientists as they worked on their various projects. Her training in pharmacology hadn’t gone so far that she could contribute on her own, but she was interested in medicine, so I thought it would be a good place for her to expand her knowledge. She refused to stay late at work though, insisting that she had to get home at a decent hour to get some quality time with me.

The other women had stayed away, giving me some one-on-one space with Mei. Once she had relaxed around me, I found out that one of her favorite things to do was simply rub her body on mine, like she wanted to see how every bit of her anatomy fit with every part of me. It was very sensual rather than passionate, and for the last several nights I’d laid there for over an hour while she rubbed, and stroked, and caressed. Right now, she was straddling my right leg, rubbing her bare pussy on the top of my foot, and her breasts over my knee, while she kissed the top of my thigh, and stroked my cock with her small hand.

“Mmm, bǎobèi,” she said. “I’m so happy that you did this thing to me. That you got me away from Mr. Raleigh.”

I didn’t know why she suddenly wanted to talk about the Raleighs. “Elizabeth has decided that she doesn’t want to stay with us,” I told her. “She’s getting ready to take her family into the mountains, away from any cities, so you won’t have to deal with them any more.”

“That’s too bad. Mrs. Raleigh is a very smart lady. Very cold, but very smart. She could help, I’m sure.”

“She might be able to, but she doesn’t want to stay, and she’s not under anyone’s control. I can’t force her to do something that she doesn’t want to.”

She moved up and kissed around my hips, keeping her hand on me, but teasing me by keeping her lips away. She’d had me on the edge for a while now, and taking a little break for a conversation was almost a relief. “So you can’t make her go to sleep, and wake up in love with you?” she said.

“Nope. That’s only for girls like you,” I said, stroking her silky hair. “Mrs. Raleigh doesn’t need to be in love with me to get away from the aliens’ control. Her time as an Arbiter did that for her.”

“Well, I hope her experience made her a nicer person, at least for her children. I don’t think she ever loved Mr. Raleigh, though, so that probably won’t change.”

I chuckled at her interest in the gossip from her old job. “What did Mr. Raleigh do?” I asked.

“Oh, he owns many vid stations, and satradio stations,” she said. “He is worth a lot of money.”

I forgot about my need to cum as her words sank in. Almost since the beginning, I’d wondered about taking control of the broadcast media. I knew that the aliens were putting their control signals into mainstream outlets, but I had no idea of the exact mechanism. I also didn’t know what I would do if I actually gained control of the airwaves.

My team knew how to modify the signals to send the commands I wanted, but the big question was, what do I say to the masses? I couldn’t stage an uprising, because the prohibition against violence was created mostly by the EM pulse, not the broadcasts. I could get them to organize some sort of non-violent protest, but as I’d seen, the aliens were more likely than not to kill everyone involved.

If we ever got rid of the aliens, then I could think of a million ways to use it, especially to wean people off the normal behavior command, but that wasn’t even on the horizon yet. In the present, Mei’s revelation had opened up a whole new potential course of action that I needed to explore, especially now with only twenty days until the threatened attack on the East Bay. I would have to catch Elizabeth before she left and have a sit-down with her husband.

My mind tried to shift into problem-solving mode, but my new “harem girl” wasn’t going to let me off that easily. The slim Chinese woman slithered up my body, until she was straddling my hips. She reached back to grab my straining shaft, and lined it up with her tight entrance, then sat back with a sigh. I gritted my teeth, trying not to give in and cum in the first ten seconds, but when she flipped her long hair back and started bouncing on my cock, I knew it was a losing battle.

I was getting ready to head out on the hour-long trek to Lawrence Livermore Labs, to meet up with Anatoly, Cassandra, and her former teacher Dr. Adkins, when Kara knocked on the doorframe and walked in.

I could sense her excitement, as she sat on the edge of the bed, watching me put my shirt on. It was a different type of excitement though, only partially tinged with lust.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“Well, you know that Elizabeth had planned on leaving today, right?”

I nodded. “Yeah. It’s too bad, really. Even though she’s a lawyer, in a time when laws don’t really matter, I think she could have been useful.”

“Do you?” Kara said. “You didn’t want to just get rid of her because of her attitude?”

“Not at all. You forget that I worked with Anatoly, in all his unconverted glory, for over two years. I can forgive personalities if it gets the job done.”

“But you weren’t really pushing to keep her here, either,” she said. Something was up—that wasn’t just a rhetorical question.

“No. She made it pretty clear how she felt on the day I brought her family back. We had a flash of a connection, something like what we have between us, but I’m not going to hold her here against her will just because of that.” I smiled at her. “I don’t happen to have a dungeon handy that I can lock her in.”

“Hmmm. Well, I wanted to tell you that things might change.”

“Really? Has she told you something?”

“Oh, lots. We’ve been talking quite a bit since that day. Didn’t you notice us together when you were getting the helmet off Megan?”

“Oh, no. Not really. That was a busy day.”

“Yeah, but right after it was over, you left—off to one of your other projects. Elizabeth and I hung out in Megan’s room, and we were there when she woke up.”

“You were?” I said. “From what I understand, she was pretty incoherent when she first came around.” The procedure to get the helmet off from our Fresno Arbiter had gone smoother than our experience with Elizabeth. We had “killed” her, and gotten the helmet to release in a minute and fifty seconds. Everything had looked good physically, but she had been inside the helmet much longer than Elizabeth. She was disoriented, and frightened of everything, when I’d visited her the next day.

We’d found out that she was a twenty-six year old named Megan Harrison. She had dropped out of community college just before the aliens landed, and had been living with her parents and working in a clothing store at the local mall, under her normal behavior, when PFC Wright had put the helmet on her. She seemed nice, but boring—a typical GenAught girl—and in my rush to move on to other projects, I’d dismissed her as only a marginal help to the cause.

“Well she got better. Quickly, it turns out, once the two of us were around. There is a connection there, between us former Arbiters, and we seem to get stronger the more of us there are together.”

That was interesting. “What kind of connection?” I asked.

“It’s not like telepathy or anything, but it’s a real bond, like we all start thinking of the same things at the same time,” she said. “And the things that we think of...it’s kind of like we sat around for an hour and discussed some topic, and then carefully worded the perfect response from a blend of all of our opinions. But it happens automatically, without even really considering it.”

“So do you notice it while it’s happening, or only after you analyze it later?”

“No, we all know what’s going on. It’s weird, to be part of some group mind, but at the same time, it feels really powerful, like we can do three times what we could do as individuals, but all perfectly focused toward one goal.”

“Hmm,” I mumbled, already trying to fit this new wrinkle in human brain modification into the plan. “Well, do you think we need to get more Arbiters? Add more women to your group? At least start with someone to replace Elizabeth.”

“Well, that’s one of the reasons I wanted to talk to you,” she said. She got up off the bed, and went to the door. Elizabeth came in, pushing Megan in her wheelchair. I was surprised when the overbearing lawyer gave me a shy smile, and then lowered her eyes to the floor. The younger blonde woman stared at me clinically, sizing me up for the first time.

“So, Elizabeth,” I said, “have you decided to stay with us?”

“I...uh...yes, I guess I have. I started—”

“—seeing the situation from a different perspective,” Megan said. She looked over her shoulder at the older woman and gave her a smile. “Me too, by the way. I’m totally in. We need to get rid of these aliens before—”

“—they take all the soldiers away, and leave us to die,” Kara finished for her. The three women looked at each other, and they were all smiling.

“That was...different,” I said. “So what do we do from here?”

“That’s the reason we came to see you in your room,” Kara said. “We’ve—”

“—figured out that being in contact with each other helps the connection,” Megan said. “And the more contact—”

“—the stronger our thoughts get,” Elizabeth said. “And, uh, the best contact we’ve found is—”

“—skin on skin,” Kara finished. She was grinning at me as she unzipped her skirt and let it fall to the ground.

I picked up my satphone as I watched the three women strip. Megan wasn’t confined to the wheelchair, but she moved quickly to sit on the bed, still weak from her ordeal, and her weeks of starvation. “Scarlett,” I said into the phone, as my former assistant picked up. “Call Cassie, please, and tell her we’re going to delay the meeting today.” I saw Kara stripping off her top. “Actually, let’s reschedule for tomorrow.” I hung up, and stood watching as the three former Arbiters got naked.

Elizabeth was the tallest, and even after two kids, her body was in great shape. I probably would have found some surgery scars if I’d been looking, but I chose not to, instead focusing on the curved loveliness of her hips and ass, and the firm jut of her, probably enhanced, round breasts. She carried herself with confidence, but wouldn’t lift her face to look at me.

Megan was still skin and bones, and her tits sagged almost flat against her chest, but she had a beautiful smile, with high cheekbones that kept her face from looking sunken. Her eyes were large and round, and an unusual sea-green in color. She wasn’t a natural blonde, as about two centimeters of her normal brown color had grown out during her time under the Arbiter’s helmet.

Kara was watching me watching the other two, and I caught her glancing down at my pants. “Well?” she said, and I reached for the buttons on my shirt.

The three women crawled onto the bed, the two healthier ones flanking Megan. While my normal response at seeing three nude girls hugging each other would be a rush of lust and a raging hardon, for some reason, this particular tableau created something new. They were so perfectly a group, fit so well together, that my desire wasn’t to stick my dick into any particular one of them, it was to join in with their wholeness, to almost merge with them in a manner that was beyond sex.

Not that regular lust was banished from the equation. Elizabeth and Megan stared appraisingly at my standing cock, while Kara caressed Megan’s tight belly, and pinched her own brown nipple.

“I see what you meant, Kara,” Elizabeth said, as I moved to the side of the bed. She held out her arms as I crawled onto the mattress, and pulled me close to give me a very passionate kiss. “I’m sorry,” she said, as she let me go. The change in her was night and day from the last time I’d dealt with her. This triple mind-meld thing must have had a profound affect.

Megan was next, taking my arm, and pulling me over Elizabeth so I ended up between them. The contact with both of them made my skin tingle, and when she kissed me, what I can only describe as a warm spot formed just behind my eyes. I could feel Elizabeth’s love for her children, and her disdain for her cheating husband, while Megan was brimming with fear for the safety of her parents, and hope at being a part of something positive for the first time in her life.

“You feel it don’t you?” Kara said. She climbed over Megan to lie on top of me, and as the four of us connected, flesh to flesh, the place behind my eyes exploded into white heat. I felt every pore of their skin, every beat of their heart, and every thought in their brain. It was overwhelming, and I’m sure I screamed. I know that each of the women did, because I heard it, and analyzed the harmony of their voices, and deciphered each note into a spiraling display of their emotions flickering past my eyes.

I panicked at the intensity of it all, but they clenched me tight in their arms and whispered in my brain that it was all right. They were scared too—the addition of my male energy had created a strange, new matrix of thoughts and emotions. There was anger, and violence, and masculine power in the mix now. They had carefully arranged their internal power into a tower of strength, because that’s where feminine power resides, inside. And here I came, like the proverbial bull, wielding the external club of my cock, threatening to smash it all down. I tried to pull away, so I wouldn’t destroy the beautiful thing they had built, but they took me in, surrounded me, enfolded me with their caring and nurturing energy, and my tension ebbed. The jagged edges of my thoughts smoothed into gentle ripples, and I sat close to their trinity, sharing their space, but not threatening to dominate their power.

I think I would have been content to die like this; it was the absolute definition of bliss. I couldn’t feel the passage of time, even though I could feel our bodies moving together. I was pretty sure that Kara had taken my cock inside her, but it could just as well have been any of the three. They wrapped around me, warm and comforting.

“There,” a voice said. Or a trio of voices said, I couldn’t tell. But my attention was pulled away from the comfort of our shared minds, and out to the void that surrounded us.

There was something floating out there. A light? A stream of water? A white ribbon? It flickered in and out of my senses, but I was attracted to it. I stretched out toward it, tugging at the anchor of my trinity. They tried to pull me back to safety, but I resisted, flexing my maleness, my confidence, my selfishness. I needed to move forward, to thrust, to stab into the thing in front of me. I was getting thin, to the point that I thought I might snap, but I stretched like a human rubber band until my fingertips could reach out and brush the light.

Like I’d touched a lighting bolt, fire raced through my body, and my brain exploded. I was in an immersive vid chamber, feeling and seeing and hearing, all at triple speed.

A room, filled with sulfurous air. The pulses of the control module, and the whir of the tank pumps vibrate through the floor. The regional warden for the Bay Area sits in his habitat, the communications transceiver held close to his signaling nodes. Information comes in from his minions, their strange sensing organs transmitting to his living interface, the humans’ complex system of inputs translating into the electromagnetic signals that civilized beings use to communicate. The latest pulse of the drone ship over the city of Benicia has failed to trap any of the rogue beasts that have plagued him for so long. In seventeen rotations, the commanders floating above the planet will send a reaction device to his base, destroying the rebellious beasts along with him.

He expected his assignment as a warden to be uneventful, at least after the initial disruption caused by the enslavement of so many stupid creatures. But these violent beings had come to his base, and threatened him with physical harm. They had taken away two of his fighters, and two of his disposable scouts. He was considered a failure among the ranks of his brothers, and would receive a reduced award of breeding females when he returned. If only these violent creatures weren’t so unpredictable; it’s hard to come up with countermeasures for attacks that have never been contemplated before. He will send the next ship to the city dubbed Palo Alto, at the place that they had once used for healing their injuries...

[No!] I fed my anger through the connection, and felt the alien jerk in surprise.

[Who dares? Ah...the human called Alex. You will be found and destroyed, idiot beast...]

I jolted out of my trance, breaking the connection with the three women by unconsciously pushing Elizabeth right off the edge of the bed. Like I had suspected, Kara was on top of me, my cock buried inside her, but when I opened my eyes, she was staring down at me with a look of fear on her face.

“What the hell was that?” Megan yelled next to me. “What the fuck were those things in the boxes, and why...?”

“Shush, Megan,” Kara said. “We’ll explain that in a minute.” She pulled off from me, and grabbed my satphone off the nightstand. “I need to call Mei and get them out of there.”