The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Awesome, Julia thought. She tried pressing the car ignition button again, and then again, tried holding it down longer; the engine didn’t even try to restart and it made the dashboard displays crazier.

Well, it’ll certainly lend authenticity to saying I’m here because my car broke down.

Kinda hoped to have it as an escape option, though.

She’d been a little nervous about what she was planning, but that was the first time she got actually scared. Backing out had been a possibility before. After all, she didn’t really need a home run right off the bat to make the local news website work; there were still school board and plan commission meetings to cover; nice boring city politics. What had she been thinking?

Now half her car dashboard was blinking in odd rhythms that made her head swim; she stared at the other half trying to make sense of the error… messages…

…stared…

Julia shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut. She shut the car down, got out, locked the doors, and started walking. Might as well.

What was I thinking?

Dr. Chandera. I was thinking of Dr. Chandera.

Iteration 1 — Objectives 0/7

E:

Feldercarp, those aliens look so weird. So. …sorry, I’ve forgotten your name. That always—

P:

Perry.

E:

—takes me a while. Any idea how we get out of these tubes? There’s some kind of control—

P:

Yeah, the left lever does shapes while the right— hang on, lemme try something.

Sys:

Incorrect code entered. Conversion beams activating.

P:

What—

E:

That was f—

It was the plan commission meetings — back when she’d had a newspaper job — that had pulled her into this mess. This two-mile-and-change stretch of Shaefer Creek Road was among the last undeveloped areas this close to town. Vance Holcomb owned a chunk of the land south of the road (and more than a little of the developed areas east and west of this stretch), but was running into issues with the commission when he tried to do anything with it. Not so much opposition as pure inertia: just… nothing, like his zoning requests had fallen into a black hole.

“That’s what you oughta be writing about,” he’d told her, letting not the way homes are flooding now when they didn’t before I cleared the land for my developments and not how cozy I am with certain city officials remain unspoken. His hand was working something in his palm as he pointed a finger at her. “That’s what you oughta be looking at.”

What she’d been looking at, though — especially since he’d raised it to her face — was the object in his hand, which wasn’t his usual pen or vaping wand. “What’s that?” she asked.

“What’s wh—“ Holcomb began, then opened his palm and looked at the flat white stone, about the size of a jumbo rubber eraser. His face had looked puzzled for a moment. “Oh, it’s a worry stone. It’s something Doc— something I was given, to fidget with.” A moment later, the usual irritation was back in his face— but not as strongly. He started to gesture at her again, but seemed to have forgotten what he was going to say, mumbled something, and walked away.

Julia might not have thought anything more about it, except that she had noticed one of the plan commission members holding a similar stone as he left the meeting room.

It had been the next week’s meeting where she first heard the words “Starwind Retreat Center.” It was on the north side of Shaefer Creek Road, and that was all anyone seemed to know about it — or care. The commission had approved the zoning variance with hardly any discussion at all, and that made Julia perk right up. But the really weird part had been Vance Holcomb, who Julia had expected to raise holy hell. Instead, he was smiling. Like, actually smiling — not the predatory showing of teeth or I-win-you-lose not-really-smiles he usually wore. The smile didn’t flicker at all when his gaze crossed hers, and that had never happened.

He’s getting a cut of the deal, she’d thought. He has to be. But he wasn’t behaving like he normally did when that was the case. He seemed… genuinely happy. Like — almost like —

“God bless us every one,” she’d said, “and it’s not even Christmas.” She was slightly embarrassed to realize she’d used her out-loud voice for that, and looked around to see if anyone had heard.

A dark-haired woman, striking in a way that was hard to pin down, had been nearby and looked amused. She was tall enough that her pendant, a pearlescent half-dollar-sized disc, was only a little below Julia’s eye level. There was an awkward eternity as Julia tried to work out what the odd sigil etched into the disc meant, then she’d blinked and looked up into the woman’s eyes — a trick of the light, or an after-effect from gazing at the pendant, giving them a similar pearlescent quality. “I’m sorry,” Julia had said. “You… were saying something?”

The woman smiled warmly. “You’ll do.”

Before Julia could even start to wonder what that had meant, Holcomb had rushed up and… hugged the woman? In a non-grabby way?

“Dr. Chandera. So great to see you. Do you know Julia Rebec? She writes for the Sun-Herald,” he’d said. And not the slightest trace of venom. Post-spirits Scrooge, indeed.

“Not until now. A pleasure to meet you.” She extended a hand, and Julia took it, which somehow led to another fugue staring at the pendant — it’s not… glowing, is it? — and totally not at what was immediately below the pendant, no matter how distractingly inviting they were under the satin of the doctor’s business-suit blouse. Julia was conscious of Holcomb saying “See you next Tuesday?” and Chandera replying “Of course,” and he was gone.

A moment(?) later, so was Chandera, and Julia found herself not quite able to remember how they had parted. She looked around the meeting room, saw Chandera hugging the commissioner who’d had the stone the previous week — Holcomb didn’t have his, she suddenly realized — and greeting another commissioner.

Who had held up her own worry stone in returning the greeting.

Chandera, Julia suddenly remembered. Doesn’t she own controlling interest in Starwind Retreat Center?

It was the next day, as Julia was researching the online records for Chandera’s psychiatric practice for a possible followup story — her report on the previous day’s proceedings having been a straightforward, unelaborated account of what the commission had and hadn’t approved — that she, a sports reporter, a photographer and three copy editors had been called one by one into a downstairs conference room; handed the documents for the corporate severance package; asked to confirm their mailing addresses so their belongings, as boxed by security, could be shipped to them; and escorted from the building.

Iteration 4 — Objectives 1/7

P:

OK. Eleanor. Eleanor?

E:

Eleanor.

P:

Do you see anything that isn’t in this weird alien script?

E:

Are we supposed to decode it? Is that part of the puzzle?

P:

Do we have enough time? Wait, how much time do we have?

E:

I don’t know. This doesn’t seem to work like a normal escape room. Like that instant game over we kept getting before we figured out how to share the tube codes. Of course, this is partly VR — AR? — so…

P:

I’m not even sure how much time has passed. They took my phone, and I don’t have a watch.

E:

Well, just start pressing buttons, and see what happens.

P:

OK, I’m starting with this one, and I’ll hit the others in order.

E:

I wish I had a notebook or something, to write all this down.

Over speaker:

My name is… Janice Wright. Lieu… tenant. Serial nummmmmmm…

P:

What’s happening to her?

E:

Probably the same thing that was happening to us when we were in the tubes.

P:

She looks like she’s… enjoying it…

E:

Y-yeah.

Over speaker:

Nnnnnn… nnnnnggggg…

E:

Try… try another button. We should—whoa! Her eyes—did you see her eyes?

A:

Humans! You will not escape!

And now seven weeks had passed since she’d been laid off, and she was walking alone down Shaefer Creek Road as dusk began to set in. Maybe on foot she could figure out where the entrance to the retreat center was? She’d driven past three times without seeing anything but solid trees on the north side. (On the south side the turnoff leading to Vance Holcomb’s new development, no longer stalled—and now in partnership with Starwind—was open, though untravelled now since construction had stopped for the evening. They were paying more attention to drainage now, she’d noticed.)

Something was there, she knew. She’d taken to frequenting the diner across from Chandera’s practice (the food was cheap and fairly tasty, and they had good WiFi), and heard Myrna Holcomb praising Dr. Chandera and telling a friend that sessions at the retreat with Vance had saved their marriage (the friend, a city councilman’s wife, was holding a worry stone). A friend who wrote online reviews of local entertainment hinted that he’d been to the place, “for previews,” but didn’t want to spoil anything.

And it was no longer just the well-connected who were appearing in the diner holding worry stones. But people had only seemed to have the stones for a few days. After that, they came in looking happier, more relaxed. More friendly, with each other—often to the point of what her old high school teachers had referred to as Public Displays of Affection. A few had even started wearing sigil pendants, like Chandera’s but smaller. And they would speak of the retreat.

But no one seemed to know how you actually got there. Even the ones who had been there before seemed to space out for a moment then forget the question. No matter how often it was asked. (The ones with the pendants would just smile—and then, somehow, it was Julia who forgot the question.)

And twice while Julia had been there, Dr. Chandera herself had walked in, and Julia’s capability of rational thought had walked out, replaced by ideas like leather and damn, those eyes and please notice me. And: She’s still wearing that pendant. And: Gee, it would be nice if I still had health insurance and could make an appointment with her.

And: an increasing need to find out more about her. Either because she was a cult leader and a threat to humanity, or for… reasons.

She said I’d do.

For what?

A ride with a helicopter pilot of Julia’s acquaintance had revealed a clearing and a circular building with cars parked nearby; the latest map-app satellite photo, about five months old, still showed solid trees. And how the hell did they clear the site? How did they get any construction equipment in there?

If nothing else, maybe she could pick her way through the trees until she found the building.

As it’s getting dark. Yeah, that’s a good plan.

There were headlights behind her, followed by a brief squeal of brakes. She looked back just in time to see someone not hit her car. Then she recognized the someone, who pulled up beside her.

Perry Meisner had been in the first round of Sun-Herald layoffs a decade and change earlier, a few years after she’d joined the staff fresh out of college. He’d been shooting photos for the paper for close to 20 years at the time. She was a little embarrassed to realize that she’d lost track of what he was doing these days.

“Meisner,” she said as he rolled down the window. “Good to see a familiar face. Can I get a lift? Electrical system went crazy on me.”

“Um. Where to? I’m supposed to be going to a… well, a sort of a group session… social… thing... my therapist recommended. But I think I took a wrong turn.”

Oh crap, she thought. He’s got a worry stone. Her mouth opened and shut before she said, “Well, someplace I can get a cellphone signal will do. And there is supposed to be a sort of retreat center just up this road a bit, so maybe you’re in the right place after all.”

“Maybe. Hold on, let me…” Perry cleared camera equipment and junk mail off the passenger seat and Julia climbed in. “So you know where this place is?”

“Um, yeah.” She pointed vaguely ahead as he started driving again, then looked at the stone in Perry’s hand. “So. This therapist…”

Perry didn’t seem to hear her. He was scanning the side of the road, holding the steering wheel with one hand while the other, bizarrely, started holding the stone against the back of his neck. Then, suddenly: “There!”

Julia shrieked as he whipped the steering wheel and stepped on the gas. Ohcrap, he’s headed straight for that—

—driveway. Julia turned to look out the back window as she caught her breath.

“Sorry, I didn’t see it until I was right on top of it.” He had both hands on the wheel now, holding the stone against it with his thumb. “You OK?”

You didn’t see it because it wasn’t there, Julia thought. Not until we were in it already. What the hell?

He was glancing at her; she was looking at the stone. She held her hand out: “Do you mind if…?”

“Hm? Oh, no, go ahead.” He handed it to her.

For all that she’d seen them so increasingly often, this was the first time she’d gotten this close a look. It was white, rounded. It looked smooth from a distance but up close she noticed etchings like computer circuits, and almost microscopic spiky… things. When she ran her thumb over the surface, they appeared to pass through her skin, but she didn’t feel them, and they didn’t break the surface. “So, I guess you heard…”

“Yeah. Sorry to hear it. At least when they laid me off — back in, what was it, ’07? ’08? — they gave a couple weeks notice instead of marching us out of the building right then. Of course, that was a couple of owners ago.”

“Yeah, it took most of the month before they mailed me my stuff. Oh, you know that mug we all got for the paper’s 100th anniversary? They threw mine out. Too moldy.” Julia snorted. “Of course, if I’d known I wouldn’t get to come back to the desk to finish drinking my coffee…” She was silent a moment, tracing an etched line with one finger. “Or that they’d wait three weeks to pack my desk.”

They had just emerged into the clearing, the wide, low building now visible. That was longer than I expected, Julia thought. Glad I didn’t have to walk. Perry was speaking: “I talked to Bobby just after you guys got it. Not that I had much advice to offer him on finding shooting work. I still do a little freelance” — he jerked a thumb at the equipment he’d just moved to the back seat — “weddings and stuff, mostly people I know. But mainly I work tech support now. It’s not what you’d call real fun, but I needed the health insurance. It’s — well, it’s paying for this, among other things. At least, I hope it is.”

He had said that last like a joke, but she could feel the real fear that underlay it. And grief: his parents had died a year-ago car wreck, she remembered. Loneliness, from the divorce soon after he was laid off—

She fought to regain her own thoughts, her own emotions, holding the stone more gingerly as he pulled in alongside the dozen cars here already and stopped the engine. “So how are you holding up?” he asked.

Julia waggled a hand as she gave the worry stone back to him, hoping he didn’t notice her confusion. “Severance ran out a week ago, so I’m on savings now. I’m looking at setting up a website for local news, try to cover some of the stuff the Sher’s given up on. Need to figure out how it’ll pay for itself, though, much less enough for me to live on. Mom’s getting kind of antsy. I think she’s afraid I’ll be moving back in soon.” Julia opened the car door and started to climb out. “She might not be wrong.”

They walked to what looked like the building’s sole entrance, behind an arch topped with a strange sigil. The same as Dr. Chandera’s, Julia noted. A woman greeted them at the door wearing a dress of flowing silvery cloth, her head covered in a hat or scarf or something of the same material, and a pendant, smaller than Chandera’s, with the same sigil.

“You must be Perry,” she said. “Welcome to Starwind Retreat.”

Iteration 7 — Objectives 3/7

Over speakers:

…Wright. Lieu…tennnnggg…

Alien 1:

She will be a worthy addition to the collective. Even at her mind’s paltry human level, she made progress learning our language. Enhanced, she will serve us well.

Alien 2:

The escaped humans are proving nearly as resourceful.

Alien 1:

They will not get far. They will soon be ours as well.

Over speakers:

Ahhhh! — mmmm…

Alien 2:

Ah, her conversion is complete. Let us greet our new sister.

E:

Holy crap, those aliens look so… hot…

P:

I was watching the monitor—it looked like those beams dissolved the lieutenant’s uniform, just before the picture— I mean, it probably wasn’t— (taps side of headset) —it probably wasn’t a real person, just computer. Um.

E:

Yeah. So. Um. Looks like the, um, notes they took from the, from the soldier translate a few of these alien glyphs—see, she got numbers figured out, at least. So we might be able to use that to activate these consoles? Oh—turn the security monitor back on so we can see if the aliens are coming back.

P:

Right. Done. — OK, so this one’s 3… 1… 7… 9… Huh. OK. It’s in alien. I can understand a little of it, but… here, let me see those notes—

E:

Wait—look at that room on the security monitors. That symbol matches this—I think that’s the console we need.

P:

So how do we get there without getting caught?

E:

Yikes, they’ve got the converted soldier patrolling the hall. Yeah, that’s not creepy.

P:

That uniform she’s wearing—there’s some like it back in the closet. With the helmets on they won’t see our faces.

E:

That’s pretty freaking tight. Will they fit?

P:

…if we strip completely?

E:

…what kind of escape room is—

(Drone enters, opening visor on helmet to reveal glowing eyes)

J-drone:

Unauthorized persons detected. You will submit.

P:

She doesn’t have a gun… maybe… we…

E:

Ooooh…

J-drone:

My brain is enhanced but remains human, like yours. Thus I am able to match thought patterns to yours and psionically dominate you. You desire me. You will submit.

P/E:

We… desire you… we… will submit…

Past a hallway—desk to the left, coat hanging area to the right— a bunch of people milled about in a common area with several doors leading away. It was softly lit, with gently pulsing and spinning patterns projected onto the walls, and not-quite-definable music playing at the edge of hearing, mostly drowned out by conversation. Tables, each decorated with the sigil, held food and drink. About half the people seemed to be retreat employees, all wearing sigil pendants and headwear that seemed to have a built in LED tucked underneath.

All women, Julia noted. And the… clients?… all have worry stones.

The memory of Dr. Chandera and her pendant was distracting. The woman was literally mesmerizing.

Literally literally, as Julia was increasingly coming to appreciate in this strange place, and it was starting to scare her again.

“I am Rissa,” the woman who greeted them was saying. “I will be your main counselor this evening. Relax and mingle for now. The main programming starts in about an hour.” Julia caught an odd note in the word “programming” and looked at Perry, who appeared nervous and confused.

“Yeah… what sort of programming is this going to be, exactly?” he asked. “Dr. Chandera was a bit… vague… about that.”

“There will be role-playing exercises designed to boost your personal human interactions and improve your state of mind,” Rissa said. “Dr. Chandera indicated to us a concern that you were not getting out enough. Although…” She let that trail off, looking at Julia.

“Oh, this is a former co-worker of mine. Her car—”

“My car broke down on the road near here. I was wondering…” The gap in her cover story suddenly occurred to her, and she checked her cellphone: No signal. All the better for my cover story, she thought. All the more scary for me. “I was wondering if you had a phone I could use?” To call who, bright spark? “And a phone… book. For the wrecker.” Real smooth. Do they even have phone books anymore? Tell her your name is Janet Weiss, while you’re at it. The Time Warp should be starting any moment now.

Rissa smiled. “I will see if one is available. Wait here, please; access to other areas requires a glyph. Perry, if you will come with me, please?”

The counselor took Perry a little deeper into the common area, leaving Julia feeling alone and exposed. She looked around — observing. Like journalists do — to occupy herself. There were a few obvious couples, but most of the… patients? clients? guests?… appeared to be single. Glyphs. They call the stones glyphs here. Admission passes?

The lights and the low music helped calm her, somehow. As did the way the counselors would look at her and smile before turning their attention back to their assigned guests.

Assigned? Yes, there did seem to be one for each guest, and Rissa continued to hover beside Perry, smiling warmly, watching him closely, even as he seemed to be focused on her… pendant. I know that feeling, buddy. She heard Rissa ask him “How long has it been?” and snorted. That’s kind of personal, isn’t it?

But now Rissa was staring intently at Perry, saying something to him in a low voice, and Perry’s eyes were glazed over, his mouth hanging open slightly. Julia moved closer in and heard: “…to improve human understanding by deepening interpersonal connections…”

Corporate mission statement gobbledygook. Well, yeah, that’ll leave anyone’s eyes glazed over. But the way she was staring at him, and especially the way he was holding the stone to the back of his neck again—

He snapped out of it. Rissa had stopped talking and was looking at him with something that suspiciously resembled satisfaction.

“This way, please,” she said, and steered him towards one of the doors. Another of the counselors was steering a woman in the same direction, and Julia saw Rissa and the other counselor exchange Significant Glances. Uh-oh. Julia knew the woman, vaguely — a professor at the local university, a folklore expert who was working on a book on UFO mythology in American culture. Her T-shirt had a flying-saucer design on it.

“Hello, I am Jenara,” the other counselor said, “Eleanor, this is…”

“Perry.” Rissa supplied. Julia had the odd feeling that saying this out loud was strictly for Perry’s and Eleanor’s benefit (and hers?) — that each counselor already knew who the other was shepherding. He and Eleanor exchanged awkward waves.

“You should get to know each other. The main programming will begin shortly,” Jenara said, as Rissa turned to Julia: “And there is a phone available for you, in the office there.” The counselor pointed to a door.

When did you have a chance to learn that? You never left Perry’s side.

It’s a trap, said the octopus dude.

“…Thank you.” Julia looked at Perry, who was more focused on Eleanor, and gestured uncertainly toward the office. “I’ll just… yeah. Back in a bit.”

She blushed furiously as she threaded her way through tables and people to the indicated door, which she closed behind her and leaned against, closing her eyes and breathing deeply.

She was only now starting to truly appreciate how insane and dangerous this was. One large, low, round building, looking nothing at all like a grounded flying saucer. And not staffed by “counselors” who look like they came straight from a sci-fi film.

So what are you doing here?

I’m working to expose Dr. Chandera —

This caused a fugue state for a moment as she pondered possible alternate meanings of “expose.”

—because people need to know that she’s dangerous and I’m scared of what she’s hypnotizing people to do. Like me.

Which is what, exactly?

That’s what I’m here to find out. …Right?

Or is it because you want me to hypnotize you?

She scares me. She turns me on. She scares me because of how she turns me on.

So call the wrecker and go. You can come back later, right? You know where it is now.

At the end of a driveway that you have to be holding a creepy rock near the base of your brain to be able to see. In a building that totes doesn’t look like the inside doesn’t fit right with the outside, with women who totes don’t talk without contractions or wear creepy glowing cult outfits. Someplace where my thoughts—

Yes?

Pronouns, Julia thought. I. You. I’m messing up pronouns. Why am I doing that?

Are you? Are you sure? There was amusement there.

…Not all those thoughts were mine, were they?

She opened her eyes slowly. She was absolutely certain the office had been empty when she entered, and that this was the only door.

Dr. Chandera was in front of her now, smiling, wearing a slightly more elaborate version of the dress the other counselors were wearing, and the LED or whatever under the headdress was glowing brighter, pulsing more.

“Doctor—“

“There is no more need for formality. Not here,” she said, unexpectedly, out loud. “Call me Shola.”

“I… would have made an appointment, but I had no insurance.”

“Yes,” she said, and Julia felt the genuine sympathy in the word. “Your loss of employment was… unexpected. It threw something of a wrench in our plans for you. But now you are here. Now… we can begin.”

She reached up and pulled back the silver headscarf, revealing a glowing, pulsing something on bald scalp just above her forehead. Looking at it pulled on Julia’s mind; it didn’t quite fit on Shola’s head in much the same way the inside of the retreat didn’t quite fit in the outside. Shola put her hand up to it and there was a sort of flash; when her hand came away it was holding something like a worry-stone but glowing and only half substantial.

Shola reached out and, with a gentleness that Julia hadn’t expected, touched the stone to the back of her neck, pressed it into her neck, into her skull. Immediately Julia felt a calmness descend upon her. Look upon me without the filter of fear, came the thought in her mind as Shola held her gaze. See me.

Shola was even more beautiful now, Julia realized. Beautiful in soul, beautiful in power, her robes becoming sheer in the glow from beneath, revealing her magnificent alien body. What had seemed to be human breasts pulsed with energy, diffuse except for bright scintillating light from irises where human nipples would be. Julia’s breath caught as her gaze traveled down, then back up to Shola’s deep, deep eyes. She longed to be held by Shola in body and in mind, and knew she was, knew she would be.

I have so much to show you. You have so much to learn. Come with me.

The clients had entered their antechambers, been given headsets to wear — augmented reality, they were told. The glyph stone slotted into place in the headset, held against the back of neck. They then perceived themselves as walking into and around their escape rooms.

In truth, each was now suspended in a faintly glowing force field. Julia could perceive this now, as she could perceive the transdimensional structure of the vessel they were in. They were no longer where an unaugmented human could see or hear them.

She rubbed the back of her neck. “What did you give me?”

“A thrulliv metasite,” Shola said. “It serves as a bridge between my mind and yours. A… child… of the thrul symbiont, in some ways, and in other ways a virus. It will trigger certain changes in your body, making you more like us.”

“No stone needed?”

“Not for you. You have a degree of attunement most humans lack. Partly, I think, the curiosity that drove you to become a journalist. But also… well, you will see.”

“So is this an invasion, or what?”

Shola was thoughtful. “An… intervention, perhaps? It is, genuinely, our mission to aid connections between sapients, to spread the joy of the Thrullna.” Her smile faded, slightly. “We are, among other things, empathic. And there is a great deal of… unhappiness… on this world. It is troubling to us, and it requires action.”

They had reached an observation area overlooking small knots of clients. Shola smiled and gestured toward a gently glowing crystal, and Julia touched it. Instantly, she found herself in an enchanted glade, elven beauties ensorcelling the humans with ancient magics. Another crystal revealed a gothic castle with vampiresses, their red glowing eyes bringing victims under their thrall. Another: adepts pronouncing the ur-language that bypassed conscious thought and spoke directly to the soul.

In each case Julia was able to enter the clients’ minds. For each, this was a particularly desired fantasy. A shared fantasy, since there were one to three others in each group, their thoughts flowing into each other—

She gasped, lifting her hand from the crystal to look at Shola.

“Yes,” Shola said. “You begin to understand the reason for the stones.”

Then Julia looked out at the humans floating in the force fields and stretched out her new senses, focusing on the glyph stones slotted into each headset.

Each human’s headset had the stone of someone else in the group. Each was, in fact, in the process of transferring its psychic payload into the mind of the headset wearer.

“You’re creating telepathic bonds,” Julia said. “You’re using the shared fantasies as a guide for matchmaking, and then you’re pairing... pairing?” She looked again.

“Sometimes two. Sometimes more than two,” Shola said. “Some of those groups had already formed, before they came to us. Some are couples who sought counseling to repair or strengthen their relationships. Some are and will remain firmly pair-bonded. Other couples had… gaps… that we found we could fill, once their minds were opened to the possibility. That is the essence of our work: opening minds to… possibilities.”

Julia nodded, smiling. She looked out at the group she had been saving for last, and touched her hand to their crystal.

It was a ’50s-style flying saucer interior. Rissa and Jenara were playing the invading aliens who were abducting humans for conversion into their agents, and a human returning for another session — her linked partner, home recovering from illness, experiencing the scenario vicariously — played a military scout captured and converted while investigating the aliens. And Perry and Eleanor, as fresh abductees who had escaped their confinement, were unashamedly nude and enthusiastically helping each other into the skintight alien uniforms they would need as a disguise to get to the next room.

This is the tenth time they have played this scenario tonight, each time progressing farther, came the thought from Shola. They believe that at each reset the game ends immediately and they proceed straight into the next iteration. In truth, their mindsets have been… adjusted… each time.

They really were getting alien brainwashing each time, Julia responded. Nice.

El and Pev, as they were calling each other, slipped past the converted scout (whose mouth twitched into a grin once they were out of sight) and into the final room. They fully comprehended the alien words on the console, and entered the code that would sabotage the aliens’ fiendish plot to conquer the Earth, then entered an escape pod and hit the launch button.

“That. Was. SO. COOL!” They were back in the central space, and El was excitedly waving her arms. “The effects and the escape pod and—ah!” She hugged a grinning Pev, who hugged back. (“ ‘Pev’?” Julia had asked. “Short for Perry Victor. My middle name,” he’d said.)

“Shame you weren’t able to play,” he told Julia.

Julia smiled. “Maybe next time.”

The two were still wearing their silvery ’50s flying-saucer uniforms, which the counselors — who were now back in their Starwind Retreat uniforms — had told them they could keep.

Neither had noticed as they handed back the headsets that the worry stones were now missing; each still absently rubbed the backs of their necks from time to time, but any puzzlement at what they felt beneath the skin immediately vanished from their faces and was replaced with a smile. They smiled at each other a lot. Julia couldn’t read their minds fully — not yet. She hardly needed to.

“Whenever you wish to return, we can resume the scenario,” Rissa told them. “Julia can take part then. And it can play out… differently, if you choose.”

Julia saw El’s breath catch as she and Perry looked at each other, at Janice, at the two counselors… and at Julia, who allowed a measure of wickedness to show in her smile. And a measure of encouragement to leak from her mind to the two others.

“That’s… a possibility,” El said.

But first, you two will need to get to know each other better, Julia thought. They would be co-habiting soon, of course; to forestall their stress in deciding which of their two existing apartments they would use, a home for them was already being prepared in a real-estate development secretly controlled by the Thrullna and connected to the Starwind Retreat. The terms would be quite affordable.

That and other developments on the perimeter of the retreat property were already occupied by existing clients. Including Janice, who was happily touching her new sigil pendant and including Julia in the lascivious thoughts sent back toward her partner. (“Tell Ray we hope they get to feeling better,” Jenara said. “I’ll tell them,” Janice replied.)

“So,” Perry said, looking around at those other guests who had completed their programming. “The other rooms…”

“…Contain different scenarios, which you are naturally welcome to also try,” Jenara said. “Vampires, modern, Victorian, psychic; fae; witchcraft; demons. Steampunk, cyberpunk. And of course, aliens with more modern aesthetics. We have a scenario, for instance, where you are crew on a future starship.”

“That sounds like fun,” Perry said.

“We’ll definitely be back,” El said.

The two parted somewhat reluctantly. They would be sleeping in separate beds tonight, but they would never be apart — not in the ways that mattered — for the rest of their lives, even if they remained as yet not fully aware of how their minds were connected now.

Julia watched as their counselors saw them out; felt the presence of Shola strengthen as the Thrulln commander approached from behind and put Her arms around Julia, who closed her eyes and leaned back.

And you. Do you wish to sleep in your own bed tonight?

Oh, hell, no, thought Julia back, and they made their way to what had earlier been the office door, but now led somewhere… else. Somewhere with none of the basic human functionality or decor that the office had. There was no furniture here. There was no need. Things like gravity and time had only a tenuous hold here.

Shola reached up and pulled back her silver headscarf, revealing the glowing, pulsing thrul. Julia moved a bang of hair aside to reveal the germinal thrul that she now bore. The two organs touched.

Eventually they would shed their clothes and make physical love, but that would come much later. In the farther future Julia would be helping to solidify the online presence for the retreat and the real-estate and psychological services ventures, to help spread Thrullna contentment.

But this, now, was the important part. This was the true union.

One last English word passed though Julia’s mind before the melding switched fully to Thrullna thought patterns.

Awesome.

Iteration 15 — Objectives 8/7

Commander Shola:

You do not try to stop us?

El:

We have no desire to resist.

Pev:

We want to join with you.

Shola:

Yes. You have proven your worthiness.

Shola:

Then let yourself fall into our power, and join with us. Earth will be ours, but first… we can celebrate your joining. Come, then.

Rissa, Jenara, Julia:

Come.