The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Wolf 359 system

Silver still couldn’t believe the names of the worlds they were approaching. The Blue Static was currently on an approach vector for Wolf 359’s two habitable worlds of Tattooine and Kro’nos.

It seemed the 21st century Jedi-ites and Trekkers had successfully argued that they had a legally recognized religion (under the rules of the British census of 2001) and that Klingon was a language recognized by US medical authorities in Iowa (who at one time had advertised for an interpreter to speak to a mental patient).

His Master had undoubtedly had a good laugh about it. For one of his power, making a few million people believe they really were what they secretly always longed to be, would have been child’s play.

Naturally 1000 years of cultural evolution had produced worlds that would have made any self respecting Trekker or Jedi turn in his grave. The Klingons in particular had taken mardi-gras camp to its ultimate form.

City of Mos Korath

K’harlie checked his make-up and jewellery for a final time. A boy just couldn’t go out without at least an hour’s preparation, especially when you were a member of a top boyband like K’shattered, especially when you were going to go head to head with a band like the Broken-Wans in a matter of hours.

The Rock Idol tournament was down to the wire this year. The slaughter of the earlier rounds had made it one of the best competitions he’d seen in years...and the thought that he was both a competitor and contender was a high-G Ride of elation and fear. Who would have thought that a band who’d been playing gigs in their dad’s landspeeder storage unit could be proppelled to the hieghts by a cover version of a thousand year old ditty.

“Are you fucking ready yet?” growled K’Annette his phycho girlfriend and bodyguard.

K’Annette was doing reps with a pair of vari-grav bar-bells whilst she waited. She was convinced her pectorals weren’t flat enough and was working hard to burn off any slight hint of breast. She was so femininely muscular it hurt his eyes.

His brother K’evin grinned and gave him the thumbs down of approval. K’evin’s opinion was of course of little value, he’d shocked both family and Clan by deliberately seeking out a gay lover..and then becoming fully Obedient to it. K’evin was only here now because his Master gained prestige by having his Obedient hanging out with his bro.

Privately K’harlie was shocked by the changes that Obedience had wrought on his little brother. Gone was the sultry, sulky, temperamental delicate flower replaced by a person at total peace with himself. He’d even allowed his Master to dictate how his body should look, the kinky fag Derek-Wan liked his Obedients feminized, poor K’evin was nearly as muscular as K’Annette!

K’harlie gave his pink and ultra-violet braided sash one last check and headed for the door. The roar of teenage Wans and K’in screaming their adoration hit him like a wave. Damn this was good.

Tattooine Orbit

Silver looked out on the vast city as they descended through its upper layers.

This was no frontier post, it had proper space-elevators, You could get from orbit to ground in one of several glass(?) walled platforms that gave a truly spectacular view of Mos Korath’s hanging gardens...or a super High-G freefall depending on preference.

The Wolf worlds were unique in so many ways; not only in their strange cultural origin but also because they were split 50/50 between Free-Willed and Obedient. According to the database the inhabitants had a reassuringly free wheeling attitude to both sex and obedience swapping back and forth as the mood took them.

After the red-neck hostility of Tribeca and the alienesque ghost-town of Atlantis, the brightly lit utopia coming into view below was a welcome change.

534 Kai’s hand slipped into his. Kai’s eyes were probably as wide as his own and Garion wasn’t much better. The three of them probably had the equivalent of ‘country boy’ pointers sticking out of their heads.

Fortunately Sil and Ham were familiar with the city and promised to show them the sights during their shore leave...they’d also warned that the phrase ‘you don’t need to see our identification’ wasn’t considered funny.

It felt good to be back in his leathers anyway, even if he had kind of gotten used to the easy nakedness of the midshipmen’s berth...and if anyone wanted to take advantage of their ‘country boy’ status, well his thieving skills needed a good sharpening.

The Space Elevator finally ‘landed’ in a customs concourse decorated with (to him) exotic plants and riotous topiary. Silver sensed the brush of a thousand mental probes against his mind, each one seeking a specific criminal intent. Pass through here with a thought of doing harm and you’d be detected in an instant.

The sensation was coming from the nearest of the bushes. A closer look startled a flock of leaf mimicking avians and revealed a few small mechanical spiders each with a sensor eye; it was a good guess these were the source of the scans.

The 14th Master was watching over them, it made him feel safer in a way, but also made him wonder why such measures were necessary.

“Stop looking at the PortSec! They’ll only body search us” hissed Ham

“Wow! Will they? Where’s the PortSec?” asked Kai earning himself a good-natured clip around the ear.

As they moved away the mental probing reduced until finally they passed a row of hedges and into a transport terminus where a variety of public vehicles awaited.

“Where we headed first then?” asked Garion

“It will be sunset soon so we do The Halls of Light” insisted Ham firmly, Sil backing him up with a nod.

“What about our sleeping arrangements? Shouldn’t we find someplace first?” asked Garion nervously

“Trust me, it won’t be a problem.” smirked Ham “We’ll get all the ‘sleeping arrangements’ we need at the Halls

K’harlie had been quite pleased with the new ‘Respect Generator’ that K’Annette was carrying. The tiny device broadcast a small subconscious prod that caused the fans to give their musical heroes room, happy to have been able to create a space for their betters to walk through.

Of course, like all good ideas, it was only as good as the basic concept, as soon as you came across five Fleet crew who didn’t know K’shattered were Wolf 359’s gift to music... you were faced with a situation.

Silver’s eyes narrowed feeling the tweaking at the edge of his mind; a mechanical instruction to ‘show respect’ by stepping aside.

Without any further warning the crowd they were in parted leaving them in a circular space facing three locals. A twinky confection of feathers make-up and delicately erotic leatherwork, flanked by two universe class muscle-heads, one male his neck collared and the second, the bigger of the two, a female.

His first thought was to just sweep past ignoring the low level MC...and then he noticed the way the local in the middle was looking at Garion; and the way Garion was looking back.

It would have to stop, he would have to find a way to teach Garion self control. Garion couldn’t be allowed to collect slaves on every planet, the Blue Static had no room for any passengers. Quickly he stepped between them breaking the eye contact and taking care to make sure his heel firmly crunched Garion’s toes.

The local pretty boy blinked shaking his head. “K’plah! Um..I mean Hi I see you’re not yet fans. Here! Free tickets to tonight’s gig. Perhaps I can persuade you navy types that K’Shattered is the best Boyband in the system...and I can show you the Backstage after”

Silver took the five glowing tickets and smiled politely. He had no idea who on Tattooine K’Shattered were and didn’t care. On the other hand it would give them a chance to patch up the accidental mental hook Garion had put into the guy.

Halls of Light, Gig Level

The security guard in his traditional white plastic armor looked suspiciously at the Wan and his train of exotic plants; eight spheres supported on grav-sleds coupled together like a string of pearls.

“Korgat never said nothing about no plants”

“What can I say” replied the young Wan with a smile the guard instantly found attractive “I just deliver”

“You do?” asked the guard with a suggestively raised eyebrow (his helmet had long since been set aside so that he could smoke at leisure)

“Definitely” replied the Wan placing a delicate hand against the beefy armored chest and pushing gently until the guard’s back was against the wall.

The Guard shook his head trying to clear it. “I shouldn’t be doing this”

“Of course not” agreed the Wan “But you see, I appear to be your perfect mate. When you look at me you see the most compatible form, eager to service that large erection of yours. I expect you’re only just managing to hold yourself back from taking me like an animal, rough, uncontrolled... unthinking. ”

The guard’s expression flowed between alarm and lust, not sure what was happening and incapable of action.

“I can’t” it was more a plea than a refusal

The Wan snuggled closer hitching up his robes to reveal a shaved cock of the perfect sort. The guard’s hands moved to clasp the boyish butt without hesitation, drawing the slim Wan close.

“That’s it... Unthinking, lust driven, total sex”

The guard groaned and lifted the twink slamming him against the wall, feeling naked legs wrap around his waist. With a free hand he unsnapped his white plastic cod-piece, this was going to be good! Immediate gratification, no thought needed, just do it!

The Wan watched as the guard humped against the white plastic wall, carefully dropping his robes back into place, the idiot didn’t even realize he was fucking an illusion; pathetic.

Leaving the guard to his wall he dragged the train of globes deeper into the tower. Once out of sight he quickly added some muscle to his physique and changed hair color, that guard had preferred his meat entirely too chicken-like.

Backstage, Halls of Light

K’harlie was in a dream state. Things were going on around him but they didn’t really matter. All he could concentrate on was the Fleet midshipman he’d seen, so tough, so totally hung, someone a K’in could respect. He really hoped the Fleet boys showed up later.

“Is he alright?” growled K’Annette waving a hand in front of her boyfriend’s face. “Hey! K’harlie! Worf damn it, snap out of it. Come on Charlie!”

K’evin smiled “I think he’s finally seen the truth about obedience. Get ready to be dumped girl; big bro will be servicing the Navy by end of day, might even enlist”

K’Annette whirled around grabbing K’evin’s neck just above his slave collar.

“Nobody steals my man! Got that? you Jedi sucking Obedient!”

K’evin smiled passively. One day K’annette might also understand, but for now he was just happy that his brother was on the verge of becoming someone’s slave. Free Will was so over-rated.

His mind tingled for a moment. His collar was downloading his sensory input to Master.

Master was going to sell the inside story of the band K’shattered. Master would be rich as a result. A rich master would be able to afford much tighter mental controls and more Obedients to help serve him. K’evin was proud that he would be able to provide that wealth.

Suddenly there was feedback, Master sending new instructions.

The female is correct. K’harlie must not be allowed to become obedient. If he leaves the band to join the Fleet his value to us will plummet.

K’evin blinked absorbing Master’s thoughts, then returned his attention to the hand squeezing his throat.

“My Master agrees with you. K’harlie must not become obedient to this Fleet brat.”

K’annette released him, snorting her disgust.

K’harlie ignored the conversation completely, he was fantasizing about how the midshipman would look once he’d had a proper manicure, pedicure and facial... In the fantasy of course it had been he K’harlie applying the blusher, whilst singing something romantic.

Garion glared at Silver’s leather clad backside and hobbled after him. That Klingon had been a real hotty, he’d gotten the impression the boy would have done anything for him...dropped to his knees right there in public and sucked meat if he’d thought to ask. It hadn’t been at all like that ghastly Lagooner, he was almost certain he hadn’t messed with the singer’s mind, ...almost.

Besides, it hadn’t needed the damn Ship’s Boy to put his foot down, that had been completely contra-indicated in his opinion. It bloody hurt too.

It wasn’t helping that the simple straight-line walk to the Halls was only a theoretical straight line. The wide shopping mall that formed the first 20 levels of the Halls of Light were a minefield of sophisticated self targeting advertisements. If you didn’t stay to the snake-winding safe-zone path your mind was subject to all sorts of subliminal, holographic and aromatic assaults.

Silver of course hadn’t purchased anything, but the rest of them had each succumbed and purchased at least one souvenir. Poor Kai with his lower mental resistance had had a much rougher time until finally the advertisers sensed his credit balance was drained and stopped hitting on him.

Things had gotten easier when a street urchin offered to become Obedient for the afternoon, guide them and carry all the shopping bags...for a few credits.

There had been a short haggle over price and terms of service (nothing illegal or sexual) at the end of which the 14 year old had pulled a small crystal disk from his robes and attached it to his forehead.

His face had immediately assumed a look of tranquil passivity that was disturbingly similar to the one the singer had had.

Astute as ever Silver’s first question was to ask the youngster how much he had overcharged them for his service. Garion was shocked to learn they’d paid five times over the odds.

These Halls of Light had better be good Garion thought to himself grumpily. His foot hurt, his credit rating had taken a hit and despite the richness of this world he already longed to be back aboard Blue Static where he belonged....of course it wouldn’t hurt if he could show the singer the ship. Yes that would be ideal, perhaps after the gig he could take the singer up for a romantic evening on the deckplates.

Halls of Light, Gig level

Matt-wan finished pissing against the corridor wall and lowered his robes. Personally he found it disgusting, but he’d drawn the short straw and had to be the outrageous one today, the journalists had to be fed after all...He’d have to trash his beautiful hotel room later, he wasn’t looking forward to it, it was such a waste.

Still, winning the contest was the only thing that mattered, their manager, required it. The irony that their contract forced them to be more obedient than an illegal chip-clone was a bitter pill, even if the 0.5% of profit they earned was worth millions.

Something rolled along the floor distracting him from his self-disgust. It was a sphere, about the size of a grav-ball. He looked closer, it was actually two spheres, one inside the other, the outer sphere rolled but the inner one maintained its contents in an upright position.

It was some sort of high tech plant pot containing a flower that seemed to be a cross between an orchid and a vine; its flower was changing color in a pulsing strobe.

Matt-wan had never seen anything like it. Obviously it was rare, fascinated he picked up the globe for a closer look. The flower seemed to be changing color faster now, ribbons of dark and light flowing across its surface as the bloom moved slowly to face him. For a plant the speed of movement was remarkably fast, it still took fully five minutes to re-orient itself however. At some point during those five minutes he concluded that as he’d found her, she was his plant now.

Matt-wan waited patiently for his plant to finish turning toward him. Behind the plant he could see a Wan watching patiently, a handsome one, not that that was important.

“Hello Matt-wan of the Broken Wans” said the Wan

“Uh.. Hi...”

“It’s fascinating isn’t it”

“Huh?”

“The Hamadryad you’re holding”

“Oh..” replied Matt-wan paying no attention at all.

“Normally I’d just shape shift into a form that you’d find irresistibly attractive and fuck you into oblivion; but I really haven’t the time to turn myself into an unfeasibly busty centaur bitch for you right now. So... We’ll just make do with our vegetable friend, you and her were going to be introduced anyway.”

Matt-wan nodded absentmindedly.

“Listen carefully. You must listen and obey. Soon you will be feeling new feelings, new instincts. It is important that you are in control of those instincts and only indulge yourself when I command.”

Matt-wan frowned. The words were an annoyance, a buzz in the background distracting him from his plant. The words sank all the way into him, feeling just like hypnosis, not that that mattered right now.

“You are not to give in to your new instincts until you meet with your band members. Once you have done with them your instincts will fade away until I release you again.”

It was all nonsense of course, even if he had been listening. He had no ‘new instincts’ to hold in check.

The globe opened. The annoying man backed away.

Matt-wan raised his plant to eye level to examine it more closely, its flower was truly complex reminding him of something. It was shaped like pussy-lips or...a butt-hole..and it quivered invitingly.

After long moments of consideration he decided that his plant was female. It looked female... at least, it looked female to him. Was it his imagination or was his plant’s flower changing shape to look more like an inviting set of pussy lips dripping with girl juices?

He licked his lips, pussy juice, probably tasting sweet because of the pollen content. It was times like this he was glad he’d paid for that tongue extension, so much better for muff diving.

Without realizing he was doing it he let his tongue lick his plant’s flower. It was like gold, honey, the sound of a great orchestral crescendo, the smell of hot girl, the feel of warm furry velvet, a gift to each of his senses. There could be no hesitation, he pressed the flower to his lips and sent his tongue to explore deeper.

Finally his tongue met the back of his plant’s vagina. A bee sting! Right on the tip of his tongue!

“Damn!” he exclaimed, the pain snapping him out of the mental haze he’d been drifting into.

Quickly he stuck his tongue out. What on Tattooine had made him poke his tongue into his plant anyway?!

There was something attached to the tip, the insect’s stinger? He needed to see. Fortunately his tongue was long enough that he could see the tip of it if he crossed his eyes and pushed his tongue all the way out.

The ‘stinger’ seemed to be a thin green tendril about an inch long with the thickness of a cotton thread, firmly attached to his tongue’s tip.

His plant was still held carefully in his hands he noticed. He was only aware of this because holding the globe was stopping him from pulling the stinger out.

He glanced down and his eye was immediately drawn back to his plant’s fuck-hole dripping juice and waiting for him to....

What? What did it want? To mate? Yes! It wanted to mate! Clearly even plants could tell that a member of the Broken-Wans was prime breeding stock.

Without warning something root-like shot along the centre of his tongue burrowing into the nerve cluster at its base. Electricity jumped from his tongue down his spine to his cock before rebounding to his brain. His cock was suddenly harder than a containment forcefield, bulging, straining every vein. All thoughts of music, of winning the competition, of public decency, all of it vanished.

He’d toyed with being Obedient as a youngster, he knew how it felt; intellectually he understood that he was being had, but it was only a fleeting realization, three seconds later his hands had guided his plant into range of his man-meat and his thoughts stopped being entirely his own.

What happened next was quite invisible, taking place under the cover of his robes and inside his nervous system where no one without a med-scanner could look.

There was a sharp (joyful) pain followed by the feeling that his cock was longer and thicker, a gift. His mouth tasted funny, as if it was full of honey. The sensation faded, not because the taste had gone away, but because it was the natural way for her pollen-laden saliva to taste.

She opened her eyes and began looking for breeders, creatures to bed her seed into.

What luck! A creature was right there holding several adolescents hostage. Immediately she stalked forward her cock ready to plough creature-butt.

“Obey!” snapped the creature.

Matt-Wan felt suddenly dizzy. What had he been thinking? Why had he thought of himself as she?

“Better” said the creature approvingly “Now go find the rest of your boyband and plant your seed like a good shrub.”

She smiled, lustfully. The creature had placed limits, but had sensibly not denied her. She had memory of the boyband creatures, they were prime breeding material, and there was no need to expend valuable energy breaking this creature’s compulsion.

Matt-Wan felt a sudden urge to find the rest of the band. They needed a good fucking, and he needed to strip, his skin needed to feel sunlight.

Once the Hamadryad had departed, eager to spread her seed, the owner of the globes produced a small remote control, reducing the now empty sphere to dust. One boyband down, seven more to go.

Finally they were out of the shopping mall and it’s hypno-advertising. Silver stood on the edge of the drop looking down to the floor of the atrium 53 floors below and then upward at an uncounted number of levels. Either some of the upper floors were invisible forcefields or the residents had some hidden form of flight device.

“Be careful of the drop” warned Sil “They don’t have parapets here, its a cultural thing, the Jedi insisted on not having any and the early Klingons were so macho they went along with it.”

“Permission to speak Masters” said their young guide, in his passive Obedient voice.

“Yes?” replied Garion

“I regret that I can take you no further Masters.”

“Why? We paid top credit”

“The next levels are for sexually active adults only..and.. I must get home and do my assigned homework; tomorrow is a school day.” replied their guide with obedient honesty.

“You are released from service” replied Silver

The youngster removed the obedience disk from his forehead, after a moment his expression went from blank to disappointed.

“What’s wrong kid?”

“I was kind of hoping you’d order me to guide you up there anyways. I Ain’t never been to the Fuck Pits.”

“Put the controller back on”

“Really?” asked the youngster hopefully, hurriedly slapping the disk back into place.

“I am placing credit in your account, as soon as you are old enough you will remember that you saved up enough money to go up there. Now forget about it and go do your homework feeling confident and focused on your task.” Instructed Silver removing the disk and handing it back to the guide.

“ Thanks for guiding us. I’m sure you’ll make someone a fine slave in a couple of years,.”

“Thanks Master! I sure intend to!” said the guide turning to run back down.

After a few moments Kai turned to the others “So... What’s a Fuck Pit?”

Backstage, Halls of Light

Matt-wan stood at the edge of the Dominant class hotel suite’s balcony, letting the sunset rays flow over him. His skin had taken on a healthy green hue and his hunger seemed to ease as he sunbathed, his robes discarded at his feet.

He was confused; he didn’t understand why he’d come back here or why he was drinking sunlight or why he’d thought of himself as female. Sure he’d turned green and his cock was significantly bigger than his old 5 incher...but that hardly made him a girl.

He heard the suite’s outer door slide open; good, her prey had finally returned.

Her lower torso tingled, since starting to photo-synthesize she had dispensed with the un-necessary stomach organ, the space was now more usefully employed. She’d kept the body shape however, a part of her thought of himself as attractive. Attractiveness was a property she understood and encouraged.

Concentrating she quickly changed her skin color back to its orignal bronzed tan. There was no sense alarming the boy creatures before she was ready.

Carl-Wan and Jame-Wan burst into the room talking excitedly.

“Latest poll puts us first! If we can pull a good vote tonight we are headed to Earth Matt!” said Carl-Wan

“Hey what’s with the nudity? Another rebel thing like the corridor pissing idea?” asked Jame-Wan.

Matt-Wan’s eyes narrowed, the male had mentioned Earth, She desperately wanted to be on Earth. Sol’s sunlight allowed significantly better growth and reproduction rates than other systems. She filed the fact away for later, it didn’t change her plans to fuck the band; but it might be advantageous to abstain from further breeding until she was on prime soil.

“No. It’s not part of a publicity stunt. I am naked because I intend to fuck you both”

“I have a bad feeling about this” muttered Jame

“Uh... No thanks. You look pretty fine Matt, but I prefer girls, you know that.” Said Carl

“Then there’s no problem” She smiled

“Reality check Matt! You ain’t no babe, not with that beast dangling between your legs ”

“Hey Carl, you think he’s been Hypno’d? Maybe K’Shattered have spiked him”

“Damn, you could be right. Better flag The Manager, get his techs to scan Matt.”

Now was the time, The Manager was too old to be fertilized and his body would only cause complications if he was allowed to be summoned.

She caused her skin to change color taking on the ever-changing light/dark bands of pigment that her plant’s flower had had. Until that moment she hadn’t realized she could do that. What a kewl ability! Her swirling skin pattern had snared both boys before she’d even finished examining her glowing pectorals and six-pack.

“Must... Look... Away...” stammered Carl-Wan

Jame-Wan didn’t reply, he was already passively immobile.

“Come here Carl-Wan” instructed Matt-wan

Unable to stop himself Carl-wan took a step toward his glowing friend. He hadn’t intended to, but the ever-changing pattern flowing across Matt’s pecs and well-defined abs had him ensnared just like a Col-Pol’s Control-wand.

Like everyone he’d been trained to resist hostile hypno in school; trouble was, that had been just another boring class and this was for magnificent real. Another step closer.

The swirling skin patterns occupied more of his field of view now, making it harder to resist. He took the next step much quicker, the one after that followed almost immediately and then he was walking into Matt-Wan’s embrace.

‘I’m not gay, I’m not gay’ he thought to himself as he focused on Matt-Wan’s lips; lush inviting lips, so close, so kissable.

Matt-Wan exhaled in his face, breath smelling of rose blossoms tipping him over the edge, he lunged forward into a kiss that tasted of honey. He didn’t even notice the sting as Matt’s redesigned tongue inserted a rootlet.

The kiss ended. Sensing his mistress’s needs Carl-Wan turned around and presented his butt ready to receive her seed.

Matt-Wan grasped the submitting creature’s cheeks and parted them, easing her cock into the fertile compost hole. There was pain; for an instant his head cleared he was himself and not her.

The pain came again in his stomach, a need to clench his muscles and push down. Something moved inside him, ..the seed. His mind was in turmoil, pride at the thought of birth and a small desperate terror at the redesign of his guts that he remembered having instigated.

Then it hit him, giving birth to anything, even a seed, meant he was female. He shattered, the fragile recovery of self overwhelmed by the realization of her condition.

The next contraction pushed the seed into her cock sending orgasmic pleasure shooting through her. The seed was a hen-egg sized bulge making her cock look like a well fed snake, the next push would implant it in her soon to be daughter.

The orgasm came, she cried out as she reached new levels of ecstasy. A second later the creature’s grunt of pain transformed into her new daughter’s orgasmic cry as she instinctively flooded her host with pleasure.

She extracted her cock allowing her daughter to peacefully curl up on the floor and turned her attention to the creature Jame-wan.

“Your turn”

Halls of Light, Backstage

Mattoc and K’James looked grim, ...almost tearful, fortunately their make-up was waterproof.

K’annette glared at them, Klingon boys were pathetic...Boybanders it seemed were even more so.

“He’s no good like this” sniffed Mattoc “he’s not even trying”

“We’ll never win the tournament now.” added K’James “Those fucking Broken-Wans are gonna steal it from us.”

K’harlie sighed wistfully. Instead of practicing guitar he’d logged into the grid and downloaded Fleet personnel profiles, a hologram of Midshipman Garion Freeman rotated in front of him resplendent in his uniform body paint and a utility belt hung at a jaunty non-regulation angle. What a hunk.

K’Annette pulled her boyfriend around and gave him a hard shake. “Listen to me! Is that Fleet Fucker going to be more or less interested in you, if you and the boys win the contest?

“If you won’t win the contest for me, win it for him”

Her eyes were moist, must be hay fever, no way was she as feeble as the boybanders.

K’harlie seemed to brighten up and regain focus, the damn Fleeter really had his hooks into her boy.

“Sorry guys. I realize I’ve been a bit... distracted. Lets go win this thing” said K’harlie sounding like his old self.

Backstage, men’s washroom.

Looking in the mirror the owner of the globes focused on the next face he needed to wear, one that would get the final globe into K’shattered’s dressing room. Compared to the other fantasy faces this one wasn’t bad, if he ever ran into the owner of this face he’d just have to keep him.

The wild dark curly hair with its green roots, combined with the nakedness of Fleet Uniform was truely hot.

Picking up the globe he headed toward the last target. With all the boybands suitably prepared it wouldn’t matter who won the pathetic contest.

This time there would be no mistakes. This time there were no unreliable servants failing in their duty. When this was finished there would be only two sorts of people, him...and sex-obsessed fuck-toys.

Silver pushed the elevator button for the Gig level, It was just him and Garion now, the aptly named Fuck Pits had diverted the other three midshipmen.

They’d gone barely 20 metres before they’d been approached by the first of many potential fuck buddies. An open robed boy detaching himself from the shadows and offered Hamiltim a control disk, similar to the one their guide had had. Grinning hungrily Ham had placed the controller to his own forehead and followed his temporary master to whatever pleasures the night might hold. The entire zone was like the cruising rooms the better saunas had had back home.

Next to go was Sil, two floors further up. Three Naga caught his eye, the communication was by subtle hand movement and posture. Sil had apologized, but instinct required that he obey his elders. Having been a Naga for only a few days that meant he had to obey pretty much every other snakeboy he met.

Losing Kai had been a surprise. They’d been passing a particularly seedy looking Fuck Pit offering clones of every variety. Kai had stopped a surprised look on his face and then turned to face the pit entrance looking grim.

“One of my clone brothers is in there. The Old Master must have sold one of me on before I became aware. You guys had better get to the concert and see to the singer, I have to deal with this” said Kai dropping all pretence of being an air-headed clone.

They’d offered to help of course, but he’d insisted on dealing with this himself and pointed out that they still had a duty to the singer. Neither he nor Garion had mentioned the singer problem; as usual Kai’s deceptively sharp intellect had deduced the problem.

As with almost all elevators on Tattooine this one was set to high acceleration, within seconds he and Garion were up a further 30 floors. The doors opened onto what appeared to be open space, the only evidence that a floor existed were the people and the equipment laid out all over it.

On the far side of the empty space, crowds of eager fans were slowly filing in, clearly the gates had only just opened.

Closer at hand two bulky security guards dressed in traditional white plastic armor blocked their way.

“Security pass” demanded the guard

For a brief instant Silver was tempted to wiggle his fingers and say ‘You don’t need to see our security pass’ but he clamped down hard on the urge and just handed over the K’Shattered Band Pass.

The effect on the guard was quite surprising, on seeing the pass the guards made an effort to look tall and impressive.

“Welcome to Gig Level Gentlemen. If you will follow me I will take you to the K’Shattered dressing room.”

After they were safely out of earshot of the other guards their trooper turned his helmeted head to look Garion up and down.

“What?”

“With your permission, I have some advice”

“Uh..sure”

“That hot little Klingon K’harlie has been paging gate control every kanging ten minutes to see if his green and black haired boy has arrived yet.

“On behalf of us security troopers I want you to give that boybander real good shafting with that lightsabre of yours...make him sing falsetto”

Silver grinned at the emergent master’s intense blush, it was way past time Garion came to terms with his homosexuality.

As they crossed the floor the security trooper pointed out the various contending boybands, each group was setting up on a dish shaped platform, by the way at least one of the platforms was hovering it was clear that they were capable of flight and that the boybands would be hovering at different heights within the vast auditorium.

There was something odd about the boybands he noticed. Actually it was several odd things. Firstly, despite racial differences each set was facially similar. Each group had one member with bushy eyebrows and another with an off centre skunk stripe in his hair...it was almost as if they were clones, except that one group were clearly centaurs, another were Nagan and a third were multi-penised Cockers.

That was the first thing. The second odd thing was less tangible, something about the way they moved and the hungry lingering looks they gave their techs.

It reminded him of something, something from the Mind War, back when he’d been changed from a child called Peter into a numbered slave in the service of The Master. Trouble was, he didn’t remember much about the day of the war. Whatever was spooking him was likely to be one those things the healers had memory blocked afterwards.

He shivered and quickly pulled out his Slavemaker doing a quick check of its functions before returning it to its holster. Having the old weapon fully charged and operational was reassuring, like having his favorite teddy to hand when he’d been a rug-rat.

Fortunately the trooper hadn’t noticed the weapon, his back was to them as he pointed out the centaur boyband ‘Arrested Miscreants’. From the more detailed description it was clear the Trooper was backing the three stallions to win, even though they were only coming third on the public vote.

Only one disk was empty, K’Shattered hadn’t appeared yet. Silver wondered if that had anything to do with the lead singer’s newfound love for midshipmen; he hoped not, from overheard conversation if the local boyband didn’t show up soon they’d be disqualified.

Reaching the far side of the vast space they entered a more conventional white walled corridor.

“K’Shattered are in the fifth dressing room on the right” instructed their Trooper turning away.

Silver glanced at Garion “Remember, we’re here to put him back together how he was; not to get laid.”

Garion looked disappointed despite knowing it was the only fair thing to do.

Silver decided to relent a bit. “If he still wants you when he’s himself again go for it. You Ready?”

“I guess. Are you sure I did my ‘thing’ to him” said Garion gesturing with a finger in a circular motion next to his head. “It didn’t feel the same this time”

“It’s possible. But I think the difference is because this time you actively fancy the boy, where as last time it was just your pectoral obsessed sub-conscious getting frisky”

“Don’t remind me” shuddered Garion “My ancestor might have enjoyed fish-fucking but I’ll be happy if I never see another Lagooner.”

The dressing room door opened with the blink-of-an-eye speed that all auto-doors seemed to have on Tattooine.

Inside the room four boys and a muscular female stood naked and passive, facing a robed figure with his back to them holding something in his outstretched hand.

Not expecting visitors, the robed figure turned quickly to face them.

Silver experienced a moment of shock. The robed intruder was Garion. The same wild black and green hair, kiss-me lips, his perfect torso identical right down to the gill slits; an exact copy of the boy stood next to him.

The only difference was the eyes, the intellect behind them was...evil.. And familiar.

Silver found himself pulling his Slavemaker from its holster even as his mind gibbered ‘Not Talon, Not Talon, Not Talon’

The partially robed Garion swung his outstretched arm around so that the globe he held now pointed at the newcomers.

The thing in the globe strobed with light, Silver felt his mental shields toppling like dominoes. Inside his mind, blocked memories surged back.

For an instant he was back in New Orleans, he was called #30251 and he was trying to kill his best friend. Joe was Talon’s slave and therefore the Enemy. Joe had been turned into a hamadryad..and being a mere human slaves, #30251 and the other ex-high schoollers who formed #30251’s plattoon were massively outclassed. a Flower sprouting from Joe’s hand had strobed exactly like the globe that was currently trying to freeze him.

Using all his will-power Silver focused past the memory and fired his Slavemaker at the fake Garion. Even with the onslaught from the globe his aim was perfect, hitting the fake Garion straight in the eye...nothing happened.

“Really, shooting me with a weapon I designed? That hardly going to work now is it” said the Fake his voice dripping with contempt.

Silver’s guts turned to ice. Not Talon at all, far worse, it was The Master himself. It was the man who had first enslaved him; the one who had turned him from a free boy with a name into Slave with a number. Only Master Troy’s intervention had saved him and his home city from a nameless existence in this one’s service.

“What? No witty comeback? No desperate lunge?” gloated The Master, suddenly a look of suspicion crossed his handsome face. “But that’s it isn’t it, you know exactly who designed your weapon. You know who I am and know exactly how outclassed you are. As soon as I’m finished with these I think we shall have a nice long chat about how you know me...and how best you may serve.”

Silver knew the smell of deep shit and he was smelling it now, his only hope was a little trapdoor he’d placed in the hypnotism that suppressed Garion’s latent Masterism.

“Out sell Michael Jackson!” he snapped giving the code phrase that put Garion under his control. “Enslave them all!”

Garion blinked. He’d been surprised and confused, first by seeing himself already in the room and then by Silver’s reaction to the funny pot plant.

Silver’s last words snapped him out of it, his mind was suddenly clear. It was like waking up after being wrapped in cotton wool for days. His sex drive rocketed, he wanted some pleasure, he wanted it now! This roomful of fit young things would serve...and be glad to have done so.

Knowing what was about to happen Silver had time to create a canary persona, burying his real self deep and letting a weak simulation take the hit. A second later he turned away from The Master in order to tend Master Garion’s left nipple.

With his eyes locked on pectoral and tiny brown nub of erect nipple, his mind focused on serving his Master, He didn’t see fake Master clutch his head dropping his Hamadryad globe, he didn’t notice the boyband K’Shattered joining him in the tending of his Master’s orifices, the only thing he did notice was being pushed as someone barged past.

The shove had sent them to the floor, but that was ok as it allowed them to pleasure Master in other ways.

The orgy progressed until Silver felt Master’s hot cock filling his ass with a large dose of warm lubricating cum. A second later Master’s gift triggered his own release.

It was release in two ways, firstly his cum formed a ribbon of white on K’harlie’s coffee colored torso (the klingon was under him facing the other way so that he could rim his master, whilst his Master did Silver’s ass doggy style) and secondly the orgasm was a trigger for his real self to reassert control.

For a brief instant Slave Silver felt panic as a stronger persona swept him aside and then it was gone, He was back to normal and feeling the slight guilt he always did when a canary persona had to be killed.

Garion was still pumping his ass, it seemed the boy had a copious supply of cum to deliver and the slick lubrication of the first cumming was making the immanent second shot highly likely. He forced himself to pull his butt clear; Garion’s cock making a delightful <shloop> sound as it exited.

For a second it looked like Garion might object and ‘command’ him to get back down there, but before he could do so, the massive klingon girl slipped around and put Garion’s glistening cock where nature had originally intended.

Free of Garion’s sexual need, Silver glanced around, it was obvious that The fake Garion ...The Master... was long gone.

He’d only been in the evil bastard’s service for a short time, but he knew enough to understand that The Master hadn’t ‘fled’ he’d merely ‘withdrawn tactically’.

Picking up one of K’harlie’s thigh length stiletto healed boots he applied it to the wounded Hamadryad flower crushing it until all that remained was a green smear on the polished white floor. He’d have to get Dr Hidalgo to check them all for pollen later.

Cleaning up the cum dripping from his ass and getting back into his leathers occupied his hands whilst he tried to figure out what to do next.

The situation had changed; his life could no longer consist of a leisurely trek across the stars. Whilst several parts of him wanted to dive back in and assist the servicing of a new master, duty came first. Digging out his comm he opened a channel to the Blue Static.

“Ship’s Boy reporting. Request permission to speak to The Captain, there’s been an incident”

“I should’ve guessed you’d be involved Boy. With the other three Middies in it, you and Freeman had to be involved too” replied Swift’s irritated voice. He used the word ‘Boy’ harshly even though technically it was Silver’s rank

It dawned on Silver that there had been another incident. With a sinking feeling he recalled leaving Kai outside the dodgy looking Fuck Pit.

“Ah, No Sir. This is something else. I need to report a level ten threat to Protectorate Security and the sighting of a known criminal”

“Reducing background noise and patching you through” replied Swift suddenly businesslike.

Crew programming ensured that no one ever called an alert without good cause. In this case level ten required the Blue Static to undock and go to combat readiness.

Actually Swift was cutting him a break, Silver realized. It would be inappropriate for The Captain to hear Garion’s ongoing orgy as background noise.

The Captain mentally cursed the Fleet Shipyard designers for the lack of a sufficient multi-tasking ability. He could be in two places at once but not three.

It didn’t take much to deploy an AI controlled avatar to listen ‘carefully and sympathetically’ to the outraged toad of a club owner. The toad had connections, that was the only reason he wasn’t already under arrest for owning un-certified slaves. Allowing the man to complain was merely an opportunity to record any further self-incrimination.

Another Avatar was listening to Midshipman 534’s version of events. Normally he would have paid attention to one or other of these. But not now, not when the Ship’s Boy had ordered a level ten alert.

Switching off the Avatar that was questioning the Midshipman he materialized it on the Main Bridge next to the turbo-lift.

“Captain on the bridge!”

“At ease. Mr. S’Stev please take charge of the midshipman incident. Mr. Hart you have the Con take us to interdiction range and go to yellow alert. This is not a drill.

“Aye Sir”

“Aye Sir, breaking free of station, setting course to standard interdiction range”

Satisfied that the ship was being re-positioned in accordance with the level of alert he turned his attention to the Ship’s Boy detaching his avatar from the bridge.

The Fleet issue comm unit Boy Silver had been issued with normally worked as a basic long range sound sender, however at close orbital range its data flow could be increased enough to allow him to project himself into the environment the unit occupied.

As he had no idea whether the Ship’s Boy was in a public place the form he projected included a cloth uniform deep blue in color with gold brocade decorating the chest area. It was of a cut that an 18th century naval officer would have recognized as appropriate for ambassadorial functions.

The room he projected into was constructed of harsh white plastic quite typical of Tattooine’s ‘late Imperial’ style of construction. In a chair, sat the ship’s boy dressed in his favored knee length black leather trousers and a matching jacket, its front open to reveal his fit torso. He was hunched over as if recovering from some ordeal.

To his left, a lively orgy seemed to be in progress. The Captain was quite surprised to see that the normally shy and almost virginal Midshipman Freeman was the centre of attention.

“Normally I’d want you stood at parade rest before you reported, but I’ll skip that formality. Exactly why have I recalled the crew and brought my ship to battle readiness Boy?”

The Ship’s Boy glanced up taken by surprise by his materialization. “Sorry Sir, I presume you are familiar with the wars that gave rise to the First Master and the Protectorate?”

“As general history yes, given a few minutes I can upload more detailed knowledge.” replied The Captain, unsure of what ancient history had to do with anything.

“Ok, briefly, The First Mind War, three rival Masters competed for ownership of the people of New Orleans city. Troy Masterson was victorious and became First Master of Terra, Talon the sorcerer was killed, resurrected and killed a second time. The third protagonist, ‘The Master’, was enslaved and kept under close supervision.”

The Captain nodded, this was fairly basic history, nothing he needed to check up on, except that the Ship’s Boy had missed a couple of facts.

“Yes... And then he went missing during Talon’s assassination attempt against First Master Troy. What has this to do with anything?” asked The Captain

“Good, you know enough then. I called the alert because The Master is back. He’s wearing a different body sure; but it was definitely him.”

The Captain felt he weight of the world back on his shoulders. Clearly the otherwise competent Ship’s Boy was delusional and would need extended therapy.

“Obviously you think I’m insane. That would be my conclusion too given the data you have. I’m not though.” Silver admitted

“It does seem pretty far fetched. How would you know he was really this historical villain and not some insane person who just claimed he was?”

“Because I was there 1000 years ago.” sighed the Ship’s Boy in frustration. “If you review those records of yours you should be able to verify that. For now though it’s far more important that you do what’s required.”

“I think you had better return to the ship, let Dr Hidalgo have a...”

“Slave override: trapdoor majestic 12” interrupted Silver. It was a gamble; his Master had had a few key phrases programmed into his slaves so that he could regain control of them in an emergency. With luck those keys were still there.

The Captain stiffened in shock feeling his mental defenses open like a flower. It was like being back in basic training only more so. Right now, Silver could command him to do anything and that command would be set deeper into his mind even than his sense of self.

“Awaiting Orders Master.” He replied raising his eyebrow

“You will organize a hunt for ‘The Master’. 15 minutes ago he looked identical to Midshipman Freeman, although that was almost certainly a disguise.” instructed Silver.

The Captain’s image seemed to stand motionless for a moment, the mind animating it diverted into the giving of orders.

“It’s done” confirmed The Captain “So.. You are the original Silver. I have to admit, I thought you were a myth.”

Silver was impressed in spite of himself. The Captain had deduced the answer to his identity despite being in a state of near total obedience.

“End sequence: Area 51 and beyond” he ordered, removing the compulsion.

Since The Captain had figured out who he really was, there was no further reason to control him.

The Captain’s image rubbed its neck muscles as if Silver’s mental command had been a physical constraint.

“Actually the ‘End Sequence’ doesn’t work any more. Basically I and my ship belong to you now...permanently. Your Master was certain you’d return; even when no one else was. He decided to make sure that when you did show up, you’d get total cooperation with no way to countermand it.”

For Silver it was like a fresh wound, the feeling of loss, knowing his Master was long dead and that he’d still cared enough to set up such precautions. He forced himself to concentrate past it and grasp the implications of what The Captain had said.

“So all I need do is talk to Fleet HQ and I could get the entire fleet looking for that scum sucker?”

“Unfortunately you have to deliver the code in person, and as we’re the only Fleet vessel in port, you will have to make do with Blue Static.”

The noise from the orgy in the corner of the room got suddenly louder as Garion’s slaves began orgasming, causing both The Captain and Silver to glance in their direction.

“Is Freeman alright? He’s not usually this ...unrestrained.

“Garion has latent mental abilities similar to my Master’s, to drive The Master off I had to activate that talent. Unfortunately the mental backwash enslaved the boyband whose room this is. You’re going to have to make room for them aboard, ideally in the same cabin as Garion.”

The Captain nodded, this confirmed what he’d suspected, Freeman was definitely a Case Omega.

“I’ll make arrangements.”

“The one thing I don’t understand is why The Master would want to attack a boyband. Sure he liked to own pretty things, but its not adding up” said Silver.

“He was almost certainly trying to replace, hypnotize or kill Midshipman Freeman. Please don’t ask why I think that, the reply would have ...consequences.”

Silver nodded, it made sense; Garion was becoming a master...and it had been The Master’s intolerance of rivals that had kicked off the Mind Wars driving Talon into megalomanic retaliation.

Docking Bay 93, Mos Korath Spacedock

Matt-wan smiled waving to the loyal creatures as she walked toward the cruise liner Celeste’s VIP entryway. She wondered how loyal and happy they’d be after she and her daughters had sunk their roots into Earth’s rich soil.

The anticipation of that event made the self-restraint needed to not impregnate the liner’s entire compliment of creatures almost bearable...almost.