Alicia was off for the weekend, but her roommate Taffy was working the floor. Taffy was that co-worker of Erin’s I’d mentioned earlier: she’d stripped her way through nursing school, and eventually became Alicia’s roommate to help her with the emancipation. They graduated from nursing school together—it was one of the last events Erin and I attended as a couple—but I got the impression from her she’d stay at the Audubon, supplementing her income. She thought it was fun, the stripping. She always reminded me of that song, “A Little Respect,” which was her signature song at the Audubon.
The last time I’d seen Taffy, she had her hair dyed a brilliant pink. But when she showed up for work, she was blonde.
“Aww,” I asked. “Where’d the pink go?”
She giggled. “It’s still here. They just don’t let me show off at work.” Leaning closer (and giving me a glimpse of her ample bosom, which was barely stopped from spilling out of her uniform), she whispered, “It’s a wig. Need to keep a professional appearance, and all that jazz.” She winked, and gave me a conspiratorial smile.
The other nurse on the floor was Amy Hoang. She was Vietnamese, still spoke with an accent. She didn’t bleed sexuality like Taffy, but she was attractive. She reminded me of Grace Park, that cylon from Battlestar Galactica. Unlike Taffy, she kept her uniform butted up to her neck.
Zoners
Chapter 10: Aftermath
Phoenix: Hospital—Saturday Morning
“Alicia told me you’d be here, Eric,” Taffy said while they were bringing me my morning meds. “But I can’t believe it.” She shook her head. “Brain tumor, huh?” I just nodded.
“You two know each other?” Amy asked.
“Yeah,” I said. “Taffy worked with my last ex.”
“Ooh,” Amy said. “A dancer?” She gave me a look like most women did when they found out I’d dated a stripper—one that asked “How did someone like you get a girl like that?”—and I just nodded, wearily. I’d answered that skeptical face too many times.
The tunnel vision started, as did the stabbing pain in my groin, and I started shaking again. “Ow!” I doubled over. It was the worst one yet.
Taffy gave me a dirty look, looking angry. “So, does that mean we’re your slaves now? I know what Erin said.” She rubbed her temples. “Fuck, my head hurts.”
Amy looked bewildered. “Slaves?”
I looked between them. Amy had glassy eyes. Taffy didn’t. Now, by this point I was getting very confused—I’d found three women, each immune to me, all of them women I’d known in my earlier life. But not everyone from my former life was immune—Alicia fell under my spell. So, what the hell? Whatever, I figured. I wouldn’t need to worry about it after the surgery. How simple life seemed, then.
Still, I didn’t want to say anything while Amy was all zoned. So, I just sat there silently.
“Are you going to say something?” That was Taffy. “Or are you just going to sit there like a mute little idiot?” Wow, the formerly friendly female was getting belligerent. This was really out of character for her. I started noticing another pattern.
Rolling my eyes, I gave in. “No,” I said. “You’re not my slave, Taffy.” Then I turned to Amy. “But you are.”
Amy looked taken aback. “I am?” Then her features shifted. “I am.” She looked like she meant it. She nodded, decisively.
Taffy stared at Amy, then at me, then back at Amy. “Really?” She sounded skeptical.
Amy nodded. “Yes,” she said. “I believe I am.” The glassy look left her eyes.
Taffy snorted. “Uh-huh. Yeah.” She looked me up and down. “You could barely hang on to Erin.”
I coughed. “Um, I left Erin.” I shook my head in disbelief. “Remember? You spent almost a month consoling her.” It was a bad month, after our break-up. “And what’s with all the hostility?”
She made a face. “Oh, I don’t know.” She shook her head, clearing it. “I have no idea what came over me.” She giggled. “Sorry?” It was amazing how quickly the rancor drained from her face. She ruffled my hair. “Guess I’m PMSing or something.”
There’s not much to do when you’re hanging around a hospital for a weekend. I could chat with the nurses, I could watch TV, or I could sleep. After checking out what the Saturday Morning Cartoon line-up was, I decided to sleep through lunch.
Phoenix: Hospital—Saturday Midday
I was in Boston, on a small stretch of land called Carson Beach. I wasn’t sure how I knew that, but I did. The sun was setting over the city to the west—strange for me, since I was used to the west coast, where the sun set on the beach. There was a picnic blanket laid on the sand; I had a weird feeling I belonged there, so I sat down and waited.
Diana walked up to the blanket, holding hands with a boy, a swarthy guy that reminded me of Tunis. She was wearing a bikini, he was wearing shorts, a t-shirt, and sunglasses. She seemed startled to see me on the picnic blanket, and turned to the boy. “Dennis? I think you should go.” And then, without a word, he was gone. Vanished into thin air.
Diana sat down on the blanket. “Eric? What are you doing here?”
“I don’t know.”
“Am I dreaming?”
“I think so.” I shrugged. “Either that, or I am.”
“Is it really you?” She reached out to touch my face. “I can’t believe it.” A tear trickled down her face. “I’ve missed you. We all have.” She smiled. “Eddie got back today. Ingrid was so happy she creamed herself.”
I laughed at that mental picture. “I can’t imagine them as a couple. Hell, I can’t imagine Eddie getting serious with anyone.”
“I’ve got a more unlikely one for you,” she said, blushing. “Me and Shelly.”
My jaw dropped. This was getting surreal. “No way.” Obviously, I felt, I was dreaming now. I’d wandered out of reality.
She was still blushing. “Yeah.” She looked at me. “Hey, we miss you. And you left us all full of sexual frustration. At least we can take them out on each other.” She winked, then ran her hand through her hair. “Fuck, I must miss you. Why would I be dreaming this?” Shaking her head, she added. “I wish I knew what was going on with you.”
“It’s a tumor,” I said. “I’m having brain surgery on Monday.”
The blood drained from her face. “Surgery? Oh no, Eric.” She leaned over and pulled me into an embrace. “You better get through this.”
I leaned in and gave her a kiss. “I will,” I smiled. “I’ve got that raincheck.” She snuggled in, closer to me. I reached up and undid the top of her bikini, and helped her down on the blanket. Slipping my thumbs underneath her bikini bottom, I slid it down her legs. She shivered, and gave a little ecstatic squeal, and leaned back, opening herself up to me.
“Oh, fuck, Eric,” she said, looking up at me. “You have no idea how much I’ve been wanting this.”
I climbed on top of her, and gave her another kiss. “Me, too.” I started kissing down her body, her neck, her chest, her belly. Meanwhile, one hand started caressing her chest while another reached inside her. She squirmed, making happy noises. The beach faded away—we were floating in the darkness, surrounded by stars. I took that to be a sign, and withdrew my hand, thrusting into her. She moaned with pleasure.
“Ah, Diana!” I cried out as I came in her. As it was a dream, she also came with me.
Then we collapsed into one another. She looked at me with wonder in her eyes. “You called me ‘Diana’.”
“Um, yeah.” I smiled, a bit puzzled. “That is your name.”
She gave me a playful punch in the shoulder. “No, silly. I mean, you didn’t say ‘Dee.’ You said ‘Diana.’” She pulled me close to her and gave me a long, deep kiss. Apparently, I’d done something right. “Eric, I...”
Then she started fading away. “No!” I reached after her. But it was too late.
Phoenix: Hospital—Saturday Afternoon
I woke up to Amy’s face. Her mouth was in the shape of an ‘O’. “How did you do that?”
I had no idea what she was talking about. “Do what?”
“I was just in here, checking your lines, and then all of a sudden,” she blushed. “I felt a jolt of pleasure in my flower. Eventually,” she continued, shyly, “I blossomed.”
“You mean you came?” Apparently, I had also—the erection from the earlier seizure had gone away. My first “wet” dream since high school.
She made a face. “I hate that word. So vulgar.” Then she nodded, still blushing. “But, yes, anh.” She gave a little bow. “Thank you.”
“Um,” I said. “You’re welcome.”
“Is there anything I can do for you?”
I shook my head. “I don’t think so.” I shrugged. “I guess you could finish checking my lines, or whatever?”
“Of course,” she said. She reached over me to fiddle with the tangle of IVs. I got her chest shoved right in my face. I thought to myself how nice it would be if she just unbuttoned a few buttons. Then I felt this pressure in my head, followed by a release. It gave me a sense of deja vu.
Amy broke away, standing up. “I feel strangled,” she said. She buttoned her uniform about halfway down. A little peek of a black, lacy bra. “There. That’s better.” She saw my eye line. “I see it pleases you, too, anh.”
Then there was a shy little knock at the door. “I will answer that.” Amy walked decisively over to the door and opened it.
Erin was standing there. She was dressed normally—of course, normal for Erin was a scooped neck tank top, and a short black skirt. She pulled a white handkerchief out from her ample cleavage and waved it. “Hi, honey,” she said, looking sheepish. “Truce?”
I sighed, and smiled. “Yeah, angel.” I looked at Amy. “Can we maybe get a little privacy?”
She gave a little bow and said, “Yes, anh.” She left and closed the door.
Erin turned to me after watching her leave. “Oh my God. You took her, too?!”
“Not my fault.” I shook my head. “My doctor, too, kinda.” I blushed a little. “But it looks like Taffy’s immune.”
Erin turned to me, eyes wide. “Really?” She sat down on the bed. “So it’s not just me?”
I shrugged. “Looks like it. Taffy and Jordan both.” I mused. “But it worked on Alicia.”
“Wait. Taffy and your sister?”
I nodded. “Well, yeah.”
“Are you sure?”
“Just those two. Not that I’ve been going out and wandering the streets.”
Erin looked a little guilty. “Really?”
I leaned forward. “You’re not telling me something.” I was suspicious. “You think there’s a link?”
She blushed. “Um, yeah? I think so.” I just looked at her until she spilled. “You know the Goose Egg?” It was a bar and grill near the Audubon, we’d gone there a few times. I nodded. “Well, I found out they have a hypnotist on First Fridays. ‘Demetrius’ or something. He’s good,” she shook her head. “Knows a lot of his stuff. Pulled me, Taffy and your sister all up on stage.” She sighed. “After, he came up to each of us, said he thought we were good subjects. Was flirting and all that, kind of a player. Sleazy, you know?” Tilting her head in thought, she added. “Tried to trigger me under, but it didn’t work.” She gasped. “Or maybe he just made me THINK it didn’t work. He talked to each of us separately. Taffy and your sister both kinda have a crush on him—they said they gave him their number. Maybe he did something to us?”
“Maybe,” I frowned. After all, not everyone who has these powers are going to have seizures like mine. Still, what could I do about it? Surgery was coming up Monday, and it’s not like I could control what was happening. “But what can we do about it?”
“But, but... Well...” She flustered. “Stop him!”
“How? Why?”
“Obviously he’s the bad guy!”
I laughed. “Maybe he isn’t. Maybe he’s not so bad.” I shrugged. “Maybe he’s like me. Or maybe it’s a coincidence.”
She frowned. “Maybe...” Clearly, she didn’t like this idea.
“Look, after my surgery this,” I waved my hand in the air, “this is all done with. I’ll probably be in the hospital for a few weeks. So, what can I really do?”
“Well, uh,” she said. “What if it doesn’t go away?” She looked at me, tenderly. “I think this is a part of you, now.”
I groaned. “Fuck, I hope not.”
“I always sensed you had some kind of power,” Erin said. “Remember?”
I remembered rolling my eyes at her New Age ramblings, back when we were dating. But after this past week, I regretted tuning her out. “Not really,” I said. “Whenever you talked about ‘sensing’ something my mind wandered.” I shrugged. What, I was going to take her seriously when she talked about auras and dreams and ‘sensing’ things?
“Idiot,” she said, sticking her tongue out at me. “Well, I sensed something.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. It’s not exactly specific.” She shrugged. “It’s just... you have a lot of power. You always have. That’s what attracted me to you.” She took my hand. “You’re the good guy, Eric. And this ‘Demetrius’ guy is a sleazeball.”
“Thanks, angel.” I sighed. “I guess.” I slumped into my bed.
She leaned in and kissed my forehead. “You’re welcome, honey.” Then she mused. “If there’s you, and Demetrius, I wonder if there’s other people out there with powers.” She laid down, snuggling up to me. “I’ll bet there are.”
I thought about Elise, and her business card, and how I could hear what happened through the phone, while Edward couldn’t. “Yeah. I think you’re right.”
Phoenix: Hospital—Sunday Morning
Family visited again the next morning. It was a quick visit—Antonio needed to get back to work the next day, so was preparing for the long drive back out to Los Angeles. Jordan had also ‘liberated’ my laptop from my house, so I was able to connect to the ‘net for the first time in forever (there was an Internet café© in the student housing in Naples, but I was too busy exploring Italy to care about email).
Jordan hang behind after my dad and Antonio left, chatting with Taffy, whispering and giggling like high school girls. I had a feeling I knew what they were talking about. “Hey,” I said to them, “Erin told me she dragged you guys to an awesome hypnosis show the other day?”
They looked at each other and started giggling again. “Yeah,” Jordan said, blushing. “It was neat.”
“So, tell me about it.”
Taffy giggled. “Well, it definitely wasn’t PG-13.” Jordan was still blushing. “Right, Hel?”
“Um,” Jordan stammered. “Yeah.”
“And the hypnotist guy?” Taffy fanned herself. “Hot-tie!” Jordan nodded shyly, beside her.
“Well, I guess I know what kind of guy is the ‘controlling sort,’” I said, sticking my tongue out at Jordan. “Am I right?”
I had to laugh as I flustered Jordan. “Yeah.” She was blushing, and I swear I could see her nipples poking through her shirt. I tried not to stare—I mean, she was my sister. But she caught me staring, and gave a strange little smile, and started running her finger along them. It was weird, like she was flirting with me, or at least showing herself off. What the hell did he do to her? A shiver ran down my spine. Maybe Erin was right about the guy.
“You should come to a show, Eric.” That was Taffy. Jordan looked mortified at the idea.
“Maybe,” I agreed. I figured needling Jordan about her new crush would be fun, assuming that’s all it was. “First Fridays, right?” That gave me almost a month to tease Jordan about it, feel her out about the guy. “Assuming I’m up to it after the surgery.” I decided it’d probably be best to check this new guy out, see if he was really the slimeball Erin thought he was, or if this was all just one huge, unforeseen side effect (I thought of Marissa, and Richelle, and Jessica and Olivia). Not that Jordan’s choices of boyfriends had been stellar in the past.
Taffy waved a hand dismissively. “You will be. They usually let people go home after a week.” That was shorter than I’d expected.
Jordan asked, “Seriously?”
“Well, um, yeah.” Taffy shrugged. “It’s just brain surgery.”
“Just brain surgery, huh?” I laughed. “Guess that means I’ll be there.” At least I’d have had some time to recover before I scope out the situation.
Jordan also laughed, a little nervously, then she bent down and gave me a kiss on the forehead. “Well, campione, I gotta run. Work calls. Those pizzas aren’t going to serve themselves.”
I rolled my eyes at her. “When are you going to finish school?”
She just gave me a dirty look, snorted indignantly, and flounced on out of there.
Phoenix: Hospital—Sunday Midday
Once I’d shooed Taffy out of the room, I got online. Opening up my email, I saw I had a quagmire of unread mails waiting for me. Putting that aside, I trawled my contact list and sent out a huge message to my friends, letting them know where I was, and what the hell was going on. Then I copied the message to my blogs and other websites—including my business’ site.
After that, I ran a spam catcher over my inbox, and watched as thousands of emails plummeted to mere hundreds. Then I went through the remains. There were emails from my... ‘harem’ I guess you can call it, I’d gotten used to the word by then. They all missed me (especially Marissa, who decided to express her yearning in explicit photographs), but it was an email from Diana that really stood out to me.
She said she’d dreamed of me. When she went on to describe it—it was almost identical to the dream I’d had about her. The beach, the sex, the stars... I was ready to write it off as coincidence until I read an email from Richelle the previous day, which read like one of those “Dear Penthouse” letters, where she confessed to doing all sorts of wicked things with Diana—and two from Edward and Ingrid, mentioning their reunion.
Both Edward and Ingrid mentioned they were having complications with the whole trance thing, so I shot off some quick emails with some advice (not that I was an expert, really). I think he was falling for her; I know she was falling for him. I also shot off an email to Diana, telling her I’d had the same dream, but I wasn’t counting it as the raincheck. Sure, the sex in the dream was great, but nothing compares to reality.
I wasn’t sure what to say to Marissa, so I started an email to Richelle, detailing the naughtiness on the plane, and what had happened with Erin. I didn’t have nearly as much to say as she did—but then, she was in Italy, and I was in a hospital bed. So I didn’t feel so bad. Then I opened up an email addressed to all of them, letting them know I was home safely, about my diagnosis, and describing what I’d learned about this Demetrius fellow. I warned them to keep their eyes open, since probably he wasn’t the only (evil) mind controller in the world.
While I was working on that email, my ‘new mail’ indicator lit up. The email was from a French address. The subject line was simply “need some1 2 take care of u?” It had an attachment, too. I almost deleted it as spam, but I accidentally hit ‘open’ instead of ‘delete.’ The first thing I saw was a photograph—I recognized the two girls in the picture.
Monsieur,We are twin teenaged girls from France. We found ur business card in our stuff. This is the first time we looked u up. But we cannot remember u!! :( :( :( We read ur ‘news’ on ur site just now—sad to hear u r sick! And surgery 2! :( :( :( U need some1 2 take care of u!
We think we met u in Tunisia, or on the boat 2 there from Naples? We r on a trip around the world. Soon, we will be in America. Do u think u might like some hot girls 2 nurse u back 2 health? We will do anything u ask. We both think ur cute. A piccie of us is attached to the email; we hope u want 2 have us. We will c u soon!!!
Ur slaves,—Yvonne and YvetteXOXOXOXO
“Shit shit shit,” I said. I’d thought—hoped—I’d cleaned that mess up. But telling them to forget me only had them forget what happened, everything else apparently stuck—including their being my slaves. And I’d been sloppy—left behind my card. Of course, I ran my business out of my garage, so my home address was on the site. They’d be able to track me down.
Thinking of them made me think of Sonia. I set the laptop aside and staggered out of bed, dragging my IV pole, heading to my bag. I pulled out the little stack of business cards I’d collected. I found Rami’s—but all he had was a local number in Tunis. No website, no email. I grumbled, and set that one aside. Then I saw the ILYSKN card—and that one did have an email address, at least one for Elise. I grabbed that card and hobbled back to the bed.
First, I finished my email to the girls, attaching the picture of the twins and explaining more about that situation. Then, I emailed the twins, thanking them for their concern and telling them they didn’t need to come play nursemaid. After that, it was time to go spelunking through the tubes of the Internet.
I tried to google “ILYSKN.” That brought me to the website implied by Elise’s email domain. It was a bunch of sleekly designed pages full of empty business-speak, meaningless jargon. It was a consultancy company, as best I could tell. They had a presence on every continent. Whatever they were, they wanted to offer their services as broadly as possible. I grabbed their hospital phone and tried their U.S. number, but the same thing happened as before, a piercing racket in my head. It felt like my ears were going to bleed, but I could swear I heard murmuring, mumbling, but not in any language that made sense. I also felt that same pressure I felt earlier, when Amy unbuttoned her top. It went away when I hung up—but there was no feeling of release, just abandonment.
By this point, I was convinced Elise wasn’t flirting with me when she gave me that card. Clearly, there was something more to it. I wondered if ‘Demetrius’ had been given a similar card, by someone. Or maybe he was already involved with them. Let’s just say I was wary. My email to her was abrupt and perfunctory, a simple question of why she’d given me her card. I figured I wouldn’t hear from her until after my surgery.
Phoenix: Hospital—Sunday Afternoon
It was late. Taffy and Amy were clocking out for the day, passing on responsibility to the night nurses. After she’d changed into her street clothes (blouse buttoned to her neck, tight jeans), Amy came to my room.
“Anh?” She unbuttoned the first button on her blouse.
“Yes, Amy?”
“You have other slaves, don’t you?” Another button.
“I think so.” I thought about the Evies, and Richelle. “Yes.”
“Oh.” She sounded disappointed. “Do I please you as much as they do?”
“Why would you even ask that?”
She looked down. “I see you looking at Taffy. I know you like ample chests. And mine is not quite so ample.” A third button. Today was a lacy bra again, but red instead of black.
She was right—hers wasn’t very ample. But it suited her frame. I sighed. “Would I like you to have larger breasts? Sure, if I had a magic wand, I could wave it and they’d expand. But I wouldn’t ask you to go and get them.” I shrugged. “Yours are great for your body. I mean, as you noticed, I enjoyed it when you unbuttoned your top. Right?”
She made a little bow. “Thank you, anh. Is there anything I can do to please you now?”
I know it’s wrong, but the subservience in that question started arousing me. I looked at Amy, considering her. I thought about how nice it would be to get a blow job—I hadn’t had one since the airplane. And I really hadn’t gotten a normal one since the twins (okay, a threesome is far from normal, but it didn’t involve a ‘seizurection,’ as I’d started calling the persistent tumescence that came after my episodes).
I felt that pressure build in my mind again, then release. Then she smiled at me. “I think I know.” She licked her lips, then pulled the sheets off me, and crawled under my gown. I was already hard, so soon I felt her warm lips engulf me, and her warm, wet mouth welcome me in. Her tongue ran along my shaft—she was caressing my cock with her tongue. I twined my fingers through her hair, pushing her down between my legs. She started gagging, just a little, so I stopped pushing, and just started stroking her hair, running my fingers through it. She hummed, happily, and I exploded in her mouth. She kept suckling until she was sure she got it all.
After that, she slid up, laying her head on my shoulder. “Are you pleased, anh?”
“I am.” I kissed the top of her head. “Did you cum?”
She looked up at me. “No, ahn. Was I supposed to?”
“I don’t know,” I answered. I thought back over the ‘magic penis’ effect—all the transmissions happened during the seizurections, at least all the ones I’d heard about. Of course, I’d spent almost the entire time since the episodes started erect in one fashion or another. “Thank you for telling me.”
She snuggled in closer. “It is okay I did not, ahn.” Nuzzling me, she added. “That was for your pleasure, not mine.”
Man, did that cut my heart like a knife. “Um, thank you, Amy. But I like you having pleasure too.”
“Oh, no, ahn. Don’t trouble yourself.” She got up out of the bed. “My family is waiting for me. You try to sleep. You have surgery in the morning.” And with that, she strode out the door, almost imperiously.