Alien Mine

Hi everyone. This chapter is a little late because my editor (wife) went on strike over the holidays, so any errors are mine. Just so you know Sandy and the girls all had a very very merry Christmas. I hope you enjoy this one chapter, and as always any comments or criticisms are appreciated.

Compliance -

1. the act of conforming, acquiescing, or yielding.

2. a tendency to yield readily to others, especially in a weak and subservient way.

Complying

-

1. obeying, obliging, or yielding, especially in a submissive way: a woman with a compliant nature.

Loyalty -

1. the state or quality of being

loyal

; faithfulness to commitments or obligations.

2. faithful adherence to a sovereign, government, leader, cause, etc.

Anita's body trembled as another wave of pleasure flowed through her, and thoughts faded into blissful fantasies as her gentle moans rose and fell with the rhythm of her body. Sandy smiled in satisfaction as the whimpering cries went on and on as she held Anita on the verge of a climax while whispering in her mind. Anita was surprisingly malleable in this state, even docile, but Sandy wasn't sure if her programming attempt would hold. This was much different than with Roy; there she had wielded a hammer forcing strong emotional responses to a simple set of inputs. This was much different, more subtle, but if successful, it would enhance Anita's response to suggestions and make her more susceptible to control. Still, Sandy was cautious, and the changes made were incremental. She had to strike a delicate balance, obedient and submissive, yet the vital core of Anita's personality must remain intact, or she would be unable to function in the role they had planned for her.

Rhys might be the 'One', but Sandy understood women, their desires, needs, and most of all, the craving for emotional fulfillment. Love certainly, but a woman such as herself and Anita needed more; their drive to achieve needed nurturing and reassurance. Rhys was in a hurry, rightly concerned with the disturbing things they had learned about the Om, but a creature such as Anita needed tender love and care to bring out the best, or at least Sandy's version of TLC. Rhys wanted her submissive so he wouldn't have to worry about a challenge, but Anita needed to be more than that. Sandy liked to think of it as willingly compliant, obedient, subservient and submissive, of course, but willingly so. That was the difference between a rock and a diamond, and Sandy wanted Anita to be a diamond, HER diamond.

Seducing Anita this evening had been easy at first; she couldn't resist the pheromones nor the physical pleasure to which she had become addicted. Though not yet sentient, the symbiont had already infected all of her cells, entwining itself into her DNA and leaving her unable to resist the subtle influences of the chemical cocktail Sandy provided. Anita had fought when Sandy led her into the bedroom and onto the bed she shared with her husband, but even that reluctance had been overcome. It had been a battle; Sandy had to admit. Anita had a surprisingly and frustratingly strong personality. Anita had pleaded with her, "anywhere, just not our bed, please," but Sandy kissed her passionately, letting the pheromones and Anita's rising heat break down her resistance. There were protests as her clothes were removed, but each one was smothered by kisses, and they became weaker and weaker. Then when she was naked and Sandy began gently stroking between her legs, Anita knew she had lost. Her breasts tightened even more, if that was possible, and the fingers she felt entering her made the erotic heat spiral out of control, the wet desire doubling, then tripling. "Please, Sandy," she murmured as her bones turned to liquid, allowing Sandy to press her down on her marriage bed. That part didn't matter anymore, only the heat between her thighs and the kisses that didn't stop.

When Anita had been helpless after a series of orgasms, Sandy used the strands of her hair to penetrate her mind and body in the most intimate way possible. And now Sandy sat astride Anita, slowly rubbing her clit against the soft rounded buttocks of the woman lying beneath her. Her hair invaded every orifice of Anita's body and brain, gently stimulating nerve endings as she whispered commands in Anita's ear and directly into her mind. Sandy was initially startled when she sent her hair snaking into the mind of the woman below her, seeking out the base emotions but instead encountering the immature symbiont, growing but far from sentient. Sandy had almost withdrawn in shock, but the symbiont responded to her, accepting her presence almost as if it recognized her. That made capturing Anita's mind simpler and opened many more possibilities.

Sandy's hair had penetrated Anita's spine in hundreds of places, each strand touching a nerve end that she could manipulate at will. Several thousand strands connected her to Anita's mind, and now to the symbiont, that was the jackpot, that was where Anita was most vulnerable. Hundreds more strands of hair snaked into Anita's pussy and clit, searching out nerve endings, letting Sandy discover precisely which ones to stimulate to achieve maximum pleasure. Sandy had not stopped there but had invaded her anus, mouth, throat, and breasts. Anita's body was no longer her own, thought Sandy with increasing arousal. Controlling her so intimately like this, the mind open and so pliable, touched something in Sandy, a need to control and dominate that excited her.

Sandy brought one hand up to run just under her nipples, her thumb and forefinger gently tweaking a nipple while the other snaked down across her belly and between her thighs. Sandy closed her eyes, her senses entirely on Anita and what she was feeling. She started to rock against Anita's firm buttocks, back and forth, as thumb and forefinger tugged at her nipple, and she bit her lip against the moan that wanted to escape. Her wetness spread across the flesh beneath as she invaded Anita's pliable mind, manipulating her subconscious into accepting the changes Sandy wanted while at the same time giving her small jolts of pleasure to reinforce them. Anita was docile now, unable to resist Sandy and ready to be trained and taught. The thought almost drove Sandy over the top, but she pushed down the impending orgasm.

Anita's cunt was soaking the sheets, and her hips strained again and again as if she was being penetrated by Rhys' cock. Sandy's whispering drove her thoughts into a tangled fantasy of being fucked while she licked her mistress' cunt. She could see it in the theater of her mind, Rhys behind her plunging his cock into her again and again, her face buried in Sandy's heavenly cunt, her tongue licking, teasing, trying to please. Words whispered in her brain, letting Anita know that pleasing Sandy was the most important thing in the world to her; compliance, loyalty, and obedience were key. "Anita loved Sandy," the voice told her, making her sex radiate heat, pulsing in anticipation. Anita had never, ever been this wet before in her entire life.

"You will keep seeking the high, the thrill that comes with submitting to Sandy. You will accept more and more subjugation and humiliation just to feel it again. Seeking to please Sandy, your Mistress will become your new normal, something you strive for every day." Sandy said out loud, enjoying the sound of the word Mistress. Sandy was aware that Rhys never went this far with the others, even Yaneta, but she couldn't seem to stop, didn't want to stop.

Anita moaned loudly as the words penetrated her mind, her body alive with ecstasy but unable to reach the top, held at the very peak by the woman sitting astride her. Her mind was focused on the pleasure and the words and thoughts pouring into her mind as if it was an empty bowl being filled by a stream of words and commands.

"There," Sandy said to herself as she made a few more adjustments to the mind that was bare to her. "That should do it." Sandy could feel Rhys in her mind; he was in Israel fucking Mika. Mika and then Rhys climaxed, and the sudden energy rush took away her control and swept her up into the maelstrom of mutual orgasmic bliss. Sandy fed the climax into Anita. "Cum now," Sandy commanded as her eyes rolled back into her head. "Fuck, Yes," she moaned. "Yes... yesss..." She was melting, her entire body pulsing with the climax —Anita joining her, cumming, cumming, aaahhhh. Sandy's scream held a note of exaltation as the orgasm tore through both of them, and she felt Anita's body squirm underneath, her soft cries only adding to Sandy's excitement.

Her hair slowly withdrew from Anita's unconscious body, and Sandy rolled off, laying on her side. She would let Anita sleep for a while before waking her to make love again and reinforce the changes she had made. "Willingly compliant," Sandy thought to herself; God, it had made her so hot.

***

The Om collective mind would be unhappy or dissatisfied if it were capable of anything humans could recognize as emotions. The loss of a nest-mother was an unfortunate setback to the plans, there were only five of them left, and all had been rescued from the large nest that had been crippled by the Drans vessel. Despite the loss, a home nest was firmly established, and four more daughter nests continued to grow.

The Drans warriors had been more effective than the collective mind had anticipated, and that had led to overconfidence. It would not make that mistake again. New strategies were being developed to deal with the increasingly dangerous foe, but it was frustrating to be so limited. Efforts were underway to increase the technology base, but a lack of resources limited them. Moreover, losing the two small nest ships to the Drans crippled its ability to produce superior weapons. The Om collective was satisfied that it had been able to incorporate the organic life on this planet into the necessary fighting machines, but it was a slow process.

The Om had successfully subordinated part of this primitive food species to fight for it, ensuring their elimination as the primary predator. However, with the loss of a nest-mother it was time for their slaves to play a more active role in the destruction of this troubling civilization and the small group of Drans warriors. Orders had gone out, and preparations were underway.

***

Mika sat in the weekly Ministers' meeting, listening to the other members of the cabinet drone on about their latest issues and trying to feign interest in what they were saying. One of the problems of being enhanced was that she found ordinary humans dull for the most part; they could not keep up with her swift intellect. However, she understood the problems they were going on about and had already decided what to do about them after she became Prime Minister. Sighing, she let her mind drift to Nelya, where Rhys was today, and smiled inwardly at the thought of how the current group of ministers would react if she imitated Nelya and just ripped the heart out of one of them. Best not to go there, she thought with a sigh. That was the danger of creating a group of enhanced humans; they started thinking of themselves above the rest. It was a dangerous path to take. She thought Rhys' idea of moving to the outer solar system was a good one.

Instead, she checked her drones scattered about the building and government offices. She knew Michael had men monitoring them as well, but after the revelations from Moscow, everyone was being more careful, paranoid even. Michael would say that paranoia was good; it kept you alive, and Mika agreed. With Thea's help, they were getting drones in place around the border of China, but of particular concern were the countries in an arc to the west of China, the 'Stan" countries; Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan, Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan, Turkmenistan, Afghanistan, and Pakistan. They had already located the Om enclaves in Kazakhstan and Iran but had not seen any activity in the others. Michael closely monitored Egypt, Jorden, Iraq, and Syria, but Iran was more difficult. Of course, the Iranian regime was a concern, and there was a lively debate within MOSSAD about the need for action. Some thought the Om and the religious fanatics were incompatible, but others were sure the lure of weapons and technology would tempt the Supreme Leader. Mika had discussed it at length with Rhys, and they were leaning toward some timely deaths. The tiny drones were in place; they could decapitate the leadership with one command.

Mika warmed at the thought of Rhys and last night. He had brought Nelya, whom she had not met, Leslie and Amancia. Nelya was young and beautiful and as strong a person as she had been told. Looking into her eyes, Mika could see the steel behind her gaze, a ruthlessness but complete loyalty to Rhys. It was easy to imagine this young woman ripping the heart out of an adversary. Mika had seen the images. It had shocked her at first, but she recognized the compelling message it sent, and her admiration for Nelya had only grown. And, smiling to herself, Nelya was wickedly good in bed, Mika thought, feeling the warmth spread through her body. She wished they were still with her, but in the meantime, thinking about pulling out her monoblades and chopping that obnoxious asshole who was talking into little pieces would have to do.

Her thoughts of mayhem were interrupted by a call from Michael. Mika's tac-grid was fully functional, and she answered the call without even pausing her discussion over the signs of inflation that had the Prime Minister worried. She and Amancia had that under control, and the slight increase was good for the economy, but she could hardly tell him that.

"Hello, Michael," she said through the tac-grid.

"Hello, Mika; sorry to bother you, but a few issues have come up. The good news is the first fifty men left with Rhys this morning though I'm sure you know that. The pilots will be harder; we don't have enough that they won't be missed. Their absence will leak back to my counterparts in the armed forces and then to the Prime Minister. I can probably get you ten, but even that runs a risk," Michael warned.

Mika thought for a moment. "I will talk to the defense minister after the meeting; he is just now receiving a request from the US to participate in a training exercise for advanced aircraft," Mika said. "Now, what is the bad news?"

"Have you been tracking drone feeds from Iran? There is increasing activity in the Lut Desert area; the impact area is growing slowly, but still, it's like they are absorbing the desert, if that is possible. There are reports of people disappearing in the area, but even worse, the prison population is shrinking."

"Do you think they are feeding prisoners to the Om?"

"Yes," Michael replied, "I do," he added grimly.

Mika thought about what it would be like to be one of those prisoners, beaten and tortured first by the secret police, then handed over to the Om, placed into one of those cells, and then slowly changed into an alien monster. "Nothing we can do right now," she said regretfully, "but make sure Rhys and Leslie know about it, and let's see if we can find who is authorizing this. They need to be on our termination list for sure." The Om there was a particular concern for Israel; the last thing they needed was the religious fanatics working with aliens, especially if they got their hands on new technology. Moreover, the base was mainly complete in the Negev, and Michael was moving men into it. The defenses were automated for now and would protect the surrounding area from anything launched their way. Still, they couldn't possibly control every inch of the borders, especially if the centipedes simply came in from underground. "Michael, how long can we keep this base secret? We can't have word get out?"

Michael hesitated a second before answering. "I don't know," he admitted. I am manning it with MOSSAD people right now, but this is a military operation; the sooner we can hand it over to defense, the better."

"I need two months," Mika said; the election will be over then, and Rhys will be ready to strike."

"I'll do my best, but no promises," Michael said.

Mika smiled at the Prime Minister and began her own report. The man was decent, but he couldn't be allowed to stay; her ambitions were clear, and elections would take place next month. Mika intended to be sitting in his chair when it was over, and very few people in the room would be there in her government.

***

Yaneta stood and stretched languorously, her large breasts lifting as her arms stretched over her head. She held that pose for a second, enjoying the feel of her still-changing body. She thought Voluptuous was an excellent description, or deliciously curved and exceptionally flexible and sensuous was another; the President had repeatedly said so last night. Unfortunately, he was still part of her duties, but the Binary wanted her close to him for a while, and she couldn't tell him no. Women did not refuse the President; unfortunately, he had become besotted with her lately for good reasons. Yaneta ran her hands over her breasts, cupping them and tugging at her nipples. Rhys had given her fantastic breasts, large rounded globes with long nipples that pointed slightly upward, a slim waist (getting slimmer) encased in the corset the Binary commanded her to wear, and long slim legs. The features of her face had softened, the lips becoming puffy, giving her mouth a slight pout with a small cupid bow on the top lip. When men were not looking at her breasts, they would focus on her lips, no doubt imagining how they would like to use them. However, when she was naked, their eyes were drawn to the juncture between her legs by the ring positioned just over her clit with the small glittering jewel dangling from it.

She was irresistible, Yaneta agreed, but her talents were wasted on the President; he was getting older, and his performance in the bedroom had fallen considerably. Stress probably had something to do with it, and without his pills, there would be no fucking for him anymore. Yaneta knew that all the straight men in the Kremlin wanted her now; there would be a line at the door if they weren't afraid of the President. The Binary told her it was because she now "reeked of sex," and men and women responded to it. Her body now constantly gave off small amounts of pheromones, affecting all those around her.

However, it was more than that. Rhys thought she was also lightly touching the emotions of those around her as well, "projecting" her arousal. The push was lite, more of a suggestion, and it wasn't something she had control over; but it seemed she was projecting her own constant simmering arousal. It made sitting in a restaurant trying with the waiters constantly flirting with her, but it also made everyone underestimate her. Take that asshole, Pavel; he wanted her but thought she was just some whore and would never suspect Yaneta was the most dangerous person in a room. Likewise, men tended to dismiss her and talk about things in her presence they usually wouldn't. Pavel's days were numbered; he just didn't know it. The President was using him to reach out to the Chinese and the Om, and when Rhys or the Binary gave the word, he was dead. Yaneta hadn't decided yet if his death would be fast or slow; it had been one of the things she thought about while fucking the president last night, savoring the thought of Pavel's death. All the same, she hadn't let it affect her performance which had been award-winning as per the Binary's orders.