(An alien invasion story)
A new dawn
Nathan Freeman has been floating around within an unexplainable dream for quite some time; half asleep and yet half awake, merely drifting along in a fog of peaceful tranquility. He’s uncertain of who he is or even where he’d been taken, but it sure felt nice being there. …Totally lost. …No responsibilities. …No pressures. …Just simply being.
There was no tangible sense of time in this new world either; one second might feel like a couple of minutes, while a few hours could seem like several months…Or was it years?
-The boy couldn’t tell.
And there remained this constant perception of some sort of alternate reality just beyond his reach. Like a former life with beliefs and memories that should seem so vivid, yet they became merely fleeting moments when he tried to concentrate on any single one of them. And the more the boy struggled to make sense of any of this, the even more disconnected he becomes…
Nathan attempts a sigh, but it requires too much effort. It feels a whole lot better just to simply be…
… And then a voice softly whispers from somewhere deep within his head:
Time to awaken.
The tone of the voice is deep and smooth, yet identifiably feminine. It seems to be deeply rooted within his psyche and is as hauntingly familiar to him as it is unexplainable; like some relaxing foreign presence that seems to linger on long after its words have been spoken.
Nathan feels a tingle at the back of his neck and attempts to open his eyes, only to find that they’re already open. His vision is blurry and his eyes burn as if they’ve been left open for far too long. The boy tries to raise his hands to rub the irritation away, but his limbs refuse to move. For whatever reason, his body seems to be experiencing a state of total paralysis. All the teenager can do is blink his eyes repeatedly, until his environment gradually comes back into focus. He begins to slowly realize that all is still. And there is an ashen, all-consuming glow that seems to encompass him and his surroundings. The presence within his head softly reminds him that he is safe and that this strange white glow is merely shelter from the outside world. Nathan begins to squint his eyes in a sign of slight recognition...
The nothingness slowly gives way to the familiar walls of Rossville High, which now look unnaturally pale in contrast to their normally vibrant school colors. Nathan tries to move his head around for a different view, but his neck remains fixed in place - just like the rest of him.
…At this point, a figure steps forth from the misty-like surroundings. Judging by the muscular frame and proportions of this newcomer, they appear to be male. The rest of his features remain unidentifiable, due to the raised hood of his cloak and the brilliant light that surrounds him.
Nathan attempts to speak out to the stranger but his lips don’t seem to move…
The stranger continues to approach the boy, gradually lowering his cowl to reveal a head of silvery hair. His facial features look old and weathered, like that of a man who’s seen and done many things in his life. There’s even a deep scar that creases the flesh of his left cheek.
A note of concern starts to show in Nathan’s eyes. It isn’t so much the scar that frightens him… but mostly the greenish, alien-like coloring of the stranger’s skin!
The extraterrestrial calmly greets, “Ah yes! …The ever-illusive Number 108…I’m so very glad that you can finally join us.”
… Number 108?
The boy’s concern deepens…
“You look scared,” the alien observes before going on to advise, “We are not here to harm you, so there is no need to be afraid.”…The promise is backed with a reassuring smile that reveals two perfect rows of bleached-white teeth.
The creature is speaking in its own weird alien tongue and yet Nathan understands each and every word. The boy also notices that the being’s voice seems particularly odd, sounding as if it were electronically altered, or like it has a reverberating echo to it...
As if somehow reading the boys mind, the creature immediately answers, “I’m communicating with you through your translator implant.”
- My what?…W-who are you? …What are you?
Again reading the boy’s mind, the alien proudly replies, “I am Captain Kiyar; lead commander of the Orion harvest vessel Chimera.” He then goes on to explain, “Of the dozens of hybrids that we’ve planted world-wide, you are one of the chosen ones. It will be a great honor to serve your queen.”
- Hybrid?…Serve my queen?
The alien is standing so close to the boy now that Nathan can feel the heat of its oddly scented breath. He also notices the creature’s elliptical pupils, which appear cat-like, or possibly similar to those of a serpent or poisonous snake.
You may speak.
The soothing whisper activates another channel within Nathan’s mind. Like somebody releasing the mute button on a television remote, the boy suddenly has the faculty to speak. And of the dozens of questions swirling around in his head, he only manages to stutter, “B-b-but…I-I-I don’t understand...”
The alien advises, “It isn’t necessary for you to understand, dear boy…You only need to follow her orders and she will surely be pleased.”
“Who? …Follow what orders?”
- Just then, an approaching soldier interrupts the conversation. Before Nathan can utter another word, the commanding voice penetrates his thoughts once again…
…The boy immediately falls quiet.
- What in the hell is wrong with me?
As Nathan inaudibly wrestles with his lack of self control, a soldier steps within his line of vision. The boy can easily see that this newcomer is unmistakably female, due to her figure-hugging catsuit. She wears a half-dome-shaped helmet on her head, but the visor is down and it covers all but her rounded chin. There’s a cylindrical weapon slung over her shoulder and a utility belt hangs around her slim, curvy waist. Despite his current circumstances, the boy wishes he could see just a few inches lower to get a better view of her backside…
The soldier mentally reports, Captain, we’re showing a staff of 56 with a student population of 701. Early scouting reports show that 49% are female. Only 8% of those females register in the .090 through .100 range, while another 12% are in the .070 through .089 range.
Captain Kiyar briefly looks away and considers the envoy’s calculations. He notices a soldier who is scanning an unmoving young woman who’s bent over a drinking fountain. One of her arms is braced on the edge of the stainless steel structure, while the other is holding her auburn hair back over her shoulder. Now suspended in time, the girl appears to be lapping at a glass arch, rather than drinking from a stream of water. The soldier behind her makes one last pass over the curves of her bowed posterior before reading the results on his scanner. A nod of the helmet to a nearby comrade suggests that this one’s a keeper…
The captain turns back to his cute subordinate and mentally advises, The queen’s orders are to condition them in the conversion booths for now. A high school with nearly a quarter of its female population missing will surely raise suspicions.
The soldier gives a quick nod. - I’ll see to it that they locate the school’s interior communications system, Sir.
- Very well, soldier. Now get to it!
The subordinate gives a quick salute by thumping a closed fist against her ample chest. The captain acknowledges the gesture before returning his attention to the young human male…
The feminine voice rings true in Nathan’s head. The constricting hold on the boy’s frame suddenly loosens and falls away, much like a skydiver free falling from the side of a plane. The boy slowly begins to move his head, arms and then torso around, albeit with caution…
Nathan slowly turns his head to the right and looks through an opened classroom door. He recognizes one of his teachers - Mrs. Sánchez - now leaning over her desk in front of a class. The attractive Latina is older; quite possibly in her forties now, but she’s always taken great care in keeping up her appearance. As maturing schoolboys go, Nate and his fellow classmates all have crushes on Mrs. Sánchez. She habitually wore shorter dresses and would occasionally sit on the edge of her desk; her long, hosiery-sheathed legs crossed in a lady-like fashion, a high-healed shoe sometimes dangling from the tip of her big toe. She might have thought her captivated Spanish students were merely hanging on her every word. But in truth, these spellbound boys were simply trying get a glimpse of her panties, as she casually crossed and then uncrossed her shapely legs. The delightful reward would be the occasional flashes of white, black or the even rarer glimpses of lacey red. …But now she stood silent; her two cantaloupe-sized breasts bulging against her cardigan sweater; her head tilted stiffly downward like some deactivated fembot. With the way she stared idly through her desk top, it almost seemed as if she were patiently waiting for further instructions, rather than giving them out to her equally enthralled students...
A soldier suddenly appears out of nowhere and waves a strobe-like tool through Mrs. Sánchez’s line of vision. A short moment later, the alien directs the strobe between her braced arms and passes the wand over the rise of her breasts. All the while, the teacher stares blindly ahead, seemingly unaffected by the stranger’s indecent appraisal…
Nathan turns his attention to where a similar evaluation is taking place down the hall. Two more soldiers are scanning a pair of sweethearts in a corner. The embracing couple had been so caught up with their passionate kissing that they failed to even see the approaching light wave. Now they stand motionless, together, their impromptu tableau serving as a precise representation of their love for one another…
Nathan slowly pans to his left and a gasp immediately escapes from his lips.
Oh my god! - Willow!
…Once again the alien seems to read Nathan’s mind.
“This human female with the hair the hue of fire; she is a friend of yours, no?”
Nathan swallows hard in his throat; his mouth is still dry from being left open for so long…
“Yes,” croaks the boy, “Yes she is a friend of mine.”
Only now did the boy sense pressure within his palm. He glances downward to see Willow still clutching his hand within her own rigid fingers, as if sharing some desperate lifeline. He notices the coolness of her grip and quickly releases it, leaving her hand to hang eerily in mid-air...
Kiyar studies the female’s facial structure for a moment and slowly raises a green hand to the side of her face. The alien strokes the roundness of her cheek, taking time to appreciate how soft her skin feels against his leathery fingers. She doesn’t react to the contact, but simply stares ahead with glassy indifference…
Kiyar observes, “This human female is quite exceptional; from her handsomely sculpted features to her pure white skin… so soft… and so clear.” The alien reaches out to grasp an errant strand of Willow’s silken hair and toys with it between his fingers. The creature cracks a smile that reeks of guilty pleasure and adds, “…And with these graceful locks of brilliant orange! …She’s a rare beauty and a cherished find for a boy your age.”
Nathan absently nods his head in agreement, but he’s still distracted by the motionless beauty beside him. …With her porcelain-like skin, Willow almost looks like a marble statue; a realistic sculpture that was somehow granted with life. And from her lightly dimpled cheeks and crystal-blue eyes, to her fire-red hair, she exemplifies the embodiment of purity. …She wasn’t stuck-up like most of the other girls in his school. The feeling of amazement at their first words together suddenly comes back to him, and once again Nathan realizes just how lucky he is to even know her.
The boy finally admits out loud, “Yes…Yes she truly is a cherished find.”
The alien pries, “Have you reproduced with her?”
Nathan suddenly snaps out of his reverie and says, “Oh gosh no! . . . I mean I just met her today, and…”
Kiyar cuts the boy short and offers up a proposition. “But suppose you could…”
“W-w-what do you mean?”
“What if you had the power to control a female like this?…What if you could make her attentive to your every whim and need?”
Nathan makes a confused face and murmurs, “Sheesh - as if!”
Just then, an audible “click” from the school’s loudspeaker echoes throughout the hall.
“Attention all students and faculty members. …Attention all students and faculty members. …There is no need for alarm, as we mean you no harm.”
“As you hear these following words, let them resonate within your mind.”
“We have assumed control.”
“You now belong to the collective . . . You will be assimilated.”
“The time has come to accept your pre-chosen destiny.”
“ . . .You will be assimilated.”
“You are now being ordered to report to the gymnasium in a calm and orderly fashion. You will then be segregated by your physical ranking and assimilated with your fellow brothers and sisters.”
“You belong to the collective. …You will proceed as expected. …You will be assimilated.”
“We have assumed control. …We have assumed control. …We have assumed control.”
Within a short moment, metal chair legs could be heard scraping across tiled floors, as dazed students begin to rise from unseen desks. Just a few seconds later, those pupils and faculty alike begin filing out of classroom doors; at first one by one, then streaming continuously. In mock fire-drill fashion, they walk zombie-like down the hall, seemingly indifferent to their fellow peers all around them. Nathan had heard the initial broadcast himself, but something inside his head had told him to stay put. The aliens would have different plans for him…
As the announcement re-loops through the PA system, Nathan’s eyes scan his fellow students. He studies their slack postures, emotionless faces and their glazed eyes, as they dazedly flow out and around him. Some of their mouths hang slack, while others seem to be murmuring or just mouthing the commands that ring out from the speakers above their heads. And although he senses their apparent helplessness, he doesn’t feel sorry for them. Something deep down inside has conveyed to him that the captives were simply fulfilling the queen’s wishes. He rather admired them— not only for their ability to conform, but also for their readiness to give themselves to the greater cause—something he would proudly do in a heartbeat.
As the students continue to stream past, Nathan spots Shawn Nichols, his cute next-door neighbor, now as she files out of a classroom. She stares straight ahead, with her hands lazily brushing against her thighs. Lumbering along directly behind her is his Spanish teacher, Mrs. Sánchez. She also walks trance-like and without a sense of what’s going on all around her. The boy quickly waves a hand to get a reaction, but neither of the women respond. Both blend in with the seemingly unending flow of people as they continue to be summoned to the gymnasium.
Nathan quickly turns around to see that Willow has just reanimated. The girl slowly rotates around 180 degrees and sleepily murmurs, “Must report to the gymnasium. … Must be assimilated. …Will proceed as expected…”
“But wait!”…Nathan reaches for the girl’s forearm but just misses. He shouts out once again, “Please wait for me!” …But his desperate plea seems to fall on deaf ears; Willow steps into the flow of people and shuffles away, her brilliant red locks gradually fading into the crowd.
Captain Kiyar sets a generous hand on Nathan’s shoulder, causing the boy to tense up. “She can’t hear you,” the alien comments in a gentle voice. The boy nods halfheartedly in return...
As the last few students file out of the surrounding classrooms, a thousand questions swirl within Nathan’s mind. He finally finds the words to ask, “Why are they being taken to the gym? …What are you going to do to them?”
Kiyar explains, “Humans live each day of their boring and pointless lives in isolation — with few of them even questioning their very existence. Yet they live with this false sense of hope and security, each one walking in his or her own uprightness —and are quite satisfied to do so. Most seem completely oblivious to a race or existence beyond Earth’s atmosphere. But with the proper instruction, these same humans can be relieved of this senselessness. We will provide the direction and they will serve a greater sense of purpose in their daily lives. We’ve converted several species across the galaxy already —some even similar to your fellow Earth-bound humans. And like those species, we will assimilate the human race by modifying and then integrating your biological distinctiveness into our own collective. We will achieve this goal with our advanced technology and through forced assimilation; a process that will transform and simultaneously control each human individual. And once they are linked to the collective, they will think as a whole and they will then live to serve the queen.”
Live to serve the queen. Nathan had heard this phrase used quite a few times already. His classmates and teachers are on their way to undergo their preparations to serve the queen. Now the boy was beginning to wonder when he would get the chance to serve...
Kiyar reads the boy’s mind and advises, “You will surely know when you are called upon by the queen. And once you have, you shall never resist.”
Once again Kiyar rubs the boy’s shoulder as a sign of reassurance, causing Nathan to crack a smile in silent gratitude. “Now let’s go watch the preparations…”
Their walk from the second floor hallway to the gymnasium is a peculiar one. Nathan feels more than a little “off center” in his own body; as if he were drunk or somehow under the influence of a strong medication. The concrete steps that connect the second floor mezzanine to the first floor lobby are particularly difficult to descend. Nate has bolted up and down these stairs on a daily basis for the past two years. But now, each step downward appears to be carefully measured, with each transition seeming to pass by in a total blur. And all the while, there is this bizarre sensation of feeling completely relaxed and being totally out of his mind - but in a very calm way.
Nathan wobbles a bit as he reaches the surface of the lobby floor, but Kiyar is there to steady the boy. As the pair head down the corridor that leads to the gymnasium the alien advises, “It may take a moment for the implant to draw your natural walking pattern in sync with its control processes.”
Even before Nathan has a chance to question the comment, he can feel another tingle pass through his neck. Without the slightest consideration, there is sudden involuntary movement from his limbs; the squaring of his shoulders, the straightening of his back and the slight rise of his chin. Even his footsteps become firmer and more deliberate. It was as if some unseen force had taken control of his body and was now guiding the way...
I will lead you.
The velvety whisper slips into the boy’s consciousness once again, leading him forward and giving new meaning to his trials.
Up ahead, two burly soldiers stand guard at the entrance to the gymnasium. Their posture is stiff and their demeanor is stern, as they guide the last few straggling students inside.
“Males to the left, females to the right,” one of them orders. The alien’s voice is strict and he sounds unsympathetic to whatever atrocities might be taking place behind him. When Nathan finally reaches the entrance himself, the two guards salute their captain beside him. The one ordering students to the left and the right flashes a condescending sneer at the boy before letting him through.
Inside the gym, even more of these green-skinned soldiers stand guard. In braced stances and with weapons raised, they survey the proceedings with extreme caution. As the sun streams down through the skylights above them, it creates brilliant reflections off of their lowered black visors. The results made them look just a little more inhuman and a lot more sinister than they already were.
Just past the watchful guards stand several groups of technicians dressed in white lab coats and wearing wrap-around shades. A few are sorting out the incoming arrivals, while several more are gathered around two stand-alone structures that resemble airport body scanners. Two separate lines of women have already formed behind each of the metal archways. As one person passes through the other end of the scanner, the line moves another position ahead…
Nathan pauses to watch, as the next female student is carefully guided beneath and placed between the supports of the full body scanner. The technicians take a step back as a white fluorescent tube begins its slow descent from the top of the archway. The light begins to flicker like a strobe as it passes over the girl’s expressionless face, growing in brilliance as it passes over her chest and hips. At the same time, a second tube of light is already ascending from the bottom upward. It too grows in brilliance as it passes over the girls protruding backside. Off to the side, another technician studies the twenty-two inch monitor that’s mounted to one of the uprights. Red digital numbers scroll higher and higher with lightning speed, much like a counter at the Wall Street stock exchange. Once these numbers have slowed to a gradual stop, the technician then records the scores into his own hand-held scanning device. He briefly reviews the results and then turns to a nearby co-worker to mentally advise, - 91.8 —Row 2.
Awaiting technicians quickly whisk the girl away, adding her to a line of bedazzled women whom all stand silent beside a fixed placard labeled as “Row 2”. Back beyond the scanner, another female is guided beneath the archway to take the former girl’s place. Once the unsuspecting subject is placed into the proper “hands at side, chest thrust outward and standing upright in the most accurate scanning position”, the tubes of light begin their slow progress all over again...
Nathan moves on past the scanner area and looks to the far left of the gym, where he sees male faculty members and students alike, being herded like beef cattle into several long lines. Waiting technicians accept the first in each line and guide them into a set of what look like Plexiglas booths. Nate turns again and looks back to his right, glancing over several similarly long lines that are filling up with only females. He sees many of the full-figured gals from his school in the nearest group, including the likes of old Mrs. Harper. The Social Studies teacher is a particularly buxom lady, who appears to be somewhere in her sixties and walks with a slight limp. Her plump hindquarters always seem to stretch her crisp, ankle-length skirts to their outer-most limits. The teacher stands with her hands at her sides and stares complacently into the back of the head of one of the portly students in front of her...
Nathan observes the next line, which is nearly doubled in length. The females in this one range from chubby to slightly overweight. Line three beyond them is filling up with average-looking girls that are skinny in build and range from tall to petite. The boy walks onward to row two, where many of the prettier girls from his school have formed another line. It is here that he recognizes several of his own classmates, as well as Shawn Nichols; his cute neighbor from down the street. The junior stands with her hands at her sides, her glazed eyes staring off at some unknown point in the distance. The expression on her face looks reflective and dream-like...
“Shawn,” the boy murmurs.
Nathan steps up right beside her but his neighbor’s faraway stare remains trained ahead. He waves a hand through Shawn’s line of sight, vying for her undivided attention. Yet the girl still shows no reaction — There’s not even a blink of her pretty brown eyes. Her thoughts are obviously elsewhere and there is something just a little bit unnerving about her unbroken silence.
Somewhat discouraged, Nathan glances over Shawn’s shoulder and takes a few steps further to attempt to awaken the tall blonde that stands directly behind her. The boy grips the senior’s arm and shakes it, attempting to awaken her from her opened-eyed slumber. Yet his efforts are just as futile…
Kiyar soon appears within the boy’s peripheral vision. The alien studies the dazed young blonde before them before giving a satisfied nod at the results. He goes on to advise, “As I mentioned earlier; they can’t hear you...”
Not wanting to be discouraged, the boy steps through the senior’s line of vision to discover the furthest and last column. “Row 1” is the shortest of the five, but it contains only the hottest of Rossville’s female population: Cheerleaders; divas; jockettes; preppy chicks and even toned-up, deeply-tanned farm girls —the absolute “crŹme de la crŹme” of feminine pulchritude have been sorted here. All stand glassy-eyed and at attention; each staring through the back of the head of the dick-teasing beauty before her.
Nathan scans the entire length of the line, fully expecting to see his beautiful Willow. He ends up spotting Marcie Freeman and Julie Lane instead. Jennifer Fox also waits her turn in line just before them…
Nathan briefly studies Jennifer’s expression, which remains vapid, like so many others around her. “They all look so dreamy,” the boy observes out loud…
Kiyar continues to advise, “Yes. …In this entranced state, it is far easier to indoctrinate them. Each one has already been scanned and classified by size, beauty and desirability. With their comeliness scores recorded, they can now be cataloged and then processed for assimilation. ”
- Assimilation. There was that word again.
The alien steers Nathan forward and the pair walk slowly along the line of beautiful, bewitched young women; their eyes still half-lidded and glassy, each one staring listlessly through the classmate before her. They eventually reach the head of the line and come upon an attractive brunette who is rather petite in stature but pleasingly curvaceous. A recent college graduate with a Master’s in educational psychology, Ms. Portman is known more for her short skirts and smooth legs, rather than her counseling abilities. She’s facing forward just like the others but her eyelids are slowly blinking. The young guidance counselor appears to be coming out of her trance and is mouthing some inaudible words just beneath her breath...
Nathan slows his pace in an effort to try and hear what the woman is saying. “Ms. Portman?” he asks while waving a hand, “Can you hear me?”
By now the bewildered guidance counselor is weaving her head back and forth. She glances to the side and looks directly at Nathan but seems too far out of it to recognize one of her favorite students. She dazedly murmurs, “Must …resissst…Can’t …break free…”
An alarm suddenly sounds and a voice squawks out over the PA system, “Code 3 in row one. …We have a code 3 in row one.”
Kiyar urges the boy forward in instant reaction. “You will want to see this,” the alien warns in a rather serious tone.
The boy watches as a technician quickly opens the door to one of the Plexiglas tubes. A newly converted student slowly steps down from the enclosure; her ears now covered with two silvery pods. As the pulse of her earpieces guide the girl away, another technician quickly steps into view. This alien is a little more arrogant and far more impatient than the others. He seizes Ms. Portman by the arm and gives her a harsh yank forward. As the counselor stumbles towards the platform she continues to murmur, “But I …I don’t understand …I’ve done nothing wrong…”
Ms. Portman starts to challenge her handler by dragging her thick-heeled mules across the surface of the platform. The pitiless alien abruptly lifts and then swings the woman around before shoving her inside the tube. Within seconds the counselor’s arms and legs are forcefully strapped into place and a synchronizer cap is quickly lowered over her head. The woman wriggles her torso about and struggles against her restraints in defiance, but it doesn’t do any good; once the door to the tube is secured shut and the conversion tube is powered-up, there’s no turning back. There’s a sudden winding noise like a powerful turbine coming up to speed, followed by numerous electronic bleeps and bloops.
The annoyed technician cocks his head off to the side and activates the two-way mike upon his shoulder. He proudly reports, “…Code 3 in row 1 now safely neutralized.”
A terrified Ms. Portman continues to thrash against her restraints with more urgency than before. With her head locked forward within the embrace of her crown, the woman’s eyes dart about madly looking for somebody or something —make that anything— to free herself. And even now, within the confines of her tube, the counselor can still hear the ascending whine of the equipment reaching a fevered pitch…
-And that’s when the first wave hits.
- Ms. Portman bolts upright within her restraints; there’s a mixture of shock and pure horror now showing in her facial expression. A quick ripple of energy has just traveled from her head down to her toes. She has no way of knowing that this first jolt is simply meant to grab her attention…
The second wave hits even harder.
- Ms. Portman stiffens again; her toes curl within her mules, her fingers extend to their fullest length and her eyes go wild with terror. This time, the counselor can feel an enormous amount of energy flowing through her body. It starts like a tiny spiral within her head and quickly grows into a mind-numbing wave. This pleasurable sensation drops from her head and goes out and beyond; flowing out over her arms and down over her breasts. It continues its surge downward; some of it pooling around her pudenda while the rest creeps down over her legs. The woman feels a heightened state of sensitivity and her face turns chalk-white as she struggles to fight the urge…
—Oh god no! she thinks to herself. Not now! …Not here — Not like this in front of all these strangers!
As if somehow reading her mind, the surge immediately subsides, leaving the young woman on the outer cusp of an orgasm. The tension in her body releases and her head tilts back towards her heaving chest. It seems that whatever this force might be, it’s just toying around with her now; simply egging her on to test her resolve and push her to the outer-most limits. The counselor barely has time to consider anything more when the third wave hits…
- This third wave is twice as powerful and far more effective than the last. Ms. Portman’s body is besieged with energy and her reward is instant: a current of white heat shoots from her clit to her brain and everything within her mind explodes with brilliance. She snaps forward within her restraints at once; fists clenching, neck straining, her toes now pointing in ecstasy. As her hips buck in reaction the embarrassed counselor cries out, “Uh!…Ohhh!…Ohhh! …Oh pleeeease God help me!”
Wave four is like a depth charge to the brain and is truly unbearable; like diving beneath the crush of a breaking swell and having your brain get sucked out to sea by the pull of the undertow. Ms. Portman’s convulsions of pleasure are impossibly more intense than before and by the time they eventually subside, the woman is left physically and emotionally drained. She thinks she might have let out a whimper in pleasure at some point, but she can’t be sure. It’s becoming a major struggle to hold onto her thoughts at this point and they’re slipping away fast like silt through her fingers...
There’s a momentary pause. But then, off in the murky distance, the counselor can feel the vibrations from the evil machine powering up again. With every last bit of strength that the woman can muster she somehow manages to cry out, “Oh God no! …I beg of you! …PLEASE NO MORE!”
Ms. Portman’s face locks into a silent scream and her back arches hard beneath the overwhelming force. Wave after wave crashes through her, over her, dominating her completely. And unlike the previous orgasm, this one never seems to ebb. The mind-numbing vibrations continue to flow up and down her spine; they tighten every muscle and relax every nerve ending, slowly turning her mind into mush...
The counselor jerks in place only once before her eyes roll back into their fluttering lids. By the time this sixth wave takes hold, the woman’s orgasms are so concentrated that they push her into a near Tantric state. Her eyes roll downward and she simply stares off into the distance without considering a thought or even uttering a sound. In fact, the only signs that she’s still alive are the involuntary twitches from her wrists and the intermittent spasms from her thighs...
Nathan continues to look up at the chamber in awe and somehow finds the words to ask, “Did she just…Did she do what I think she did?”
“Oh yes . . . Multiple times in fact.”
Ms. Portman stands stiffly at attention inside her cell; mouth slightly agape, glazed eyes staring off dreamily, her hands still clenched into two solid fists. An occasional shudder flows through her body like a ripple in a pond, gradually loosening the grip of her hands…
There’s a sudden click and a voice softly whispers inside her head: …This shall be your reward.
…The voice sounds feminine; sugary and sweet. …Even a bit infectious.
Ms. Portman expels a gentle sigh.
- A reward. …Yes…I do believe I’d like that.
- You will serve the collective and your reward shall be pleasure.
With whatever capacity she has left, Ms. Portman takes the time to consider those words. They seem to ring truer in her educated head with every agonizing ripple that passes through her loins…
The heavenly voice softly repeats, You will serve the collective and your reward shall be pleasure.
- Yesss . . . Yes I will serve the collective.
- You will serve, honor and obey without question.
- Yesss… I will serve, honor and obey without quesss-tion
The poor woman is on cloud nine now; vibrating from head to toe as if she were a stringed instrument producing some beautiful chord. Her serene expression never changes as she floats along in the afterglow.
From the outside, Nathan continues to look on, completely mesmerized by Ms. Portman’s transformation. And even as he admires his guidance counselor, he unknowingly witnesses her final surrender. As the woman finally falls back against her restraints, the last of her free will fades off like the morning mist in a beam of sunlight.
The aliens’ mind-bending technology pulls the woman’s mind into sync; their programmed directions resounding in her head in an endless loop. And although her lips are parted, the teacher doesn’t utter a single word. The only sound is a high-speed hum as the necessary information is uploaded from the mother ship’s database down into the recipient’s memory bank…
When Ms. Portman’s conversion is complete, two robotic arms swing out from behind her head and clamp themselves over her ears. They remain there for a brief moment before swinging back and locking into their original position. A newly minted set of receivers now covers the guidance counselor’s ears.
- Now go and serve the collective…
A small indicator light on the side of one the pods changes from flashing red to a steady green in finality…
Nathan blurts out, “Whoa!”
The counselor’s restraints unlock and fall away and the Plexiglas door opens with a hiss. Ms. Portman calmly steps out of her booth, makes a sharp right turn and walks off the platform to join the other converts. Another victim brushes past Nathan’s shoulder and takes her place inside…
A female voice that sounds stern and demanding suddenly rings out from within Kiyar’s receivers. -Have you located 108, captain?
Kiyar mentally advises, -We have indeed, my queen.
- And has the subject been updated yet?
- Yes he has.
- Excellent! See to it that he’s integrated back into the student body before you leave.
- And shall the subject be fully aware of all that has happened here?
- No! I want 108 left unaware just as he was. He will be put to the test soon enough.
- Very well, my queen.
Kiyar turns to the human just in time to see his face go blank. His head drops to his chest and he stands in silence once more. The captain gently pats Nathan on the head and murmurs, “You’ll get your chance to serve the queen soon, my boy…Very soon.”
Kiyar turns away from the boy who’s already slipped away into a peaceful slumber. He surveys the busy scene all around him as technicians continue to handle the unsuspecting humans with haste. In less than six hours time, all will be processed and assimilated. Once this treatment is complete, the aliens will pack up their equipment and leave the school well behind. And once they are gone, the faculty and students of Rossville High will collectively awaken from their frozen trances; some standing in front of classrooms with a piece of chalk in hand and raised to a blackboard, while so many others remain patiently seated at desks, all seemingly unaware of their prior state. They will not recall the green-skinned aliens or their massive ship, nor will they be suspicious of the sleek little pods that now cover their ears. They will not question their constant state of arousal. No; daily life will carry on as usual for them. It will be a life now void of worthless commitments, pointless dreams and personal goals. But theirs will surely be a productive life for the collective...
* * * * * *
To be CONTINUED…