The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Without controversy, the trillions America spent on the Q complex were essential. The super-alloy cages. The EM triple containment grid. The walls of advanced ceramics to insulate from the ocean. The fact that the complex was built on the Atlantic seabed off Florida ensured that a miscalculation with this AI complex and this technology would not rip the Earth in two.

An ocean could conceivably be cleaved or fractured, and ten million coastal residents would die. But the planet would survive.

The future needed energy. Now. Not in twenty or thirty years. Solar and battery tech would help, but so slowly that Earth would be near dead by the time those technologies overtook the toxic past.

Quantum ZPE Extraction was a survival race.

The countdown to the first QZPE event was precise and scaled to a one-nanoliter event, with the expected energy transfer of half a kilowatt. It was perfect.

The champagne celebration by the thirteen staff at the undersea Q complex lasted an hour, with the technical success report transmitted to Washington, D.C., four hours later. The executive summary was two pages, but could be condensed to three words: ‘this changes everything’.

Phases 2 through 5 were approved the same night.

Phase 2 wiped out all thirteen staffers five days later.

There was no one to communicate with. No one responded to comms. The two navy destroyers on call circling the Q complex were in waters some 600 feet deep. Their defensive mission included mounting the Advanced SEAL Delivery System (ASDS) minisub rated for the trip down to the Q complex.

Orders direct from the White House were to recon the Q complex and attempt short-range communication with the staff.

Caution advised, assume the worst.

The report of the minisub came one hour later. Lights on. Watertight. Limited visibility inside the facility from near es of glazing ports, no response to radio, or Morse signal lamp. Assumed was a small tech failure of environmental systems or a limited explosion of batteries that had poisoned the atmosphere faster than anyone could react.

A team of scientists and tech responders was gathered in D.C. and flown to Miami, where they transferred to the destroyer by helicopter. Orders: clear the complex of dangers, find out what happened, and get the program back on track quickly.

The team was eight volunteers. The minisub could only carry eight besides the two pilots.

Dr. Chuck Aston was the forensic medical pathologist out of Walter Reed who might figure out what killed everyone. Before it killed anyone else.

Even with his full travel kit, it was hard for Chuck to figure out exactly why the thirteen were dead.

Nothing about the bodies or the complex indicated what went wrong. Black box confirmed the team had run a successful Phase 2. The QZPE had added a thousand kilowatts to system batteries.

But the video record showed all the staff dropped in place instantly at the event.

Chuck summarized on encrypted comms relayed to the nearest Navy destroyer, and then to CNO in D.C. “My assessment is they died right where they were working. Minor contusions from hitting the floor or furniture. Some were slumped in seats. No alarms were running. I’m told the QZPE chamber shut down perfectly. I know this isn’t much to go on, but the sick bay here won’t allow for diving any deeper into details of what happened. Captain Holst tells me it will take a day to get the bodies all topside for transfer to Army Health Clinic SOUTHCOM.”

“No sign of electrocution? No toxic gas?” The CNO did not sound satisfied.

“Nope. And most of the floor areas here are rubber tile mats. If they were hit by a big charge bouncing around inside, there should be burn marks somewhere on the bodies or gear, and there aren’t.” Chuck offered, “Shall I accompany the bodies back? They don’t need me here.”

“Dr. Aston, you are not cleared for that facility. Many thanks for pitching in on this crisis. You have nothing to say as you were never there. Yes, return with the bodies where you can continue to examine them. Is the Miami Clinic sufficient?”

“Not really. If you are concerned about security and gossip. I’d recommend something else, and maybe another pathologist with the right clearance. Deep scans of tissue as soon as feasible.” Chuck had done all he figured was needed.

“Understood, Doctor. We’ll transfer them here to Walter Reed MC. Thanks for taking on this task on short notice. Good job. Check in when you get back. We may want a handoff from you to another scientist. Out here.”

Following with the thirteen bodies meant a long delay at Miami for refrigeration and packing. Then more paperwork and a flight to D.C.

Chuck dozed on the flight.

“Dr. Aston, can we talk? Dr. Aston?”

Chuck kicked upward through a sea of sleep. He smiled. Something about mermaids?

Awake, he nodded at the female Lt. Cmdr. “Yep. Here.”

She sat down in the seat next to him. “Doctor, are you very sure the QZPE staff are dead?”

Whoa. Chuck sat up straighter and checked her name tag. “Commander Jenkins, I was with the bodies for a long time. They would never have been moved or refrigerated if I hadn’t been sure. What prompts such a weird question?”

She looked over her shoulder into the darker fuselage shadows. Then back to Chuck. “Three answers to that. First, I’m going to kiss you.” She leaned slowly closer.

He smelled her lipstick, some lighter scent in her hair. There was a static pop when they kissed. And he smelled the ocean. Chuck blinked as she leaned away. He was painfully erect. Very. It was damned uncomfortable. He was glad the long interior space was only brightened by his overhead lap light.

He noticed two women were standing behind her. The tiny light over his head didn’t paint any of the three women well, but he could see Jenkins clearly.

“That was nice,” she smiled.

Wow. Sure. Better than most. He cleared his throat and covered his crotch slowly with his left hand. “Agreed. Second?”

Jenkins pointed to herself. “Jenkins.” She gestured to the redhead in slacks. “Franks.” And she reverse-waved to thumb at the brunette. “Dr. Tate.”

His neck chilled. Wait. He looked at them each again. Notes. Forms swam in his tired thoughts. “Relatives? How did you get to Miami? Why are you on this flight?”

Jenkins put a hand on his knee. “Maybe I don’t look 39. Or dead? Can you help us?”

Chuck jerked away to stand, but he was belted in. But his move was sudden, sharp. All three women leaned away from him.

He realized he had cried out. “Sorry. Uh. I…”

Tate leaned closer into the light. “And I don’t look 53 and dead. But it would seem, Chuck, that you handled our dead bodies, and here we are. Possible energy state collapse to a gender attraction. Only the three women are here. Thanks. I guess.”

Chuck embarrassed himself by jerking back against the seat belt again. No. She looked 22 tops. Franks looked 19 and stunning. Jenkins around 29. Or it was her serious expression aging her. “I’m still asleep. I do forensics. I’m not spooked by dead bodies. I apologize.”

“We understand,” said Jenkins. “We already tried to reanimate ourselves with some commingling at the complex. No go. Any suggestions?”

Chuck gently unfastened the seat belt as quietly as possible. “Even if this is a dream, it isn’t like any dream I’ve ever had. I am not a quantum guru. Are you only visible to me?”

Sasha Franks weighed in, “Yes. We’ve been with you since you started handling our bodies. First, without knowing each other were there as well. No fellas showed up. We finally clicked with each other when you tagged and bagged us.”

Dr. Tate added, “I believe we overlapped in the medbay close quarters and dropped into a synced state. Things got easier. Shared energy waves. We can communicate without words. At a guess, since you didn’t respond to us until you were in a sleep state, none of us may be using sound.”

Chuck closed his eyes. Wake up, idiot.

He opened his eyes to them smiling at him. For just a second, he flashed on an old film. The brides of Dracula, smiling beauties. Shadows. But no fancy gowns.

Chuck tried, “So talk to me without sound.”

Sasha Franks. You called yourself an idiot. I like your nerve. I sobbed like a baby when the others appeared out of nowhere.

Callista Tate. My theory is we were knocked out of our bodies and are now grounded in yours. Shared waveform. Hard to prove anything at this point. Navy should consider Phase 2 a failure. But not your field. Hard to see them consulting you.

Gayle Jenkins. We already did the screaming and grieving hours ago. You may absolutely make a scene, but there are four Air Force crew in the cockpit. So be discreet. We should like you not to get locked up for derangement.

Chuck sighed. “Not a dream.” He checked his watch. At least an hour to D.C. We are all professionals. Let’s chat a while. Start with simple things. You checked the cockpit, so how far can you move from me?

The conversation filled the entire hour. Callista Tate had plenty of theories. Sasha Franks was a computer analyst specialist. Lt. Cmdr. Gayle Jenkins was security and command comms (C4I) for the Q complex.

Chuck realized a bit late that even a casual conversation with them was information he was not cleared to have.

It was 2 am. Chuck let the CNO office know he was back in D.C. and going home. They had his number.

Once home, he thanked the…ladies for all their help in getting him up to speed with their experience and went to bed. He’d been up for twenty-one hours.

He couldn’t fall asleep right away. Maybe because he knew they were there. If not in view. Chained to him by unlikely events. Maybe unique events.

Maybe he was just a little spooked.

But sleep arrived.

Chuck kicked upward through a blue shadow sea of sleep. He groaned. Mermaids sucked his balls. Licked his thighs. His erection was a painful knot. A fanged mouth went sliding down to the root of his cock. Carefully. Searing lips.

No release. Mounting heat. An aching buzz that made no sense.

Chuck made a small cry. He woke. Very little light came into the bedroom, but it was well into morning. There were three women in bed with him. Naked.

Sex. His skin alive everywhere at once, almost too much. Incredible. Ready to cum. Three hot mouths.

The redhead mouthing his cock. A brunette between his legs. Licking. Then midnight-haired Jenkins slid her mouth up from his nipple and kissed him. “Good morning.” Her tongue found his.

!Popspark!

He jerked and came so hard he screamed.

Salty. Dreams. Arousal. Warm.

Chuck woke up slowly to the murmur of women’s voices.

He ed bliss. Hot power crawling up his spine. Orgasm beneath the ocean.

Was that his memory or theirs?

Chuck opened his eyes and sat up. It was dark. He checked his heart rate then. Good enough. 78. He smiled at the weird memory of pain.

Carefully, he swept the covers back and slid out of bed.

“Callista? Sasha? Gayle?” His legs shook slightly. He got to his feet.

Kitchen. We’re grieving over the coffee maker. us, Chuck. We are desperate for you to drink coffee so we can taste it. Callista’s mind sounded sad, a bit shaky.

He found pajama bottoms and walked into the kitchen. He nodded to all of them. “Coffee. Coming right up.”

The women were again in their work clothes, looking crisp, neat, and ready for a day of science. They looked solid. They had shadows. Callista’s face showed signs she’d just stopped crying, or was going to start. Sasha was slightly drawn. Gayle, still the lead, smiled at him and whispered, “Coffee will be terrific. Sorry about the…orgy. We had no intention of hurting you. It was—you have a pull, a fascination for us.”

Sasha glanced at Callista, who watched Chuck carefully and said, “At first, we thought we’d killed you with a cardiac event.”

Chuck’s cock had hardened at ‘orgy.’ He finished a double espresso pour and held the black coffee to his nose. He savored the first sip.

All the women closed their eyes and relaxed.

Chuck had a dozen new questions he didn’t have before the sex with quantum ghosts. He picked small ones to start. “Was it good for you?”

They all blushed. Jenkins’ smile was a radiant thing and changed her apparent age to 21. They all nodded. Sasha laughed.

Chuck smiled back. “OK. Gayle, a test case. Can you kick off your flats?”

She quirked an eyebrow in question and then smoothly removed each black shoe. Her toes were painted pearl under her nude hose.

Chuck shook his head. “Damn. I was sure you wouldn’t be able to, or they would just disappear if you tried. Can you change your blouse to black silk?”

Gayle shrugged, “How? Why?”

Chuck grinned. “Not super important, but you were all fetchingly naked last night. I figured you vanished the clothes—so you mentally deleted them. Altered them. Guess not.”

Callista looked excited, healthier, steady now. She stared at her shoes. Nothing happened.

Chuck watched Sasha try staring at her shoes, then she looked lasers at her watch. Nothing.

Callista said, “Good theory. But as I recall. We just stripped down last night?” She searched Sasha and Gayle for confirmation.

“Ya,” Sasha agreed. “The clothes came off the same old way.”

Chuck felt his cock throb and go erect. His blood pounded away down in his crotch. He drank all the coffee in the mug. Started another cup.

The ladies ran a conversation behind his back about fabrics and layers. Then about sucking up his salty semen. This led to them holding hands when Callista itted she was embarrassed. She had not had sex since her divorce eight years ago.

Chuck got more aroused. Hot need. It was like he was the invisible ghost, and they were more alive than he was. He wanted them again. Sex. Even ing the hard shock, the pain, and his spine on fire before blackness. Nothing after.

Chuck swallowed. “Ah. Twist ending? How would we know if I did not have a cardiac event? Am I dead? This feels like an important idea.”

All conversation stopped.

Someone. Chuck thought it was Sasha, muttered, “Oh, fuck.”

Gayle, “Everyone chill. I’m going to look in the bedroom. We weren’t immediately aware of our empty bodies. I’ll scout.”

Chuck said, “Bodies don’t spook me. I can—”

Gayle countered, “Chuck, drink your coffee. I’ve got this.”

She walked off, soft hose-whisper steps. Chuck looked down at her quantum dressy black flats on the gray vinyl floor. Hmm. Yes, they had real shadows too. Well, to him they did.

All good. No body in here. Congrats, Chuck. Gayle sounded as pleased as Chuck felt.

Chuck’s coffee chased the butterflies out of his stomach.

“Dreams. I’ve been dreaming of swimming underwater. Ocean. Salt. Mermaids? Anyone dreaming? Mean anything??” Chuck drank more coffee. Fourth cup. He should stop. But he could tell it made the ladies very comfortable.

They were all four in his small living room. It was near midnight. He had slept the day away after getting home, and then the spectacular sex.

They looked so sensual, really adorned on his cheap IKEA furniture. Gayle had put her shoes back on.

Maybe he felt a draw to them. Hot. Sasha had flirty eyes.

Callista took up the notion eagerly. “I have not slept since the QZPE event. I fear this will eventually wreck my focus. No dreams then. No brain refresh. What sort of mermaids, Chuck?”

“Cannot recall.” He itted. “Underwater. Hair flowing clouds of strong colors. Pale wet bodies. I guess?”

Sasha and Gayle agreed with Callista. The new normal had no sleep. No dreams.

Callista asked, “Ever dream of the ocean or merfolk before?”

“Hardly.” Chuck set down his mug. “Not important then.”

Dr. Tate said, “May I trance you to dig out details? We were under the ocean. We are female. Our alt-life is damned mysterious. This is at least a clue.”

Chuck scoffed. “I don’t find hypnosis credible.”

“Said the doctor to the ghost.” Dr. Tate chuckled, “I am a scientist, and I do. I don’t have the proper equipment, but would you indulge me in trying?”

Chuck tried to think of a sensible refusal. Failed. “Sure. What do I need to do to set up for you?”

At Tate’s direction, all lights but the nearest were off. He sat his favorite chair. Callista asked him to be aware of the light behind her shoulder. To follow her voice.

Chuck smiled, “You mean your not-voice?”

Callista grinned grandly, “Yes. Follow. Let everything smooth over. Let my words guide your focus. Very easy to do. Simple. Yes?”

“Yes.”

“Very easy. Your work requires great focus. You are an expert. Focus is easy for you. The dream was vivid. Yes?” Her voice was nice.

“It was.” Chuck recalled the smell of salt.

“The light is comfortable. We are all friends. You have great focus. Very easy. Smooth. Relax. The light is getting darker. Your focus can dim the light now.”

“OK.”

“Dimming. Smooth. Easier now. Getting darker. What color was the ocean?”

“Blue.” The light was going away.

“Blue shadows. Blue water. Smooth transition. Deeper. How many mermaids?”

“Three.” It was deep, and the blue shadows were wet. The blue mouths were wet.

“Sink deeper, Chuck. More relaxed.”

The water was warm. Comfort.

“Easy. Simple. Very relaxed. Thousands of blue colors under the sea and darkness.”

“Blue.” Chuck muttered.

“Easy. Deeper. Better detail. Can you see the mermaids?”

So dark. He drifted. He felt the hot mouth sucking his cock. Good. “So wet. Hot sucking mouth. Blue lipstick. Salt. I’m going to cum.”

Callista made a small sound of arousal in her throat. She was so wet. She whispered, “I’m going to cum…”

Sasha stood and pushed her slacks down. “Me too.” She kicked her flats off.

Gayle tossed her blouse aside and quickly got her hands behind her to unhook her bra. “Yes. I’ve got this. I love his cock. So wet.”

Sasha begged, “Share. Please.” She stepped out of her wet panties. “I’m so wet.”

Chuck said, “You are all so wet. I’m going to cum.”

Gayle moaned, found Chuck’s erection and slid her aching hot mouth down his length. Her face cuddled his soft pajamas. She drooled. She bobbed her head as his heat grew.

Callista stood and started tearing her clothes off with ruthless urgency. “He’s looping with us. . Try to stop. I’m going to cum.”

Sasha threw her bra away. “No. Can’t stop. I’m going to cum. Gayle, you cunt. Save some for me.”

Chuck whispered. “Wet. Mermaid. Cunts. So beautiful. Blue hot mouths.”

Gayle’s blue cunt mouth came hard. The cock got hotter. The energy ed from him to her mouth, down her spine, and her blue cunt pussy exploded. She grunted. Sasha. Your go now. Hot blue cunt mouth.

Gayle slid aside for her sister cunt. Mind sister pussy. Energy splashing blue cunt pussy lightning.

Sasha dove down. Blue deadly ocean pressure above her. Hot blue cunt mouth. She swallowed his rod. She felt grounded. Complete. Hot. God, he was hot.

Power.

Explosive. Blue. The control room went so blue her eyes hurt. Hot. Brain. Sasha flinched. Pain. Mindcumcrash. Hot blue cunt mouth.

Callista went to Gayle and licked pre-cum and drool from her hot blue cunt mouth. Calmly forced a kiss. Gayle creamed herself, then had a full orgasm and squirted more cum.

!Popspark!

Their blue mouths sealed together. Locked. Orgasmed. Arms clutched. Fingers dug flesh. Thighs perfectly thrust into blue oblivion.

Energy crashed. The apartment circuits blew.

The neighborhood went dark.

In the full dark, they fucked in rotation. His cock was full of lightning. They grounded on him. Grinding. Mind cum crashing.

Blue. Hot.

Swimming up from the dark. Chuck felt strong. Felt great. He looked down into the shadowed blue for the three mermaids.

It was too dark. Nothing down there.

“Dr. Aston, can you talk? Dr. Aston?”

Chuck kicked upward through a sea of sleep. He smiled. Hot cunt blue mermaids? He blinked awake slowly.

There was a stark light in his eyes. Ow. Stiff muscles.

Chuck muttered, “Wha…”

Woman, he did not know, “EMS, Dr. Aston, power’s been out for six hours. We are going door to door in the apartment complex. You didn’t respond, but your car was identified outside. We broke in. How are you feeling, sir? Tell me your name. How old are you?”

Chuck woozily realized he was in his favorite chair. Pajama bottoms. In his apartment. A BP cuff around his arm. “Chuck Aston. I’m thirty-five.”

“Great,” she nodded. “What month is it? Were you asleep in your chair? Did you fall in the dark?”

“2026. August. Fell asleep. I’m fine.” He blinked at the full darkness. No streetlights. No hallway lights. His apartment door was broken. Someone had smashed it open. “Please. Move the light from my face. It’s August. I did not fall.”

Someone in the hallway, he could not see, yelled. “Little help here. Woman down with bloody face. Head injury. I’m in the kitchen of 235. Do we have another unit on the way?”

Chuck grew irritated, “I’m a doctor. Go help that guy. I’m fine.”

“Your heart rate is very high, Dr. Aston. You just take it easy.”

A pale, wet hand with blue lacquer nails slid out of the dark and caressed the EMT’s forehead. “Chuck is fine. You heard him. Go help elsewhere, Vicki. I’ve got this. You can come back later.”

Gayle’s profile eased into the flashlight’s directed glow, and she kissed the EMT on her temple. She licked the EMT’s face. Her upper fangs showed beneath her wet blue lips.

The EMT smiled broadly at Chuck. Her voice was low. “Chuck is fine. I’ll help elsewhere. You’ve got this. I can cum suck later.” Her smile grew larger.

Chuck’s heart found a much faster rhythm. How would he resist that smile? Vicki.

The EMT left reluctantly, leaving her gear bag behind on the floor.

Chuck squared his shoulders and looked at Gayle. Naked. Wet like she’d just walked out of the ocean. Dripping long midnight hair. He shook himself more awake. “I’m getting dressed. We need coffee and a serious talk.”

Gayle nodded. “Sure.”

Chuck drove them all twenty minutes to a SunBuck’s coffee place that had power. They drove back to the apartment.

Power still out. Apartment door still trashed.

Chuck lit a candle and listed out his new concerns at the kitchen counter.

Callista—Calli nodded, “Those are all great questions, Chuck. But we only know what we have figured out with you. We are not dead. We were staff at the QZPE event. We are anchored to you.”

Chuck kept half an eye on Gayle. “I saw Gayle with fangs and bright blue lips. She brain-dazzled an EMT right in front of me. Yes, now she looks fine. Great. What came out of that QZPE event that decided to be you three? That is a logical extrapolation. Fess up. Aliens? Be straight with me.”

Calli kept eye . “That is X-Files nonsense. No alien minds could completely masquerade as humans. It makes no sense.”

Chuck leaned towards Gayle. “Want to comment?”

Gayle reached out to Sasha, who reached out to Calli, and the three held hands. Gayle was grim. She replied, “Chuck. Our story is the same. We lost our bodies. Didn’t know what happened. Survived thinking we were dead. Thought we could revive our bodies, but failed. Then you saved us. Somehow.”

Sasha muttered something Chuck didn’t catch. “I think there was a blue snap. I’m not a brain, but the only other explanation that makes sense to me is that we are dead, but Chuck was a flash drive that pulled an imprint charge from our bodies. Some big energy charge from the QZPE jumped to us. Later, jumped and imprinted on him, like he was a solid-state drive. No one handled us before Chuck. So he can make us look however he likes. He has a copy of us. He can edit.”

Callista said, “But Chuck is not a solid-state drive. And he says there were no burn marks. And how would he handle a triple-dose charge that killed us and jumps to him without warning?”

Sasha nodded. “Ya. I don’t like the theory either. I prefer the alt-alive theory.” She shrugged at Chuck.

Chuck sighed. “OK. Small steps. I’ve been chewing on this for over an hour. Gayle. Do you agree you did something to the EMT?”

Gayle nodded. “Yes. Vicki was inexperienced. She could have been gentler. I wanted her to respect you, not cause more anxiety.” She paused. “I don’t exactly recall what I did to her.”

Chuck looked at Sasha and Calli. “Anyone here want to comment on the fangs? The blue lips? The naked wet bodies? Seems like you gals could just it to being mermaid ghosts. Aliens?”

Sasha opened her mouth. Gayle and Calli both said, “No. This is not the time for sarcasm.”

Chuck laughed softly. “Dying to know what you were going to say.”

All three shook their heads, ‘no’.

“OK, then. Here’s a test. Gayle, you influenced a living person, that’s new, so go—”

The broken door moved inward a hand’s width. Three young people came in. Women. Heavy jackets. One of them looked at Chuck. Her eyes were hard, and she walked to the kitchen. “Hey. Got a light?”

Chuck said, “Sorry, don’t smoke. Do you live—”

She smoothed a small pistol up out of her jacket pocket. “Hands on the counter. Don’t want to shoot you. Keys to your car are where? Wallet is where?”

Chuck felt his balls pull up tight. He stared at the gun. “Keys outside pocket. Wallet inside pocket of jacket. Not gonna move.”

Other things happened behind the gun woman. Soft sounds of surprise. The other two women were pawing through shelves, knocking things on the floor.

Blackout. Looters. Shit.

Then a lot of things happened at once, like an underwater ballet. All his lovers moved at once. Chuck felt an irrational spike for their safety. He actually thought, NO. He forgot the quantum gals were dead-not-dead. Or invisible. But they moved as if long-rehearsed. He felt panicked—even knowing they were chained together. Sharing thoughts.

Gayle and Sasha stood and glided towards the shadowed pair of looters. Callista stood up and slid behind the woman holding the gun pointed at Chuck’s face. Callista pushed her fingers into the back of the woman’s head. You cannot shoot my love. The gun isn’t loaded either. You forgot the ammo. This is a mistake. You might piss yourself if you don’t leave now.

Chuck saw the looter’s face go white. Her leg twitched. Then she was running for the door.

Around the apartment’s darkness, the same unspoken thought-echo resonated. Love. Not loaded. No ammo. Mistake. Leave.

Chuck glanced in time to see Sasha and Gayle with their fingers inside the heads of the other looters.

The two younger thieves bolted after the taller one. Their steps echoed in the dark hallway.

Chuck shivered for a few minutes in review. He finally said, “Thanks, my mermaids. Please forget whatever I was chattering about. That was scary.”

Gayle smiled. “I do have security training. No. I’m not a commando. Or an alien. But I guess our shared trust is handy.”

Chuck said, “You know, come Monday, it’s back to work or consulting with CNO on the unfortunate deaths. Can we just make out like teenagers tonight?”

The three ladies nodded in time. They escorted Chuck to the dark bedroom.

Even as the sex got better and better, Chuck recognized that getting loved by three telepathic quantum gals was demolishing his expectations of sex forever.

Oh well. Fuck.

He knew as well that he could never articulate to some scientist that he was in love with three bad-ass gals who could walk through walls and read his mind. Gals who might have been mermaid/scientist/computer analyst/military/alien. Or who may have crossed over from some other quantum place where they had fangs and hot blue cunt mouths.

Or maybe, as Sasha had said, he just painted them that way. Weird.

He would have a chance, many future chances to experiment. Painting them. Watching them undress. Or a quiet dinner at home, naked. Some wine. Lots of mindcumcrash. Hot blue cunt mouths. His thoughts could not keep up with what they were doing to him right now.

“Hey, Chuck.” A flashlight wove around the bedroom walls.

Shit.

“It’s Vicki. Came back to check on you, Chuck. That’s an amazing boner you have there. Need some help?” The eager smile was in the dark, but he heard it. The flashlight beam steadied on his dick.

Vicki started taking off her jacket. Then her shirt, pants, and panties. The shoes landed with thunks. The bra flew into the dark.

Chuck came a bit. The quantum gals snickered. Chuck said, “Vicki. I . You are an angel. I could really use some help here.”

Vicki grinned. “Chuck, thanks. You have no idea how fine this is. Let me help. I’ve got this. I can suck the chrome off a trailer hitch.” Naked. Cute. Petite by comparison to his mermaids. She climbed into the bed.

The quantum gals made room.

Chuck groaned. Sure. Alt-life theory. Mermaids. Just go with it. What could go wrong?

Vicki’s mouth was wet, warm, not blue.

Vicki Gorshin paid for lunch and popped a question, “You don’t have a girlfriend, but somehow I’m too young for you? I think you need your head examined. How about a trial period, give me ‘under-thirty exclusive’ for 90 days? I’d like to change your mind.”

Sasha was across the street…window shopping, but her giggle carried straight to Chuck’s head. Told you this was coming.

Don’t, Sash, give Chuck some privacy. Gayle’s firm mind was back at his office two blocks away. Her opinion carried weight. The quantum gals rarely ed him for lunch.

They didn’t eat or sleep.

Chuck slid his hand across the table and touched fingertips with Vicki. “Right. I get it. And maybe you are right. But this is new to me. I haven’t had a romance since my senior year of college. I’m way out of practice. It seems to me your potential is huge, without adding a guy ten years senior to your career.”

Vicki elaborated on her good sense as she often did. “We’re both in medical fields. But our daily routines are opposite ends of the spectrum. We can blow off a lot of stress together. And god, I’ve never fucked anyone as good as you, Chuck. It’s like you really get me. You find all my buttons.”

Callista noted. I like her a lot. I wish I’d been as smart at her age.

Chuck quietly agreed with Callista. He didn’t even know where Calli was right now. “Vicki. You have made me feel brand new. But I want to go slow.”

Callista sent. I’m listening to a lecture in Auditorium B. WRMC.

Vicki smiled. “Nothing slow about either one of us, Chuck. I wanted you to know I’m all in.”

Chuck felt his cock harden. “You didn’t need to tell me that. I’ve been convinced for at least eight weeks.”

Vicki laughed. “Next Tuesday, your buy. Can I come over tonight, or you working late?”

“I have a CNO conference call in an hour. Let me text you later. I may be given something that keeps me later.” Chuck couldn’t really guess what he was being dragged into by CNO.

That’s how it usually worked.

Vicki kissed Chuck, and they went back to their work routines.

Four computer screens, encrypted, were linked to Chuck’s. The CNO, a Vice iral Diane Darttam, and his two fellow senior pathologists at Walter Reed Med Center, both senior to him and Navy officers.

The CNO gave Chuck the surprise news that his security clearances had been changed to include all information about the QZPE Complex, at request through the CNO office.

Chuck was puzzled and immediately worried this had something to do with the quantum gals, so he asked, “Why, sir? My field study didn’t reveal much.”

The CNO nodded, “Dr. Aston, you’ve volunteered for fast response field work several times in two years. Of the two dozen pathologists on staff, you are single and familiar with the complex. Plus, you’ve already seen the worst of what we will throw at you. We wanted you cleared because we showed you our dirty laundry. Now let’s move on. We’ve had several recommendations made after our crew loss at QZPE. On your screen now.”

Chuck read the list. Seven items. “I see. Interesting.”

The CNO did not waste words. “Your opinion?”

Chuck read them again. “Well, none of what I saw and reported gives me facts to modify any of this. I wonder about number 5. Removal of crew at QZPE events? That does not seem practical.”

CNO laughed, “Not to the Navy either. But while no one trusts a remote control of the events, there is a hardwire system link now. And we will always have three crew at the complex even if we remove the rest for events.”

Chuck nodded. “I have no other observations, sir.” Dammit. I feel bad for the families of those three crew sticking to that duty.

The CNO said, “Dr. Aston and I will finish this alone.”

Three screens closed.

The CNO looked at Chuck. “I went out to every family of the deceased crew. Met them. Asked them to be resolute. We have no public information to share. It was never the Navy’s call to put this facility into play, or to put it at the bottom of the Atlantic. But I felt that my Navy and my destroyer crews would want me to do that visit.”

Fuck. Did the CNO read that duty question on my face? Chuck blushed.

The CNO was a good poker player. “Dr. Aston. The White House is going ahead with this project. There will be another Phase 2 event soon. Phase 3 will follow, even if we lose more people. The process works. We can harvest energy so we will push ahead. Feel free to come to my office to read the reports for every dead crew member. Maybe you will see something no one else has. The Chinese have just broken ground on their own QZPE and can move faster than we can on some things. They are not building it under the sea. Our high-level intelligence folks tell me the Chinese think our precautions are unnecessary.”

The CNO looked at Chuck. “I have a bad feeling about that. And I regret needing you to go back to QZPE to examine the dead if we lose more crew . But I will ask you to. You do not have to agree to it, even if you were Navy. Keep that in mind. I look forward to your comments on those reports. Any questions?”

Underwater dreams? Ask? No. Talk to the gals. “No. Sir. Thank you.”

“CNO, out.”

Chuck summarized his concerns to Gayle, Sasha, and Callista regarding the QZPE project going forward. “I’m not in on the big decisions. I think I’m at the wrong end of the telescope. But going forward, more people are going to die from this project. I wonder if telling CNO about you three will save lives. I’m seeing this as a ‘do no harm’ situation, ladies. I want your advice.”

Chuck noted they were not surprised. He suspected they might even have known his mind before he did.

Callista said, “Well, we don’t expect you to betray your ethics, Chuck. If that is what you are thinking. You could argue our alt-lives don’t offset human lives. I have come to believe we are still alive, myself. But it also appears we are not human at all now. No food. No sleep. No material bodies. As Sasha once theorized, we may only be copies of the women who died below the sea.”

Sasha added, “And while the Navy may be angry you didn’t volunteer the information sooner, what bothers me is the chance they may restrict your freedom. Study you. Or experiment on you/us. For ‘national security’ reasons.”

Gayle spoke very softly. “I consider my Navy oath operative still. So my safety doesn’t come before the living. From what I know of the project, which isn’t the quantum science side, the Chinese facility seems to be taking a risk with the entire world. I don’t like it.”

Chuck nodded at the last. “I don’t like that part either. The current President didn’t start this project, but appears convinced American lives can be spent on it. I see no way telling the CNO about you three helps the project, but Callista, you know the science side best. Call your alt-life a new form of living. Or call your deaths a bizarre way to discover unsuspected things about Zero Point Energy. What could knowing about you three do to help the project? I don’t have a clue.”

Chuck sipped his coffee at the kitchen counter while everyone took a minute.

Sasha said, “Look. I think trust in the project heads means they’ve actually looked at the data, including the deaths from all angles. None of us have all that information. From what you have access to, the project is green despite the danger. How does Chuck being able to see and touch us change that data?”

Calli’s voice was flat. “That’s his concern. Set aside whether we are copies or aliens or just bizarre accidents, our alt-life may spark some think tank with a brand-new different approach. Yes, Chuck?”

Chuck nodded. “Thought seems logical. Not rational, maybe.” Chuck looked at Calli. “When you hypnotized me, you later described it as a loop. Explain?”

“Not sure I can. It’s like us moving away from you has elastic tension stress. Sasha prefers being pretty close. Gayle and I can wander much further without stress. We don’t know why. We could study that. If you tell the science team , they will certainly examine that. When you were hypnotized, there was a sudden increase in your emotions overlapping with mine.” Callista paused.

“And mine.” Gayle and Sasha said at the same time.

Chuck just nodded.

Callista said, “Your emotions were an impressive catalyst. Sexual. Hot. Compelling. You could say your waveform amplified, and we followed. We were pulled into alignment. And was the blackout a coincidence? We can’t say. We all crashed out.”

Gayle added, “And when quantum gals crash, we don’t recall anything. Just not there for a while. Until you wake up, we don’t exist?”

Chuck said, “But when I’m asleep, you all are still around.” He refilled his coffee.

“The brain still is running when you sleep.” Callista smiled. “Fact.”

Chuck smiled. “So hey, if we were voting on believing our secret helps save people from what happened to you, how would you vote?”

Sasha simply said, “No. People I don’t know are making decisions about my body. Just no.”

Gayle was quick as well. “Yes. Tell them. Another fact in a big pile of questions. They could find meaning.”

Chuck watched Callista. She knew the most about the background science.

Callista looked at Sasha and Gayle and said nothing for several minutes. “There is something present that has a vote. The waveform seems intelligent.”

Chuck blinked. “It does?”

Callista chose her words carefully. “You’ve dreamed about the ocean and mermaids. Let’s say none of those things are what your brain is actually hearing, tasting, or smelling, but it is the waveform. I see moments where we act without knowing how to do something, like influencing Vicki. Like stopping the looters.”

“Oh,” Chuck had not understood that, but now he ed his surprise. Knowledge that came from nowhere. And Gayle had changed while he was awake. Blue. Fangs. Dripping water. Changed back to normal while he got his keys to go for coffee.

Gayle nodded slowly. “I see. You are tugging a thread that says something did cross over to Earth? Something more savage, cunning?”

Sasha frowned. “Alien?”

Callista said, “No. The easier answer is that something new was created on this side, with the three of us as ingredients, and some catalyst from Chuck handling our bodies. Chuck imagines mermaids. But you could just as well say, id. Jung would wonder if we are quantum powering our Shadow and Collective Unconscious. That would fit with the sexual power.”

Chuck said, “Keep going. How does it vote? Why does it hide?”

Callista smiled, “Not my field. The Shadow hides because it is usually the unaccepted parts of ourselves. Aggression. Sexuality. Selfishness. Savage could be an adjective for it. The Collective, well, that’s a bit more out there. Thinkers call it the evolution of our mind. Mind structure inherited, built over generations, and quite…hardwired? A deep mind imprint below the self, which we build by living. In theory, it has no culture, just patterns of instinct.”

Sasha still frowned. “Creepy. Why would we give it a vote? Does it have ethics? Can it talk?”

Chuck had heard Gayle talk to Vicki. Chuck looked Callista in the eye. “Did you see what Gayle became? Did you, Sasha?”

They both shook their heads no. Gayle said, “Maybe I saw it. I’m not sure. You’ve described it, and it doesn’t scare me.”

Sasha rubbed at her arms. Said nothing.

Chuck discarded the voting idea and thought for a couple of days about the Collective Unconscious. In doing so, he realized how hampered he was by his situation.

He lived in facts, science, and method. Scrutiny and integrity would keep you whole. Chuck saw that he and Sasha were uncomfortable with…the unexplained. Gayle and Callista had more agile minds. Callista could theorize in directions he ired but would not have thought of.

If the Collective Unconscious could talk, would you want it to?

Chuck made excuses to Vicki. Too many unanswered questions. He blamed work, which was true. She understood. “But call me.”

The foursome agreed to a test. They got in the car on Saturday and went to Sandy Point State Park in Annapolis. Chuck felt the near water would lend some clarity to any result.

They spent time on the beach for a couple of hours. The park closed at dusk.

Chuck examined the lifeguard lines of sight and picked the waterline that could let him stand with his pants rolled up and his watershoes in the Chesapeake Bay. The sun was low, and the beach was almost empty.

Chuck said, “OK, Callista. Let’s see what the Collective Unconscious has to say.”

All the quantum gals were in the water. Callista stood with the sun over her shoulder. “So let’s all relax. You are a good man, Chuck. Do not worry . No power outage today. No blackout. Just a few moments of hypnosis.”

Chuck smiled, “Yes. Sure. Good point.”

“Focus on the horizon, not the sun.”

Chuck nodded.

“My voice smooths the way. This is a good idea. Relax. Listen to the waves. Lovely blue here. We all want some answers. Let’s look deeper.”

“Yes.”

“More relaxed. More blue. Horizon soft. It’s ok if it fades.”

“Yes.”

“Breathe. Hold a minute. Breathe. Let the muscles fade.”

Callista let that go for a handful of minutes. “Very good. So relaxed.”

Chuck felt deep already. Lighter.

“Listen to the waves. They are the whispers of the world.”

Lighter still. Callista was great at this.

“So soothing. Blue waves. Blue shadows. We can feel you drifting.”

Drifting.

“Relaxed. Blue.”

Blue.

“Soothing. Breathe. Blue.”

So blue.

“Just more shadows now. More blue. Deeper. You are looking for the blue.”

Chuck felt the ocean. He was deep.

“Drifting. Down. Deeper. Are the mermaids there?”

It was dark. He didn’t see them. “No.”

“Be patient. Bring them to you.” Callista sounded older. Wise.

Chuck felt a hand on his naked ass. Fingers. Wet. Sharp nails. Blue lacquer. “Blue. Here.” He breathed. The ocean was warm. Arousing.

“Good. Shadows. You are safe. I feel your arousal. Chuck. Are you good?”

Chuck liked her bedroom voice. “Ya.” He drifted. He felt the hot blue cunt mouth sucking his cock. Good. “So wet. Hot sucking mouth. Blue lipstick. Salt. She loves to cum.”

The mermaids made a groaning waveform. Hot. Underwater, the sound would carry for miles.

Three female voices, “Chuck’s there. Oh, god. He is everything.”

Callista softly, “Calm. Now. She loves to cum. We are getting dragged in. Steady. Hold my hands.”

Power. Snap. Explosive. Blue.

The control room went so blue their eyes hurt. Brain. Hot. Hot blue cunt mouths. Hot. Pain. Mindcumcrash.

Chuck pulled them close. Warm. Hold me. Hot mouths. Latching on to him. So ready to cum. He took them in rotation, knowing who needed it most. Feeling who feared the unexplained and could be stronger in his heat.

They were not dead. They never died. They were more alive than he was. He could not imagine being so alive, but they wanted him. He opened his eyes. The waves were over his head. Easy shadows. Moving. He drifted between them. Their hot pale blue hands on his chest and ass. He grabbed and pulled them all tight.

His vision saw through the light and blue. They were lovers he knew, and they were blue he knew. Hot that he loved. His cock throbbed, and Callista sucked. He wanted to cum. She wanted it.

I want it so bad. Cum in me. Fill my hot blue cunt mouth.

Chuck tried. He felt the pain of trying. Not ready yet.

Gayle and Sasha moved their hot blue cunt pussies onto his hands. His fingers felt a moment of pain. Scald. Then it was shared heat. Shared lightning. He felt his bones light up. Some pain. Saw the bones blue through his skin.

Gayle and Sasha writhed and held his shoulders. Blue nails bit his flesh. Gayle threw back her head, mouth open, fangs white beneath her neon blue lips. Sasha twisted on his fingers and sucked her hot blue cunt mouth onto Gayle’s matching neon lips.

Now he was close. He thrust his hands into their hot blue cunt pussies.

Callista orgasmed, leading first, and Gayle and Sasha followed, cumming, sucking, cumming again. Chuck filled Calli’s mouth. She groaned and sucked. He didn’t stop cumming.

So real.

He didn’t want it to end.

Sink deeper.

Underwater ballet. They slid through the water and hip to hip to hip arrayed now for his cock. He pumped each of them in hot blue cunt rotation.

Pussy. Pump.

Pussy. Pump.

Pussy. Pump.

Pussy. Pump.

Pussy. Pump.

Pussy. Pump.

Chuck heard a sound at a distance. Not metal music. Not a voice. Exactly.

A trio of dolphins flashed past them. Circled. Sang. He felt the song on his chest.

Wait. Was he breathing? Yes. He felt his heart steady. Steady enough. He would finish. He would breed his mermaids. Now. Today.

A dolphin swooped and stopped in front of his face. Nodded at him. Chuck smiled.

Ya. Breed them.

The dolphin shook her head ‘no’. Bumped his forehead hard with her nose. Bumped again. He jetted cum into pussy and kept going. More. Hotter.

He lost the hot blue cunt rhythm. He was deep. Then dolphins and blue lacquered nails were grabbing him and pulling him up. Up. Up.

They all broke the surface. Waves. Big waves.

Night sky.

The dolphins reoriented and pulled him along. He was exhausted. Shaking. The three dolphins kept close and pulled. He didn’t think he could hold on.

“I’ve got this.” Gayle. She slid into his head, and his strength came back. Then Sasha. Calli, too. His grip fixed on the back fin. They were inside him. Restoring him.

They got to the waves on shore.

Walked slowly out. The dolphins sang something. They laughed.

His clothes and shoes were gone. How? He cut his feet on the oyster shells on the beach. Pain. Sand. Dark beach. What time was it?

Damn. Fuck. He felt half-drowned and ecstatic.

His watch was gone. What time was it?

Too dark. It took minutes to find the car. Then he saw the three naked mermaids dripping and leaning on the car. Long wet hair. Blue neon lips at mouth and cunt. They glimmered in the dark, all those sweet lips. Bioluminescence. He immediately knew he was going to fuck them again. Always fuck them. Always.

No car keys. Long walk home. Gates to the park were closed.

At the ranger office, he was handed a towel. Made a call. Vicki laughed and told him she’d be there in an hour. She wanted the story.

Chuck told her she’d get one. Told her she would not believe it. Told her where his spare car keys and office cell phone were at the apartment. She had the key to his place already.

She’d see him soon. “You better be horny.” Vicki hung up.

He was very horny. And he had an hour.

He asked the ranger. “Stomach is rolling. Can I use your bathroom?”

The guy looked fifty. He was amused. “Sure. I close at midnight, but I’ll stay until your girl gets here. Drink lots of water. Here’s a bag of Oreos. Eat something.”

“Thanks.” Chuck went into the bathroom. Very small. His mermaids were waiting. Wet. Dripping on the floor.

Chuck sent, Did you see dolphins? How did we get so far into the bay? I love you all, my hot blue cunts. Not telling the Navy. Decided. I may tell Vicki.

They laughed. Dripping. They squeezed hot blue against him. Sasha grabbed his dick. Daring man. Fuck us.

He fucked the mermaids hot blue until he heard Vicki’s voice with the ranger.

Chuck walked out. Hugged Vicki. Vicki handed him shorts, shoes, and a shirt.

He thanked the ranger as they left. He kissed Vicki on her hot, warm mouth. “You are officially my girlfriend.”

Vicki nodded, “Thought so. Smart man.”