An old friend of Ws, who just happens to be a high-level federal agent, asks him to help free a group of mind-controlled sex slaves. As is often the case, he is uniquely suited for the job.
At 13,600 words, this story is a bit longer than most of my posts, but it really doesn’t easily divide into separate posts. Like all of my W stories, there is a lot of action/adventure as well as erotica in the six chapters of this story. If you are looking for just the sex stuff, skip down to Chapter Three. The Mechanical Orgy is 4,500 words, which is the typical size of my regular posts.
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WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life.
All characters involved in sexual activity in this story are over the age of 18. If you are under the age of 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century.
Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2023 by The Technician.
Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly forbidden.
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Chapter One - A Meeting with Lacy
As I sat slowly sipping my coffee in the dimly-lit diner, I pulled from my pocket the small business card which had brought me here. The card itself was a very pale shade of pink. It had an embossed edge framing it and five embossed pillars in the very center. There was nothing printed on the face of the card. On the back, however, was a neatly-hand written note which said, “W, KoZee Kup Diner, 7:30 pm.” It was signed simply “Marco”.
I was in DC for other business when a delivery messenger brought the card to my hotel room door. When I asked who had sent it he answered, “Benjamin Franklin... and his brother.” He paused a moment before saying, “She said you would know.” Then he turned and walked away.
I knew. I hadn’t heard from Lacy McGrath is several years. She was no longer a federal agent. She was well above that now. Publicly, she was the head of a super secret branch of Homeland Security. Privately, she was also the Chief Mistress of the Mansion Club, whose symbol just happens to be the five pillars embossed on her card.
I was still slowly turning the card in my hands when a soft voice from behind me said, “Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. I stole your idea for a business card.”
“But you are far from mediocre,” I replied. When Lacy looked confused, I motioned her into the booth and said, “The complete quote from Oscar Wilde is, ‘Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery that mediocrity can pay to greatness.”
“Why am I not surprised that you would know that full quote,” she said with a strained smile as she settled herself into the booth. After the waiter brought her a steaming cup of black coffee, she took a sip and looked around the small diner. The booths on either side of us were empty. The stools at the counter directly across from us were occupied by two men and two women who looked like they had just stepped off a recruiting poster for American Mercenaries.
“I assume they are with you,” I said tilting my head toward the counter. She nodded and I continued, “I slipped the waiter two fifties and told him it was rental on the two booths on either side of us until I left.”
“You are as paranoid as ever,” she said flatly, once again trying to smile.
“Says the woman with four heavily-armed bodyguards,” I replied. “... who set up this meeting because she needs something from me.”
Her face went totally blank. Her voice lost all expression as she said flatly, “Have you ever heard of The Community of Eden?
I shook my head and she continued, “It’s a sex cult. Their leader, who calls himself The Enlightened Son of Seth, has some mystical hold over a lot of young women... and men. He uses them to seduce political, military, and economic leaders and then he blackmails them.”
“Sounds like a job for the FBI,” I answered curtly, but she shook her head and said, “Nothing can be proven. And he makes sure that all of the young women who are actively giving out sex are at least eighteen years of age so we can’t go after him from that angle. There are hints that he might provide some Epstein services, but we have no hard evidence of that.”
“So what do you want from me?” I asked.
“The Enlightened One,” she replied, “holds regular... orgies for lack of a better word, but there is no sex– at least not sex between two or more people. These are mechanical orgies making use of almost every modern or ancient form of mechanical stimulation. The Sybian factory has had to work overtime to keep up with the demand.”
“And you think I can provide better machinery?” I said with a laugh.
“That is without question,” she said, also laughing. “But can you provide the type of machinery that Homeland Security would like The Community of Eden to order?”
“I would have to see the warrants first,” I said. “This is on US soil and I assume The Enlightened One is a US citizen.”
“Scrupulous as ever,” she said as she took a folder out of the black satchel she was carrying and slid it across the table. Then she added, “I think you will especially appreciate the last page.”
The folder contained several pages of authorizations from federal, state, and international courts to “surveil by whatever means necessary any and all members or leaders of The Community of Eden.” I had never seen such a broad search warrant, if that was what this was, but it evidently passed legal muster because the opinion of several federal judges was also attached.
The last page was a short paragraph that said, “Homeland Security, or its designated operators, are authorized to use lethal force, if necessary, to thwart the actions of the leaders or members of The Community of Eden.” I recognized the top signature as the President of the United States. The series of initials which covered most of the rest of the page I assumed were the Joint Chiefs of Staff. Such high level authorization was normally reserved for assassination orders.
“I don’t want it to come to this,” she said. “And you are our only way in to find out what is really going on there.”
“What do you know about this Son of Seth?” I asked.
She laughed and then grimaced before saying, “Practically nothing. His real name is David Allen Carter. He was known as a super nerd through high school and college. He has an advanced degree in biology and another in specialized computer science, but never held a job. Right after college he started collecting followers and calling himself The Esteemed Son of Seth.”
“What do you know about how he operates?” I asked.
“Not much,” she replied. “We know nothing about his internal workings. No one has ever left the cult... No one! The few men... or women... who have been extorted and will talk about it say that they were invited to one of the parties and went to their room afterwards with an Adam or an Eve. All of the members of the community take the name Adam or Eve when they join. So it is Adam Mark or Eve Susan or whatever. The targets didn’t remember anything after that until they got the images and the very veiled blackmail notes.”
“So can’t you get them on blackmail?” I asked.
Lacy laughed. “They are very careful. The notes just say something like, ‘I thought you would like a remembrance of our evening together,’ and are signed by the Adam or Eve who was with them.” She frowned and took a deep breath before saying, “That would never hold up in court. One judge I checked with said if that was blackmail, then so was every amusement ride photo that showed someone with their date... or their mistress.”
She paused and then continued, “It isn’t until a couple weeks later that they get a message from the same person saying that they have severe personal problems and need money. Again, not legally blackmail, but everyone knows what is at stake, especially since a specific amount is stated in the message. We are totally stymied.”
“So you want me to go to one of these parties and try to sell The Enlightened Son of Seth some erotic machines with built in bugs to spy on him.”
“I love working with you,” Lacy said with a smile. “I never have to explain what we want.”
I sat thinking for a few moments. “It would have to be something well above anything on the open market,” I said slowly, “and it would have to be at a bargain price... not too cheap or it would look like a trap, but cheap enough to be enticing.” I smiled at her and said, “Someone would have to cover my losses in the sale as well as my time and other expenses.”
Her voice– and face– became very devoid of emotion or expression as she said, “If we have high enough authorization to kill him, I don’t think you have to worry about what you are authorized to spend.”
“I want it in writing,” I said softly. “Not that I don’t trust YOU, but if really important people are under this guy’s enlightened thumb, a lot of things could go sideways.”
She pulled another folder out of her satchel and slid it across the table. “This is your copy of all of the authorizations, plus one.”
I opened the folder. The packet looked identical except for one loose page at the front. It contained only a few sentences. “As a matter of utmost national security, Mister W is hereby authorized to surveil, interact with, and neutralize any member or leader of The Community of Eden up to and including using lethal force. Because of the extreme threat to our nation posed by this cult, this authorization overrides all local, state, and, in some cases, federal laws which would impede Mister W’s efforts to totally neutralize the insidious actions of The Enlightened Son of Seth, his successors, and other members of The Community of Eden.” The page contained all of the signatures and initials from the last page of the packet.
“Wow,” I said, truly surprised. “This is the equivalent of a declaration of war. Why not just bomb their compound and be done with it?”
“That was considered,” Lacy said with a grimace. “But the sons and daughters of too many important people are involved in the cult. And we need to know for sure how this cult is controlling them. Standard deprogramming efforts haven’t worked, even when done by specialists from Big Brother.”
She looked me directly in the eyes and I said curtly, “Don’t say it. Don’t you dare say it.”
“Don’t say what?” she said, obviously flustered.
“What you were about to say,” I replied. “The last time someone said I was their only hope, I came within a whisker of being blown up.”
“But you are,” she said flatly. “Don’t think we haven’t tried with our own agents.”
“How many agents have you lost?” I asked.
“Five,” she replied flatly. “They are now Eve Lorain, Eve Alicia, Eve Gloria, Adam Seth, and Adam Frank.” She paused and then said, “And all five had extensive anti-duress training.”
“Well,” I said as I picked up the folder, “let’s hope that Adam W doesn’t decide to join The Community of Eden.”
She snapped her fingers and her bodyguards came over to the table. She stood up between them and they walked out to the black SUV which was idling at the entrance. I walked over to the counter with four more fifties held in my hand and asked the man behind the counter, “You ever see the Men in Black movies?”
He nodded and I continued, “That lady is much more dangerous than Agents Alpha through Zed combined. And she doesn’t have a neuralizor. If she– or I– find out that you told anyone about anything you will just disappear... forever.”
I dropped the four fifties on the counter and walked out to my car.
Chapter Two - The Ark of Eden
You would think that a diabolical cult like The Community of Eden would keep a low profile, but such was not the case. In fact, it was almost the opposite. They had a website and used popup ads on Facebook, Snapchat, Reddit, Tiktok, and other social media. Obviously, they didn’t say that they were a evil, mind-controlling cult. Instead they extolled the virtues of the great life of peace and contentment which could be found by following the wisdom of The Esteemed Son of Seth.
Several different contact avenues were presented, but I used none of them. Instead, I sent an email to the billing channel used by the local Sybian dealer. I knew her and called upon her patriotic spirit to help me set up an appointment to talk to The Son of Seth about some new machines. As expected she told me that I could sit on one of her machines and swivel ‘til hell froze over. Her business spirit was much more open to my request, however. The price we settled on was probably the equivalent of a couple years profit for her, but I effectively had an unlimited budget... and it wasn’t my money.
It only took three tries to get a response from an Adam Richard who gave me a telephone number and a time to call. I did. The man I spoke to did not identify himself but listened to my initial sales pitch and invited me to a “gathering” at The Community of Eden’s main campus. “Be prepared to stay at least overnight,” he said in his annoyingly mellifluous voice.
I arrived in a brand new, white Jeep Gladiator with a matching cover and cap. If these Jeeps look bastardized with an open pickup bed, they look doubly so with a matching bed cap. I was hoping that the unique look of my ride would cause any security to be slightly distracted as they searched it, but that was not the case. I was stopped at the gate and four men and two women went over that truck with a fine-toothed comb. They didn’t just put mirrors under it, they drove it up on two long ramps and the two women slid under it with flashlights and some sort of wand sensor. They even unloaded the skid containing my display machine from the back and subjected it to the same rigorous examination.
The tailgate had been modified so it opened even with the raised floor, so that helped, but someone very familiar with the Gladiator might see that something wasn’t right. Fortunately none of them were intimately familiar with a Jeep pickup so they didn’t realize that the floor of the bed had been raised by about three inches. None of the electronics hidden there were active in any way and the metal of the weapons was obscured by all the metal of the frame and truck bed so nothing triggered their scans.
When I reviewed my plans with Lacy, she had balked a little at the cost of the Jeep Gladiator until I asked her, “How long would it take you to notice that the bed of a Ford F150 had been raised three inches?”
She sighed slightly and said, “Right, as usual.” Then she said, “Don’t bother clearing any other plans or expenses with me. I trust you... I have to.”
Despite their thorough search, the weird-ass Gladiator did what it was supposed to do, which was confuse the hell out of the security people. After everyone was satisfied I wasn’t hiding anything in my truck, or in my suitcase, or on my person, I was told to follow the little golf cart up to the Ark of Eden. I laughed inwardly at them calling the main facility an ark until I rounded the last corner. Sitting there among a village of small houses and one large building was an ark well above Biblical proportions. The golf cart threaded its way over to the large building where an open loading bay door was awaiting us. It closed after we drove inside.
“You will be staying on the second floor,” my escort said in an almost sing-song voice. “Your equipment will be brought up to you.”
I pointed to the skid in the back of the truck and said, “This equipment needs to be properly assembled and tested. I can’t do that in my room. Why can’t I just work here?”
He cocked his head so that he almost looked like a puppy awaiting a treat. Then he said, “That is allowed, but you will need an escort to and from your room.” He handed me a small card and said, “Put this in the entrance lock at the elevator when you need to go up to your room. Someone will come down to escort you.”
I got out my tool boxes and began the assembly of my masterpiece. Before beginning, I carefully covered the floor and the back of the truck with tarps. I wasn’t going to be working with any liquids and the device didn’t need to be protected from the dust on the floor, but the tarp concealed the back of the truck from the security cameras.
It took me about two hours to get everything ready. The machine itself only needed to be unfolded from the travel position and connected together. The rest of the time I spent looking like I was adjusting things. I had to keep climbing back into my truck for a specific tool or at least that is what it was supposed to look like to whoever was watching me through the cameras which were mounted all around me. What I was really doing was retrieving everything I needed from within the floor of the Jeep. By the time I was finished, the bugs were in place but dormant, and I had transferred to a new hiding place the necessary weaponry and other things I might need to remain just W, not Adam W.
After everything was in place, I pulled a small, four-wheel, white plastic cart out of the back of the truck and loaded the machine and two of my toolboxes onto it. I rolled everything over to the elevator and inserted the card the original escort had given me. As expected, the two men who came down to get me carefully searched the tool boxes and gave my machine a close inspection. They did not, however, notice that the base of the cart was a little thicker than it really needed to be. Had they used wands, they might have triggered on the guns and other equipment enclosed in the base, but they probably would have attributed that to the steel in the machine itself.
The room was the equivalent of an upscale hotel suite. I was told to stay there until the gathering was ready to begin. “Don’t forget I have to set this up,” I said firmly to Adam William.
He nodded and replied, “Don’t worry, we will take you down there in plenty of time.”
I lay on the bed and pretended to scroll through social media on my cellphone. I was hoping that there weren’t any active monitors sniffing for electronics because the special phone-charger base I had plugged in on the side table was actually locating any audio or video recording devices in the room and displaying them on my phone. As expected, there was one in each wall and three directly over the bed for a total of seven devices. I breathed a sigh of relief when no hard wired microphones were detected. My jammers could neutralize them also, but it would be harder to explain why they failed. After a few minutes, I placed the phone in the slightly oversized charger stand on the bedside table. Then I actually went to sleep.
A knock on the door awakened me. “Mister W,” Adam William said softly, “it is time for you... and your machine... to come down to the gathering.”
Chapter Three - A Mechanical Orgy
I followed Adam William and– as strange as it sounds– Adam Adam down the hallway to the elevator. As I pushed my machine cart into the elevator, I expected to go down to a lower floor but instead we went all the way up to the top. The display said “Roof,” but it was actually a huge, glass enclosed room with large fronds and even palm trees dotted throughout. The leafy fronds were real, as were the flowers which lent their scent to the room. The palm trees, however, were very excellent fakes. They might have fooled even me except for the fact that they were all exactly identical. And every one of them had two identical breaks in the bark covering the trunk about a foot below the top. The marks looked like some of the bark covering had sloughed off or been struck by something, but I recognized the characteristic slightly-larger-than pinhole openings of a high grade surveillance camera. Everything that happened within this glass penthouse garden would be recorded.
“Please leave your equipment here out of the way,” Adam Adam said softly. After I had set my cart, covered by a white cloth, against the wall, he escorted me to a table near the middle of the room. The very center of the room was empty, with the tables arranged in concentric circles around the open middle. The large clear dome of the center segment gave a very clear view of the sky and of the huge Ark of Eden which loomed over everything.
One table was almost twice as large as all the others. There was a large, ornate chair placed so that it had the best view of the open area. My seat was exactly opposite that throne. There were water glasses already at each spot at the table. I stood for a moment apparently looking around the room in wonder, but I was actually waiting for my escort to leave so I could switch water glasses with someone three seats away from me. I chose that one because the two ice cubes in it were more than half-melted. The two cubes in my glass were barely melted showing that the glass was recently placed on the table. You’re not paranoid if there really are people out to get you.
Shortly after I sat down, people began to stream into the room. The Adams and Eves were easy to spot because they all wore the white, flowing robes of the community. Mixed among them, two or three to every table, were men and women in normal clothing. Not all of the clothing was Eastern. Some of the non-Eve’s wore gowns or other apparel that was obviously from the East. Most of the men wore Western-style suits, but a few wore the more ornate formal wear of India or Japan or other nations in the Eastern sphere. I suspected one of the gentlemen was Russian from the padded shoulders of his old-fashioned suit coat.
I was pleased to note that an Eve sat at the place where from which I had switched my water glass. I would have felt guilty if I had accidentally poisoned another guest... but I still would have switched the glasses. She was a rather beautiful young woman with long blonde hair. I was hoping that the water was not really spiked, or that at least it was spiked with a drug only intended to slightly incapacitate me.
After everyone was seated, a huge gong was rung and a soft-spoken voice sounded through the speaker system, “Please rise for The Esteemed Son of Seth.”
I’m not sure what I expected, but the Esteemed One was dressed in the same flowing robe as all of the Adams and Eves except his robe was a deep saffron yellow. He was about six feet tall and walked in short quick steps which made it appear that he was gliding across the floor. His light brown hair was combed straight back and hung down to his shoulders in the back. A short, very well-trimmed beard covered his face. It wasn’t until he arrived at the table that I could see that there were brighter, slightly more yellow, lines which traced their way down the robe from the neckline like sunbeams shining through a cloud. The overall effect of his entrance and presence was very calculated and extremely effective.
He continued his very smooth pace to his chair which was being held back by two rather beefy Adams. He stood before it for a moment and then sat down. The two Adams silently slid the chair into place.
“You may be seated,” the voice over the speakers said and everyone sat down.
A bevy of naked Adams and Eves came running out carrying plates of food. The Enlightened One smiled slightly at me and said, “Our novitiates have given up all things of the outside world but have not yet earned the right to wear the robes of the community. Thus they are naked.” He smiled at the others around the table and continued, “Of course, nakedness is not shameful here at the Community of Eden as it is in the outside world.”
I remained silent since I had no idea what he would consider the appropriate response. Instead I just nodded as if I understood.
The food was vegetarian, primarily beans of one sort or another. I really prefer a good steak, but the entire dish was very well prepared and the mix of herbs and spices made it palatable. We ate in basic silence interrupted only by the servers coming by to refill our water glasses. I said, “I’m fine,” and declined the refill.
After we ate, the naked Adams and Eves again scurried out and removed the plates. The voice on the speaker said rather softly, “For dessert we have your choice of non-dairy ice creams accompanied by a symphony of passion.”
There were two servers at our table. One started with the Enlightened One, the other started with me. There were a dozen or so flavors on the tray arranged in a rather odd pattern. I let my hand wander over to the one to which my eye seemed to be drawn, but when I noticed the Adam’s smile, I moved back two places and ***********ed a different cup. His faced showed his disappointment. Whatever the Son of Seth used to control them, it didn’t improve their poker face. I watched as he moved around the table to serve the other guests. The cup of ice cream which I refused was pulled to the back of the tray and almost hidden by his hand.
I waited until The Enlightened One started his dessert before taking my first taste. It was actually pretty good. Then I heard something behind me that sounded like running feet. I turned in my seat to see forty-eight naked Adam novitiates running into the center of the room carrying Sybians. Special carrying poles had been mounted to the bottoms of the devices so they could be carried like an old English sedan chair. There were four Adams to each Sybian. The Adams quickly arranged the twelve Sybians around the circle almost like numbers on a clock. There were floor plugs alongside each machine to provide power.
As the naked men ran out, twelve naked women ran in and each straddled one of the machines. Before they sat down, I could see that some of the machines had just the vibration plate; some had the vaginal dildo; and some had both the vaginal dildo and the anal probe. The two-pronged machines were at twelve, three, six, and nine, assuming that The Enlightened One’s table was the top of the clock.
A heavy, thrumming hum soon filled the room. I could tell that the machines were on a very low setting, but all of the women soon began moaning softly.
“What do you think, Mister W?” The Enlightened One asked.
“Impressive,” I replied, “but what is the purpose?”
He laughed. “There is no purpose,” he said smiling broadly. “That is the purpose. These novitiates follow orders that have no purpose or meaning. They debase themselves in front of their Master and the entire community plus invited outsiders merely to show that they want to be a full part of The Community of Eden.”
I turned in my chair to fully view the entire floor. The moans and groans were getting louder now. A couple of the women had reached up and were mauling their own nipples with their fingers.
The Enlightened One snapped his fingers and the Adam standing next to his chair held up a remote and pushed a button. The deep thrumming got louder and changed slightly in pitch. The moans and cries of the twelve women also got louder and changed in pitch.
Twice more he snapped his fingers and twice more the Sybians were stepped up. The cries and moans were becoming very loud. Suddenly the woman on the ten o’clock Sybian, which I think was just a vibration plate, screamed out loudly and obviously went into orgasm. The Son of Seth frowned and slowly shook his head.
He again snapped his fingers and the Sybians now roared. The women were writhing and groaning and twisting on their mounts, but none of them attempted to get off the Sybian. Then The Enlightened One said loudly, “You have my permission.”
The noise of a dozen women orgasming at the same time is almost deafening. I noticed that several of the male guests and a couple of the women suddenly sat very straight and seemed exceedingly uncomfortable.
I was also uncomfortable. What I was seeing was a Master training a slave to be totally obedient to him.
He clapped his hands loudly and the four dozen Adams-to-be came running back out, unplugged the Sybians, picked them up with the pseudo-Eve still aboard, and then trotted back out of the room.
“What do you think now, Mister W?” The Enlightened One asked.
Sometimes you need to go with your gut, and my gut was telling me that I needed to tell the truth. “There are three stages to the Sybian test of control. The novitiate Eve starts out on the vibrating pad, then moves up to the rotating vaginal dildo, and finally to the double penetration model. They probably have practice sessions with you or another of the higher ranking members directing them until they are ready for their first public demonstration. By the time they pass the final test, they are very dedicated, submissive slaves.”
The Son of Seth laughed and then said, “I like you, Mister W. I think you understand me... perhaps too well.” He clapped his hands loudly and then looking directly at me said, “Let’s see what you think of our next presentation.”
The naked Adams again entered the room. This time they were carrying what looked like very strange stationary bicycles. In place of a tire, the rim of the bicycle had a series of what looked like rubber tongues mounted on flexible rubber shafts The rider of each bicycle was intended to lie back on a cushioned pad with the wheel between their legs.
The pedals directly turned the large wheel but a chain went to the very front where a small generator of some sort was mounted. A pole with lights spaced every few inches was mounted next to the generator. A larger light was mounted at the very top of the pole.
Twelve naked Eves walked slowly out and settled themselves down on the weird bicycles. As they pedaled, the wheels began to turn faster and faster. With each turn of the wheel the tongues brushed against a sponge at the bottom that was evidently soaked in oil and then came up between the Eve’s legs.
At first only the bottom couple of lights were lighting, but as the Eves pedaled faster, the lights slowly climbed the pole until the light on the very top was lit. When all of the top lights lit, The Enlightened One said firmly, “Five minutes, but if any of the lights go out, the timer starts again.”
All of the Eves were groaning loudly, but they weren’t groans of passion. They were obviously groans of exertion as each Eve strained to keep the top light lit while at the same time strained to keep themselves from having an orgasm. Several of them were strongly pinching themselves on the sides of their thighs trying to hold on for just a few more minutes.
When there were twenty seconds left, The Enlightened One began counting down the seconds. You could see the strain and effort on every Eve’s face as the count got down to five, four, three, two, one. When the count reached zero, he called out loudly, “Now!” and all twelve Eves simultaneously orgasmed. They didn’t quit peddling, however. Instead they peddled furiously as they thrashed on the pillows. Evidently the circuitry sensed the additional voltage because bells started ringing from the top of each of the light poles.
The bells continued for several minutes until the Eves slowly calmed down. When all of the wheels had stopped turning The Enlightened One clapped his hands loudly. The naked Adams hustled out to carry the torment bicycles out of the circle.
“Thoughts, Mister W?” he said, looking directly at me.
“It is one thing,” I said, “to endure something for your Master. It is a level higher to inflict on yourself what you have to endure. I would assume that those who pass the Sybian test advance to the tongued bicycle test.”
He laughed and said, “And from there to a robed member of the Community of Eden.”
He looked at me with a very fixed, almost stare, and said, “The next one is not a test.” He clapped again and the naked Adams came running back in. This time there were only six devices but it took eight men to carry each device. The devices consisted of a platform on which was mounted a pillory and a spanking machine. Two of the machines had leather paddles; two had wooden paddles; and two had thin canes.
Once the platforms were in place, five naked women and one naked man walked slowly out into the open area. Each one stepped up onto one of the platforms and placed their head and hands in the stock of the pillory. I noted that the man was at one of the machines with a leather paddle.
The pillory was mounted rather low, so each person was forced to kneel on the padded bench which was several inches off the floor of the platform. Once all six were in place, one of the naked Adams closed the stock over their head and wrists while another bound their calves to the kneeling pad with wide leather straps.
A robed Adam and a robed Eve then walked out and adjusted the machines. They carefully moved the machine on its base so that the paddle struck in the proper area with the proper force. The two devices with leather paddles were set so that the stroke was actually stopped about an inch short of touching ass flesh. The flexible leather paddle would then snap the extra inch to contact the ass. The stiff wooden paddles were set to impact at full force. And the canes, which had a slight degree of whip, were set so the stroke was stopped just before striking the ass. In all three cases, those settings would cause the most powerful stroke when the leather or wood or cane actually struck the ass.
When the robed Adam and Eve were finished with their adjustments, they stood in front of The Enlightened One’s table and bowed stiffly from the waist. He raised his hands, palm down, and then used his fingers to wave them away. After they had left the open area, he snapped his fingers loudly and the Adam attending him lifted a remote and pressed a button. All six spanking machines came to life.
Whatever was controlling the devices had them synchronized so the two leather paddles stuck together, then the two wooden ones, then the two canes. The sounds of “Pop, Splat, Snap,” brought an unintended smile to my face as I pictured the faces of the three cartoon characters who advertise a popular breakfast cereal. Of course, those commercials don’t include the yelps of pain which followed the Pop, Splat, and Snap I was witnessing.
I initially thought that this was some demonstration of punishments, but then after about the sixth or seventh cycle of the machines, the sound of the paddles and cane hitting ass flesh got louder. And the sounds from the women– and man– in the pillories began to change.
It happened first with the man and woman on the receiving end of the leather paddles. Both his and her asses had taken on a rather bright shade of pink, but neither was any longer yelping in pain. Instead both of them were starting to groan slightly with each strike of the leather paddle. And it wasn’t a groan of pain. It was very obviously a groan of passion. The spanking was turning them on.
It took the two women receiving swats from the wooden paddles a little longer to switch from yelps of pain to moans of passion, but that also soon occurred. It was hard to tell if there was a higher level of pain from the wooden paddles or if the leather just warmed an ass up better. In any case soon four of the six were groaning in passion in response to the spankings they were receiving.
The two women receiving a caning continued to yelp in pain. That didn’t surprise me. A caning, even a carefully-controlled mechanical caning that moves slowly up and down the surface of the ass, is often above the pain levels that a painslut can convert to pleasure-pain. As the leather and wooden paddles turned four asses deep red and then purple, the caning slowly began to raise deep purple welts which began to bleed slightly.
“How long do you think it will take, Mister W?” The Enlightened One asked with a smile.
“Before they break, or before they orgasm?” I replied.
He laughed and said, “Watch.”
I had been unconsciously counting the strokes of the machines. At around thirty-five strokes, the groans of passion began to morph into a keening wail. Soon all six were wailing continuously. The four receiving paddlings were apparently approaching orgasm. The two receiving canings were very close to breaking.
Then the male shouted out, “Oh, oh, oh, oh,” and spurted onto the platform beneath him. That was followed by five female voices screaming out in orgasm. The machines fell silent. The male hung limp in the pillory while the five females thrashed and convulsed in tremendous orgasms.
After the women quieted down, The Enlightened One asked, “What do you think now, Mister W?”
“Are they natural painsluts or were they conditioned to crave and respond to pain?” I replied.
“Even I cannot do that,” he answered, smiling deeply at me.
“I can,” I said, “but I choose not to.”
“From anyone else,” he said, “I would consider that an idle boast, but you I believe.”
The naked Adams rushed out onto the floor and picked up the platforms. The six well-beaten novitiates remained in place in their pillories. Instead of walking directly out of the room as they had done with the women on the Sybians, the bearers walked slowly around the room so that everyone could get a good look at the well-beaten asses.
His attendants slid The Enlightened One’s throne back slightly and he stood up. “Adams, Eves, honored guests, we have the pleasure tonight of witnessing a demonstration of one of Mister W’s marvelous machines.” He laughed slightly and added, “... which he, of course, is hoping to sell me. He says it can punish even a painslut without leaving a mark on their body.”
He clapped his hands and two robed figures stepped into the center of the room. “Adam David and Eve Yvonne have broken the rules of our community by engaging in unapproved, secret sexual relations. Normally they would be bound in the caning machines, which they would not enjoy, for fifty strokes and then be reduced to novitiate status.”
He waited for the murmuring to cease and then continued, “In my enlightened mercy, I have decreed that if they willingly participate in Mister W’s demonstration that will suffice as their punishment and they will retain their status as full members of the community.”
A round of applause broke out and continued until The Enlightened One waved it to stop. “Mister W,” he said, “they are yours to command.”
“Thank you, Enlightened One,” I said as I rose from my chair. Four of the naked Adams were wheeling my machine to the center of the room. I uncovered it and indicated that they should move it to the floor.
“There are actually two machines here,” I began to explain. “They can operate independently or as an attached pair for punishments such as you are about to witness. Either machine can be set up for a male or a female.”
“That looks an awful lot like one of my Sybians,” the smooth voice of The Enlightened One interrupted.
“Similar, but different,” I quickly said. “My motors and vibrations vary in frequency as well as intensity and the design of the saddles are significantly different than a Sybian’s. Because the basic barrel shape is patented by Sybian, I pay a slight fee to them, but that is primarily to avoid any legal arguments that could otherwise arise.”
“Adam David and Eve Yvonne,” I said firmly, “I think it is obvious which end of the device you are intended to occupy.”
Both dropped their robes from their bodies and stepped forward. Two robed figures stood on either side of each of them as they approached my machine. Eve Yvonne paused and looked down at the twin dildos which stuck up from the saddle. The saddle as well as the dildos were a deep ebony black to differentiate them from the pink of a Sybian.
“It is already lubricated,” I said softly as Eve straddled the saddle and began to settle herself down. The two robed Eves who accompanied her strapped her legs in place against the sides of the barrel. “The hands are restrained behind her,” I said firmly when the two Eves seemed confused about what to do. Once she was in place and restrained, I went over and double-checked everything before moving to the other end of the dual device.
“I think it is obvious where things go,” I said to Adam David. He didn’t look too sure, but he settled himself down on the saddle and moved so that his balls and prick were in the depression between his legs. His prick began to stiffen slightly as it came in contact with the artificial vagina.
“You might want to make sure it is lined up while it is still pliable,” I said, trying not to smile or laugh.
He quickly pushed his prick down and it slid between the lubricated artificial labia. The two Adams had already watched the Eves restrain Eve Yvonne so they quickly strapped Adam David’s legs and then his hands in place.
“This device can bring pleasure... intense pleasure,” I said as I turned slowly to address the entire crowd. “But there are many devices which can do that. What makes this device unique is my special algorithms, the frequency, the intensity, and even the temperature of the stimulation.” I laughed and added, “And then there is that special extra, but I will let you figure that out for yourself.”
I held up a remote and pushed a button. Both Adam David and Eve Yvonne reacted as the vibrations and movement began to work on them.
I walked back to my seat at the head table and said to the Enlightened One, “It’s all automatic from this point... until you shut it off.”
He looked at me with a quizzical expression on his face which changed to a smile when I said, “Watch.”
It was soon apparent that both Adam David and Eve Yvonne were being driven higher and higher. The computer was set up to synchronize their arousals, but such things are not an exact science. The special sensors which measured temperature of the genitals, muscle tension of the ass cheeks, and other indicators are a very exact science. But what those readings mean are as much art as science.
Surprisingly, Eve Yvonne began to reach orgasm before Adam David. She was chanting, “Yes, yes, yes,” which suddenly turned into a long, drawn out, “Noooooooo!”
She tried to grind her crotch against the machine but quit when she received a severe electrical shock.
“No, no, no,” she wailed. “I was so close.”
Adam David did not cry out, but the pained expression on his face clearly indicated that the pleasurable sensations had ceased.
The Enlightened Son of Seth began to laugh. “How long can you keep them on the edge?” he asked.
“Hours,” I replied, “days if you feed them and don’t mind the machine getting soiled with urine and excrement.”
The Enlightened One laughed again. There was something evil and deeply disturbing about that laugh. “I think that two hours would be quite sufficient for tonight,” he said. “We will talk price and quantities in the morning.”
Thirty minutes later, both Adam David and Eve Yvonne were calling out, “Let me cum. Please, please! Let me cum!”
At one hour their cries were almost piteous. At ninety minutes they were both sobbing and pleading to be allowed to cum. By the time it reached the two hour mark, Eve Yvonne was incoherent. She was basically chanting, “Fuck me. Fuck me. Somebody fuck me hard and make me cum.” Adam David was slumped forward and appeared to be unconscious, but he continued to moan quietly, “Please... please... please... please... please...”
The Enlightened One clapped his hands loudly and two Adams came out and released Adam David. They had to practically carry him out. Two Eves released Eve Yvonne. When she tried to reach down and rub her clit, they bound her arms behind her back and led her away. She was still wailing, “Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me, please!”
I turned to face The Enlightened One and said in my most polite voice, “Please have your novitiate Adams load my machine onto the cart. I will take it up to my room and clean it. I also want to download the data to help refine the algorithms that control it.”
The Enlightened One nodded to one of his attendants who rushed out to see to the loading. Then he said, “Eve Maria will escort you back to your room. We will talk in the morning.”
Chapter Four - Eve Maria
Eve Maria was the Eve with the long blonde hair who had ended up with the water glass that had been intended for me. She didn’t seem affected by it, so maybe I had been wrong about the water. Once we got back down to my floor, she walked quickly and surely down the hallway in front of me. The robe flowing back behind her caused her very shapely legs to show as she took long strides toward my room. If the rest of her body matched her legs, she was truly a beautiful woman.
She got to the room well before me and opened my door with a card she pulled from her cleavage. She stood there smiling at me as I rolled the cart into the room. Once I got the cart inside and pushed to the center of the room, she pulled one of the chairs over from the small table and sat there smiling at me. I don’t think that smile ever left her face.
“I’m supposed to observe you while you clean the machine,” she said in a very sweet voice. It would have been a much more beautiful voice if it didn’t have that stupid sing-song effect that everyone here seemed to have. It was almost as if they were singing rather than speaking.
“Do you have a pair of sunglasses?” I asked as I picked up one of my tool boxes and pulled a pair of welding goggles out of it.
“Sunglasses?” she replied with a shocked look on her face. The smile disappeared for just a moment.
“Yes,” I began to explain, “after I wipe everything off with some bleach cleaner, I use a special very intense UV light to sanitize everything.”
“I can close my eyes,” she said almost with a pout.
I acted like I was thinking then I said, “OK, but you will have to turn and face the other way while I use the light.”
She gave me that same head slightly turned look like a puppy awaiting a treat and then after a few seconds said, “OK, but I watch you up to the point where you have to use the light.”
I took the cloth off the machine and used about a half a roll of paper towels to wipe everything down. There were an amazing amount of bodily fluids all over the machine, especially where Eve Yvonne had been sitting. The artificial cunt which Adam David had been trapped in opened up for cleaning. I was pleased to note that he hadn’t actually spurted during the entire two hours he was on the machine.
After making sure the primary mess was wiped away, I got out a bottle of an industrial bleach-style spray cleaner and sprayed everything down really well. Eve Maria coughed as the heavy smell of bleach filled the room. I let it sit for a few minutes and then used the other half of the paper towels to wipe everything completely dry.
That’s really all the cleaning that the machine needs. The next step was just an excuse for getting out my camera destroyer. It looks like the type of hard UV wand used to sterilize work areas in a meat-packing plant, and that is exactly what it is. But I added a few “improvements” especially for tonight.
“Shut your eyes tight,” I said as I put on my welding goggles and then turned the wand to the warm-up position. It gave a very acceptable low hum as I waited for the two red indicators to light in the handle telling me that it had connected to the special circuitry in my phone charger.
“You might want to put your hand over your eyes, just to be sure,” I said. Then I switched the wand to full power.
The UV light caused many things in the room to glow in weird colors. It also washed out the video image for any of the cameras operating in the room. Then the laser pointer from the phone charger and the high energy laser from the wand turned on and synchronized. It only took three seconds to give each camera a burst of laser light that had enough energy to weld– or cut– steel plates.
“You can open your eyes now,” I said cheerfully. “I’m done with my cleaning.”
“Then maybe we can get on to something more enjoyable,” she said with a now overly-sweet smile.
“Not until I clean myself off,” I said firmly. “Why don’t you fix us something to drink while I take a quick shower. There’s some bourbon and ice on the table. I think there are some mixers in the little refrigerator if you need that sort of thing.”
Her look of surprise and pleasure was more than obvious. She had probably been trying to figure out how she was going to slip me whatever drug it was that she was supposed to use and I handed everything to her on a silver platter. The Son of Seth really had to work on his puppets’ poker faces.
When I came back out of the bathroom I was wearing one of those white, terrycloth robes that hotels and resorts seem to prefer. She was sitting at the table wearing nothing but a smile. Two glasses of bourbon on ice sat on the table in front of her. Beneath each glass was a pressed paper coaster like you would find in a bar except these had the winged bird seal of The Community of Eden and the words, “Enlightenment Brings Truth.”
I stood behind her and put my hand on her shoulder. “That looks great,” I said. Then I added as I squeezed her shoulder, “And you look great.” ... another squeeze ... “Everything looks great.”
She smiled up at me and then fell forward onto the table. With me squeezing her, she hadn’t felt the needle ring puncture the muscle on the top of her shoulder. The knock-out took a bit longer than usual to take effect because it was a different type from what I usually use. This one doesn’t take you quite as far out, and that was what I needed for tonight.
I lifted her back up to the sitting position and got the vet syringe from my tool box. Vets usually use this syringe with the long tubing attached to it to give liquid medicines to dogs or other recalcitrant animals. I my case, it wasn’t liquid medicine I wanted to put down her throat, it was the bourbon from my glass. I had to be careful to get the tube in the right place so it would go in her stomach and not her lungs, but after I was sure of the tube’s position, I pushed the plunger fully in.
After I was sure that she had “drunk” the bourbon, I picked her up and laid her on the bed. Then I got out a small syringe with a fine-gauge needle and gave her a shot on the inside of the arm that would keep her out for about a half-hour.
After I emptied the other glass into the sink and refilled it slightly from my flask, I took a blood sample from her arm and then began a VERY close inspection of her body. I first made a closeup video recording of every part of her body. She was truly beautiful, but this wasn’t a perv thing. I– and the techs who would review the video– were looking for anything which could tell us how The Enlightened One was controlling her.
The only obvious thing I found was a small, square, brand on the very inside top of her left thigh. It was a square about the size of my thumbnail and appeared to have a bar code or some very small lettering in it. From the precision and size of the brand, it had to have been done by a laser branding device. After spending several minutes trying to read the characters, I suddenly laughed softly to myself. They weren’t letters. The top row was three dots; the next row was three dashes; and the bottom row was three dots... dot, dot, dot... dash, dash, dash... dot, dot, dot. It was morse code for SOS. That probably stood for Son of Seth, but I would keep all options open on that.
Next I got out the wand that Lacy’s technical people had given me from its hiding place in the cart. It was supposed to detect any electronics or metal objects in the body. It picked up nothing until I got to her head. It buzzed and beeped as I passed it over the back of her neck. I lifted up her hair and could clearly see a very thin bump about the size of a postage stamp right at her hairline. I hadn’t noticed that with my visual inspection, but once the wand drew my attention to it, it was obvious.
“Oh,” I said softly as I got another item out of the concealment in the cart. The tech had said that I probably wouldn’t need it, but it would record any radio frequencies emanating from the walls. In this case, I wasn’t looking for bugs transmitting from the walls, I was looking for a control bug inside Eve Maria transmitting back to... somewhere. After the proper lights had lit on the device, I put it... and everything else back away.
I left my Glocks in their hiding place in the cart. If things went south they would be useless except to perhaps kill or injure innocent Adams and Eves. The plan would either work or it wouldn’t. Or maybe it would work just well enough to get me out of here alive. At this point, I would take what I could get.
There was nothing to do but wait. I arranged Eve Maria under the covers and climbed into bed alongside her. I actually went to sleep, but it was that type of sleep where you remain aware of everything around you. If she stirred before she was supposed to, I needed to know it.
I woke around seven and she was still loudly snoring alongside of me. I got up and went into the bathroom. By the time I had shaved, done my morning routine, and dressed, she was beginning to stir. I lay back down on top of the covers and picked up my phone so that it would look like I was checking for texts, etc.
“What? Where am I?” she suddenly sputtered as she sat up in the bed. “Who are you?” she continued in alarm. Her arms were flailing almost wildly as she said, “How did I get here?”
I quickly stood next to the bed. I was hoping she would come around, but instead she froze with her head cocked slightly to the side. Her face was totally blank. I waited until the permanent smile returned and said, “You gave me the wrong glass.”
“What?” she said.
“Actually, I switched it,” I said making a switching motion with my hands.
“What?” she repeated.
“The bourbon... last night,” I replied. “The Mickey Finn was supposed to be in my glass.” I laughed slightly and continued, “But then, I was also supposed to have the water glass that was put on the table in my place.” I paused then continued, “I switched it with one three seats to my left... which happened to be you. So if there was something in the water, you got that. too.”
“No!” she almost screamed, looking up at the ceiling. “It wasn’t my fault! Please, no!”
It was obvious she wasn’t talking to me. As she looked wildly around the room I watched her in alarm. Then suddenly she screamed loudly and thrashed on the bed. She lay there crying for a while, then got up and said calmly, “I will leave you now.”
As she padded toward the door, I called out after her, “Aren’t you forgetting your robe?”
She turned back to me. She wasn’t smiling now. “No,” she said, “I’ve been demoted. A novitiate doesn’t deserve to wear clothing.” With that she closed the door behind her.
I quickly went over to where her robe was lying next to the bed. There was no reason for it to be there, and yet she had carefully placed it there last night while I was in the bathroom. I didn’t find anything, but the wand did. Hidden in the hem was a small device about the size of a postage stamp. It was a little thinner than the pressed paper coasters that were under our drinks on the table.
I thought about tearing it out of the hem and then hiding the robe somewhere, but decided that some things should be left to Lacy’s lab rats. I folded up the robe as tightly as I could and stuffed it into the false bottom of my toolbox. I was hoping that, if the device was active, the metal would conceal the signal.
I had barely gotten everything back in place when there was a somewhat loud knock at my door. I opened it and three naked Eves stood there smiling at me.
“We are here to clean the room and help you pack, Mister W,” one of them said cheerfully as they pushed their way into the room.
One of them immediately began stripping the sheets off of the bed. The other grabbed the glasses off of the table and took them out to the cart in the hallway. The third went into the bathroom and sweetly asked, “Where do you wish your toiletries to be packed?”
I took a deep breath and said, “My travel kit is on the counter.” I usually pack such items myself, but I didn’t think my objections would be heard.
In a few minutes the bed had been remade, new glasses were on the shelf by the table, and my suitcase was standing next to the door.
The three naked Eves paused for a minute with their heads all identically tilted to the left. Then the apparent leader asked, “Where is the robe of former Eve Maria?”
“Didn’t she take it with her?” I asked, feigning bewilderment. All three looked back at me with a flash of anger... or was it fear? I really would love to play poker with this group. Their faces showed everything.
“Look for it!” the leader said harshly as she went over to the bed and began reaching under the mattress. Both other naked Eve’s were on their hands and knees looking under the bed. With their heads nearly on the ground, their cunts and rosebuds were prominently displayed. My gaze zeroed in on the space between their legs. I wasn’t admiring their shaved slits, I was looking to see if they had the SOS brand. It was hard to see, and I definitely couldn’t read the dots and dashes, but it was there.
While I was distracted by the antics of the two Eves, four Adams entered the room behind me. A surprisingly gruff voice said, “I am Adam Twelve, head of security here at The Community of Eden. The Esteemed Son of Seth has decided not to meet with you this morning and would like you to leave immediately.”
“Did I do something to upset him?” I asked.
“The Esteemed One does not share his reasons with me,” he replied, “only his orders.”
Two of the other Adams had already started to push my cart into the hallway. The third was carrying my suitcase. Adam Twelve reached for my elbow, but I said firmly, “I think we might both regret that,” and he instead gestured with his hand for me to follow the cart down the hallway.
When we got to the Jeep, I said, “I will have to disassemble the machine for travel.”
Adam Twelve, said, “Leave it. The Enlightened One was impressed. You can discuss payment later.”
“OK,” I responded, “but I need the cart. I had it especially made to fit in this Jeep.”
“No problem,” he said, snapping his fingers at the others. It only took a moment for my machine to be loaded onto a different cart and my cart and toolboxes to be placed in the Jeep.
I should have been happy, but instead I was scared shitless. I now had no doubt that The Enlightened One had no intention of letting me live, but my first hurdle was to get out of The Community of Eden.
Chapter Five - The Curse of Our Only Hope
It was a four-hour drive back to northern Virginia, but there was no way I was driving that far. As soon as I was clear of the compound, I keyed the transmitter that had been built into the car radio and said, “Whisky Tango Foxtrot. Unknown danger. Require immediate cocoon.” I then floored it and prayed I could get to the rendezvous point at an abandoned gas station about four miles away.
When I arrived, a semi sat idling in the parking area next to the abandoned gas station. If necessary– and appropriate– the Jeep could be driven up into the back of the semi but first the techs needed to check things out. Two cars and a van were also pulled up near the building. The windows of the old station were boarded up, but light was leaking out around the plywood. I pulled up to the big service door and sounded the horn. When the door opened I drove in.
It was an old station with a grease pit like you would find in a quick change oil place rather than a lift like in most modern service bays. As soon as I pulled in four technicians opened the rear of the Gladiator and pulled the cart and my toolboxes clear.
“Everything inside?” one of them asked, pointing to the cart.
“I think the toolbox is most important,” I replied, “but the recorders and blood samples are inside the cart.”
“Got it,” he answered as several techs rushed those pieces outside and into the van.
I had just started to relax when one of the techs beneath the Gladiator called out, “Bomb. Sweet and Sour.”
“Everyone out except the bomb specialists,” the chief tech said firmly. His voice sounded very much like a man with military experience.
“What does ‘Sweet and Sour’ mean?” I asked as we rushed out.
Once we were inside one of the cars and moving a little further down the highway, he said in a somewhat clipped speech, “Sweet and Sour means a simple bomb that could have booby traps. They will give us an all clear.”
“And if there are booby traps?” I asked.
He chuckled and said in a flat voice, “I think we will know that, too.”
About ten minutes later, his radio squawked and a voice said, “Neutralized. All clear.”
We drove back a little slower than we left. When we got there, the bomb tech was sitting in what used to be the old office. There was a blob of what looked like modeling clay on the desk along with a small circuit board and what was obviously a detonator.
“It was on the tank and wired into the gas gauge,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone. “The timer evidently was supposed to start when you stopped for gas. We could detect no other devices.”
“When would you stop for gas?” the leader asked.
“The only logical place would be where this highway meets the interstate about forty miles up,” I replied.
“This is above my level of authorization,” he said as he handed me a phone. I was pretty sure who was on the other end.
“Marco,” a pleasant sounding female voice said.
“Roni,” I replied. It’s a long story, but long ago we did a long surveillance together and when we were separated slightly in the woods, I called out to her, “Marco.” She had never played Marco Polo as a kid and said the first thing which came to her mind, which was “Roni.” It’s been a joke... and a verification phrase... between us ever since.
She laughed slightly and I said, “Hello, Lacy. Your man doesn’t have the authority to ask me to drive my Jeep up the road until it explodes so he has turned me over to you.”
“I really do love working with you,” she replied.
“Can we at least save my suitcase?” I said.
“Put it on your expense report,” she replied curtly. “They may have access to the video feed from the gas station and definitely will get the videos from the news reports when it blows up at the rest stop.”
“So that’s how you’re going to play it,” I said, trying not to sound angry. “I wasn’t really angry with her. It was the logical way to play this out, but I was the one who was going to have to drive the Gladiator for the next two hours. The bomb techs hadn’t said there were no other bombs. He said that they “could detect no other devices.” The undetected devices are usually the ones that get you.
Luckily, there wasn’t a second bomb hidden on the Jeep. I got gas and made sure to go inside and pick up a snack so I would show clearly on the surveillance videos. The rest stop was another sixty miles down the interstate. I pulled in and used the restroom, again so my face was on the surveillance videos. Then I pulled all the way to the back of the parking area where the lights were a bit dim.
I lay back as if I was going to go to sleep but hadn’t even closed my eyes before there was a sharp tap on the window. A man dressed totally in black with a black hood covering his head and face smiled at me. “Crawl back into the bushes,” he said.
As I crawled away, two more men were crouched low dragging a body toward the Jeep. It was probably a John Doe from a local morgue, but I really didn’t want to know. The reality of my life is that there are a lot of things that happen where I really don’t want to know... or don’t have sufficient clearance to be read in.
Once I was in the darkness, someone handed me a black hoodie and mask. “White van between the two lights which are burnt out,” he whispered loudly.
He didn’t say how I was supposed to get there, but I knew enough to stay out of the light as I worked my way around the back of the restrooms. I just hoped some security guard didn’t get spooked if they saw me.
I waited in the van for about fifteen minutes until two figures in black got into the front. “Jimmy wants a clear line of sight when he triggers things to be sure there is no collateral damage,” one of them said. Then he added, “He will be here in a few minutes.”
A short time later a bright flash followed by a dull boom lit up the night sky. Just moments after that, the rear doors of the van opened and a black-clad figure, evidently named Jimmy, jumped inside. As we drove off, I could see what was left of the Jeep burning fiercely.
Chapter Six - The Fall of Eden
“This man is a genius, an absolute fucking genius,” Harold gushed. Harold was Lacy’s chief lab rat. His name wasn’t actually Harold but he told me the first time I met him, “You wouldn’t be able to pronounce it.” Also, it said, “Harold” on his name tag. Beneath that it read, “Chief Lab Rat.” I really liked Harold.
“It is very fortunate that you did not attempt to touch this device,” he said, sounding more serious. “It is a form of living circuitry and would have attached to you immediately.”
He laughed, “Of course, it wouldn’t have been able to control you attached to your hand, but it probably would still have not been good.”
“How does it control people?” I asked. There were a bunch of people in the room who probably could have asked better questions, but Harold was talking to me.
“If you place this right on the top of the neck at the base of the skull,” he continued, reaching up to his own neck and pushing in with two fingers,” it apparently sinks through the skin and seeks out the base of the medulla oblongata.”
He looked at my blank face and said, “That’s the very bottom of the brain.” Then he continued his explanation, “From what you have described, it must be able to intercept some basic thoughts and communicate directly to the brain. It also can evidently create pain or pleasure stimuli.”
“A perfect way to control someone,” a General said gruffly. “But how do we counteract it?”
“I think... and this is only a SWAG,” Harold said quickly, “that there has to be some high power, very low frequency transmitter located near their base. All of the Adams and Eves are connected to that transmitter.”
“How big would the antenna have to be?” the General asked.
“Massive,” Harold replied. “And it would have to be close. That’s why we can’t prove our theory. There’s no antenna like that at the compound.”
“Draw it,” I said firmly.
“What?” Harold sputtered.
“Draw what the damned antenna would look like,” I said. My voice was trembling a bit with anger.
Harold quickly used a nearby whiteboard to draw a large antenna with a central pole and four long parallel arms reaching out on either side.
“How high in the air does it need to be?” I asked.
“That’s just it,” he said. “The bottom has to be almost on the ground to work properly. The top yagi wing would be about fifty feet in the air.”
I stood up and took the marker from Harold. Then I slowly drew the Ark around the antenna.
“That’s it,” Lacy said from the back of the room. “It’s hidden in plain sight. The transmitter and antenna are hidden in the ark.”
“Close,” I said. “They ARE the Ark of Eden. But that is just my own scientific wild-ass guess.”
“So,” Lacy said in a very firm voice, “we take out the Ark of Eden as we breach.” She turned to the general and said, “I want overwhelming force to minimize collateral damage.” She paused and then said, “And I want David Allen Carter taken alive!”
It takes a while to gather such a specialized force. In addition, Lacy’s people wanted to take advantage of the intelligence coming from the bugs in my machines. The demonstration machines had been separated and both halves were set up for female “riders.” The cameras clearly showed that Eve Maria and the leader of the three Eves who had cleaned my room had been singled out for punishment by The Enlightened One. The novitiate Eve was put on the machine each day from eleven to one while the community gathered for their mid-day meal. Eva Maria, however, was evidently left on the machine for three continuous days. She might have been left on there longer, but the attack occurred on the fourth day.
All of the military personnel involved in the attack were deputized to make them a part of an FBI special response team. Lacy even had them deputize me so I could tag along. She was a bit surprised when I said that I would observe from a distance.
Everyone expects such an attack to occur at night, but if you are trying for minimal casualties, you strike during the day. Information gathered from my device indicated that the best time to attack would probably be during the mid-day meal when almost all members of The Community of Eden were gathered in the big roof room. The glass roof gave them a clear view of the drones as they came over the horizon in formation at exactly noon. They were small suicide drones each carrying a respectable charge. One hundred of them crashed into each side of the Ark of Eden, immediately reducing it– and the mind-control transmitter– to a pile of flaming rubble.
The attack team expected to meet at least minimal resistance, but instead they found everyone, including the guards, standing around staring at the sky with their heads cocked to the left. It took only minutes to completely occupy The Community of Eden’s main campus.
While all this was happening, I was in the woods behind the Ark of Eden watching... and waiting. The Esteemed One didn’t disappoint me. He popped out of the ground about a hundred and fifty feet from the back of the Ark. He was no longer wearing his robes. Instead he was wearing jeans and a dark t-shirt. There was a small backpack over his shoulders like he was going out hiking for the day.
He ran for the woods, but stopped short when I put a burst on full automatic across his path. He looked up at me and stuttered, “You... you... how could you be alive?”
“I’m not,” I responded. “I died when the bomb you put in my Jeep blew up.” I laughed and then said, “And they can’t try a dead man for killing you.”
He continued to stare at me, so I said angrily, “On your knees with your ankles crossed. Hands behind your head with the fingers interlocked. Anything else gives me an excuse to pull the trigger.”
He slowly sank to his knees and put his hands behind his head. I pulled his arms down and zip-tied his wrists to the opposite arm just below the elbow. Then I put one more zip-tie in the middle binding his forearms together. That hands crossed behind your back zip-tie arrangement is a much better way to restrain someone than just zip-tying the wrists. Their hands are totally useless and yet there is still circulation in the arms. I pushed him forward and lowered him into the dirt by holding his arms. Then I put three large zip-ties around his legs.
Three uniformed men and two women came running around the Ark, probably drawn by the sound of gunfire. I fired another short burst into the dirt directly in front of me and yelled out, “Get Lacy McGrath back here NOW. I don’t give up this prisoner to anyone but her.”
The men continued to advance toward me, so I yelled out to the two women, “If you don’t personally know these three, take them into custody until Lacy arrives.” I paused and then added, “... or I shoot them where they stand.”
The men looked at me and started running for the woods but they didn’t get very far. The women were definitely a part of Lacy’s well-trained troops. Soon the three men were also zip-tied and lying face down on the ground. The women stood next to them with their weapons lowered. They knew enough not to attempt to approach me.
A voice came over a loud speaker. It was Lacy. “W,” she said, “do not shoot. My verified protection detail have reflective arm bands. We will be approaching shortly.”
Almost immediately an ATV came rolling around the end of the Ark. Four men were jogging on either side of it. I could see the reflection off their arm bands. I could also see Lacy’s blonde hair waving in the wind as she hurried back to where I was standing.
Her first words when she got out of the ATV were, “How in the hell did you know what he would do?”
I laughed and said, “He kept telling me that he and I were alike. If I ran this place, I would have a rat hole that came up behind the Ark. Any attack would come from the front or from above. This area is in darkness and even spotlights from the camp itself would leave this area almost black.”
Epilogue
The direct control of the Adams and Eves was broken when the Ark of Eden was destroyed, but the conditioning and training remained. It would take an army of doctors, therapists and deprogrammers many years to undo the damage which The Enlightened One had inflicted upon his followers.
The living circuits are still in place in each of them, but according to the scientists and doctors studying them, without the strong low frequency signals continuously powering the circuits they will eventually be absorbed by the body like any other foreign tissue. It is expected that the only lasting effect will be a permanently increased libido.
I would love to say that David Allen Carter is rotting away in some supermax federal prison, but he isn’t. He is definitely under government supervision and will never be allowed back into normal society, but he isn’t in a secure prison facility. Instead he is a resident at a super secure secret research facility where the government is further developing his living circuitry. There are supposedly a host of very beneficial purposes for such a device, but it is still the government and I have already seen the evil, twisted ways the technology can be used. I hope for the best, but expect the worst.
Lacy and I spent a couple nights at her place trying to recapture old times, but we have, as they say, grown apart. She can’t forget that she effectively sent me on a suicide mission. I told her I understood, but she can’t get over the guilt. When I left the last time, I said “Marco.” She answered, “Polo,” and started crying. I turned and walked away before she could see the tears in my eyes.
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