✅ The Baby Makers

Welcome to the Show

My first bonus chapter for a Patreon this month; this one is dedicated to Mike. Your contribution helps me keep on writing stories like these, so I hope all of my readers will show their gratitude as well. If you'd like to see a bonus chapter of a different story next month, drop me a message. Thank you.

I'm being a little silly with the chapter titles again on this story. Not the same connection as on «Trusting the Babysitter», but probably just as silly. If you spot it before anyone else, leave a comment. There might be a little prize.

"Welcome!" the man behind the desk called, a kind of false cheer that seemed just as odd as the faux-casual tie. Did this place insist on staff trying to appear informal? It was something Ana might have expected from corporate interests, but not from any kind of cult. That gave her a moment of second thoughts.

The Order had been able to sense a lot of change coming from this house; that was why Ana was here. They wanted to know exactly what was going on, and even with their most talented members, they hadn't been able to sense the precise nature of this place from outside. They all had senses more than a mundane human, and Ana could feel things that were still a mystery to some of her friends within the Order, so she was clearly the right woman for the job. She'd half been expecting to find a religious group using some form of mind-altering drugs to keep their followers in line. She'd been expecting to find a compound around the house, people camping out, but it seemed like whatever was going on to distort the collective unconscious so drastically must be taking place within the house itself.

This corporate facade gave her an entirely different set of possibilities. Some kind of team-building retreat, maybe. If they used hypnosis to strengthen a team's bonds, that might conceivably result in the changes that she'd come to investigate, but it would have to be some fairly intensive programme. Hundreds of cultists having their minds twisted to unswerving obedience, or a thousand businessmen being pushed towards the organised, driven individuals the company wanted. The ripples in the collective unconscious would be the same, regardless of the type of mental modification.

"Hey," she waved nervously, staying outside the door, "I'm not sure if I'm in the right place..." That was a lie, but she was sure they couldn't actually know. She didn't feel the faintest trace of telepathy coming from the guy on the desk, or the subservient figure behind the door. While she waited for a response, she wondered what kind of place this could be. Organised like a business, if the uniforms were anything to go by. But Petra had said the house was owned by a shell corporation with no financial activity. Probably just a way for the family who lived here to avoid paying inheritance taxes. She hadn't expected an actual secretary. Their researchers hadn't been able to find any information about the place, so there were clearly no advertisements available to the public, and no mention of it in any business periodicals.

"Come on in," the secretary shrugged, "If you've come this far off the beaten track, I suspect whatever recommendations you've heard will be accurate. It's not uncommon for guests to be nervous on their first visit, so there's no pressure. We can discuss the possibilities, no pressure. Carl?"

"Yes, Phil?" the voice from behind the door had an English accent, and a voice gruff enough to hint at a lifetime of sore throats. He was trying to sound cheerful and welcoming, but it must be harder for Carl than for most people.

"Can you get a drink for this young lady? I'm sure she's had a long walk."

Ana thought for a second, and then stepped across the threshold. They weren't waiting in ambush, that much was clear. And she couldn't feel the slightest trace of influence from either of them. No, that wasn't true. Carl, who she could now see was a scrawny guy a little younger than Phil, had a residual imprint of something in his mind. He wasn't acting on any kind of compulsion, and it hadn't changed his personality, but at some time in the past his behaviour, beliefs, or attitude has been artificially altered. Normally Ana would have been able to discern more about the nature of the changes; but they had been completely reversed and there was nothing left to read.

"You like?" Carl chuckled, straightening his tie so she could get a better view. Ana realised she must have been staring for a moment, and he assumed it was his outfit. He had his shirt sleeves rolled up, to reveal muscles like knotted thread. Again, the shirt and dark trousers looked straight out of a casual office, but the formality was in sharp contrast to a tie depicting a dozen pastel-coloured ponies standing on top of each other, with more ponies filling the negative space to make a kind of horsey rainbow pattern. "We like to be smart here, so the visitors know at a glance who to ask for help. But I like to be cute too."

"Pretty neat," Ana couldn't help grinning. Despite the roughness of his voice, Carl seemed open and friendly. And she was sure that his pride in the tie was genuine; not just an affectation for the sake of presenting the right image, but something he genuinely liked to show off. She was feeling more confident now, knowing that these two couldn't possibly have any hostile intent. Of course, that was while they thought she was just another customer. Or a visitor or guest; those were the words they'd used. "Sorry I'm so nervous, I guess you don't have people just walking up so often."

"It's fine," Phil answered. "I'm Phil, by the way, and this is Carl. I'm one of the doctors here, but I'm stuck doing admin for now. If you sign up, there's a good chance I'd end up being your guide." He gave a half chuckle, and tapped his breast pocket with two fingers. Indicating the pocket watch; after calling himself both a doctor and a guide, that likely meant he was a hypnotist. And if he was so quick to allude to it, that meant that his practice here was almost certainly consensual. Carl was probably a former guest, unless the traces she felt in his mind were entirely unrelated, and he didn't have any kind of animosity towards the process. So whatever it was, she knew that the guests approved of it both before and after, and that in at least some cases they left the house with no lasting effects.

"Would you like a drink?" Carl asked, "We got juice or milk. Probably some soda if anyone brought one. Or herbal tea?" he glanced over at Phil as he asked the last, seeking clarification. Ana could see the non-verbal communication between them quite clearly, but she still couldn't read between the lines.

"The tea's a bit special," Phil explained, as she turned back to him, the curiosity presumably visible in her expression. "Made with some herbs we grow in the gardens. It can help you to relax, and make it a little easier if you're not used to our process. We normally recommend trying it for a guest's first session if they're particularly nervous. Now, we wouldn't go that far until you're sure you want to try it. But maybe relaxation would be beneficial. It's entirely up to you."