The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

NOW:

Seth Dorfman smiled as he ushered his friend Kevin Anders into his spacious living room.

“Good to see you,” the electronics engineer said. “It’s been too long. But I’ve been busy.”

Anders raised an eyebrow. “Doing what?”

“Sit, sit,” Seth said expansively. Kevin sat, sinking gratefully into the soft upholstery of the large couch resting against one wall. “Let me explain.”

Dorfman took a seat himself in a comfortable chair. “You remember how we always used to talk about building robots, back when we were kids.” Anders nodded. “I got into my present profession in part because of that early interest.”

Kevin Anders grinned. “I remember. We were a couple of nerds, and we always used to joke about building a girlfriend. What was the word we used? A sexbot, that was it.” He blinked. “Don’t tell me you’re seriously trying to do it!”

Seth smiled wickedly. “Not the way we used to talk about, no,” he answered. “Robotics is nowhere near advanced enough for anything like that. But—!” He reached over to pick up a small device. He spoke into the microphone on its front. “Rhoda, come in here, please.”

A minute later, the most amazing apparition entered the room: a tall woman whose great legs and swelling bosom were well displayed by the outfit she wore, spike heels and a tiny shiny miniskirt with low-cut top—and whose exposed skin, from head to foot, was a gleaming silvery color. Her piled hair was a gleaming platinum hue, and the irises of her eyes were lead-gray.

“Yes master?” she said in a calm voice. “What do you wish, master?” As she spoke, she stood before Dorfman, perfectly straight, arms at her sides, facing forward.

“What the hell—?” Anders’ eyes bugged out. “That looks like... but it can’t be!”

Dorfman grinned. “It is, though. Rhoda Gleason. The same girl we lusted after in college. The same girl who treated us like shit that whole time.”

“But what’s happened to her?” Anders could hardly believe what he was seeing. It was like something out of his teenaged self’s wet dreams. “What the hell have you done to her?”

Before answering, Dorfman turned to the silver woman. “Rhoda, bring us coffee, please. Black for me, milk and no sugar for Kevin.”

Rhoda sketched a bow. “Yes, master. I obey, master.” She straightened up and marched out of the room.

“Unbelievable,” whispered Anders.

“You have no idea,” chuckled his friend.

“But how did this happen?” Anders was wide-eyed—and, to tell the truth, more than a little aroused.

“Well, you see,” Dorfman returned, rubbing his hands together, “it was like this....”

TWO YEARS AGO:

Seth Dorfman wasn’t a big one for parties. He never had been. A dateless adolescence had soured him on the social scene. He’d much rather be in the lab, working on CyberGenics Corporation’s latest artificial-intelligence project—or on his own private project, which he’d spent the previous three years discreetly putting together.

Nevertheless, attendance at office functions was expected, so there he was, standing with his back to the wall and carefully nursing a cup of punch. This particular gathering was especially important in an office-politics sense, since the company was celebrating its takeover of its longtime rival Amalgamated Data Systems. A number of ADS people were present as well, staff the company was keeping on.

A face framed by dark brown hair in a pageboy bob caught his attention. It had been years, but—yes, it had to be her. Now that he thought about it, he vaguely recalled having heard—was it last year, or the year before?—that she’d been hired by Amalgamated. Evidently she was one of the people his bosses had decided to retain.

This was perfect! He’d been looking for a guinea pig. And who better than a woman who had humiliated him over and over for years when they were younger?

What made it even better was that she was gorgeous! Back in their school days she’d been a pep-squad princess, dating the captain of the football team in both high school and college. As a grown woman, she was spectacular, with shoulder-length honey-brown hair and a beautiful face. She’d always had a great figure, but maturity had made it better than ever. She knew it, too: the outfit she was wearing, with its glossy pumps, short skirt, and open-necked blouse under a short jacket, was obviously meant to draw the male eye.

Dorfman eased his way across the room toward his target. She was standing by one of the refreshment tables, sipping a cup of fruit punch.

“Hello,” he said at last, when he was close enough. “Remember me?”

Slightly startled, Rhoda Gleason darted a glance at him. She scanned him, but showed no sign of recognition.

Dorfman was annoyed. Evidently he’d been so unimportant to her when they’d known each other that she no longer remembered him at all. He kept his irritation out of his voice as he went on: “I’m Seth Dorfman. We went to college together.”

A faint light dawned “Oh, yeah, I remember,” Rhoda replied without much enthusiasm. “You and that other guy, what’s-his-name, were always trying to talk me into going out with you.”

“Funny how we’ve run into each other again after all these years, isn’t it?” Seth reached inside his jacket, feeling for the object he’d hidden in an inside pocket. His fingers closed on it just as Rhoda spoke again.

“Yeah,” she said. “Funny. I didn’t know you were working here.” Or I’d have started looking for another job as soon as I heard about the merger, she was very obviously thinking.

Seth looked around to make sure no one was watching the two of them. No one was. He pulled out the small penlike device he’d had hidden in his jacket, pointed its tip at Rhoda, and thumbed a small button at the base.

A dazzling, pulsating light appeared at the artifact’s tip. Forewarned, Seth avoided looking directly into it, but it had been aimed directly into Rhoda’s face.

The dark-haired woman’s eyes went wide, their pupils contracting, then expanding, then contracting again as the flashing light assaulted her. She gasped, suddenly unsteady on her feet; she might have fallen if Seth hadn’t steadied her with his free hand.

Dorfman eased his thumb off the trigger. The light vanished. He spoke: “Rhoda? Are you all right?”

“All right,” the brunette mumbled. Her eyes had lost focus and were wandering under half-closed, fluttering lids. “No. Feel all... wobbly.”

“You’ve just had a little too much to drink, that’s all,” Dorfman assured her. Actually, she hadn’t had anything alcoholic at all, as far as he knew, but in her present state she’d take his suggestion as true. “You need to come with me. I’ll find you someplace you can rest for a while.”

“Jus’... li’l too much drinkie,” Rhoda burbled. “Need t’... come with you. Res’ for a... li’l while.” Her head wobbled loosely on her neck.

Dorfman slid his arm around the woozy woman and gently guided her out of the room. He supported her as he maneuvered down the hall, away from the party. He found a convenient office and punched in the door combination—conveniently, all the doors on this floor except for a few restricted ones used the same three-digit code. He half-carried the befuddled Rhoda inside and eased her down into one of the plush chairs inside, then took a seat facing her.

He’d have to work fast. The mini-strobe’s effects wouldn’t last long, and zapping her repeatedly risked simply putting her into an unresponsive sleep. Fortunately, he had other tools at his disposal; the trick was to set up the opportunity to use them.

He rubbed his hands together briskly and got to the point. “Rhoda,” he said, “listen carefully, please.”

The dark-haired woman sprawled in the seat across from his had been nodding and giggling softly. At his words, however, her head came up and her eyes locked on his face.

“That’s right, Rhoda,” Seth said. “Listen carefully. In a few moments, we’re going to go back to the party. When we go back, you’ll forget everything that’s happened since I came over to you and shined this”—he gestured with the strobe device, and Rhoda’s eyes followed the motion—“in your eyes.

“But before then, I’m going to give you some instructions. You won’t remember my giving them to you, but you’ll obey them. Nod your head, Rhoda, if you understand and accept this.”

Rhoda nodded.

“Very good, Rhoda.” Dorfman put the strober away again. “What you must do, tomorrow evening, is come over to my place. You will come over to my place because I have something very important to show you, something to do with work. You’ll arrive at seven-thirty, Rhoda, and come on in when I answer the door.” That would give him time to get home from work and make last-minute preparations. “Repeat my instructions if you understand and accept them, and will do as I say.”

Rhoda dutifully parroted his words.

“That’s fine,” he responded. “Now we’re going to go back to the party, Rhoda, and as soon as we get back, you’re going to wake up completely. You won’t remember what happened here, but you’ll do as I’ve asked you to do.”

“Yes,” murmured Rhoda. “Do as... you’ve asked.”

Nodding, Dorfman helped Rhoda to her feet and steered her out into the hallway. She was beginning to blink rapidly, a sign that the strobe was wearing off; any further suggestions he might give her probably wouldn’t work.

True to his prior orders, though, she remained pliable as he towed her back down the hall. And as soon as the two of them re-entered the big meeting room where the party was going on, she blinked, detached herself and wandered away, showing no indication that she remembered anything she shouldn’t.

NOW:

“What, you hypnotized her?” Kevin Anders was incredulous. “Are you kidding?”

Seth Dorfman laughed. “No, I’m not. The strobe device I used is based on well-understood principles, although as far as I know no one’s ever applied those principles quite that way. Basically it forced her brain’s rhythms into an altered state, one in which she was disoriented and open to suggestion.”

“How the hell did you know it would work?”

Seth coughed. “I didn’t, actually. That was why I needed a guinea pig in the first place. If it hadn’t worked, it’d have been back to the drawing board, not just for the mini-strobe but for—but I’m getting ahead of myself.”

While he’d been telling his story, Rhoda had returned with a tray bearing two steaming cups of coffee. He sipped at his own for a bit before continuing.

“As it was, my initial test was a total success. I caught up with our Ms. Gleason a bit later that evening and asked a couple of leading questions, confirming that she really didn’t recall what had happened. The last thing she remembered before rejoining the party was talking with me over by the punch bowl.” Seth chuckled. “She seemed a little puzzled at how she’d suddenly ended up across the room, but otherwise, as far as she was concerned, nothing unusual had happened.”

He set down his empty cup. “I was looking forward to the next step....”

THEN:

Rhoda Gleason shook her head in annoyance. Seth Dorfman was every bit as much of a loser now as he’d been back in school, when they’d all called him “Dorkman.” It was one of life’s perversities that it seemed they’d be working for the same company now. The last thing she wanted to do was visit him at home. She remembered how the creep had hounded her for dates back in the day; she was afraid he might start to get ideas. But she didn’t have a choice.

As she pulled into the driveway after locating the address, she smiled ruefully. One thing you could say for him: he was making money. The Dorfman residence was no mansion, but it was a nice two-story house with a well-tended front lawn and a satellite dish on the roof. Rhoda had a little sideline going in real estate, enough to let her estimate the house’s worth at somewhere over half a million dollars. Even if he didn’t own it free and clear, he had to be pulling down decent bucks to afford payments on the place. Not that it made him any less of a dork, of course.

She climbed the short flight of cement steps up to the front door. As she was about the press the doorbell, she glanced at her watch, which gave the time as 7:25.

She hesitated. Did she really want to do this? It was so embarrassing to have to deal with him, of all people! She turned as if to leave, then turned back. She did it several more times, caught between her need to speak with Dorfman and her resentment of having to do it.

Finally, with an angry shake of the head which made her bobbed hair bounce, she pressed the button. It was exactly seven-thirty P.M.

NOW:

“You understand,” Seth explained, “I’m filling in a bit here. I have a camera mounted above my front door, so I can see who’s there—I’ve got a little palmtop monitor linked to it—so I was able to watch her, but of course I couldn’t read her mind. Some of the details I could guess from what I saw; others, Rhoda told me herself later.”

Kevin nodded. He was fascinated. “Go on,” he urged.

Seth smiled. “Okay, now as I was saying, Rhoda rang my doorbell right on schedule....”

THEN:

Seth Dorfman opened the door. “Come on in,” he urged.

Rhoda obeyed.

Dorfman’s living room gave further testimony that he was prospering. An expensive flat-screen TV dominated one wall; a faux chandelier illuminated the room from above. A comfortable-looking couch rested against the wall across the room from the television. Plush chairs flanked the couch, and a slatted wooden coffee table whose brass support frame rested on clawed feet stood in front of it. Bookshelves full of books, CDs, videotapes and a small number of DVDs lined a third wall. Big windows lined the outside wall; during the day they would flood the room with sunlight.

“Very nice,” Rhoda murmured before she could stop herself.

“Thank you,” Seth said. “But I didn’t invite you over to show off my furniture.” He gestured toward an inside doorway. Rhoda took the hint and stepped through, and Seth followed her.

“In here,” he said, pointing toward another door and then moving past Rhoda to open it. “I’ve been working on something you need to see.”

Rhoda was beginning to feel a little uneasy. Why the hell had she let herself be talked into this? Sure, the guy hadn’t tried anything, but still—! Nevertheless, she stepped through into the other room, whose only light at the moment streamed through the open door.

Against the opposite wall there stood a large circular disk mounted on a sturdy frame. Seth waved a hand at it and said, “I’ve been working on this for quite some time now, Rhoda.”

“What does it do?”

“I’ll show you. Sit, sit, make yourself comfortable.” There were a couple of office-style chairs on roller mounts; Seth pulled one of them over, offering it to Rhoda.

Rhoda sat, and Seth crossed the room. He reached behind the disk and did something. Then he reached into his shirt and pulled out a pair of sunglasses, which he put on.

Rhoda had just time enough to wonder why he would need the shades in a dimly-lit room before the disk in front of her erupted in a coruscating blast of light. Colors pulsed and throbbed, chasing one another around and around in a whirlpool of hues which grabbed the eye and held it.

“Fascinating, isn’t it?” Seth’s voice emerged from somewhere beyond the spiraling lights which were all the dark-haired woman in the roller chair could see. “It’s amazing the tricks light can play.” His voice seemed to be moving now, away from the disk, as if he were crossing the room, but Rhoda still couldn’t see him. “Especially with the help of the human brain.”

There was a sound, and suddenly the lights in front of Rhoda seemed even brighter. Some part of her mind realized Seth had closed the door, cutting off the competition from the light outside the room.

“What do... you mean?” Rhoda wasn’t sure what Seth was talking about. It was hard to understand, hard to think, with those beautiful whirling lights sweeping across her vision, around and around.

“It’s very simple.” Dorfman’s voice took on a patronizing tone. “The brain is a wonderful thing. It can recognize patterns better than the best computer algorithm ever written. Babies can tell the difference between a jumble of lines and a pattern that looks like a face as soon as they’re born.

“The brain is so good at finding patterns, in fact, that it’ll find them even where they don’t exist. Animal shapes in clouds, the face of Jesus in cracked plaster—anything and everything.”

Rhoda was dimly aware that Seth was now standing behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders. Shouldn’t she be upset? But the lights, she had to follow the lights, follow the lights. It was so relaxing to follow the lights, and Seth’s droning on about the brain was so boring it was making her sleepy anyway.... She yawned.

“That’s all right, Rhoda,” Seth assured her. “Just relax now. Relax, and watch the lights.”

After a few seconds’ pause he went on. “Now as I was saying, the brain will work to find patterns even where they don’t exist. So it occurred to me: what if I could use that? What if I could find a way to generate a random display that would actually trap the brain into trying to find a pattern?”

“Why... would you want... to do that?” Rhoda was so relaxed now, watching the pretty lights, letting them swirl across her vision, swirl through her brain, sweeping away thought.

“Fixation,” Dorfman answered. “Anything that fixates a person’s attention can be used in hypnosis.”

“Hyp... hyp... ?” The word was too much, too hard. It was easier to just relax and let the soothing voice explain while she followed the lights.

“That’s right, Rhoda. Hypnosis.” Seth brought one hand up, brushing it lightly through Rhoda’s hair. “Don’t try to think about it, Rhoda. You were never any good at thinking. Let me think for you. Just watch the lights, follow the lights, and let me think for both of us.”

“Let you... think for both of us.” Yes. It was so much easier to just follow the pretty lights as they spun around and inward, around and inward, and let Seth think for both of them. Rhoda sighed happily as she relaxed further.

NOW:

“Holy shit,” breathed Kevin.

Seth grinned. “And I was just getting started.” He nodded toward the silver-coated woman standing at attention in front of the two of them. “That took a while. But at least I knew my equipment worked as it was supposed to.”

He laughed. “You know, you see these hypno-disks all the time on TV and in the movies. They don’t really work, of course, not unless the subject is fully cooperative. But my... private research had convinced me that a more refined version was possible, one which would genuinely ensnare even an unwilling viewer—at least one who was taken by surprise. The success of my mini-strobe at the party was an encouraging sign that my disk would work.

“And the disk was much more powerful. The strobe’s effects would wear off quickly, because I could only use it for a few seconds at a shot without running down its tiny battery. The disk I could keep going as long as I needed. Once I’d lured Rhoda in front of it, I could take my time with her. All I had to do was keep from accidentally hypnotizing myself; that was what the dark glasses were for. They dimmed the spiral enough so that if I were careful not to look right at it for too long, I wouldn’t go under.”

Kevin nodded.

“It was while I was testing out how far under she was that the idea occurred to me to convince her she was a robot. In fact, she gave it to me....”

THEN:

Seth pulled the other roller chair over so that he could sit facing Rhoda. He reached out, taking her chin between the thumb and first two fingers of his right hand and tipping it up slightly so that she was facing directly into his eyes. Her own eyes were slowly rolling in their sockets as they followed the beautiful lights.

“Look at me, Rhoda,” the electrical engineer commanded. “That’s it, look straight at me now, look at me and listen to me carefully.”

“Yes, Seth,” Rhoda whispered. Her eyes were steady on his now.

“We’re going to have a little talk, Rhoda,” Seth told her. “I’m going to ask you some questions, and you’re going to answer them. You’re going to tell me the truth, the whole truth, and only the truth, Rhoda, because you know lying is bad and because you can trust me. We’ve known each other since we were in school, Rhoda, and I’ve never done anything bad to you, so you know you can tell me anything.”

“I can... tell you... anything.”

“That’s right, Rhoda. Anything. Now just listen, and answer truthfully. And each time you tell me the truth, you’ll feel pleasure.” Seth smirked as inspiration struck. “Sexual pleasure. Telling me the truth turns you on, Rhoda.”

He led her through a set of questions he’d carefully prepared ahead of time. The first was simply what her name was; the next few asked her to describe what she’d been doing that day, up until he’d answered her ring of his doorbell. Each question after that, however, notched up the level of potential emotional stress. His suggestion that she feel pleasure when she told the truth worked, however, overwhelming whatever resistance might have built up. Along the way, in response to a question about her job at Amalgamated, he learned that she’d been in middle management there. It made sense—she’d been bright, but totally uninterested in the science he had found so fascinating.

Finally he reached the crucial query. “What’s your ultimate fantasy, Rhoda? Your ultimate intimate fantasy?”

“I... I...” For the first time, the brunette seemed to struggle. Her eyes, still facing Seth’s but still seeing—partially eclipsed by his head—the turning disk with its flowing pattern of lights, began blinking rapidly.

Seth had thought this might happen. Rhoda was still under, but pleasure suggestion or no, she was having trouble with the invasive query. It wouldn’t be a problem, though.

“Just relax, Rhoda,” he told her. “Relax, and trust me, and let the lights wash away your worries, and remember you can trust me, it feels good to trust me, it feels good to tell me things, even things you wouldn’t tell anyone else, because you know you can trust me, and it feels good....” Round and round he led the hypnotized honey in the chair in front of him, each suggestion leading to the next, then the next, until they arrived back at the first, over and over, while her eyes followed the lights.

Finally he tried again. Rhoda was totally out of it. If it didn’t work this time, it never would. “Tell me now, Rhoda. What’s your ultimate sexual fantasy, the one you’ve always dreamed of?”

“I—” Again the brunette faltered, and Seth swore silently. Then Rhoda spoke again: “I always wanted... to be a robot. To be a... sexy robot... doing my master’s bidding. I even...” Again she hesitated, then plunged on, “I even bought... silvery skin and hair dye once. But I never... !” She ground to a halt.

“You never used it,” Seth completed her sentence. “Tell me if that’s true.”

“Yes, that’s true—ooohhh!” Rhoda’s reply ended in a gasp as his earlier suggestion hit her again. “I never—used the stuff—uhunnnghh!” Her head tipped back and her eyes rolled up into her head as a powerful jolt of pleasure went through her.

Seth sat silently for a little bit, thinking. He’d had plans for Rhoda. Big plans. But what she’d revealed to him promised something even better.

He’d nurtured a fantasy for years about building a gorgeous robot girlfriend. He’d never been quite crazy enough to think he really could do it, but what the hell, a fantasy was a fantasy. Now, though, it turned out that the flesh-and-blood female he’d lusted after futilely in college secretly fantasized about being a sexy robot.

And here she was, totally hypnotized, completely open to any suggestion he might give her.

Oh, yeah.

She wanted to be a robot? Okay, she’d be a robot.

Seth stood, went over to the turning disk and flipped the power switch off. At once, the dazzling swirl of colors across the disk’s surface vanished, and the disk itself slowed to a halt. He returned to his chair.

“Rhoda,” he said, “I want you to imagine you’re really a robot, just like in your fantasy. Look at yourself, Rhoda: your skin gleams silver, doesn’t it. See it gleam like metal, Rhoda.”

The woman held up one arm and gazed wonderingly at it.

“Yes, that’s right,” encouraged Seth. “Make it real to yourself. See it, feel it, believe it.”

Rhoda’s other hand came up and pressed against her cheek. Her eyes widened.

“You know it’s only pretend, but it seems so real, doesn’t it, Rhoda. So real. It turns you on, doesn’t it. It turns you on so much you forget it isn’t real, because you want it to be real.”

The dark-haired woman’s breathing was fast and ragged now, and she was sweating. “Oh, God, yes,” she moaned.

“You need release now, don’t you?” Seth smiled at Rhoda. “You need sex. You’re lost in the fantasy, and you’re so turned on, and it doesn’t matter that it’s not real, it seems real.”

“Yes! Yes!” Rhoda was fumbling with the buttons of her blouse now. “Yessss!”

“You’ll do anything for me now, won’t you, because you’re a sexy robot and I’m your master.”

“Yes!” Rhoda squealed. “Anything! Sexy! Robot! Master! Yes—!”

It was all Seth could do to maneuver the entranced and wildly aroused Rhoda out of the disk room and down to his bedroom without being dragged to the floor. As it was, by the time they reached the bed, her blouse and bra and his shirt had been cast aside.

The next couple of hours passed in a hot fog pierced by incoherent babbling. Each time Rhoda came, she cried out the same words: “I’m a sexy robot! Yes, master! I’m a sexy robot! Yes, yes, yessss!”

At last, exhausted and in danger of dozing off helplessly, Seth called a halt. “Relax, Rhoda,” he instructed her. Relax. Listen to your master, robot Rhoda, and relax.”

“Yes, master,” came the answer. Rhoda stopped writhing against him and collapsed limply atop his sweat-soaked form.

“It’s time for you to go home now, Rhoda.” Seth wasn’t ready to deal with her full-time just yet, hypnotized or not. And after just one session of programming, her robot persona wouldn’t be stable anyway. “It’s time to go home and go back to your regular life.”

He disentangled himself from his hypnotized bed partner and stood up. “Come with me, Rhoda.” He beckoned and turned to go.

“Yes, master.” Rhoda Gleason stood up and followed him back into the room where the hypno-disk was set up.

A few minutes later, still naked, she was sitting in front of it again while the intricate whirling colors swept across her eyes and through her mind. Facing her, dark glasses the only things he was wearing, Seth gave her some final commands.

“When you leave here, Rhoda,” he decreed, “you will waken from the trance you are in and be fully alert. You will go home without thinking about where you’ve been this evening, go to bed, and immediately go to sleep. When you wake up in the morning, you will be your normal self, relaxed, refreshed. You will remember coming here, and remember what happened, but you will remember it only as a dream.”

“Remember,” Rhoda mumbled, “only as a dream.”

“You will find it exciting to think about that dream. Arousing.”

“Exciting,” Rhoda repeated, her voice a low moan. “Arousing.”

“You will decide that dreaming about me that way means you find me somehow attractive after all,” Seth continued. “You will find yourself thinking about dating me. Even if you don’t want to date me”—no sense pushing it, at least at first—“you will find yourself thinking about it more and more, because of the dream, the exciting, arousing dream.”

Rhoda moaned again. There were no words this time.

“And Rhoda, this is very important,” Seth said. “If I ask you to come over to my house again after work, you’ll say yes. You don’t need to think of it as a date, unless you want to, but you’ll come on over, because if you do, you might have that dream again. That exciting, arousing dream.”

“Exciting. Arousing. Dreeeeammm—!” Rhoda panted. Her hips bucked in her chair as her hypnotized mind triggered a fresh orgasm. “H-hahhhh....”

“That’s right. The exciting, arousing dream in which you become what you’ve always secretly wanted to become, a sexy robot obedient to your master. And who is your master when you are a robot, Rhoda?”

“You are my master,” replied Rhoda.

Seth shut off the disk and got Rhoda back into the bedroom. At his command, she got dressed again. Seth merely tossed on a robe before ushering her out of the house. He stood on his front steps and watched as she drove obliviously away.

As he finally turned to go back inside, he smiled wickedly. Everything had worked perfectly.

More than perfectly, in fact. His smile widened into a tomcat grin. In trance, lost in her robot fantasy, Rhoda had been a tigress in the sack. She’d been everything he’d ever dreamed of back in their college days when she’d enjoyed tormenting him.

Isn’t science wonderful? he thought gleefully.