The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

James Gilbertson groaned sleepily, yawning slightly as he stepped inside the living room. “Sorry,” he said, yawning again. “Took me a little while to get fully woken up again... luckily Maddy is a light sleeper. What did you find out?”

“Well... I’m not really sure,” Eugene said, biting the tip of his pen as he typed. “That’s why I asked you over here. Take a look at this.”

James peered forward, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as Gene turned the computer monitor to face him. “Eh? Lines of computer programming text? Sorry, my boy, but I’m no computer expert.”

“Aye, I know, but I am,” Gene said wearily, scrolling down the screen. “The wee ones found this inside Lacie Ann’s CD ROM drive, a CD labeled simply ‘Relaxation Therapy’. Lacie always used to let the wee ones use her computer to play their computer games, and Wee Katie has a penchant for slipping downstairs to play when she should be sleeping.” He pointed at the screen. “Whatever THIS program is, it nearly put the whammy on the lot of us. A few seconds of looking at the screen and hearing that weird hissing from the speakers, and it was all I could do to look away.”

“So, some kind of audio visual program laced with hypnotic subliminal messages, then?”

“Aye, that would be my guess. Look here,” he said, scrolling further down. “I know enough programming to know that all of these commands are for pixel manipulation, and these down here are found sound... but I’m not familiar with these settings. I was hoping you could help with that.”

James stared at the complicated formulae listed, mentally working out the solution even as he searched deep within his memory for the correlation. After a moment he nodded, giving a low whistle. “Amazing. Simply amazing.” Glancing back at Gene he continued. “You remember how I once mentioned that in my early years I did a lot of contract work with the government? It was the Vietnam Era, and back then the government, particularly the military, was interested in anything with practical applications that could be used to help defend the country. Besides the usual special weapons projects, we did research into mind control and the use of subliminals. While we had a few successes, we were never able to fully perfect the method, never get a stable permanent effect that would work on everyone equally.”

He sat back, rubbing his eyes. “You probably know the standard subliminal frequency used in those experiments back them... you know, the ‘Drink Coke’ and ‘Eat popcorn’ ads put into movies. It’s pretty much common knowledge now; do a thorough web search, or Google it, and with the write equipment you can create a flicker effect that bypassed the conscious mind and sends information directly into the unconscious mind.” He smirked slightly. “As you also probably know, under most conditions, subliminals are very ineffective, the messages being ignore or misinterpreted by the unconscious mind, and at best, only simple one or two word messages are picked up. Send anything detailed or complicated, and the mind ignores it. Well, if my math is right, the formula he’s using as his flicker frequency is a complex algorithm that, theoretically, matches an alternating Theta-Delta-Theta brain wave pattern.”

“Ah, so, yer basically saying that the blasted thing is set up not only to send messages into your brain, but the entire thing is set up at the same frequency as a person’s brain waves when they’re asleep or dreaming?” Gene asked, scowling deeper.

“Exactly,” James affirmed. “I don’t know who came up with this, but its bloody brilliant. It certainly goes far beyond anything we accomplished in our hay day. If we’d had something like this back then... " He shuddered slightly. “If Lacie was exposed to this program on a regular basis, it would certainly account for her odd behavior. The question is, who gave this to her? Who’s been controlling her?”

“Dr. David Thorne,” Gene answered, matter-of-factly, scrolling further down the screen. “All of the commands seem to be geared to ensuring that she was completely obedient to him, as well as causing a subtle but undeniable sexual attraction to him,” he said growling softly. “Come to think of it, she mentioned briefly around midterms that she’d gone to visit him about all the stress she was under. She said she’d only gone for one visit, and that he’d taught her a few relaxation techniques, that she hadn’t had to go back to him after that... but now I’m starting to wonder if even SHE knows how often she’s been having ‘sessions’ with him.”

James grunted his assent, and pulled out his cell. “Who are you calling?” Gene asked.

“The police, who else? Have them pick up my daughter and bring her back home, then have them lock this Dr. Thorne away and throw away the key!”

Gene sighed deeply. “I thought about that, too. A lot. Soon as I found this CD. But, well, we dinnae really have much to give them in the way of evidence. I mean, what would we even tell them? That she’s been kidnapped, held against her will? If they try and take her away from him, she’ll swear its US that are trying to kidnap her, and it’ll be their word against ours. Even this—” he said, pointing at the computer, “—isn’t enough to get anything done tonight. Your average policeman isn’t going to understand all of this computer code. I’m a electronics and software specialist, and I still needed your help to figure it out. On top of that, even if they do have some whiz kid able to decipher exactly what this is and what it does, they could always claim that I created this nasty little program to try and get my ‘estranged’ wife to come back home.”

James nodded, conceding the point. “Looks like you have thought about this. So... what do you propose we do? Surely you’re not going to let this drop?”

“Of course not. But we’re going to have to proceed carefully. I need to know more about this Doctor Thorne before I confront him. If we just go charging in there without knowing what we’re facing, we end up in a very bad way.”

David Thorne was in a very bad way.

By the time the poisoned dart had worn off enough for him to move, he’d absorbed the complete contents of his own subliminal program. Literally a prisoner within his own mind, he’d responded calmly and amicably to all of Pete’s inquiries, giving him truthful answers to his every question, telling him all about his own operation, and his partnership in his club, the Putty Tat Lounge. He’d sat calmly as Pete used the keywords he’d provided to snap the girls out of their trances, placing them back under their Master’s control. He’d watched all this with a detached stoicism that betrayed the angry frustrated screams going on inside his head.

Worse, as a reward for his ‘good behavior’, Pete had subjected him to several of his own special CD’s, to make sure the doctor was properly neutralized as an adversary. While the rest of them had slept the night, Thorne had sat, watching each disc, obediently destroying what little was left of his rational mind with each successive dose. He had just finished the last one by the time the others awoke, and he’d sat there, staring idly at the blank screen, his mind so wrapped up and bound under layer after layer after layer of control that he could no longer even remember his own name without permission.

“All right, I think you’ve had enough,” Pete had said with a grin, closing his laptop. Thorne continued to stare straight ahead, vacantly. Pete had chuckled with glee. “Hmmm. Maybe you had a bit too much. Oh well... all’s fair in love and war, professor, and you declared war on me when you tried to shut me down last night. Tried to... because instead, you gave me a number of gifts that will be very useful to me in the future. Besides,” he’d added with an evil glint in his eye, “where you’re going, you won’t have much use for them.”

And now he sat in the passenger side seat of Lacie’s car as she drove him across the city, the small remaining fragment of his mind wondering idly where he was going, and what would happen once they got there.

Lacie growled softly under her breath as she drove, still fuming at the man sitting quietly beside her. She wanted nothing more than to claw his eyes out, to pound him into a bloody mess and rip him to shreds. Released from his spell, she and the other girls had remembered what he’d done to them, and only their Master’s command to stop had kept them from killing the poor bastard with their bare hands.

To think I’d actually respected him.... even liked him, all this time! she groused inside her head. He used me like a damned pawn... used all of us! Worse, he made me hurt Master! She gripped the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles went white. In the end, Pete had forgiven her, of course. She hadn’t had any control over her actions, and he hadn’t taken it personally. Lacie, herself, had been devastated, begging for his forgiveness every time he gave the slightest indication of pain or discomfort from the blow. Again, the very sight of him sitting next to her made her want to beat him to death with her fists, and again, only her Master’s command kept her from it.

“Ah, perfect. We’re here,” she said, driving just past the police station, pulling in to a building just across the street to park. She took out the small flask of gin her Master had given her, and poured it liberally over the autistic doctor. She handed the rest to him, and commanded him to drink it. He obeyed, downing the potent liquor without the slightest sign of discomfort. Checking the street to make sure they weren’t being watched, she leaned forward to give the man his final instructions.

“Alright, my little wind-up tinker toy,” she purred, “in a moment, you’re going to open the car door, step outside, and make your way over to the police department, and walk inside. Once inside, you will do everything you were programmed to do. You will follow your programming exactly, without deviation, and you will let nothing and no one stop you. Do you understand?”

“Yes. I understand.”

“Good. Very good.” Taking a deep breath, she spoke a single word: “Rosebud.”

Thorne’s eyes widened. The net that had so tightly bound his psyche loosened, and self-awareness returned to him for the first time in half a day. “Waahhhh?” he tried to ask as Lacie unlocked the car doors. He wanted to ask what was going on, what was happening, but even though his self-awareness had returned, he still had only rudimentary control of his body—he still seemed to be operating on auto-pilot.

Lacie chuckled darkly, seeing the question in his eyes. “A little something extra I persuaded Master to add in. It’s not nearly as fulfilling having you destroy your own life if the real you isn’t even aware of what’s happening. Go now. It’s time.”

Shit! Thorn yelled in his mind as his hand opened the door. He stood up and made his way across the street, walking in a stumbling, broken gait. His shoulder was still broken, and a pulse of intense pain flared up every time his body jerked. He almost wished he WAS drunk; sadly, the small drink of gin he’d taken earlier to complete his ‘role’ was insufficient to dull the pain. Weaving, stumbling, mumbling incoherently under his breath, he made his way slowly but steadily to the police station. Taking a large rock from out of his pocket, David could only watch from inside himself with horror as he took aim and threw it squarely into the main front window, shattering it.

“You buncha fucking bastards!!” he yelled in a drunken slur, unbuttoning his pants. “You fuckers! Think you can get away wit’ this shit? I want justttiiss, goddammit! Fuckin’ jusssiss!”

Several policemen came outside at that point, looking for the source of the commotion. “Well, well, well! the fuckin’ boysss in blue!” he taunted, weaving slightly as his pants slid down. “You punch of beckerwoods... this is what I think of you!” Aiming with amazing precision, he let go with his bladder, sending a stream of urine across each of the officer’s shoes, catching halfway across his pants. Yelping in anger and disgust, the men swarmed in, trying to apprehend and subdue him, only to pull back again as the obvious drunk stuck a hand deep into his own posterior.

“You fucking shitheads!” he raged, staggering towards the closest officer. “Take my fucking licenseses away? I’ll show you... I’ll show you how full of shit youuuuuhhhnnnn!!”

One police officer, having had more than enough, had pulled his taser and fired. Thorne shook wildly as the voltage flowed through him, continuing to shudder slightly as he hit the ground. Inside his mind, Thorne wailed pitifully, humiliation flowing through him like a river. The jolt he’d received should have sent him down for the count, but his body, still following its instructions not to stop until his mission was completed, refused to quit. Jerkily, a hand reached down for his pants pocket, struggling to reach his last nasty little surprise. As the policemen grabbed him, pulling him back to his feet, he jerked his hand free of the pocket, tossing the small glass vial onto the ground at their feet.

The glass shattered, and a thick white vapor cloud issued forth. Several of the officers cried out in alarm, covering their mouths, backing away. Thorn, coughing as well, stumbled out of the cloud, struggling to catch his breath and force clean air into his burning lungs. Shit! Ammonium gas grenade. Not toxic, but potent enough to make some of these guys cough up blood. He coughed again, gagging, as his body stumbled on, resolutely, towards the doorway of the police station.

“Hold it!” one of the officers yelled. “Somebody stop that maniac!”

A hard rap of a nightstick across his injured shoulder sent him down once again. The other officers charged in, raining down blows as well, intent on making sure he was completely subdued before the backed off this time. Lacie watched with gleeful satisfaction as the battered and bloody man was eventually cuffed and dragged into the station. Personally, would have had him go charging in, guns blazing, to die in a hail of retaliatory fire, but Master had insisted that he avoid provoking the police to respond with lethal force. Seeing the condition he was in when they finally stop beating him, it seemed to Lacie that they’d stopped just a hairsbreadth from ‘lethal’.

Oh well. His mission to get himself arrested was a definitely success. His mental conditioning will have him causing enough trouble that when they finally bring him to court, the judge won’t throw the book at him, he’ll throw the whole library at him.

Lacie waited until the rest of the police headed back inside, then she started her car. Checking the time, she cursed slightly, turning to the left. “Shit. I’m going to be late.” Peeling out, she drove for the connector, heading back towards downtown, and the University. Today was her Master’s big day, and she couldn’t be late.

Eugene Frasier gripped his steering wheel tightly, trying to force himself to calm down. He glanced again at the GPS tracker he’d installed on his computer laptop, and again forced a calming breath into his lungs. Lacie would pass by his location in less than thirty seconds, and even though he was prepared, he felt anything but ready to see her again. His hurtful words echoed hauntingly in the back of his head, and he remembered all too well the look of disgust and hatred on her face as she’d turned and walked out of their house the last time.

I must be insane to even be planning this, he thought to himself for the dozenth time. Following her around, waiting until she’s alone, then grabbing her, kidnapping her, and forcing her to come back with me... I must be nuts. If anything goes wrong... if anyone sees me, or hears her scream—fat chance that she’ll agree to come along quietly... He lightly fingered the revamped stun gun hidden in the pocket of his pants. Well, I’d always said I wanted the chance to personally perform a field test on one of my company’s prototypes... looks like I just might get my chance.

Lacie’s car raced by seconds later. Resigned and resolute, Gene pulled out from the parking lot, merging smoothly into traffic, making his way into place two cars behind her. He’d taken precautions against being recognized—everything from driving a rental car and wearing dark sunglasses to shaving off his beard and goatee and wearing a fake mustache—but still he felt horribly exposed, as if his wife could simply feel his presence and know it was him. His grip on the wheel tightened even more. He had to succeed. Somehow he knew that if he missed his chance to grab Lacie now, or she somehow managed to escape him, he knew he wouldn’t get a second chance. Failure was not an option.

I’m not going to let her end up as some bimboized stripper working at his damned club, he swore silently.

Unable to sleep the night before, he’d spent his time doing more research into his adversary, David Thorne. Retired from the industry, he had, nevertheless, kept a list of important contacts in various levels of the government as well as private business. It had taken a while to dig past Thorn’s squeaky-clean exterior image to real man hidden beneath, but eventually he’d discovered the source of an undisclosed revenue. A little more digging showed that a large number of the dancers from the Putty Tat Longue had direct ties to Dr. Thorne: former students he’d taught, former teachers and other co-workers, even his ex-wife. He had no idea what happened to the males, but it seemed that the majority of attractive females that crossed his path, or tried to oppose him, ended up as a new attraction at his strip club.

He’d spent the next several hours gathering and documenting as much proof as he could father in Thorne’s shady dealings, hoping to eventually take him down for good. But that was for the future. For the moment, his entire focus was on getting Lacie back and undoing the damage that he’d done to her.

I only hope her dad was able to finish with the alterations he was making to the subliminal program disc I gave him, he thought as he changed lanes, letting a sixteen-wheeler pass by, keeping Lacie’s car in view. It’s all going to be a moot point if we can’t snap her out of it and break her conditioning. She’d just ran right back to him the minute my back was turned.

His inner monologue quieted as he followed Lacie off the interstate, taking the University exit. Wondering why she would possibly be going in to the University now with everything currently going on between them, he slowed, increasing the distance between them just to be safe. His confusion deepened as he followed her through the campus, finally pulling to a stop in the parking lot surrounding the football stadium. He parked a few cars down and across from her, one of the few empty spaces left. Despite being mid-morning on a weekday, the parking lot was packed, and the sounds of an almost-full stadium gathered for some big event could be heard even there in the parking lot.

That’s when it hit home, and Eugene realized the sheer scope of the plan Lacie was embroiled in. Shit! This must be D-Day, the day when he plans to enslave the entire school at one time. Shit! I can’t let her go in there! Slipping out of his car, he made his way swiftly over to Lacie’s car just as she was getting out.

“Lacie! Stop!” he called out to her, holding up one hand, the other sliding deftly inside his pocket. “I need to talk to you.”

“Who?” Lacie asked in surprise as the stranger stepped up to her—no. No, it wasn’t a stranger. Even with different hair, she recognized him now. “Eugene,” she said distastefully, a scowl creasing her lips. “Go home. I have nothing to say to you.”

“You don’t have to talk, just listen,” Gene said firmly, grabbing her by the arm as she walked by. “I know what happened. You’ve been brainwashed. Someone is controlling your mind, making you act this way.”

“Bastard! Let me go!” she screamed, trying to pull away. “Damn it, Gene, just leave me the fuck alone!”

“C’mon, Lacie! This isn’t you!” Gene insisted, holding tight. “I know what’s going on. I found the CD of subliminal messages Dr. Thorne sent you in your computer back at home. I know what he did to you! Dammit, I’m trying to HELP you! Right now your dad is working on a program that will undo all the changes he made to your mind. You just have to come back with me!”

“I... will... never... come... back... with... you!” she snarled, punctuating each word with a vicious kick, fighting desperately to get free. Gene, grunting with each kick, finally let go, but retaliated by snagging her around the waist as she tried to scurry past. Held from behind, she screamed her frustration.

“Well, this feels like déjà vu to me,” Gene said chuckling, as he hauled her slowly back towards his car. “You screamed just that same way the day I came home early to help with Katie’s birthday party and surprised you. You hit me then, too, but you were in a much better mood.”

A short series of screeches sounded behind him, and Gene turning, cursing loudly as a patrol car pulled up across from him. “Ah, hell. Campus security. I’d hope I could do this fast enough to avoid something like this.”

“Too bad!” Lacie growled, still struggling to get free. “Soon as they get here, they’ll make you... you... yyyooouuu...”

Gene felt Lacie’s struggles still as she went nearly limp in his arms. “Lacie? Loveling? What’s wrong?” Turning his head, he glanced to where Lacie was staring, slack-jawed and frozen, at the campus security car. At the car’s roof... and its flashing red strobe lights.

Red

Remembering her seizure a few months ago, he quickly turned her away from the lights, feeling her stiffen slightly, then sag in his arms again, panting softly. By now, the first security guard had reached him, standing just at his left side holding a small canister of pepper spray at the ready. His partner approached from the right, catching him in a pincer attack.

“Put the woman down, pal,” the first guard said, gesturing with his free hand. “Let her go and walk away, and no one will get hurt.”

“You don’t understand,” Gene said, sliding one arm free as he backed away, sliding his hand slowly towards his pocket, hidden partially by Lacie’s body pressed against him. “She’s my wife. We’re just having a little... um, tiff. That’s all.”

“Let her go, now!” the second guard yelled. “You’re got to the count of three. One. Two...”

Ah, bloody hell, Gene groused, resigned to his fate. “Okay. I’m letting her go.” He released Lacie, stirring from her fugue, stumbled about for a step or two before sinking to her knees. Gene, one hand still clutching the gun in his pocket, smiled, turning towards the officer. “You see? All you had to do was ask nicely.” Lining up the nozzle as best he could, he pulled the trigger.

Two small darts sprang free, leaving a small hole in his pants pocket. The two needle-thin probes struck true, catching the guard in the chest. A second later, a small but powerful arc of electricity jumped between the two leads, and the man dropped like a stone, hitting the ground shaking. He whirled around, squeezing off another shot, hoping to catch him unaware before he could retaliate. It almost worked. He did indeed hit the second guard squarely in the chest, but the guard, falling, clenched down on his own trigger, firing wildly but dealing Gene a crippling blow nonetheless.

“GAaaahhhh!!!” he yelled, clutching his face, slipping to the ground as well, just barely resisting the urge to claw frantically at his burning face. He was confident that the shock darts would keep the two security guards out of commission for at least the next half hour before the charge died. The problem was that Lacie had already snapped out of whatever kind of spell that strobe lights had put her under. He only hoped he recovered before Lacie did.

Somewhat disoriented, Lacie shook her head to clear it. She’d almost remembered... something. Something that seemed important, something having to do with the red that seemed to shine somehow behind her eyes. Whatever it was, however, it faded quickly, along with her desire to care. She was late. She needed to get inside the stadium to stand beside her Master at His moment of triumph. Glaring down at the gasping, struggling form of her soon-to-be EX-husband, she felt a wicked urge to take steps to make sure he would no longer be a problem in the future.

NO! NOT GENE!

But... no. No need to deal with him now, she realized after a moment. Her Master was more than capable of dealing with any minor inconveniences, as he had with Dr. Thorne. Besides, she was running late enough as it was. She needed to—

LOOK AT THE RED.

Look at the strobe lights again? No... there wasn’t time for that. Still, she felt a strange compulsion to gaze back at the spinning pulsing scarlet lights once more. She took a step towards the stadium, then another, and another, fighting against the almost magnetic pull of the strobe lights behind her. She took another step, even as her body began to turn back towards the car. Towards the pulsing strobes of red.

Red.

Red.

RED.

Images flashed before her eyes, tinged in red, flaring up inside her mind in a steady pulse, timed perfectly to the strobe effect of the lights. Sights, smells, memories long forgotten yet tantalizingly close battered at her, at a barrier within her mind, a sparkling ruby red barrier that seemed to pulse in perfect time with the red flashing in her eyes. FLASH. An image, a memory of herself, but not herself. FLASH. A feeling, a deep overwhelming sadness. FLASH. A man, one that she loved more than life itself, saying goodbye, promising to return. FLASH. An empty crib in a dusty room in a large house, never seen before, yet so very familiar...

FLASH. A young man’s face, with a charismatic smile.

FLASH. A beautiful blonde woman, regal and elegant, yet her face full of hurt and sadness, her face streaked with tears.

FLASH. An older man, heavyset with graying hair, a look of stunned surprise on his face, slowly moving away as he fell from a great distance...

FLASH. Pain.

FLASH. Loneliness.

FLASH. Anger.

FLASH. Frustration.

FLASH. FLASH. FLASH. FLASH.

Lacie stood there, rooted in place, her eyes and her mind wide open as the lights continued to spin and cycle, bright bursts battering away at her psyche, her very being seeming to ring in response, vibrating, resonating perfectly with each strobe. Inside, several voices were shouting, yelling, a virtual cacophony of sounds, marring that perfect resonant chord, becoming an unbearable pain, building in intensity, straining more and more at the boundaries in her mind. Above them all, one voice, her voice yet not her own, continued to grow, building, building, a soft whisper becoming an all-consuming scream.

Pulse. Pulse. Pulse.

FLASH. FLASH. FLASH.

The inner scream she felt inside her was echoed by Lacie’s true voice as she screamed her agony, feeling that ruby crystalline barrier inside her crack, beginning to give, vibrating like mad with each rapid-fire pulse.

When it finally shattered, so did her mind.

My eyes again adjusted to the brightness of the room, and after a moment or two I was able to glimpse the speaker. A tall figure sat several feet away, resting comfortably on what I could only think of as a throne, sitting in the middle of a raised stone dais at the far end of the room. He wore a black suit of fine leather, complete with matching boots, gloves, and cape, all of which contrasted starkly with his white pale skin. He had jet black hair, and sported a goatee, nicely trimmed, I noticed as we drew closer to his location. He held a large glass of wine idly in his left hand, not drinking from it, probably just as part of the image he portraying for my benefit. He looked very impressive, but I was just too done with all of this to be impressed.

Standing in front of the giant crystal, I kept my gaze on Jeremiah King to avoid being drawn in too quickly. “I have only one condition,” I said after a moment, preparing myself. “When all this is said and done, I want you to use your ‘almighty powers’ to give me back everything you’ve taken from me.” I glanced at him sideways. “That’s not too much to ask, is it?”

He chuckled darkly. “No, not at all. Frankly, I was expecting something more dramatic from you as payment, like thirty pieces of silver.” I winced slightly, as he turned to face the crystal, hands outstretched. “For this to work, you need to face the gem, stare deep into it, and will your power into it.” He grinned evilly. “I’ll do the rest. Trust me.”

The red seemed to pulse lightly, faintly, throbbing... almost like a human heartbeat. I blinked, averting my eyes again as a reflex as a wave of dizziness swept through me. “No,” King’s voice spoke beside me, echoing strangely in my head, “don’t turn away. Stare deep into it... let the gem pull you under its sway. Remember... you have to will it your power. You must willingly give it up for me to give you what you truly desire.”

Resisting the urge to resist, I forced my eyes back to the gem. The pulsing seemed to intensify, almost strobe-like now. The dizziness swept over me again, but I forced myself past it, trying to stare deeper into in, letting it suck me in. My stomach rolled, and the ground seemed to shift underneath my feet, but I gritted my teeth, determined now. Slowly... ever so slowly, the dizziness passed... the ground grew solid again... or rather, everything else in my world became as shifting and formless to match. The red pulsing light seemed to be coming from everywhere at once now, surrounding me, penetrating me...

Lacie remembered.

Opening her eyes, she waited a moment for the world to stop spinning. Regaining her balance again, she glanced around to get her bearings. The two security guards were still down, shuddering now and again. As for Eugene...

“Lacie, love,” Gene, red-faced and tearing, panted softly, clutching her shoulder gently but firmly. “You’ve... got to... come home... with me.”

Her heart skipped a beat. He was hurt, because of her... but she didn’t have time to reassure him. “I can’t Gene. I’m almost out of time. I have to get to the stadium—”

Gene pulled the dart gun from his pocket. “I hate to do it this way, love, but you’re not giving me a choice here. I’m sorry.”

But Lacie was expecting it. She knew her husband, knew his reluctance, and used it to her advantage. She spun to the left, just dodging the pair of darts as he fired, reaching out to grab his wrist, using her momentum to twist his arm and pull the gun free. Before he could do more than gasp in surprise, she had fired, point blank. Electricity sparked all about his chest as he fell, hard, joining the two security guards in their involuntary writhing.

“I’m sorry, my love,” she whispered softly with regret. “I don’t have time to explain, but I have to stop Pete before he triggers everyone in the stadium and makes them his slaves forever. I’ll be back... I promise.” With that, she ran across the parking lot and entered the stadium.

Entering the halls, she forced herself to calm down, schooling her features into a mask of serenity. The barrier inside her mind had shattered; she knew now exactly what she had to do. Guilt over the pain and anguish she’d caused had to be pushed away for now, to be dealt with later; for now, she had a duty to perform.

“AH! There you are!” Pete said, adding the last few finishing touches on his ensemble. Considering the magnitude of what he was doing, he had chosen to dress the part of a future ruler, complete with a purple cape. “I was afraid you weren’t going to make it here in time. I trust everything went as expected with the not-so-good doctor?”

“Oh, yes, my Master,” Lacie purred. “After everything you put in his mind, he was lucky the police officers didn’t beat him to death. As it was, it was a very near thing. We won’t be hearing from him again anytime soon.”

Pete laughed. “Good. That takes care of the last problem I had to deal with.”

“Not quite... Master,” Lacie murmured softly.

“What was that?”

“Forgive me, Master... but you’re not quite ready to go on stage yet. You could use a little concealer to cover those dark circles around your eyes, and the bags underneath them.” She turned him to face the mirror. “See? You look as if you haven’t slept in weeks. All that time working on your computer, and of course, having sex these past few days has really taken a toll, don’t you think?”

“Really? You think?” Frowning, he peered intently at his reflection. “Yeah... I do look a little run down, now that you mention it.”

“I mean, just... Look at your eyes...” she continued softly, moving around to whisper softly in his ear, “look at the way the lids are dropping... you look so tired... Master... so very tired... and your eyes seem so heavy... so heavy... every time you blink, it becomes harder... and harder to keep your eyes open... it would be so nice to just rest... to close your eyes for a little while... just for a minute or two, not long, just for a moment...”

“Just for a moment,” Pete murmured in reply, his eyes blinking rapidly for a moment.

“Yes... Master,” she purred again, smiling wickedly. “Just letting your eyes close... for a minute... it would feel so good... to rest, just for a moment... it’s okay to rest, here, just for a second... it’s perfectly okay... Master... to let yourself rest... to close your eyes, let yourself go...” smiling as his lids blinked slowly, opening, then closing slowly again, “knowing it will feel so good to rest... feels so good just to close your eyes... let them rest... resting... eyes... closing... now.” His eyelids slammed shut.

“Good, very good... Master,” Lacie added, gently caressing him, establishing physical contact as she began deepening his trance. Once she was sure he was completely under, she began stroking the slight bulge at his crotch. “In a few minutes, you will be ready to go out and address the crowd waiting for you in the stadium, to put them all permanently under your control. Once you speak the trigger, you will control them utterly; they will be unable to resist your commands. And what better way to prove your power over them than by speaking the trigger phrase that will release them from your control and allow them all to remember everything, knowing they will be unable to do anything about it. That’s a very good idea, isn’t it?”

“Yeesss... good idea...” he replied, groaning in pleasure as she continued to stroke his hardening manhood.

“Good, Master... very good. You’re doing very very well. But now I need you to do me just one favor... a favor that will make your sweet obedient little slave girl very happy.” Unzipping his pants, she freed his now stiffened cock. “And when your slave girl is very happy... she makes her Master feel very very good. You do want to feel very very good, don’t you, Master?” she asked, stroking him with an agonizingly slow rhythm.

“Yyyeeesss... feeels goooddd,” Pete slurred, jerking slightly at the sensation.

“And you want to make your slave girl happy, so she can make you feel good, right Master?”

“Mmmm... yes... happy girl...”

“Then, as a favor to me... when you open your mouth to speak the trigger that will enslave everyone... let silence come out of your mouth instead. You will hear the word spoken in your mind as if you’d said it aloud, but you will NOT speak the word. You will remember having spoken it, but you will NOT speak that trigger. Do you understand?”

“Not... speak... trigger... will hear it... in my head... will remember... but not... speak...”

“That’s a good boy,” Lacie said, stroking Pete’s cock one last time, before putting it carefully back inside his pants, straightening his clothes again. “Do this for me, my Master,” she said mockingly, “and you’ll make me very, very happy.”

“Very very happy,” Pete agreed.

“Alright... Master. It’s time to awaken and go fulfill your destiny. You won’t remember going into a trance, or anything that you were told while you were hypnotized, but you will act on all the suggestions you’ve been given. Now then,” she said, stepping back, snapping her fingers, “awaken!”

Pete blinked, shaking his head. He yawned, blinking again. “Huh? What?”

“See, Master? You are tired. Once this is all over, you’ll need to take a nice long nap to recharge you’re batteries.”

“I’ll think about it,” Pete said dismissively, primping a few more seconds before moving to the door. “Alright. Wish me luck.”

“Break a leg... Master,” Lacie said as he made his way to the announcer’s box. “In fact, break both of them.” Sighing softly, she turned and walked back out to the parking lot.