The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

This is a work of fiction any similarities between the characters, events, or locations in this story and actual locations, events, or people are purely coincidental.

© 2005 Warlord

Absolute Power

By: Warlord

“Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely.”

Lord Acton

“Power is the ultimate aphrodisiac.”

Henry Kissinger

“Nearly all men can stand adversity, but if you want to test a man’s character, give him power.”

Abraham Lincoln

Chapter 1

My name is William ‘Billy’ Hadley. Gwen, my mom, says these are the best years of my life. NOT!

I ended my sophomore year at Lake County Consolidated High School (LCCHS), home of the Eagles, the same loner loser I was when it started.

I guess I’m a genius. I hope so. It’d be a shame to be this screwed up and have nothing to show for it. Gwen says I take after my dad. I wouldn’t know. We’ve never met.

Dad was playing on the wrong side of the tracks when he got an extremely young Gwen Hadley ‘knocked up’ with me. His family acted with haste to prevent scandal. There is no male name in the space marked ‘father’ on my birth certificate.

Our pre- and postnatal medical care was first rate. Gwen found herself in a new town, living in a huge, paid-for house, located in an upscale suburb. Money is deposited in her checking account, and her platinum card is paid off monthly without fuss. Annually a rather hefty sum quietly arrives in my college trust fund account. We are certainly financially secure.

Every year, a new, fully loaded, heavily customized Denali SUV shows up in the driveway for Gwen’s use. Since I have my license I now get her one-year-old ‘hand-me-down’ Denali and my own platinum card. What a concept! That all should help my situation, but it doesn’t.

Gwen is still the looker she was back then. A long-legged blonde, with high, firm breasts. Her blonde hair hangs down her back, over her tight butt. Gwen’s prominent six-pack, and generally tight physique, are the result of working out four days a week at Gold’s.

I love my mom, and I lust after her with that unfocused unrequited longing of a single only son. Of course I also lust after the ancient librarian at the branch library, the ankle that I caught a glimpse rounding the get the idea. I spend my time lusting and longing.

At home, I have my books and my computer. The scope of my lonesome longing lust is now the entire Internet. I spend the night skipping from one website to another—from one masturbatory fantasy to another.

High School was supposed to help this situation. Lake County Consolidated High School was not a bad place. My schedule of advanced placement and college prep classes was not taxing for me.

My cousins, Brianna and Hannah, were far above me in LCCHS status, as the captain of the senior and JV cheerleaders respectively. They tried to help me fit in. Brianna assisted my becoming ‘sports tutor.’

My greatest success in peer acceptance was as the lab and study partner to some of the LCCHS sports stars. Their continued sports accomplishment was in part due to my tutoring ability maintaining their minimum GPA and eligibility. My unselfish lessons undoubtedly spared me the beating reserved for the uncoordinated nerd boy.

Now it was summer. I spent the first weeks after school ended lounging by our pool, watching Gwen, Brianna, Hannah and their mom, Grace, swimming and tanning in their tiny suits. Brianna and Hannah often brought their cheerleader and dance line partners to swim, exercise, and tan in their even more miniscule suits.

They were all pleasant to me, even laughing at my jokes without any condescension. I knew they were just being polite for my cousins.

* * *

I was on my way to my new summer job. I was to be a summer intern at Mega Chem Labs (MCL) research facility. I really wasn’t eligible for one of these slots. They were supposed to be for juniors and seniors. My chemistry teacher sent a strong recommendation letter, causing MCL to reach down to select me.

I parked my dark blue Denali in the MCL employee lot, hanging the parking tag they sent me from the rear view mirror. Walking in the main entrance I met Carol Bonner, Vice President of Human Resources She pointed me to the conference room where a dozen high school and college students were waiting to begin their internships.

I knew some of them slightly from LCCHS, so I felt a bit less uncomfortable. Carol was with us before long, handing out information packets and giving us a fairly detailed orientation. During the question and answer period, the security guard led us each out for our badge photo and thumbprint.

Right after that, Carol began matching us with our jobs. She brought in a group of MCL employees. As she called our names one by one the appropriate person would step out of the MCL group to escort the intern to their summer posting.

In short order, there were no more MCL group, and I was the last intern in an empty room with Ms. Bonner.

Carol flipped open a file folder as she sat down across from me, saying, “Billy. Can I call you Billy? Your teachers speak very well of you. They use words like maturity and ability to work well with others. How do you feel about your ability to work with others?”

Something odd was going on. I decided not to give a canned answer as I asked, “Can I call you Carol?”

She smiled and nodded as I continued, “Carol, I think I do OK. It depends of course.”

Carol asked the obvious. “Depends?”

I replied, “Depends on what kind of attitude or behavior I’m expected to work with?”

Carol laughed as she said, “Fair enough. I need someone to work with MCL’s resident genius, and I do not use that word lightly. I mean capital-G Genius. Otto Kressinger holds more patents for MCL than all our other chemists combined. ”

She now looked at me carefully as she continued, “Otto can be ‘difficult’ and quite unforgiving of stupidity. He made application for an intern. For obvious reasons I’d like to fulfill his request. Looking over the qualifications, you are the only person with anything approaching the proper credentials to hope to make the Kressinger cut.”

* * *

I met Otto Kressinger. Otto spoke with a thick German accent. I was ‘V-illy’ of course. He was old, moving with a shuffling gait. His brain was not dimmed by his age.

In my first meeting with Otto, he led me through his lab, pointing at apparatus, asking me if I knew how to use it. I was honest. I told him which ones I was comfortable with, those I had used once or twice and those that I had never seen before.

It was the right tack. Soon I was far more involved in Otto’s experiments than any intern could ever have thought of being. He carefully taught me to use every piece of experimental equipment and every device in his extensive lab.

Otto’s lab was an entire detached wing of the MCL complex. It had an outside entrance, right next to the parking area. One controlled-access entry connected it to the slightly larger MCL offices.

Carol was absolutely correct—Otto was a genius, with the pure clarity of intellect that allowed him to explain things to my understanding and then again for his secretary, Jennifer Carter.

Jennifer was his blonde goddess of a secretary. A perfect Nordic princess, with pale skin and platinum blonde hair, Jennifer had breasts just verging on being too big! She looked like the blonde on the label of St. Pauli Girl Beer. Otto called her ‘Angel’.

Every day at noon, Otto and Jennifer left together for lunch, returning about three or three thirty. She inevitably came back flushed with her hair mussed. Otto always smelled of schnapps and called me ‘Mein Fürher,’ while Jennifer giggled in the background.

Didn’t matter—by four Otto hit his stride and we would usually work until midnight.

Some nights, if the experiments required, I would stay with Otto and Angel all night, taking readings or whatever was necessary.

When Otto and his Angel left at noon each day, I would head for the employee cafeteria, take a normal lunch, then disappear back into the lab to read or surf the net.

Otto explained that he had a dedicated T1 line for Internet access outside the company filters or human resources oversight. He told me to enjoy myself while he was enjoying himself.

Today for lunch I was sitting in the cafeteria with Destiny Butler, a ‘senior to be’ at LCCHS. She was saying, “Billy, you just better watch your self around that cuckoo doctor. Diana Swane, the Vice President taking over this division, arrives today. She’s rumored to be the MCL hatchet man. Everyone in the place figures Otto’s lab will be her first stop. The old fool is on his way out. Just don’t you end up going with him.”

There was no point in trying to defend Otto. On the other hand, I never shared anything that happened inside his lab.

I said, “Destiny, we have a week before school starts. These jobs go away anyway. Who gives a rats ass if some dyke bitch decides I get a week next to my pool instead of punching in here?”

Destiny giggled as she gently laid her hand on my arm, saying, “You just be careful. If you’re lying next to the pool I want to be there with you. No fair starting early.”

Destiny stood. Suddenly, she leaned down to give me a peck on the cheek. Turning quickly, she was off, with her high heels doing their ‘click clack’. I stood up more slowly, wondering where that had come from.

I sauntered back to the lab. No porno today. Otto had given me a modest experiment to supervise while he and Angel were at ‘lunch.’

I was on my stool writing my observations on my clipboard when Hurricane Swane blew into Otto’s lab. Her first words were, “Who are you? What is all this crap? Where’s Otto? Goddamn it, I asked you a question. Who the fuck are you anyway?”

I finished my notes, then turned. Diana Swane was an incredibly good-looking woman. Her legs were long and her tits were large. She dressed in a skirted suit, with a short tight skirt and thin spaghetti strap top under her jacket to emphasize her ample charms. She had short black hair, with her aviator sunglasses on top. Her high heels were just a bit too high and thin to be completely business appropriate.

If rumors were true, I and every other man would get to look but not touch Ms. Diana ‘I like girls’ Swane.

I put down my clipboard as I said, “I’m in the middle of a series of observations so I’m a bit distracted right now. And you are?”

I thought she was going to have apoplexy. She finally got her jaw unclenched enough to introduce herself. I pulled off my right latex glove sticking out my hand as I introduced myself.

Diana shook hands as she repeated her inquiry, “Where is that old fool Kressinger?”

I replied, “As I said, I’ve been engrossed in my project so I can only assume that he left for lunch after he had me start my observations.”

She said, “Nice try, Hadley. I’ll give you full points for loyalty. It’s wasted, however. He’s gone and so are you. Have him call my office as soon as he gets back. ”

With that, Diana Swane turned on her heel. With a staccato rapping on the lab floor, she was gone.

I was oddly calm about all this. What I had told Destiny over lunch was only true. At best I had another week at MCL. I just felt bad that the teachers who recommended me would receive some ugly communication from Ms Swane.

Otto and Angel rolled in about four. Otto had a shopping trip planned for Angel and me. This wasn’t unusual either. Otto often had us pick up various supplies for his experiments instead of waiting for the regular MCL requisition process to deliver them.

I explained about VP Diana Swane to Otto. I emphasized her ‘soon as he gets back’ for him. He airily dismissed us to our shopping trip.

I helped Jennifer button her blouse as I loaded her into Otto’s Mercedes Benz SL600. This was his MCL company ride! We had a long involved shopping list today. It was after six before we were back at the lab.

Jennifer unlocked the lab door for me. She held the door open as I carried the bags of supplies in, setting them next to the door. It took several trips before I locked the 600, carrying the last bag inside.

Jennifer disappeared into the lab as I locked the outside door. I turned, to find a suit jacket, spaghetti strap top, and aviator sunglasses lined up on the end of a lab table. I had last seen all of them being worn by Diana Swane.

* * *

I walked further into the lab. Mixers and other apparatus were running, providing a background noise, which masked any sound.

I turned the corner next to Otto’s office, to confront a scene beyond even my Internet porno fueled imagination.

Otto was standing leaning back against his lab bench. He was naked except for his unbuttoned white lab coat. Diana Swane, naked to the waist was kneeling between his legs, sucking his cock, while stoking it with her left hand, and massaging his balls with her right. Otto had one hand on Diana’s head, and the other tangled in nude Jennifer’s hair, as she knelt next to Diana. Jennifer had a hand on the back of Diana’s head, and the other on Otto’s butt, urging Diana to deeper swallows of Otto’s rampant cock.

Otto saw me, giving me a big smile as he pulled his cock out of Diana’s mouth. He stroked it until he shot cum all over her face. Otto had a serious money shot! He rubbed his cream on her face with the head of his dick while continuing to hold her unresisting head.

Diana settled back on her heels while his Jennifer Angel inhaled Otto’s cock, cleaning it of his spending. He stopped Jennifer, having her settle back on her butt. Diana was still sitting with her hands demurely and incongruously in her lap.

I was standing rooted with my mouth wide open. I’m sure my chin was on my chest!

Otto calmly walked over to me with his cock half engorged. He was silent. Otto waved his right hand in front of my face. I smelled almond. I was utterly insensible before I left my feet.

* * *

My eyes opened. I was groggy. My mouth felt dry and fuzzy. My vision cleared as my brain began operating again.

I was sitting in Otto’s office, in front of his desk. I realized my wrists were shackled to the arms of my chair. It dawned on me that I was naked to the waist. I looked up to see Otto, but it wasn’t!

Otto laughed as he began speaking in quite good quality accent free English. “Hello, William. I’m sure you have many questions. Let me tell my story, then I will freely answer any question you have. We have plenty of time. You are nearly ready to receive my bequest.”

I shook my head, trying to clear it, as I said, “You’ve changed.”

Otto gave me a big smile as he replied, “This is my actual appearance. I don’t need to play comic opera doddering German genius with you any longer Billy. You had ample provocation to gossip, yet you never did. Even when you knew that it meant your job you loyally tried to cover for me. This is why you are the recipient of my going-away present today. ”

I looked at Otto as my eyes cleared. He looked about fifty, fit and athletic, with a full head of black hair. To say that I was confused would be a significant understatement. Otto continued, “I really am quite old and incalculably evil Billy. I graduated from college in Germany before World War Two. I was a medical doctor. My major was biochemistry. I met Dr. Joseph Mengele who took me with him when he went to Auschwitz Concentration Camp. Mengele was called the ‘Angel of Death’ for his experiments on camp inmates.”

I was totally silent as I looked at Otto. My eyes must have been as big as headlights. Otto went on, “I, too, experimented on those unwilling inmates, Billy, without any compunction or conscience. There was no oversight. We could do as we wished, without consequence. We had absolute power in those camps. I learned by horrific trial and error how the human body absorbed medicines. Injection, muscle and venous, inhalation, pills. How best to deliver for quickest absorption and best utilization by a body. I killed inmates by the railcar-full, as I learned my lessons.”

Otto paused. He retrieved a water bottle, squirting it in my mouth, soothing my throat. The act was so at odds with his narrative I could not process it. Otto went on, “My goal was simple, and complex. The drug delivery was not the end but the means. I was designing and then refining my ‘obedience drug.’”

Otto paused to give me more water before proceeding. “My experiments with those literally thousands of camp inmates meant that, by 1944, I had a working, injectable drug that crushed free will, conscience and social mores resulting in unquestioning robot-like compliance. Only by those many deaths did I succeed in synthesizing a working drug. I seriously doubt if a researcher without access to so many thousand expendable human subjects could replicate my success.”

Now Otto retrieved an IV stand from his office closet. He hung a thousand milliliter bag of sterile saline water solution with tubing terminating in a butterfly intravenous needle. Otto taped my left hand and fingers to a small padded board immobilizing it.

He efficiently used the butterfly to start an IV drip in the back of my left hand. When Otto opened the clamp on the bag, the cold water from the refrigerated bag chilled my hand.

Otto moved a small table next to my chair. He stacked several handfuls of ten-milliliter syringes and their needles. Next he lined up unmarked ampoules. Then packs of alcohol swabs. I was unworried, merely curious. That should have been a warning right there!

Otto looked into my eyes as he continued his story. “Our leader, Hitler, was an idiot. We had jet planes before Pearl Harbor; in his infatuation with the war in Russia we did not use them until it was too late. We had a modern assault rifle design, yet went to war with the same bolt-action rifle he used in World War One.”

Otto adjusted the flow from the IV bag as he began injecting the contents of one ampoule after another into the tubing flowing into the vein in the back of my left hand.

Otto looked at me carefully, gauging my reaction, as he continued. “I concluded my experiments. I cleaned up after myself—killing anyone who might connect me to the camps. I used a mild version of my drug to attach myself to Von Braun’s rocket team at Peenemunde. The end of that war was the beginning of the cold war with Russia. The cold war made allies of enemies.”

Otto was back to his measuring and injecting. He gave me more water as he went on, “The United States had an immediate post war program called “Operation Paperclip.” Any German with ‘needed’ skills was moved out of Germany into the US of A. Put to work defending against the Red Menace. Right at the end I was a rocket fuel chemist with Von Braun. I ended up working for Thiokol, formulating fuels for the Minuteman rocket and Mercury missions. As people lost interest in the war years I ‘remembered’ my biochemistry degree, moving to MCL. Using various versions of my obedience formula, I made my niche here.”

Otto paused to check the flow from the IV bag. He looked over the IV site, pronouncing my veins ‘excellent’ just before he proceeded with his story. “After more than sixty years of refinement, I have many versions of my drug with various potencies. Some last a day, others a month. The injectable drugs last the longest, one a year and the other forever. There is a powder to mix with food, drops to mix with drinks, pills, aerosol spray, and the shots.”

He smiled happily as he continued his lecture. “The drug’s effect has been refined with less robot-like response and more an imprinting, leaving the subject’s personality and intellect. The end result is less about mere obedience and more respect, devotion and love, all leading to even stronger compliance. The subjects with the longer-term treatments are attuned to you, anticipating your wishes, focused on your happiness, comfort, and, of course, sexual pleasure.”

Otto held up a four-inch-thick, three-ring binder crammed with pages. He began explaining in some detail the manufacture of each version of his ‘obedience’ drug. Then he dropped his bombshell on me. “You’re probably wondering about the drugs flowing into your vein.”

I giggled as I said, “It has crossed my mind, yes.”

Otto laughed in genuine amusement. “The drugs have several effects, including making you immune to mind altering or mind controlling drugs, improving your health, lengthening your lifespan, changing your brain function, sharpening your intellect, improving your sexual response, making you more appealing to women.”

I queried, “Pheromones?”

He answered, “Yes, but more importantly, the combination of drugs your body absorbs actually changes and improves brain function. For discussion purposes, consider it ‘waking’ areas of the brain that are dormant in everyone else. These higher brain functions actually project desirability, attraction and mating. Think of it as your brain broadcasting ‘sex appeal.’”

This was ALL too weird, but I still nodded, smiling happily, as he continued, ‘This brain function naturally enhances the obedience drug. The other thing enhancing the drug effect is propinquity.”

I asked, “Pro- what?”

Otto laughed again. “Closeness. You will dominate your harem by your mere presence. Your harem of submissive women will affect each other, reinforcing your dominance and the drug effect, and will additionally influence other women who are not drugged—just by being in your home or near your group, perhaps at the mall or in school.”

I asked, “My harem?”

Otto now looked serious as he replied, “I asked your fondest wish, who you crave. The yearning and hunger in your belly. You wrote names on that paper.”

He pointed at a yellow legal pad on his desk.

* * *


In Chapter Two