The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Despite what you think, most of us in the behavior modification world like to hang out with each other. It’s a club of nerdy people that have a taste of power, but still are usually insecure about things. I have a good friend I keep in contact with, Kevin, who I met at the local Comic Con. The Comic Con happens a week before the convention for those of us that have learned how to modify people’s behavior, typically against another’s will. Kevin and I bonded over comic books, and our love of making people do as we say.

The BeMod Con, as the behavior modification convention is called, is where we get to show off what we’ve been up to for the last year. Kevin showed off a new form of light directional projector. The fifty-Con means the even most outlandish and self-destructive commands are followed fifty percent of the time. Kevin’s invention cuts the time to fifty-Con down to eleven seconds. I think Kevin really liked the attention he got for his invention.

I presented my latest pharmaceutical concoction that is odorless, tasteless, and clear as water. It is a primer to get someone far more receptive to subliminal commands. I didn’t get a chance to quantify the results of my human experiments, so it wasn’t a big surprise that only one guy from a drink company handed me a card telling me to call him on Monday.

There are a few rules about BeMod Con. One, the staff are off limits. If you want a woman, bring in one from outside. Two, no controlling your other convention goers. If someone is at the convention to show their stuff off, you don’t get to try and control them and take their money, inventions, or glory. Three, don’t go trying to control the money men. Governments and businesses come to BeMod Con to find out new things in the behavior modification community, and buy our inventions or services. You don’t get to make them want to buy your products in any way other than non-mind controlling ways. There are other ways to get a contract.

If you see a beautiful woman at BeMod Con, then chances are they are either a government plant, or someone’s slave. We all bring in slaves for BeMod Con, either to show how much our techniques and/or inventions can control a person, or to help present our techniques to the money men. I personally brought two slaves with me. After the floor show on Saturday, I took them back to our room and fucked them until they had orgasms so powerful, they passed out.

I love sex, any guy loves sex, but I like sex with women that have large muscles, huge breasts, and low body fat. I have behavior modification techniques that let me have just that. The slaves with me, I call them Alpha and Beta when acting like my slaves, have the bodies of fitness models, and that’s what they do for a career. When not working to show off their bodies I am usually using those bodies. I’ve trained Alpha and Beta in various sexual techniques to enhance my pleasure. I don’t really give a damn about their pleasure since they only get pleasure from my own. So, when they are naked, making out with each other, fingering each other’s nipples, and I’m plowing into one pussy and then the next, they only care about what I desire. I desire being so powerful that when I ram my cock into their dripping twats over and over again, they have an orgasm so strong and powerful they have a full body squirting orgasm that makes them pass out. I love having the power to make a woman achieve such a pinnacle of sexual pleasure their brains can’t handle it and shut off.

Kevin and I were hanging out after the Saturday presentations at the BeMod Con and just shooting the shit about the state of comic books. We were saying that everything was movies and the print media had gone downhill in both story lines and pages. There was a twist that the interest and scope of comic books had exploded with novels, TV shows, cartoons, and of course movies, but not print. Somehow, we got on the topic of the Cosplay at the Comic Con the week before.

“Those people at the Cosplay contest were pitiful,” Kevin was saying with his deep voice. For a guy as short and slight as he was his voice was amazingly deep. His hair was blond and starting to go bald in his mid-twenties. He wore thick glasses, which if he didn’t have them on, he’d be legally blind. Kevin always seemed to be up for anything and had seemingly unlimited energy.

“That one woman that went as Savage Land Rogue that was covered in tattoos was embarrassing,” I agreed. I say that because she was at least a hundred pounds over what she should have been to pull off the costume. I can also say that because I spend five days a week at the gym bulking up my small body. I got into exercising a few years before, when I fought off the fat and the pre-diabetes that was coming with it. I changed my diet and lifestyle and love it. I eat healthy and my body, although not tall or good looking, is amazingly fit. I now have more muscle tone than ever before in my life.

“That one guy that went as Captain America looked like he had a girdle incorporated into his costume,” Kevin said shaking his head. “I thought that there was a rule about buying your costume. I swear he did not make that.”

“How about the woman that went as Electra,” I laughed. “I swear when she flexed her bicep the rest of her arm sagged.”

“How about the stupid questions that any self-respecting comic fan would know?” Kevin scoffed. “Seriously, who doesn’t know that Lex Luthor originally lost his hair due to a chemical fire?”

“Or who was the first Spider-Woman?” I echoed. “I swear the crowd was practically yelling ‘Jessica Drew’ at that guy that was actually dressed like Spider-Man.”

“We could do better,” Kevin said drinking his drink and thinking.

“We could get people to do better,” I said. “Do you want to?”

“What?” Kevin asked.

“Use our behavior modification techniques to make the ultimate Cosplay woman?” I asked.

Kevin grinned at me. “You want to make women dress in costumes for our pleasure?” Kevin asked with a knowing grin.

“Yes, yes, I do. Let’s make a wager,” I said. “I bet you that at next year’s comic book convention Cosplay competition, someone under my control will have a higher score than anyone you put up.”

Kevin looked skeptical, “How many women can we enter?”

“Let’s say, three,” I made up a number off the top of my head.

Kevin looked at me suspiciously. “Okay, but they can’t already be into Cosplay,” Kevin said. “You need to start from scratch. You also can’t use someone you’ve already taken control of. You need someone new.”

“I can work with that,” I said already thinking. “I’ll enslave women at my gym and turn them into muscular Cosplay fanatics.”

Kevin scoffed. “It’d be easier the other way around,” he said. “I’ll take women who already know the difference between Doctor Strange and Doctor Fate and turn them into sexy babes.”

I held out my hand to shake. Kevin took it as I said, “We’re just doing this for bragging rights, correct.”

Kevin grinned taking back his hand. “And to have sexy women in tight costumes that have to obey our every command,” Kevin said with the smile never leaving his face.

“I’m going to win,” I said settling back into my chair.

“You wish,” Kevin replied.

I didn’t waste any time. The next day at the gym I was scoping out who I wanted to enslave. It’s not like the movies where you put a bag over someone’s head, inject them dramatically with a syringe, and then toss them into the back of a van. I am far more subtle than that.

The primer that I had developed works insanely well. One drop and the person’s subconscious mind do not have a filter to subliminal sounds if they are mixed with a fourteen Hz square wave. That’s where an invention that I got from a colleague helps and it is a Bluetooth interceptor. If someone has a Bluetooth signal from their phone to their headphones than the interceptor, intercepts the signal, mixes it with my subliminal messages with the fourteen hertz wave, and their mind accepts everything that goes into their ears. This is stage one.

I had to be sneaky to put one drop of the primer on the women’s water bottle mouthpiece. It worked incredibly well. The interceptor clicked over flawlessly. It took about ten minutes for stage one to have full effect on a person. By the time my two-hour workout was over I had six women ready for commands to proceed to stage two.

You may be wondering why six women when the bet was for three. The short answer is my process is not perfect. My ability to control people depends on the person. My fifty-Con is the ten minutes of stage one, but the ninety-Con is usually a day. Ninety-Con is when a person will obey any destructive, murderous, and impossible command nine times out of ten. To get one hundred percent or total-Con you must have one hundred people obey any command regardless of preconceived notions, upbringing, and the laws of physics. I’ve never gotten better than ninety-seven people. I’ve been trying for total-Con for years, and have yet to make it, but my pharmaceutical improvements from my company have been getting me closer.

I also picked six women, because we agreed to enter three women into the competition, but that doesn’t mean I only need to train three women. You never truly know how a person will look when they develop bulging muscles, drop their body fat down to five percent, and have breast implants that would certainly produce lower back pain in the future. I would also have no idea how quickly the women would pick up comic book lore. If a woman just will not remember that Wonder Man’s real name is Simon Williams, then I shouldn’t enter her. I want to win this bet.

Stage two came that night. It was a long night. I brought the six women into my home, and every single woman said they weren’t sure why they were there. I gave them drinks and told them that I wanted to be their trainer and was going to give them my sales pitch. Of course, the drinks were spiked. My sales pitch was on a ‘video’ and I had them looking at my enormous TV screen when I started the brainwashing for stage 2. Each woman got two injections, one in one arm and the second in the other. This put their minds in a very receptive state by subduing their frontal lobe and linking their amygdala to sensory input. The sound from the TV, and the spiral images with words that flash up are linked together. They see and hear input that don’t get filtered and links this input to their base emotions and self-awareness.

Stage two doesn’t take long, that’s the good news, but right after stage two I need to implement stage three, or all that work is undone. So, stage three is where the women take a short survey, in a type of hypnotic trance, and that survey is input into my computer program to make their sensory input more specific. Like I said, everyone is different, and only using one brainwashing technique will always lead to failure. You need to be subject specific. Everyone in the behavior modification world either knows this or learns very quickly. The problem is stage three involves direct commands. This trance they are in doesn’t let them do anything voluntarily, so I must tell them to take off the headphones, I need to tell them to do things like use the toilet, and I have to tell them to take the further surveys.

By morning the women are at stage four. This is something they will do on their own after the first time I use it on them. Again, it is a drug that can go into anything without alcohol, and they drink it to open their minds. They then watch a video, usually on their phone, for half an hour that inputs commands. They take a survey at the end, and that modifies the program to change the inputs for the next day. At the start of stage four they usually have ninety-Con, and after a week of stage four they have a near one hundred percent obedience. This week later is when I start making commands and start thinking of them as my slaves.

Stage four goes on for a month. Every day they will have their special drink, watch the video, take a survey, and go on about their lives like normal unless I’ve given them commands. After a month of stage four we get to stage five. Once a week they take their special drink, an hour later they take a survey, and then watch a reinforcement video that may, or may not, be modified to make sure they are still under my control. I do have a stage six and seven where I wipe their mind and personality traits to leave them an empty shell and then build back their personality however is desired. Thankfully for these six women I don’t plan on selling them and they’re not a special order, so I can leave their personalities in place, but with my commands in their minds.

The commands were quite simple, at first. I need them to get their bodies into the hard stage of body building. Most, there was one exception, were in the Full House stage where you have large, full, and powerful muscles under extra fat and water. The one exception was in a Hard stage where her muscles were rounder, she had very low body fat and water weight, and she looked amazing with muscles budging whenever she moved. All these women were now engrossed in body building. Four hours a day, six days a week, they would have to go to the gym and start pumping iron. They would push their bodies, hard, to make sure every muscle in the group they were working on was sore just before the point she would need medical attention. The next day the women would work on a different muscle group. I loved watching them workout, and they loved I was watching them workout.

I say they loved me watching them workout, because I used stage four to link their obedience to my pleasure, and my pleasure is linked to their continued mental function. That and I like my slaves devoted to me, and only me. This was tricky with the one woman that was married, but I just had to magnify all the things her husband did to piss her off. She was filing for divorce a week later. Three of the women had boyfriends, and a week later they were all single. Now I had six women, all devoted to me, working out their bodies, and learning all about the comic book culture.

If you’ve never picked up a comic book, I don’t want to look at you. You offend me! Comic books are the media that I would prefer to indulge in more than anything else. You have fantastic stories that could never happen in real life. You have characters that are above and beyond anything normal people live with. People have bright skintight costumes over bodies that nature would never provide. Comic books are not just an escape from the real world, but an escape to a world far more interesting and eventful than the real world could ever be.

The issue (no pun intended) with comic books is there is nearly a hundred years of history to catch up on. Not just print media but cartoons and movies. My slaves would have a ton of homework to do just to come close to learning everything there is to know about comic books. The comic convention’s Cosplay competition involves not just looking the part, but answering progressively harder questions, while still in costume and character, and this gets factored into a person’s total score. You not only have to look, and act, like your character, but you also need to know as much as possible of every comic book character’s back story, current story, and any visual media in existence. Thankfully I have a large collection and know where to get more.

It was two months into the bet, which Kevin and I had, when things started to crop up for me. The women were working out their bodies and were somewhere between the Hard and Cut stages. Their muscle groups were starting to show, and the women’s faces were starting to go from round to thin. I needed to put them on supplements to keep them looking like women.

The next problem to show up was that one of my slave’s ex-boyfriend wanted to get back with her. This showed with her latest survey she still had feelings for him. I squashed those feelings right out of her and put her back on the path of complete and total love and obedience to me.

It was also at this time I noticed that the red head I grabbed was an idiot. I don’t use that term lightly since I consider everyone to be smart about something, except for her. I’m not sure why she has the brain power of a ten-year-old, but she does. I’m amazed she’d been able to make it on her own for as long as she had. Try as we might, and everyone pitched in including Alpha and Beta, but she couldn’t retain anything. As regretful as it was to abandon a woman that would have been perfect for Red Sonja, after she got breast implants, I sold her off. There was a geeky guy that had a huge trust fund that was willing to pay a good chunk of that fund for his own obedient slave. A week of stage four again and she was his to do as he wished with continued brainwashing at stage five and a yearly subscription so I would supply him with his slave’s special drink.

Thus, I was down to five slaves. I’d been talking with Kevin every few days either over the phone or by DM, and we decided to compare slaves. I picked out my three best ones, and Kevin and I showed up at a park to watch our slaves exercise with the free outdoor equipment. We both had a long way to go.

Kevin’s slaves were not what I would call pretty, good looking, or even handsome. They were dull looking, plain in many ways, and less than even a little attractive. Kevin waved this off saying that he was still working out the bugs. He had one blond woman, one red head woman, and a woman with hair so black it almost shined blue. Except for the raven-haired woman none of them would have come close to being Cosplay ready, even by last year’s standards. The only thing they had going for them was that they knew everything there is to know about comic book culture and were totally devoted to Kevin.

Kevin’s go to technique for enslaving women is light and sound. More power to him for figuring out an algorithm that used micro expressions on a person’s face to manipulate light and sound to put them into a trance so deep and powerful they are open to any command given. Kevin’s technique does have flaws, but those flaws can be overcome with things like brighter lights, louder sounds, and the person wearing glasses or having hearing aids. It’s only people completely blind or completely deaf that Kevin can’t control.

Kevin asked about mine, and it was my turn to brag. My women were absolutely getting to the Defined stage of body building. Their muscles were starting to show all the time. Veins and striated muscles were popping out when exercising. Their body fat was so low they were always saying how cold they were. Then there was the fact that next week they were all getting their breasts done. I didn’t tell him about there were in fact five slaves, and not just the three he was seeing.

Of course, Kevin had to bring up their education in the comic culture. This was a sore point that was being brought up nearly every day. My slaves were saying they didn’t have enough time for everything. They had moved in with me to save on rent, but other things were expensive, like breast implants. The idea of food was also getting to be a concern since to build muscle they were eating a lot of protein. Between exercising, education, and trying to keep their day jobs, things were becoming hectic.

I knew I was well on my way to winning the bet, but my slave’s money concerns were getting to be an issue. Thankfully my other slaves Alpha and Beta had solutions to this. Online videos of the women exercising would bring in some money. Private online videos of the women exercising naked brought in even more money. The secure and private online videos, of the women having hot lesbian sex, were bringing in the most amount of money. The number of subscribers to all their videos ballooned after they got their breast implants.

I should introduce my slaves. Understand that when I picked them there were certain considerations in mind. They needed to come close to looking the part already. You can’t make a Disney princess out of someone that has been hit with an ugly stick every day of their lives. I also didn’t want someone super short. Every comic book character out there is close to six feet if you look online. I also was looking for someone that when muscle was put on their body they didn’t look like a freak. That being said, I present to you in alphabetical order, my Cosplay Slaves.

Alison was the only one married at the time I took her. She looks like she’s in her early twenties, but she is in fact thirty-four years old. With light brown hair and light brown eyes, she was also the only one that I didn’t need to start from scratch with the body building. She has the height of about five feet nine inches, and her shoulders really have developed nicely. Her skin was pale pink, and her hips gave me a sexy vibe when she walked. I pictured her with double-D breasts, wearing black fishnet stockings, a black shirt, and a short blue leather jacket. With her hair dyed blond she would be a perfect Black Canary.

Dian was the one that wanted her boyfriend back, and I stopped that. She is the shortest of the bunch at five feet six inches tall. Her ancestors had to have come from Africa with her dark brown skin and black hair the way it was. Dian was also very slim to begin with, so bulking up was going to be dramatic for her. She’d gone from slim to toned in only a few months, and it was clear that bulk was just not going to happen for her. Given her body shape only C-cup breasts would look good on her small body. Looking her over and given her height, I pictured her as Bumblebee.

Karla had the narrow eyes of someone that had a grandparent or great grandparent from Asia. Her hair was black and straight, and she stood at a proud five feet ten inches in height. When I put her in heels, she was six feet tall, and she absolutely would be wearing heels. Karla had the body of someone that would be comfortable no matter how she looked, and she was going to look amazing when I was done with her. To start with she needed to get double-E breast implants. Then, given her hips, her legs, and her middle that were making her look like a cartoon, I had one vision for her. Imagine purple highlights in her black hair, purplish-blue knee-high boots with four-inch heels, and the same color latex material barely covering her cleavage and privates, but also bands of the material on her arms and legs. Give her a red belted sash, and a long, curved sword, and you’ve got yourself Psylocke.

Laura is huge. She was big before I got to her. She’s the only one that I can comfortably say was six feet tall without footwear on. Her dark brown hair, and dark brown eyes seemed too suspicious of everyone and everything. I’m not sure how I was able to get the primer on her drink without her noticing. She also had developed huge muscles. Even only a few months after working on bodybuilding she was showing she was going to be a beast. Laura needed to get huge breasts, like triple-F breasts, just to match her enormous frame. With the hair, and the body, and the soon to be breasts, this beast of a woman was going to make a fantastic She-Hulk.

Trista is the only one that read some of the comic books in existence. Trista is also the only one that was close to being smart. She picked up quickly that I had manipulated her mind and emotions. She also knew that it was fruitless to resist me, not that she wanted to, either. Trista stood at five feet nine inches tall and had a great body shape for Cosplay. Her hair was naturally blond, and her eyes were naturally blue. If I gave her C-cup breasts, then there were dozens of women she could dress up as. To go traditional, I figured she would be perfect for Supergirl.

I tell my Cosplay slaves this, as I’m plowing into Beta from behind. My Cosplay slaves were standing at attention in my large bedroom before my large bed. Beta was on her hands and knees giving a squeal of joy every time I slammed my cock into her. Beta was sweating all over my bed and her pussy was drenching the sheets, but I didn’t care. One of my slaves would clean things up while I took a shower. I wanted to take a shower with my Cosplay Slaves, but I resisted. Every woman stood before me naked as I grunted into Beta. Their bodies were beginning to look amazing and even with my dick inside an obedient beautiful woman I wanted to take every single woman standing there with vacant eyes and ridged bodies. With a word they would eagerly welcome my cock into their bodies. However, those bodies were not for my pleasure, yet.

As I commanded my Cosplay slaves as to who they were to portray I climaxed while inside Beta. I filled the condom I was wearing and despite this Beta reacted. Beta went from a squeal to a howl as her body climaxed. Her pussy squirted, her body flexed and then she fell on her face. Her pussy squeezed hard on my cock still inside of her as she started shaking in hips and legs. Beta’s head was nodding fast as the orgasm rippled through her, and her back arched. Then another wave of hard contractions took over her body and her legs shot out, pulling free of my cock, and my bed rocked from her hips bucking wildly. Her orgasm made her voice quiver, and then she collapsed limp on the bed.

I stood up on the floor next to my bed. Beta was leaking out her upper and lower lips. I could see the sweat on her body glisten in the distant light. I could also see every one of my Cosplay slaves had juices of their own rolling down their inner thighs. I asked if they were horny, and they all said at the same time they were. Uniform speaking, and uniform mind, and uniform obedience was something that always aroused me. Still, I needed to wait to take my Cosplay Slaves. They had important work to do. They needed to research their character, so they knew her inside and out. Someone also needed to clean the bed and change the bed sheets. Someone needed to make sure Beta was still alive. I needed to take a shower, so I left my slaves with these commands, and to decide who was going to do what.

Costume design is tricky. Just because they can draw a woman wearing an outfit doesn’t mean, in reality, that outfit would actually look good on a real woman. Sometimes the outfit is easy to make. The Black Canary costume could be found by just going to a handful of shopping stores, maybe fetish stores. Supergirl’s costume would require modification of other outfits. Psylocke would need special material and special ordered boots. She-Hulk’s costume from the original comic book seems like it would be easy to buy, but the rules say it would need to be constructed by hand in order to show off all the muscles a woman would have. Bumblebee’s costume was going to be incredibly involved with EVA foam and lots of planning. Between the five of them, and Alpha and Beta helping, I was sure they could get things put together.

I was wrong. Except for Trista, not a single woman knew how to work a sewing machine. Karla even sewed her finger, and we had to go to urgent care, after she put some decent clothes on first. Alpha took scissors away from Alison before she hurt herself. It took a month for any of them to even come close to showing me their progress, and it looked like crap. I was trying to be patient. I gave them praise. I also said that their first attempt (I knew it wasn’t their first, and they knew I knew it wasn’t their first, but we all ignored that) was great. I also asked if they thought they could improve on their costumes, maybe by trying again, and they agreed. I let them get back to things.

Two months away from Cosplay Day and my slaves were Ripped! If you’ve ever seen someone at the gym, and knew they practically lived at the gym that was what my Cosplay Slaves looked like. Take someone that’s been training in the army for a year, and put them into a woman’s body, and that’s what my slaves looked like. With their big breasts, and muscular bodies I was having a hard time keeping my hands off them.

They were quizzing each other on comic book lore. Every time one of them got a question wrong, they would have to do fifty push-ups. I liked to watch because they often did this naked for the camera.

It was nice to see the costumes were nearly fully constructed. With help from the internet in the form of blog advice and YouTube videos, the costumes were looking near perfect. I did have a low moment when I heard Karla say she didn’t like her Psylocke costume. It seems that Laura didn’t like her She-Hulk costume either since it was going to require her to paint her skin green, dye her hair green, and wear green contact lenses. For some reason this pissed me off. Maybe because work at my pharmaceutical plant was getting stressful or that I had these beautiful women all around me, and I wasn’t going to touch them, or maybe it was the time change, but I was pissed.

I stood before my Cosplay Slaves and took the position as their Master. I had all of them down on their knees and bowing to me. I had them repeating, “I am your obedient slave, Master.” I exerted my dominance over them. I was he-who-must-be Obeyed. Their wants and concerns were nothing compared to following my commands, to do as I say, to make me happy. I told Laura that if I commanded it of her, she would not only paint her skin green for the Cosplay competition but every day for the rest of her life. I told Karla that from this day forward she would have to wear one article of clothing that was latex, and she would love wearing latex, as in sexually love it. In a few short sentences I had each one trembling in fear and the joy of obedience at my commands. All the while they were bowing and saying, “I am your obedient slave, Master.” To show my dominance over their minds and bodies I made them all masturbate, hard, to a squirting orgasm that was so strong it would make them pass out.

I left them like that. I did look back to see the five women on their knees with hands between their legs, rubbing furiously. Sweat was popping out on their either naked or nearly naked bodies. Breasts shook as they started to climax. Mouths were open and slack as words came out in a cry, “I am your obedient slave, Master!” Trista climaxed first, her hips bucking, a spray of cum juices shooting out before her as her body shook and jumped. Diana went next, her dark brown skin glistening with sweat as her pussy opened and cum shot out like a pressurized hose. Then went Alison, next was Laura, and finally Karla jerked with legs jumping and her pussy gently squirting out a little cum. All three fell forward next to their fellow slaves, and lost consciousness while resting on their big boobs, and their asses sticking out. I really wanted to fuck each and every one of those asses. I was gratified that when that week’s survey came around the results showed none of them had lost one percentage of obedience towards me.

I had been letting Alpha and Beta help the Cosplay Slaves with their exercising, costumes, and trivia for a reason. I was busy. I’d, well my pharmaceutical team did, come up with a new topical compound, that was more than just a primer. If one tenth of a milliliter gets on a person’s skin, then it quickly gets absorbed, and in somewhere between twenty and thirty seconds they slip into a dazed and obedient state. I turned the compound into a cream so it wouldn’t roll off someone’s skin, and went and tested it. Thankfully there are lots of colleges, small and large, around for me to go and see how well my compound worked.

I spend all day at different colleges to see how various people reacted to what I was calling c-cream for compound cream. I’d dab a little on a finger that had a finger cot on it, and then approach an unsuspecting person. I smear a little of c-cream on them, and watch as their eyes go dull. Then I’d lead them away and see how much control I had over them. The c-cream seemed to have about a thirty minute direct affect on a person, and then after that the degree of control started to slip. You can do a lot in thirty minutes. What’s more when they came fully awake they remembered nothing, and didn’t seem to care about their missing time. I found this profoundly interesting. I also was seeing how much control I had.

Now, I’ve made compounds before that had various levels of control over a person. I’ve never had a topical treatment that had more than a thirty or maybe thirty-five-Con. That is in the dangerous, do not use, category. That’s why I’d never put much focus on topical treatments until one of my employees at my pharmaceutical laboratory made up a compound with the help from an AI program. I recognized the potential very quickly, and focused on improvements. This c-cream had at least a seventy-five-Con, and maybe an eighty-Con. I needed to do more tests to see just what level it had. I also knew that I could improve upon the compound to make it even more powerful and longer lasting. That’s what I was doing while my Cosplay Slaves were figuring out how to hold scissors.

I’ll confess that I had another reason to avoid my Cosplay Slaves. I really wanted to fuck them. I’ve had a desire for women with muscles for years. Even before I came up with my first drug/visual/audio mind controlling combo I loved seeing women with muscle tone. Maybe that’s from my sexual awakening being caused by comic books. Looking back on the ones I would read as a child the women in those glossy pages all had six-pack abs. Every woman had biceps that would be pronounced even when not doing anything. Their asses looked like they did squats any time they stopped moving. Now I had five women that look just like that, in my house, desperate to fuck me. Yes, I have Alpha and Beta, and I could have made them put on costumes and fuck me until they couldn’t, but it wasn’t the same. I sculpted my Cosplay Slaves to be my perfect Cosplay Slaves, and they were everything I ever wanted in a sexual experience. I just couldn’t touch them until after the Comic Con.

I almost missed it when we were a month away from the Comic Con. I wanted to make sure the women were primed and ready to go. All five of my achingly obedient slaves would line up in their costumes to present themselves. Alison was in her perfect Black Canary costume, right down to the choker. Dian had gotten on her Bumblebee costume where it was a black full body leotard and the yellow looked like gold, but was actually foam, and her wings were techno looking rainbow translucent. Karla squeezed into her Psylocke costume where her large breasts was stretching the blue/purple latex material, and her boots were tight against her legs almost all the way to her barely covered crotch. Laura had taken the extra effort to paint herself green for the presentation, and dye her hair green, try out the green contacts, and somehow fit herself in the purple and white swimsuit like costume that was so tight I could see every one of her abs. Trista took my breath away in her two piece Supergirl costume with the long sleeves, exposed midriff, short red skirt, red boots, and her short flowing cape. I decided then and there that Trista, the smartest one of the group, was also the sexiest, and would be the last one I fucked.

There was one thing left for the women to do before show time. They all needed to become Shredded. I left Alpha and Beta to whip those women into shape. My Cosplay Slaves were going to use that last month to work out six hours a day, and really push themselves. Every muscle group was going to stand out, all the time. Veins would stand out as soon as they moved a muscle. Striations would stand out on all major muscle groups. Their chests would have bulging pectoral muscles with their fake breasts. This is what body builders would do just before competition, and by God the Cosplay competition would get my shredded contestants.

It surprised me when Trista actually asked me, what I was going to the Comic Con as? I hadn’t thought of it. I’d been so focused on c-cream, and was now up to version six that had a nearly eighty-Con with a time span of nearly two hours, and was working on turning the active ingredient of c-cream into a hard candy to suck on that should have an even greater and longer level of control, the idea of what I would dress up as had slipped my mind. That’s when I had the idea of going as a ridiculous character, the Condiment King. He’s so ridiculous of a character that I doubted anyone would pick it. The Batman character had a pickle head covering, dark circular glasses, a blue full body outfit with a ‘C’ on the front and a red and yellow lightning bolt coming off the black circle where the letter sat. Put tight white underwear on the outside, and pressure tanks on the person’s back, and give him pressurized guns, one gun ketchup, and one gun mustard, and you’ve got a costume. I figured it’d take me about two hours to make. I told my slaves about this, and they gushed at the idea of making me a villain.

I set aside the week before Comic Con to make my costume. However the data I was collecting about my c-cream and c-sweet for the BeMod Con the week after meant I was putting off making my costume. I wasn’t thinking about the Condiment King when I was finding that if I prime someone with the c-cream, version ten, and then have them suck on a c-sweet, and while they’re doing that have them watch a certain video while wearing earbuds, then I think I could get total-Con. Every person I tested this process on had become one hundred percent controllable. I was up to fifty-eight people, but there was zero sign of any resistance. I was giddy as a schoolgirl. Then I realized that the Comic Con was the next day. My two hours to make my costume was way off base.

Just making the fake tanks took over four hours. Making a CO2 pressurized extruder that would expel ketchup and mustard at the press of a button took nearly two hours. The easiest thing was to make the logo on a pair of blue long Johns. I was glad that Beta had glasses that looked close. Making a large cylinder of cloth green with painted on ridges for my head covering took the rest of the time. I slept while Trista drove us to the Comic Con.

It was just like I remembered it. There was table after table of comic book creators trying to sell their independent comic books. There were the tables where artists would charge for their signature on comics you’ve never seen before. What I went for was the tables with long cardboard boxes full of old comic book issues. My Cosplay Slaves went off to the Cosplay side of things, and I lost track of them. I did find Kevin after spending a lot of money on comic books.

Kevin was dressed up like a normal looking guy with glasses and a large suit on. He had the Superman outfit on underneath, complete with fake muscles. When prompted he’d pull his dress shirt open to show the ‘S’ shield. He had two women with him, not three, one with blond hair and another with black hair. I had to do a double take to make sure they were the same women I’d seen at the park oh so many months ago. They looked amazing.

The blond woman had morphed into a hard edged woman with enormous triple-D breasts, and sharp features. It was then I realized Kevin had made his slaves get more than plastic surgery on their breasts. This blond woman looked perfect for Emma Frost as the White Queen. She had the ankle high heels that matched her white skin tight pants. The woman’s midriff was exposed to show her well developed six-pack. Then her breasts were contained by a tied together bustier that was attached to a white cape that went around to the back. The woman wore the long white gloves and choker well. The silvery white lipstick and eye shadow added to her comic book like appearance.

The woman with the black hair looked so much like Wonder Woman from the movie I was sure that Kevin had stolen a set costume. Her hair was deep black, and held away from her face by a gold tiara sporting a red star in the middle. Her large breasts were held together by the breast plate that looked like it was made from foam. Her metal looking bracelets were also clearly foam. The blue pleated skirt was so short that if she bent over everyone would be able to see her underwear, if she had any. A golden rope on her hip, a round shield on her arm, and a metal looking sword on her back made her look like a real warrior. The boots looked a little off, like there was something missing from the knee high footwear.

“All that work to get her a six-pack and her costume doesn’t show it off,” Kevin said sounding disappointed.

“Where’s your third?” I asked looking around. “You had a red-head last time.”

Kevin looked embarrassed. “I had to sell her off since she wasn’t going to make a good Cosplay entry,” Kevin said sheepishly. “I sort of got her pregnant.”

“Sort of,” I echoed.

Kevin sighed and looked at his slaves. “Ladies, go find out about the Cosplay community around here,” Kevin said. “Call my cell if you need anything.”

Both women said, “Yes, Sir.” I heard that tone and knew they were saying that because they were in public. They were both really sexy with the way their asses swayed when they walked away. I wasn’t the only one watching them as every other man and a few women couldn’t take their eyes off the women’s derrieres.

“Sort of pregnant,” I smirked again.

Kevin rolled his eyes at me. “I couldn’t help myself,” Kevin said with a whine. “She’d gotten her boob job, and then she’d gotten into her Jean Gray costume.”

“The one from the 90’s X-men?” I asked.

“Oh yeah,” Kevin said looking like he was thinking about the memory. “She looked so sexy in that costume that I couldn’t stop myself. Two months later she was showing due to the exercising obsession I implanted in her. I sold her off to some rich comic geek that had no problem with a pregnant red-head that knew everything about comic books. So where’re your slaves, Condiment King?”

I brought him around to where the Cosplay people were posing for photos with comic book nerds. I showed him where mine were being mobbed by people. It was satisfying to see his jaw drop. “You have five?” Kevin said in shock.

“I’m only going to enter three,” I said with a grin. “Those were the rules we agreed on.”

Kevin was shaking his head. “I need to go to the gym more,” Kevin finally said.

“Yes, you do,” I agreed.

The Cosplay Competition started later that afternoon. I had to pick who was going to be entered. As much as I wanted Laura to enter as She-Hulk, her body paint was rubbing off on everything. You could see the brush strokes on her skin. I was rather glad when Laura agreed that she would probably not win if entered.

I knew that Trista would be on stage as Supergirl because she looked amazing. I also knew that Karla as Psylocke would be a huge hit, and I felt mildly guilty for making her get such large breasts. That left the choice between Alison as Black Canary, and Dian as Bumblebee. When I looked over to see who was filling out the paperwork and saw a woman dressed as Black Canary, not as perfect as Alison but why take the chance, fixed my opinion that there couldn’t be two Black Canaries on stage. Dian would be entered with her Bumblebee costume.

I got to the auditorium half an hour early. It was still packed. I was lucky that Kevin had gotten there even earlier and saved me a seat. I sat down and started telling him about my compound cream and compound sweet. I was going on about how I needed more test subjects and how I wished I had brought my c-cream and c-sweets with me to test them out in the comic con population. Kevin didn’t look happy.

Kevin’s research had hit a standstill. A year before his light induction algorithm had been the highlight of everything. There had been almost no progress since. Nothing Kevin had done would increase the level of control. Kevin wasn’t sure if it was the algorithm, a limitation to the mechanical equipment, or the human mind just will not accept domination so quickly. I felt for the guy, but I also knew that we were some of the smartest people on the planet. If anyone could figure things out it was us. I offered to help, and sitting there in the auditorium he sent over his schematics.

I was distracted when the Cosplay contest MC came out to get things started. I did look up when he started speaking. “Ladies, gentlemen, and other, yes I mean you,” the tall thin man said. He was dressed like Maynard Tiboldt known as the Ringmaster from Marvel’s Circus of Crime. A top had with a spiral disk on it, a green jacket with tails covered in black stars, white gloves, and dark red pants made him look like the comic book villain. “Welcome to the twentieth performance of Can You Cosplay. We will have twenty lucky men and women up here on stage to show they truly know how to be someone from a different world both in mind and body. I am also happy to announce that we have something new for our trivia questioning portion of the performance. Not only will we be asking about comic book characters and events from the past, not only will we hope everyone has watched and watched again every super hero movie out there, but our contestants had better be up on their Master Chiefs, mushrooms, and magic flutes. If you don’t get those references then you’re in trouble. Our trivia questions will now include video game references.”

“Oh shit,” I said and I could feel Kevin grinning beside me.

“You’d better know your cheat codes as well as the real name of Cheetah,” the MC said.

From the crowd someone shouted, “Priscilla Rich.”

The MC smiled at the person in the crowd and added, “I mean the Bronze Age Cheetah.”

“Deborah Domaine,” the same person yelled.

The MC grinned wider when he said, “It is amazing and disturbing in equal measure you know that. Now, let’s bring out our contestants!”

I felt so bad for Dian, Karla, and Trista. There were two parts of the competition and it was all judging. The first part was the trivia and the second was appearance. The thing was in the trivia second you get five questions, ten points each, and the get progressively harder, and you have to stay in character. Dian went first, then Karla and finally Trista. Those girls did me proud with their knowledge of comic book lore. The only question that I felt they should have gotten but didn’t was when Karla missed what version of Iron Man’s armor had the triangular arc reactor. She guessed five, and it was six. She lost those ten points, and the question of who made the game series Myst, and I could hear people whispering Cyan Worlds, but she got it wrong saying Nintendo. Dian missed the question of in Super Mario 3, what was the third world called? She went with Mushroom land and you could hear people moaning even before she was corrected with, it is Water Land. Trista’s first question, so the easiest, was about The legend of Zelda, Breath of the Wild, and what was Link’s ultimate sword called? I could tell she was guessing, but she went with Master Sword, and by some miracle she got it, but she didn’t appear heroic or confident so she did not get the max ten points for that question. Kevin’s women did much better.

There was this one guy dressed and looked just like superman from the comic books. This guy was perfect. He was tall. He was shredded. He had black hair and the cowlick. His costume looked exactly like what you would think a costume would look like. I swear he was sewed into it. He answered every question correctly and with heroic confidence. Kevin was saying he had to have an ear piece to know the answer to every question. I had a feeling this guy was going to win.

The appearance performance came next. I was so proud of my slaves. They did flawless moves, and with fantastic bodies, and describing how they made their costumes. They knew their characters backwards and forwards. Karla had been practicing with her sword and really showed it, and her body, off. Trista flexed and the crowd went wild. Kevin’s girls didn’t do so hot. His White Queen fell when she was walking in her heels. His Wonder Woman couldn’t get her lasso untangled, or her sword free of its scabbard in one smooth motion. Kevin and I were both nervous. Then the Superman guy came up, and he looked fantastic, and talked about how he learned how to sew to make his costume from scratch.

There was a ten minute break while the judges talked. I wanted to run to my slaves, and show them how proud I was of their performance, but I didn’t get to. The judges came back almost immediately.

Third place winner was called first. Trista got third place for being an amazing Supergirl.

Second place was called, and it was Kevin’s White Queen.

First place was the Superman.

I lost to Kevin. Shit! Of course there were pictures, and a brief interview for the YouTube video. Trista got a number of offers for her to appear at comic book shops. I didn’t care much about that. After about an hour I had all my slaves with me in my room. Regardless of their score, which was given, they had fun. Trista lost points for not answering her sword question heroically and also lost two points for appearance because she looked like she was showing too much bone. That pissed me off. What pissed me off more, later, was when I found out Kevin’s White Queen got her second place by one point.

I had Laura wash off her body paint, which was coming off on everything she touched by then. I also had my girls clean off their makeup. I didn’t feel like lying on bed sheets with foundation all over them. I say that because I was finally going to have my way with my slaves.

They were all in costume, standing at the end of the bed, and you could see they were all expecting something. I didn’t know or care what they were expecting, because as soon as I dropped my pants and all but ripped my shirt off, they knew what they were getting. I was so hard right then. Even with Laura lacking her green skin, it was her tight costume, and green hair that made her sexy. With Alison, a bit more mature than the others, all but posing her sexy ripped body to show me what she had. Dian was literally shaking with desire as her gold and black costume had a darker black wet spot between her legs. Trista was the only one that seemed to stay in character as Supergirl, with her fists on her hips, and not even responding to the trickle of lust juice rolling down her leg into her boot. I think it was the way Karla’s enormous breasts caught the light in her shiny purple outfit that made me take her first.

I just grabbed the woman and tossed her onto the bed. I forced myself between her legs, but that was only because she was too startled to realize what I was doing. When she did realize what I was doing she spread her legs so wide she was doing the splits on her back. I pulled the bottom of her costume to the side and her wet slit seemed to open. She was rubbing her body, and starting to moan, and I hadn’t even entered her yet. I reached up and flipped up her top, and her massive breasts rolled out into my hands. I was rubbing those fleshy globes as I slid into her wet snatch. It felt so good, a warm tightness around my hard cock. I slid into her easily as she was so well lubricated, and I felt her body give under my pressure. I started to pump in and out of her, and her moans became deeper and more pronounced. Her eyes crossed as she opened her mouth in a moan and didn’t seem capable of closing it.

I heard the other girls moan watching what I was doing. This was my time with Karla, not theirs. I told my Cosplay slaves standing there to stand at attention, and let their minds go blank until I called for them. Seeing them all jump to standing straight and then the life go out of them dressed as female super heroes was so amazingly hot. I was distracted by my other slaves when Karla said she was going to cum. I told her that the orgasm would be so strong and powerful it would knock her out for two and a half hours. Karla clenched down on my cock as her whole body flexed, her pussy gushed, and then she started shaking. Her breasts quivered as her mouth was wide open. Then she dropped like a puppet whose strings got cut.

I had Alison next still dressed as Black Canary. Alison’s legs were amazing, and I wanted to feel one under me. With one leg up in the air and the other leg between my legs I got to her slit. Pulling her costume bottom to the side, and her fishnet stockings having holes large enough for my cock, I slid into my slave with delight on both of our ends. I was thrusting into her when her breasts spilled out of her top. Her blond hair was bouncing as I drilled into her. Incoherent sounds were coming out of her mouth as her eyes rolled up, and stayed there, either looking at her eyebrows or nothing at all. I felt her get very wet, and her body flex. I quickly told her that the orgasm she was going to have would be so intense it would knock her out for two and quarter hours. With one stiletto heel in the air her body started to shake, and then she pulled away from me and onto her stomach, breasts out and all. Her fingers reached out to grab anything, and found the bedspread as she started convulsing in sexual pleasure. Then she slumped, still and silent.

I took Laura next. Dressed as She-Hulk in every way but the green skin I took her from behind as she was bent over the bed. There was something so erotic about all the muscles on her back, bunching and twisting in ways that made it look like a mirror image. Her ass was the best out of all of them, and I loved how the muscles seemed to go from her hips all the way down her legs to her knees. Her legs were nothing but muscles, and her ass seemed to really be made from steel. Her pussy made a squishing sound as I entered her from behind. Her woman juices were running down her legs, and her body was already writhing in sexual ecstasy. I had pulled her white and purple outfit to the side and had my cock balls deep inside of her, and she was giving moans of delight. Those moans got louder when I reached around her and started rubbing her clit at a blinding speed. In a second I felt my hand coated in her cum juices. I ordered my slave to climax with such strength that she’d pass out for two hours. Her knees gave out as her entire body weight went onto her chest, and thus the bed making the springs squeal. She crashed face first onto the bed spread. I turned her head so she could breathe.

I was still so horny when I guided Dian to the bed. I considered her Bumblebee costume, and figured that it didn’t matter to me what happened to it. She asked me to fuck her, but not destroy her costume. I didn’t care. I ripped the crotch open. Her dark skin became pink around the folds of her slit, and that slit was soon a chasm with my dick inside of her. Dian did mention I was her first man. I filed that away for facts I didn’t care much about. That just meant I had to tell her how to get on all fours, how to push back with her rear when taking her from behind. I only piston in and out of her a handful of times before she was crying out she was going to cum. At this point it seemed almost boring when I told her to orgasm so hard she’d knock herself out for two hours. Her legs shot out, her pussy shot out so much fluid that there was no way I was sleeping in that bed. With her legs and body jerking all over she eventually collapsed after one long spray of cum.

There was only Trista left and I was really looking forward to her. As soon as I woke her from her mindless trance she was saying, “Let me please you, Master.” That was really a turn on. “Fuck my body like you did my mind,” She begged. “I am your obedient slave, Master,” she said and there was something in her tone that made me believe it more than anyone else.

I was mildly surprised when she pushed me onto the bed and then got on top of me. “Let me please you with the body you made, Master,” Trista said as she pulled her panties off as if they were held together with Velcro. She grinned down at me and said, “I made every part of this costume, including the panties to be pulled off any time you wanted to use my welcoming pussy.” She lowered herself down onto my cock, and I felt her welcoming pussy engulf my dick. She slid down and moaned as her short skirt covered our privates. “You’ve done so much to fuck with my mind Master, let me fuck you with the body you created,” Trista said and I found the dirty talk a real turn on. I guess I never noticed it before about myself.

Trista was humping me, driving me into her body over and over again. She rocked her hips around in a circle to move my cock around, and then started to drive my dick where she wanted. Trista grabbed my hands and put them under her top. “Use me, Master,” Trista was saying as I felt her body jerk with the first flex of an impending orgasm. “Please, use your slave, and your slave’s body,” she moaned. Trista rocked her hips around again, moving me into different areas.

“You will obey,” I said quickly rubbing her breasts under her shirt. The feelings she was drawing out of me were things I hadn’t felt in a long time.

“I will obey, Master,” Trista said using her fingers to drape her hair away from her face so she could look down at me.

“Say it again,” I commanded feeling my own orgasm fast approaching.

“I will obey, Master,” Trista said and her body was jerking and twisting, and her pussy was getting wetter and wetter.

“Keep repeating it until you climax, and your orgasm will be so extreme your mind won’t be able to handle it, and you’ll drop unconscious for an hour and three-quarters,” I said doing my part to pound into her from below.

“I will obey, Master,” Trista said gasping for breath. “I will obey, Master. I will obey, Master. I will obey, Master. I will obey, Master. I will obeyyyyyyyy!”

Trista’s body flexed hard, her muscles stood out, her pussy sprayed. Her eyes rolled so far back that all I could see was white. Her body jerked, and then jumped right off me. Her arms, legs, and head lost control and like holding a live tension wire she was shaking violently. Her pussy flexed again and juices jetted out. Then she dropped, her mind shutting off to save itself. I stood and looked at my unconscious Cosplay Slaves.

I got cleaned up and met up with Kevin for a drink before dinner. He looked more bummed than happy he’d won our bet. After two beers he did feel better. Apparently he was happy he won our bet. It was the BeMod Con that was coming up in a week he was worried about. The only new thing he had to present was a type of carrier virus to put someone into seventy-Con using the target’s smart watch.

On to the topic of our Cosplay Slaves, I asked Kevin if there were other people interested in buying some slaves into Cosplay. Kevin scoffed, and then told me he had a mile long list of people willing to pay millions of dollars for a slave that looked like their favorite comic book character. He pulled out his phone and sent me the list. He did ask me if I was going to keep any of my slaves, and I said I probably wouldn’t since I already had two devoted slaves in Alpha and Beta. Kevin accepted this and said if he had the money he would buy my Psylocke since he really liked her huge breasts. Then he looked sad again and said he was going to have to sell off most of his slaves since he just didn’t have the room or capital to keep them. I bought him another beer and then I went back to my slaves.

After they woke up and cleaned up I took them to an all you can eat buffet. I felt bad later that the people running the place probably didn’t make money that night when we were through. My slaves got to take it easy the next day, but I had work to do. I had one week to try to get total-Con, and I wasn’t sure if I was going to make it. That’s why it surprised me when I got back from my trip to the mall. I had been at a distant mall, where I was collecting data from a dozen people after giving them my c-cream, and c-sweet, and then the visual and audio program. Not long after getting home Trista confronted me.

I told her that I didn’t want to be bothered, and she turned to leave, but then stopped. She told me that she wanted to please me, and that if I showed her what to do, then she could help me test out the c-cream and c-sweet. I was more surprised she knew about the compound than anything else. We talked for a bit and I found out that Trista is a lot smarter than I ever gave her credit for.

Trista knew that my pharmaceutical lab existed to make mind controlling drugs that with auditory and visual input would enslave people, such as herself. She also could tell my lab was not managed very well with little organization. I almost told her to drop unconscious right there for making me mad, but she asked if she was correct. She was. My lab and research team was not nearly as well managed as even a high school laboratory. Trista wanted to please me, help me, and do whatever she could to make sure I was happy. I knew if I told her to go fuck herself, she would, but that was letting ego get in the way of an opportunity.

I let Trista show me what she could do that night. We went to a grocery store, and it was amazing how smoothly she picked up on how to test someone. Just at the grocery store we tested six more test subjects. By the time we got back to the house Trista had already uploaded the survey data from the subjects into my spreadsheet, which she started to reorganize to make it more streamline and easy to navigate. I was just shutting off the engine when Trista told me that so far all subjects were being rated at one hundred percent.

That night I had Laura and Alison in bed with me. We had a little bit of sex, but it wasn’t the full blown fuck fest we had the night before. Yes, both women had my cock in their pussies at some point, and they both had two very deep and powerful orgasms. I had Alison jack me off while Laura sucked my cock to climax. We then slept the sleep of the satisfied.

I took Alpha, Beta, and Trista with me to a college about two hours away to keep testing the c-cream and c-sweet. When we got together for lunch I learned that we were just two subjects away from having one hundred people tested, and by all indications the level was one hundred percent control on all subjects. I was so anxious that I almost skipped lunch, but my slaves looked hungry so we did break for food.

It was while eating that Trista dropped a bomb on me. All of the Cosplay slaves knew that they were likely to be sold off. None of them wanted to, but if I willed it, then they would eagerly obey and go and do whatever was desired of them. Trista didn’t want to be sold off, and did want to stay with me. The fact she had wants and desires almost made me order her to intensify her brainwashing to daily. Then she told me how she would obey without question, wanted to obey, but also could see a deficiency when she saw one. Alpha and Beta gaped at her in shock of how she was talking to me. So right then I gave her a test to see just how obedient she was. I told her to sell off her fellow Cosplay slaves before BeMod Con, and get the most amount of money for them without being overtly noticeable to the authorities.

That evening we got back to the house, and I had over a hundred people’s enslavement evaluations collected, correlated, and thanks to Trista’s organization skills also ready send off to the behavior modification evaluators. This group worked separately, and you never knew who they were. After all if you wanted the prestige of having total-Con, it didn’t pay to know who could give that title to your procedure. I had doubts that the evaluators would be able to check my work, procedure, test evaluations, and the other data provided before BeMod Con. I probably would have done more, but that’s when I got very sick.

You know when you catch the influenza virus and everything seems to shut down, including your brain? That was me. Five days before BeMod Con and I had a fever of one hundred three. I felt like a truck hit me. If it wasn’t for Alpha and Beta giving me things like medication that was mostly alcohol and food that was mostly water, then I would have been in worse shape.

Two days later my fever broke, and I felt better. At least I made it to the couch. That’s when I learned that Trista had sold off Karla, and Laura. Both of them brought in so much money that I immediately thought the FBI was going to bust in at any second. Then Trista showed me her evaluation of perspective buyers. Trista didn’t just go on social media to see who the people were, and if they were legitimate, but also check out these people’s friends, and friends of friends, to see if things loop back. If things did then they were likely who they said they were. Alison and Dian were about to be sold off. I almost stopped this. I liked both women, but in the end I agreed to let them go. Karla and Laura both had to be retrained with stage four, and as soon as the buyers were finalized for Alison and Dian, they would get the same treatment.

Satisfied with everything, and watching Alison drive off with her new owner, I made a proclamation to Alpha, Beta, and Trista. Henceforth, Trista would now have the name Gama. She would not know, recognize, or respond to any name but Gama. Her name has always been Gama, and there is no question about this. The blond woman with the impressive muscles and spectacular mind is Gama.

Still weak from being sick I had Alpha, Beta, and Gama help me at BeMod Con. I set up a booth and had people walk by looking at the sign I had made. ‘C-Cream and C-Sweet, unofficially Total-Con’ the quickly printed banner showed with black on white. People saw this, and most moved on. There were a few that stuck around and I told them of what I’d developed.

One guy didn’t believe I had reached total-Con, and put up his slave to have me prove it. The woman was tall, with a slim body, and dark brown hair cut short. She had the body and look of a runway model, but with clearly large augmented breasts. This was also how she moved. In her sleeveless red dress with the plunging neck line the slit up the side showing off her legs, and her eyes looking around for anything threatening. She was his bodyguard. I found that cute. Her Master told her to resist my commands.

I brushed the c-cream on her bare arm, and she quickly became docile. Then I had her pop a c-sweet in her mouth, and she did. The guy mumbled something about resisting, but I didn’t pay attention. I then had the woman sit down, slip on a VR headset, and I explained that a phone works too, but the headset was more private given where we were.

Ten minutes later the model took off the headset and looked at me. I could tell the guy was flabbergasted when this sexy and pretty woman asked what I wanted her to do. The guy was pissed, and told her to come with him, and they were leaving. The woman didn’t move. The guy was even more pissed and all but yelled at the woman to follow him, he was her Master. She barely looked at him before proclaiming that I was her Master, and anything I said she would obey. The guy looked pissed, and then he stopped, smiled, laughed, and congratulated me on subverting his most loyal and obedient slave. I smiled at this and instructed the woman to obey the man completely and totally in all things. She walked away with him, hanging on his arm.

I got so many orders for my process that Alpha, Beta, and Gama had to start helping with just the paperwork. Gama was a wiz with spreadsheets, and with glasses on and a pen stuck behind her ear, and her blond hair pulled back, and her outfit of a tight blouse sporting the top four buttons undone, and a short skirt that showed her underwear when she bent over, she totally rocked the sexy librarian look. I was absolutely going to have her give me a blow job at a library some day.

Kevin and I met up that night, after I ordered Alpha, Beta, and Gama to have a lesbian orgy. Kevin said how his smart watch program actually garnered a lot of interest since there are lots of people out there with smart watches. Even if he could only get to seventy-Con, it was quantity over quality, and there was more than enough orders for Kevin to be more than well off for the next year.

That night I had Gama ride me until I passed out, and then she would also pass out. I also made it so Alpha would wake me up at seven with a blow-job. I fell asleep with my blond muscular slave riding me like I was a wild horse. The next day was amazing.

I had so many orders to fill that I suspected I might need to “hire” more people for my pharmaceutical company. I was also surprised that at the closing ceremony when there was a special announcement. This was highly irregular, and people were getting nervous. Then they said my name, and I was shocked when they said my c-cream and c-sweet process had officially been recognized as being total-Con. I punched the air in triumph as people applauded and more than one person clapped me on the back. This resulted in another dozen hasty orders for my procedure done on certain people at various organizations both public and private.

Of course that was the last day of BeMod Con for the year. Everyone was clearing out, and my three slaves and I packed things up and went home. I was texting Kevin about everything, and somehow we got onto the talk of our Cosplay slaves. We both had fun. Beta was just pulling us into the garage when Kevin asked if I wanted to do it again. I asked if it was the same rules. Kevin agreed to the same rules, and I did too. We were on like Donkey Kong.

In the house I called for Gama.

“How may I please you Master?” Gama asked with a bow of her head.

“How would you feel about collecting six women, turning them into slaves, and making them devoted to mind and body shaping to do Cosplay next year?” I asked.

Without so much as the time of a heartbeat Gama was saying, “I feel what you want me to feel, Master.”

“Fine,” I said realizing I need to take command. “I Command, You Will OBEY! Slave Gama, you are to help me enslave six women. You will turn them into perfect Cosplay slaves. You will be tasked with making them have shredded bodies. You will instruct and teach them how to make Cosplay costumes. You will be directly involved in making sure they know movie, comic book, and video game lore. Obey me!”

“I obey you, Master,” Gama said dropping to her knees in subjugation.

“Good,” I said. “Let’s go to one of those small colleges nearby and snag some chunky girls. I want a redhead so this time I can actually have my Red Sonja.”

“As you command, Master,” my former Cosplay slave said as she got to her fee.

“This time,” I said, “I want bigger, better, sexier, and even more perfect women looking like they stepped out of a comic book.”

“Yes Master,” Gama said walking behind me, “I will obey.”

The End