Deep Undercover
PART FOUR — DEEPER AND DEEPER UNDERCOVER
Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit! This is bad. This is really bad.
I can’t move. I should be able to move—I can feel my arms and legs, I’ve got circulation, my chest is rising up and down with each breath—but I can’t move. I’m a puppet with its strings cut. Is it drugs? It must be drugs. Paul programmed me to wake myself up if Cassie ever found herself in serious trouble, and this seems like a pretty bad situation. What the hell did the girl do to herself this time?
Avery walks into the room, and I feel like the girl with her hand in the cookie jar. He looks very much like the owner of that jar. For a second we both say nothing—me because I can’t move a muscle, him because... well, because Avery is Avery. I’ve been spending nearly every day of my life—every day of Cassie’s life, anyway—walking around with this guy. Going to parties. Going on trips. Hanging out. And, of course, plenty of fucking, usually twice a day. Avery always knows what he wants. But what does he want now?
“Take off your clothes,” he says. That’s all he says.
Suddenly my mouth falls open. “Yes, Master,” I hear myself say, and to back it up, my left hand begins fumbling with my jeans. I can’t control it any more than I can convince myself to run screaming out of the mansion, which is the logical thing to do. The least logical thing to do is to strip naked in front of my greatest enemy, and yet here I am, doing exactly that. At least my mouth has apparently decided not to say anything more.
My hand is working on removing my top before Avery speaks again. “Who is your Master, Tara?”
Tara? Fuck! There’s no way in hell he could know that. I’m buried under layers of Cassie, who in turn is buried under layers of hypnotic programming. Someone must have ratted me out. Was it Paul? Why the hell? It couldn’t be Paul. Was it Cassie? Somehow? I’m asleep when she’s awake, so maybe...
“You are my Master, Avery. I obey without question.”
“Very good, Tara. You can stop undressing now.”
“Yes, Master.” My hand drops back into place. I’m down to just my panties now, and I can feel the air conditioning blowing against my skin. Little goosebumps are forming on my limp, useless arms.
Dammit! The last thing I can remember is talking to Paul at the garden party, and that was at least three days ago. Maybe more—Cassie sometimes stays on the clock for a week at a time, especially when Avery has her in the brainwashing chair or out with him at the beach house. I want to scream, not so much in horror but in frustration, because Cassie was stupid and I really want to know what she did to mess things up. And things were—are—most certainly messed up. If Avery has the keys to my mind...
But does he? I’m standing here, brain racing a mile a minute. Mindless slave girls don’t do that. Cassie might be docile and empty, but I’m not. I’m still not.
“You’re probably wondering why you can still think for yourself,” Avery announces, and I can feel my brain cringing. This can’t be good.
“I want you to know that I admire you, Tara Stevens. I really do. I had no idea that my girlfriend, my constant companion, my lover, was also my greatest opponent. Of course, Cassie doesn’t know that either, does she? It took me a week to burrow deep enough into her head to find you. Another week to fully dig you out and place you under my control. But it’s done now, so if you’re thinking about breaking free... don’t.”
Two weeks. He’d had me in that machine for two weeks? Paul was bound to know that something was up. We agreed to never let Cassie go that long by herself, lest her programming lock into place and lock me out of my own mind. And if Paul knew what was up...
“Who do you serve, Tara?”
“Only you, Master.”
Shut up. Shut up! Do I really sound like that under hypnosis?
“What are your standing orders?”
He’s grinning at me, with that nasty half-smile he reserves for his worst Bond villain moments. My stupid mouth dutifully opens and gives him what he’s eagerly waiting for. “I will obey you without question. I will remain completely loyal to you and your organization. My mind, body, and soul belong only to you. I will continue to deceive Paul and make him believe that I am still loyal to him, but I am completely under your control. I will do anything you ask of me.”
Shit. Shit shit shit! How am I going to get out of this?
He steps closer, covering the distance between us, until he is close enough to fondle my boobs. Brainwashed Tara lets him get away with it. He leans forward and whispers into my ear. “Drugs and subliminals, Tara. You never saw it coming.”
I have no response to that. My body does, apparently, because I can feel my nipples harden and my pulse quicken. “Yes, Master,” says my mouth. My fucking traitorous, rogue, sexy-ass mouth.
He kisses me on the lips—ugh—double ugh—and stares into my eyes. “We’re going to have so much fun together, Tara. You, and me, and Cassie. And Paul, and Megan, and all of the other people you’re going to tell me all about.”
This was definitely not part of my plan.
He smiles. A genuine smile, I think. Then he reaches out and taps my forehead like I’m a giant coconut. “It’s time to obey, Tara.”
I look at him. Into his eyes. “Yes, Master. I will obey.” I can move my arms again, so I swing them upwards and wrap them around his upper body. He’s warm, and calm, and smells like cigars. I close my eyes and kiss him, passionately, letting my lips press against his for what feels like a heavenly eternity. It’s wonderful enough that I whimper a bit when he finally pulls away from me.
“Beautiful, smart, totally loyal only to me... you’re going to make the perfect double agent, Tara.”
For whatever reason, that sounds like an excellent idea. “Yes, Master.”
“Now, let’s go to the bedroom. I have a few things I’d like to do before I reprogram that pretty little brain of yours.”
An even better idea, one my mind and body totally agree on. To be honest? I’m going to fuck him all night long, if he lets me.
“Yes, Master. I hear and obey.” I sound so mindless and dull when I’m deep in trance. It’s so incredibly sexy.
I step over the pile of clothes and follow him down the hall, the way an obedient slavegirl should.