The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Once Brian achieved total control over Peg, he had to decide what to do with her.

MC MF MD FT (Glasses)


Peg realized right from the start that she wasn’t one of the pretty girls. By the time she got to high school she was able to figure out that she wasn’t too smart, either. She had to struggle and work and try and try and try just to pass the tough classes with a “C”. Sometimes she got lucky and managed a “B”, but all the extra effort in the hard subjects meant that she didn’t have time enough to devote to the easy ones, and “C’s” and “B’s” were the best she could do in those subjects as well. She had never, ever, gotten an “A”.

Peg spent all her high school years anxious and worried that her very best efforts were just barely enough to get by. She didn’t have many friends, and certainly no boyfriends. She ate too much, and gained weight. By the time she finally squeaked through graduation, she was looking at a bleak future.

Peg was Ugly, Stupid, and Fat.

Peg’s Father told her “You can be anything you want to if you try hard enough, princess”. Her Mother said “You’re beautiful, and you’re also pretty on the inside, where it counts”. They weren’t rich. Peg was going to have to make her own way in life somehow.

Peg got a job bagging groceries at the big grocery store. A short time later she worked her way up to running the cash register. She was extra nice to everybody because she was terrified they would all find out she was in over her head. She would chat pleasantly with the customers to hide how slow she was ringing up the sale. She made mistakes, sometimes, and had to ask the supervisor for help a lot.

Peg didn’t get fired. Everyone liked her too much for that. They were just going to move her back to stocking shelves for a while. Then her friend Julie offered her a chance at a better job. Julie was smart and pretty; she was a little younger than Peg, and still in high school. Julie was very popular and had already been accepted to a good college out-of-state. Sometimes, when Peg was feeling bitter and sorry for herself, she suspected that Julie only hung out with her to look even prettier and smarter by comparison. But she had to admit that Julie had always been nice to her, and the job offer was sure a ray of hope.

Peg would go to work for Julie’s Mom, as the cashier in her new Candle Shop. Julie was working there for the summer, but would be leaving for college soon. Peg really liked Julie’s Mom, and loved the job. The register was simpler, and, unlike the big grocery store, nobody was in a big hurry to grab their candles and get home. Peg chatted with all the customers, and whenever Mrs. Charterer (Julie’s Mom, the Shop owner) wasn’t there, it was like Peg was assistant manager. (Well, she didn’t have that job title, but when you’re the only employee in the store, that means you’re in charge, doesn’t it?) Mrs. Charterer bought her a nice blouse printed with the store’s name and logo, and “Peg” embroidered on it as well.

Peg put in a lot of unpaid hours. She arrived early and stayed late and worked hard. Business was slow—the Shop was really a hobby for Mrs. Charterer, her husband was a partner at a big law firm. Peg didn’t want to lose this job, too. She was happy to see that business was picking up, ever so slowly, as people found out they were there. Peg did everything she could to make sure everyone wanted to come back. She wanted to justify Mrs. Charterer’s faith in her, and pay her back for giving her the job.

* * *

Brian entered The Candle Shop on impulse. His Mom loved that sort of aroma stuff, and so did his sister. He could always use a thoughtful gift to give them on a birthday, Christmas, or odd holiday. Unlike chocolates, flowers, or a fruit basket; a candle could be set aside for later and wouldn’t get moldy or go bad. He ended up staying longer than he thought he would, because he kept surreptitiously checking out the pretty girl behind the counter.

Brian probably would not normally have approached the counter girl at all. She was young and pretty and probably already had a hot boyfriend, and Brian hadn’t had much luck with women in his life. That was an understatement—Brian hadn’t had ANY luck with women unless you counted bad luck. The few girlfriends he had dated briefly had all somehow decided his quiet and passive nature spelled “doormat” or possibly “kick me”. Each of them thought a relationship meant “Brian, buy me things”; “Brian, take me places”; “Brian, meet my demands”.

Brian was tired of it. He had diagnosed his own problem—he dated the wrong women. OK, there might be more to it than that, but it was a good starting point. He wanted a girl who would do what HE wanted. He wasn’t even trying to flirt with Peg—he had been burned dating young and pretty girls before. But Peg was chatting with him as she rang up his order, and then it began to rain. There was no point in walking all the way back to his car in the midst of the sudden downpour, so he just stayed and talked a while with Peg, till the rain let up.

Brian learned, after almost an hour, that Peg was actually Ugly, Stupid, and Fat.

Brian would not have figured it out on his own. He thought she was witty, charming, well-read, cute and pretty. She would probably look better if she dropped a few pounds, but he would describe her as only “slightly overweight” at worst, and more like “deliciously voluptuous”. She looked just fine even if she never lost an ounce. Brian considered himself something of an intellectual, and Peg didn’t seem the least bit slow or ignorant. As he encouraged Peg to tell him about herself (she was quite talkative) she confessed to being “U S & F”.

Brian left The Candle Shop when the rain let up an hour later. He kept thinking about Peg. Somewhere along the line, Peg and Self Esteem had parted company; and now they didn’t even nod as they passed each other in the hall. Not only had someone hit Peg with the “Humble” stick, they had rented a couple hours in the batting cage and whacked her black and blue with it. Apparently not too many guys went into The Candle Shop, but sooner or later some guy would find her, tell her she was actually beautiful, and she would fall for him big time.

Brian was first in line to be that guy. But that would be too easy. He wanted more. Peg not only had a poor self-image but she was also young, inexperienced, innocent, trusting, naive and gullible. In other words, just perfect for Brian’s cruel plan. He became obsessed with the incredible opportunity that she presented. He plotted and schemed and planned his every move, and fantasized about the ultimate outcome. Then it was time to put his dream into action.

* * *

Peg couldn’t believe how lucky she was now. Brian had come back to The Shop to buy some black candles, and they had talked some more, and he had asked her out. They had been out several times now in the last few weeks, sometimes for dinner, or a movie, or both. He had learned her schedule and had made a lot of effort to find interesting things for them to do together, activities and events and adventures. He was so nice to her. He said he really liked her and liked being with her, but something was missing.

Peg could tell he was put off by how Ugly, Stupid, and Fat she was. He was very kind about it, but she was exquisitely sensitive on this issue, and she could tell. When he complimented her appearance, he would say “You have a wonderful smile” or “I like that outfit”; but never “You look nice” or You’re so pretty”. When he said something about her personality (which he did more often), it was “I admire your loyalty” or “You really are persistent” or “That takes a lot of self-discipline”; but not “That was smart (or clever)". (He was really impressed with her loyalty. When he offered to get her a job as his assistant, she’d told him she couldn’t leave Mrs. Charterer in the lurch.)When they ate out, he subtly suggested the “light” items on the menu.

Peg agonized over her decision not to sleep with him. He must be expecting something out of this relationship, and since she wasn’t pretty or smart, he must be thinking she was easy. She was determined to say “No”, at least for now. Maintaining her high moral standards, and being a “good” girl, were just about the only points of pride and self-respect she had left. Besides, she was probably lousy in bed, too. Surprisingly, Brian hadn’t even asked her yet, or pressured her in any way. He was probably repulsed by her appearance, and had a hard time bringing himself to “do” it with her, even if that had been his plan from the start.

Peg worried that when Brian finally asked her for sex, if she turned him down that would be the end of it. She would never have a great boyfriend like Brian again. He was nice, and charming and considerate, and he was trying so hard to make her feel special, even though it was obvious how far below average she actually was. It was sometimes almost amusing to watch him pause and try to come up with a tactful compliment that wasn’t an outright lie. Brian was rich, too. He had lots of money, though he didn’t show it off; and he was self-employed and could work his own hours. She wondered which of them would break down first—Brian deciding sex with her wouldn’t be so awful if the room was dark and she had a sack over her head, or her deciding to give in and say “Yes” when he asked, because she had no one else to save herself for.

* * *

Brian thought he might be too subtle on the first phase of his scheme to enslave Peg. He had to be the “nice guy” and make her want to be with him, while at the same time cruelly destroying her self-image even further. He used faint praise, and significant little pauses, slightly sarcastic tones, looks and gestures; all aimed at reinforcing her abysmally low opinion of herself. He worried that she might not pick up his clues, but Peg was sharp and observant and nothing went by her unnoticed. The hardest part was the way she kept coming back, like a lost puppy, hoping that this time he wouldn’t kick her again.

Brian also steered their conversations to every difficult and obscure topic he could come up with. They discussed cellular mitosis, Schoenberg’s 12-tone method, cosmology and dark matter, deconstructionism and the Modern Language Association, corporate governance and weighted voting schemes, deteriorating property rights in Zimbabwe, the Napoleonic Code, and Quantum Mechanics. She didn’t understand Quantum Mechanics, but neither did he—(no one really does). On everything else, Peg contributed interesting insights and comments. The idea was to make her feel out of her depth (Brian smart, Peg stupid) and it had that effect on her. The effect on him was more pronounced. He found her to be brilliant and fascinating. It was staggeringly mystifying to him how she’d avoided good grades in school. He could only presume it was some combination of self-destructive attitude and extreme test anxiety.

Brian found it ironic that the subtle message he had the most trouble getting across to Peg was that he was filthy rich. He didn’t dress flashy or wear a Rolex. He drove an old car and lived in a modest home. Leaving a bank statement lying around for her to find was just too obvious. This was all amusing because, unlike everything else he had told her, or planned to tell her, this was actually true. He had millions—it was what all his previous girlfriends had been after. Peg liked him even before finding out he had money, and he found himself worrying she would think he was lying about it.

Brian found it almost too easy. Peg was just so suitable for what he had in mind. He was incredibly lucky to have found her. He found that thought ironic as well.

* * *

Peg thought Brian had to be the nicest person alive. He would start talking about some really important and interesting topic, and when she made some silly, inane remark, he would look at her, for just a brief moment, in surprise and fascination, like she had said something actually smart or clever. He would go on again, after that one appreciative glance, and act like nothing had happened. He was trying, ever so subtly, to make her feel like she wasn’t such a dunce.

Peg finally resolved to do anything that Brian asked of her. If all he wanted was a “sure thing” to satisfy him physically until he had a real girlfriend, she would be that for him. If he wanted to continue to sleep with her on the side when he had another girlfriend, or even a wife, she would be that for him, too. When he dropped her, she wouldn’t whine or be disappointed. At least she would be able to look back someday and know that some guy had once found her at least a little bit desirable.

Peg was ready to tell all this to Brian when they next met. She had made up her mind to do this—her biggest fear was that Brian would be unwilling to be demean himself by sleeping with such a grotesque creature. Maybe he spent time with her out of pity, he was such a sweet guy, and she was aspiring too high to dream that she could ever be more to him. Being nothing more than his sex toy had become the most she could imagine hoping for.

“Peg, I have something very important to ask you,” Brian said, as soon as the met again. “But first, I have to confess I haven’t been completely honest with you. We’ve kind of wandered into an emotional minefield here, and I don’t want you jumping to any sudden conclusions till I’ve had a chance to explain everything.”

Peg’s heart was racing, but she nodded calmly, “Yes, Brian. What is it?”

“First you have to promise never to reveal this to anyone.” Brian said solemnly, “Do not tell your best friend, or your Mother. Don’t write it in your diary. Don’t speak it loudly, even to me, if someone else might possibly hear. You have to swear that you will take this to the grave with you.”

“Are you in some kind of trouble?”

“No, it’s nothing like that. This secret doesn’t involve anything unethical or immoral or dangerous or criminal or anything like that. It’s just very private and personal.” Brian explained, “I’m completely serious about you keeping this to yourself.”

“OK.” She promised, “I swear I’ll never tell anyone.”

“Before I can get to that, I want you to know—you are what I’ve always looked for in a girl. You’re honest and you try your best at everything you do, and most of all you are loyal and faithful. These are the very qualities I prize, and they’re so hard to find these days.”

“But I want even more than that.” He continued, “I want someone who is very smart and who is also beautiful almost beyond description.”

Peg was all but paralyzed with disappointment. Brian had been so nice . . . .

His voice dropped, and he leaned in toward her.

“I happen to be a very powerful Wizard, a master of the occult arts. I can cast a magic spell on you to transform you into someone incredibly smart and pretty. But I have to know that you want it. That your reaction will be joy and gratitude, not bitterness and resentment.” He looked at her.

Peg had almost missed his last words; lost in her momentary despair. Wizard? Magical Spell? What the hell was he talking about? It would explain all the black candles, and the strange books—“The Golden Bough”, “Necronomicon”, & “Fey Sigaldry”. Maybe.

“Which would it be?” Brian was asking, “Would you be happy to be transformed into someone astoundingly, supernaturally, beautiful; or would you resent me forever for not just accepting you as you are? Remember, the important things—character, loyalty—you already have.”

“Yes.” She finally answered, “Yes, do it. I would love it.” This was NOT the conversation she had imagined.

“Uh, there is one other thing,” he added, “this particular spell—a very strong and permanent enchantment—would also force you to become my abject slave for all eternity.”

“How is that a problem?” Peg asked.

* * *

Brian had debated not offering her a choice, but ultimately decided to go ahead. First and foremost, he’d waited until he was absolutely sure she would answer “Yes”. Her agreement to surrender would also be a huge help later in overcoming any resistance she might have left. And this way he had her sworn to secrecy. There was no chance for her friends or family to point out how outrageous and silly his Big Lie really was.

She’d swallowed it, hook, line and sinker; after that the rest was no challenge at all. He avoided staging some phony “spell”, instead he got from her a picture of herself and a lock of hair, then went off in private “to perform the necessary ritual”. When he saw her next, he was ready to firmly fix the whole idea in her mind.

“Everything was a complete success.” He told her, “You should already be changing.”

“I don’t feel any different?”

“With this sort of sympathetic magic, an essential part is a real, physical, object to act as a symbol. I used this in my ritual, and I think it is nicely emblematic.” He handed her a velvet case. “Here, put these on.”

She had been hoping for a ring, and when she saw the case she was thinking necklace. Brian had said “these”, so maybe earrings? She opened the case and was surprised to find a pair of glasses.

“I don’t wear glasses . . . .”

“You do now. Go ahead and put them on.” Brian urged. “They symbolize the New You, beautiful and smart.” He felt like the all-powerful Oz handing out tokens to the Scarecrow, Tin Man, and Cowardly Lion. As far as he was concerned, Peg was transformed already. Wearing her new glasses made her look confident, professional and sharp. He had a major weakness for girls in glasses, so when it came to providing Peg with something to symbolize his “spell”, the choice was easy.

Perhaps, if Brian had been a pure artist, he would have left it at that, letting his one giant deception do its work, and observing its effects on Peg. But he was much too thorough and systematic to just sit back and watch. In the days and weeks that followed, he set about reinforcing everything he wanted her to believe. He’d purchased a book—Dr. Quirk’s “Hypnotise Anyone: IN 4 EASY STEPS!". One quiet evening at home, soon after his “spell”, he made his first attempt at hypnosis.

He had forced her to give up her apartment and move in with him. She did everything he asked of her. Brian was really nervous about the hypnosis, though. Being compliant and submissive didn’t necessarily mean suggestible. He had no experience at this, either. He needn’t have worried. Convincing Peg that she was actually beautiful and smart was like rolling downhill with the wind at his back. She WAS beautiful and smart, by any objective measure. And she was so convinced of his “magic” powers that she was halfway into a trance as soon as he told her what he wanted. Hypnotising her turned out to be easy.

“Peg, now that you have relaxed completely, I want to re-assure you about the transformation you are undergoing. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable or have any anxiety about this. You know that you are growing ever-more beautiful. You can feel yourself getting smarter. And as you grow more desirable, you also grow more and more obedient. You live only to serve me, to please me, to obey me. You are my property to do with as I wish. You have no separate will of your own, your only desire is to obey me in whatever way will please me the most.”

Brian hypnotised Peg over and over. At first he claimed the hypnosis was to help her “adjust”, but after a while he didn’t bother with explanations. Peg now existed only to serve him. She was perfect. Before he found Peg, he had tried finding a “sub” in the BDSM internet community, but, oddly enough, he found them too demanding. “Punish me in this way, for these infractions”; “Learn these postures and make me use them in these instances”; “Do these sorts of scenes, this often, and not those, according to prior agreement”; it was all about meeting THEIR needs. Everyone said that’s not how it was supposed to work, but Brian found all the rules and rituals frustrating.

Peg, on the other hand, had no agenda other than what he gave her. In addition to the hypnosis, he punished her severely when she failed to obey quickly or completely enough. He also began to punish her for failing to anticipate his desires and moods in advance. Soon he found, though, that she was receiving almost no discipline from him at all. Not because he had let his standards lapse, (he was stricter than ever) but because Peg had acquired an uncanny ability to judge just what he wanted. She was incredibly sensitive and observant and could switch from a friendly and familiar tone; to submissive obedience; to pitiful grovelling; to stoic endurance; all without Brian having to speak a word. She always got the nuances just right.

And as far as Brian was concerned, the glasses would have been enough on their own. He loved the new look they gave Peg. He enjoyed having her dress up in a suit as a business professional, or in a white lab coat as a scientist or doctor, or as a studious college co-ed; or sometimes wearing nothing at all, just her glasses. Her glasses added just the right touch of seriousness to her increasingly beautiful face.

She was so perfect, it was almost frustrating in itself. Brian began to punish her on almost any excuse, or even at random. One day, Peg was kneeling silently near at hand as he read a book. She was looking at him (through her new glasses) with unblinking adoration. For no particular reason, he suddenly reached out and slapped her across the face, really hard. Even as an ugly red handprint began to appear on her cheek, her face got a look of shame and confusion. She didn’t say anything, but the unspoken question was “What did I do wrong?” or “What was that for?”

He didn’t have to answer. Peg was now incapable of even forming the thought that it wasn’t somehow entirely her fault. She would just try harder to please him in the future. Brian enjoyed demonstrating his total power over her. He decided to go ahead and tell her: “No reason. It just felt good.” A smile brightened her face as she realized that she had pleased him. She continued to look at him adoringly.

That was when Brian had his epiphany. Any drop-out, ex-con, un-employed asshole could come along and abuse a girl like Peg, making her life a living hell. Brian had achieved his dream of absolute control over her, and he wasn’t doing anything that a substance-abusing creep with anger management issues couldn’t be doing with a lot less thought and effort. Sure, he got to use her whenever (and however) he wanted. But he had her totally convinced that he was a Wizard who could supernaturally transform her into a Princess. It would be a true challenge now to see how far he could take it—his own little Pygmalion project.

* * *

Peg was frightened by what was happening to her. Once Brian had cast his spell over her, she found herself obeying his every command. And he changed. He began to boss her around for no reason, and “punish” and “discipline” her for any little thing. Fortunately he was absurdly easy to please. He was very consistent in what he wanted, and even his “random” demands and punishments were quite . . . . predictable. And his discipline was always proportionate to her “infractions”, which were always minor. She was never really frightened by his punishments, he wasn’t ever mad at her, he just seemed to enjoy being in control. She was frightened by her own reactions.

She loved it when he hit her. She hated it when she loved it. She couldn’t seem to stop herself from her own bizarre response. She decided she had to get out of this relationship, but somehow she never could do it. On several occasions early on she was going to leave him, but chickened out at the last minute. Then she found it was a struggle to TRY to leave him. She would resolve to herself to at least go through the motions, but then wouldn’t do even that. Finally she got to the point where she had to fight for enough willpower to even THINK about just trying to leave him. Then he would punish her for something, and she would love it even more than before, and hate herself for loving it.

She hadn’t thought it would be like this. She thought Brian was really nice and actually wanted her. She didn’t really believe that being his slave would mean having her own thoughts and desires turned against her like this. But she WAS getting more beautiful. She had lost weight, and now her waist was narrow and her stomach flat. Her cheekbones were a little more prominent as her face became a bit less round and slightly more angular. Her complexion had cleared up and her teeth were whiter, and her hair was . . . . well, better. Most of all, Brian looked at her different. And he began to have sex with her, a lot.

Of course the sex, for her, was astoundingly good. Better—much, much better than she could have ever imagined it would be. She figured that it had to be the hypnosis. Peg was getting smarter as well as prettier and more obedient. Brian’s spell was transforming her as promised. Now, when he assigned her a difficult task, she didn’t worry if she was up to it—she was confident that she would figure it out. Another sign that she was getting smarter—she had figured out why Brian kept hypnotising her all the time. If his magic was changing her, why did he bother with hypnosis as well? The hypnosis was to help her attitudes keep up with her magical transformation. When he put her into a trance, he told her to LIKE being obedient, to NOTICE that she was getting prettier and smarter, and to ENJOY having sex with him, a lot.

With this realization, (that Brian was trying to make things easier for her with his frequent hypnosis), she finally caved in. If Brian wasn’t everything she had hoped for, he was probably still better than what she deserved. If he wanted her to enjoy her life as his slave, she wouldn’t fight enjoying it. And if he wanted sex, a lot; well, that was working out just fine anyhow.

One day she was sitting by his side, gazing at him adoringly (he loved that), when he suddenly slapped her face, hard. Afterwards, he was looking at her funny, like he had never really noticed her there before. Then he was smiling, and seemed happier than at any time since they had first met. He had some sort of plan.

* * *


Brian took several days to implement the first part of his new plan. During that time he was scurrying around, making arrangements, setting things up and making sure that everything would go as intended. A big part of that involved hypnotising Peg several times, longer and deeper than ever before. That was when he found out, almost by accident, that Peg clearly remembered all their prior hypnotic sessions. He had thought that people just naturally didn’t remember stuff that happened to them in a trance. “I need to get a couple more comprehensive books on this stuff,” he thought. Thankfully, he had always referred to his “Magic Spell” as a True Event, and the hypnosis as supplemental.

The great thing was, even though he had screwed up, Peg had just rationalized his hypnosis as an effort to be nice and to help her. She became more devoted than ever. Jeez, she was so perfect, he would make double sure not to screw up Phase 2. When everything was ready, he gave Peg her instructions.

“Peg, I have another difficult task for you,” he told her, in a serious tone, “but I am confident that you are up to it. I have booked you for 10 days into a local world-class Resort Spa & Salon. I want you to relax and have fun, but also be assertive. Anything you want—tell the staff. If anything doesn’t please you, be sure to speak up. Try to give me a call every evening with a progress report. Now pack anything you think you’ll need. They’ll pick you up in an hour and a half.”

Brian soon helped Peg into the limo from The Resort, and reviewed with her the instructions he had given the Spa staff. In addition to a daily facial and massage, he had arranged a total makeover by hair and make-up experts, including manicure and pedicure, a personal dietician and several fashion consultants.

“She been through an emotional trauma, so she’s very fragile right now.” He had told them,“Pamper her, but I’m hoping this will be educational as well as relaxing. Teach her skin care and hairstyles and fashion choices. Remember, she’s not used to having people do things for her.”

They had quoted an outrageous, all-inclusive fee, and he had calmly doubled it. “Pamper.” He repeated.

Brian had let the experts and consultants all know what sort of look he was seeking for Peg. He had also been sure to give the same guidelines to Peg. Just to be on the safe side, he had drilled into her subconscious a dislike of those types of clothes and hairstyles that he didn’t want to see her adopt. Most importantly, any new look she tried had to work with her glasses.

The Peg that got out of the limo 10 days later was almost unrecognizable. She had always been beautiful and graceful, now she seemed confident and self-assured; (well, almost, anyway.) She was certainly well dressed and had nice hair. While always neat and clean, Peg’s clothes used to look like she salvaged them from the dumpster behind the thrift shop. Now her simple and tasteful outfit accented perfectly her wonderful figure and personal style. The smile she was giving him was bigger and brighter than any he had seen. (Hadn’t she been trying hard enough before? Or was she just more inspired now?)

When the limo driver had unloaded all her stuff (there was a lot more luggage returning than the little overnight bag she had taken) and driven off; Brian put Peg to the test. At his gesture, she instantly sank to her knees and turned her face down. The complete change in her demeanor came without hesitation or transition. He’d worried that her conditioning might have lapsed while she was away from him. It wouldn’t do to have her break free just as his program was getting started.

“I hope you paid attention.” He told her, “I expect you to be impressive whenever I display you. If you managed to get relaxed and refreshed as well, that will help. Tomorrow your life is going to get much harder. Now get to the bedroom and get out of those clothes, we have a lot of time to make up.”

By the next morning he had no doubt that Peg was still (or once again) completely under his control. He drove her down to the local gym he had selected. There he introduced her to her personal trainer, who would supervise her low-impact workout, swimming, and weight training program every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday morning. Then they went to the Yoga school where Peg would relieve stress and increase her flexibility on Tuesday and Thursday mornings. Afternoons Peg would be at the Dojo studying multi-disciplinary Martial Arts. Brian believed there was nothing quite like an ability to Kick Ass to boost Peg’s self-confidence.

After meeting all of Peg’s new instructors and going through her rigorous new weekly schedule, they headed back home. On the way, Brian broke some more news.

“That junky hatchback that you drive—I got rid of it.” He informed her. “It was an embarrassment.”

Keeping her car had figured prominently in Peg’s plans to escape—back when she was still able to think about just trying to actually leave Brian. She felt a numb and dreadful panic slowly building inside her, and fought to suppress showing any dismay to Brian.

When they pulled up in front of the house, there was a convertible parked in the driveway. It was a candy-apple red Italian sports car that was probably worth more than what Peg’s parents earned in ten years. She wondered who could be visiting, that would drive such a flashy automobile.

“Here, take these,” Brian said, handing her a set of keys, “It’s registered in my name, but it’s for you to use. I expect you to make sure it gets regular service and maintenance, as well as having it washed and detailed often.” He handed her the business card of an exclusive garage.

Peg was just barely able to nod, as she stared, overwhelmed, at the expensive, gleaming machine sitting before her. Eventually Brian had to gently tug her by one arm to get her to go inside.

When Peg began to start dinner, Brian continued the day’s assault on her equilibrium.

“We’re going out to eat. Wear something nice.”

A few weeks before Peg would have been in a panic. Brian had kept her in the house, wearing very little, and what little she did wear was intended to be revealing and easily removed. But one of the items that she had gotten at The Resort had been a little black party dress, so she ran and put it on for him. When she was ready, she returned to find him waiting, holding the velvet case her glasses had come in.

“You seemed a little disappointed the last time I gave you this, I thought I might try again.” He handed it over to her.

She opened the case and gasped to discover a pair of earrings with diamonds the size of her fist. Well, a bit smaller than that, but still quite large. She’d wondered why Brian had asked them to have her ears pierced on her first day at The Salon.

“These are more than just decorative,” Brian was saying, “If you look at the back, they mark you as mine.”

Before putting them on, Peg examined them closely. The back of the post was a flat disk, almost the size of a dime, custom engraved with Brian’s monogram. He had a stylized initial that he put on everything. He used sealing wax and a custom-made seal on all his letters, he stamped all the books in his library with a special stamp and ink pad, he even had a signet ring. He had something of an obsession with marking all his things—from time to time she found his little monogram affixed in the most unexpected places. Just putting on the earrings, and secretly marking herself as his property, sent weird shivers down her back.

They had dinner at an expensive SteakHouse, and Peg felt like everyone was looking at her. They were. Brian had her drive, (an adventure, re-acquainting herself with a stick-shift), and heads all turned as they entered. She was actually out in public and for once wasn’t trying to sneak by unnoticed. Everybody noticed her. For the first time in her life she didn’t feel like she was an embarrassment to whoever she was out with.

Halfway through the meal, Peg ventured a respectful comment on how much everything must cost.

“You’re paying for dinner tonight,” Brian replied, “I didn’t bring any money.”

Peg had no money either. Brian had finally forced her to quit her job at The Candle Shop. Tonight she was quick to adapt, though, and recognized the strange mood he was in. After a quiet, slightly startled gasp, she waited for the other shoe to drop (meanwhile, she gazed adoringly through her glasses at him). He sighed, shrugged, and handed her a platinum credit card. It had her name on it.

“Effectively, there’s no limit on that.” He said, “You could buy commercial real estate with it, if you wanted. I expect you to handle any purchases I direct and to be reasonable in using your discretion on incidental expenses.”

Within a few days, Peg began to receive deliveries of custom-made clothing, provided by the fashion consultants who had met and measured her at The Spa, and advised her on fabrics, colours and styles. She modelled everything for Brian as it arrived, and it all fit perfectly. Of course, Peg had the type of tall and slender frame that would make anything look great.

Brian was finding irony in a lot of things these days. Before Peg, every woman he had ever known had just wanted him to spend money on her. Now he had dropped more cash on Peg than the wildest dreams of all his ex-girlfriends combined. It didn’t feel quite the same as giving away a gift, it was more like re-furbishing your house—not something you did to make your house happy. Investing in “Peg upgrades” was HIS project, and he enjoyed the process and expected excellent results.

* * *

Peg was a little late on the first day of the new semester. Class hadn’t started yet, but she had wanted to be early to get a nice place up front. As she scanned the room looking for an open seat, she realized that every guy in the room was openly staring at her. As they should. Nothing about her—nice but conservative clothes, modest demeanor, demure expressions, glasses—seemed to indicate she was permissive, promiscuous or provocative. In the last year and a half, Brian had enjoyed showing off his new trophy, so Peg had mastered a very subtle art of driving men (and some women) to extremes of lust and desire for her. She had an incredible talent for reading people, and reacting with slight changes in her posture, or gestures, or body language to tease everyone looking at her into a frenzy of sexual arousal and make them completely crazy to have her. Brian liked it when Peg got admired, and so she practiced quietly drawing people’s attention and subtly signalling her desirability whenever she could.

During class, she concentrated her attention on the lecture as the instructor outlined the course and what would be expected. Ever since, at Brian’s urging, she had enrolled in the local community college, she had gotten straight “A’s” in all her classes. She would be transferring next semester to the State University for her degree. After class, half a dozen guys tried to get her phone number. She was kind and polite, but firm in declining all their advances, showing her wedding ring and letting them know she was happily married. Turning them down gently was important. Peg might strut and flirt and tease a bit, but she belonged to Brian only. Tactfully refusing, while being clear and direct, actually took more thought and effort. She had gotten so adept at saying “No” sweetly to her suitors that many of them joined her wide circle of good friends.

Peg’s amazing talent for observing and analyzing people and deftly tailoring her reactions was one accomplishment that Brian didn’t claim any credit for. Brian made it clear every day that he thought Peg was a fantastic super-babe, all-but-perfect in every way. Obviously he had decided that he could take control of her life and run it better than she had been doing. For the most part, she had thrived. She loved obeying his strict demands and earning his praise when she excelled at whatever he asked of her. If intense happiness could cause heat, she would have burst into flames long ago. There were two small clouds of doubt that lingered at the edges of her perpetually sunny days, though.

She knew that Brian was manipulating her thoughts and attitudes, trying to make her happy. And she was very happy. She tried to think back to the hopes and dreams and beliefs that she had before she met Brian, and her life now was everything she had ever wanted, and better. But she was left with a nagging little doubt that maybe even her memories were suspect, that she loved everything in her life now, only because Brian wanted her to. A strange loop—the only flaw in her happiness was her uncertainty that it might not be genuine, and yet the very idea that Brian manipulated her thoughts was itself a secret thrill for her.

Not the only flaw, actually. She liked it when he hit her. Peg was sure that enjoying her own abuse was screwed up, but she didn’t know if her attitude was a result of Brian’s mind games or was there all along. Brian seldom punished her anymore, she wasn’t even sure if that was good or bad. Peg realized that she was extremely, even pathologically, submissive. Brian had exploited her, he had taken over her life and given it a rigid structure of his own choosing. She was now dedicated, every waking moment of every day, to pleasing him. She worked with fanatical intensity and focussed commitment to improve herself in any incremental way that might please him more. She loved the demands he made, and his incredibly high expectations. If only he would punish her more.

This semester she had a more specific goal than Brian’s desire that she continue her education. She had managed to sign up early, and make the cut for, the limited slots available for two controversial classes—Human Sexuality; and also Pornography in Literature. She had been so ignorant about sex when Brian first claimed her. Instantly doing anything and everything he wanted had gotten her through so far. Now that she had become beautiful and intelligent, she had higher expectations for her own performance in bed. She would learn everything she could, and apply whatever she thought Brian might like. He didn’t like surprises, but was usually open to new ideas.

* * *

Brian had a bizarre dilemma, and he had no one to blame but himself. Peg had become perfect. When she was pathetic and miserable, he had felt little guilt at manipulating and dominating her. Now Peg was healthy, powerful, sleek, strong, slim, confident and accomplished. She was soaking up new skills and experiences like a sponge. Her life had gone from a near stall to full throttle forward. Even though he was the one behind the wheel, pushing his foot to the floor (to continue the analogy), he hadn’t realized how much horsepower was under the hood. Peg was smarter than he was. She was more beautiful than, well, than just about anyone. She was self-disciplined and ambitious. Granted, he had shoved her into all that, but now he felt inadequate. She no longer needed him. She had left him behind, in her dust. More and more, Brian felt that his control over her was the only thing that kept her around, as well as the only thing holding her back. He didn’t want to let her go, and yet he didn’t want to hold her down.

Brian took pride in Peg, his project. He was well aware that all the outstanding qualities that now made her so superb were there in her all along. It was like finding a valuable antique teapot at a yard sale. He had recognized the value there, he had bought it, cleaned it, restored it and lovingly displayed it to the world. Sure, he was not the artist who had created beauty originally, but no one would appreciate it if not for his efforts to bring it out.

Lying to her was just no fun anymore.

* * *

As Peg walked across campus she noticed a table set up along the mall. A sign overhead read “Model Search” and several students were talking to the recruiters. As she did with her every thought and action, she applied the “WWBW” rule—“What Would Brian Want?” He enjoyed it when other people admired her, so a model tryout would probably be fine with him. As she approached, Peg thought she recognized one of the girls taking applications.

“Julie?” She asked, “Julie Charterer?”

Julie looked up and gave her a blank look. With a slight shrug she asked; “Do I know you?”

“It’s me, Peggy.” Peg replied, “We worked together at the Grocery when you were a senior. You got me the job in your mom’s Candle Shop.”

“OH MY GAWD! PEG!!” Julie screeched, everyone turned and looked at her. She calmed down and continued. “You look incredible! You’ve lost some weight—I can’t believe its you! Mom said you quit the Candle Shop to move in with some boyfriend. Are you a student here? What have you been doing?”

Peg held up her hand and showed Julie her wedding ring. It had Brian’s monogram engraved inside. It, and Peg, were His. Peg felt a shiver of delight at the thought, just as she did every single time. “I’m married to the most wonderful man on earth. Now that I have my life better organised, I’m going back for my degree. I’ll be at State University next year.”

The two of them chatted and caught up. Julie was working for the modeling agency as an intern, not a model (“too short”). She had jumped at the chance to come home when the agency put together a campus recruiting tour. Julie’s Mom was fine, and the Candle Shop was still in business. “After you left, Mom could never find anybody half as good,” Julie told her, “Customers still ask about you.”

Julie and all the recruiting staff agreed that Peg was the most outstanding candidate they had seen yet, by far. They told her she could probably be a success on the runway in New York, Milan or Paris, rather than settle for newspaper ads and catalog work locally. Peg took their card, but told them she was too old to start a modelling career. She couldn’t wait to tell Brian about the offer when she got home.

* * *

“Are you really considering that modeling job?” Brian asked her, after she told him the story.

“I already turned them down. I just brought it up with you because I know how much you like it when other people admire me. I couldn’t leave if I wanted to. I couldn’t stand to be separated from you. Besides, you made me beautiful just for you—I can’t even imagine my life not serving you, or being away from you. I see everything differently through these.” She tapped her glasses, and gazed at him intensely through them.

It was everything he had feared. Peg was giving up the opportunity of a lifetime. If he denied her this, and kept her as his personal plaything, it would just make him miserable. He had to confess the truth, for both their sakes.

“I can’t keep up the pretense any more and watch you throw away your life. It wasn’t me that transformed you—it was all just the power of suggestion and a little light hypnosis. You’ve always been smart and beautiful, I just got you to believe it yourself. You’re not my “enchanted” slave at all and never have been.”

“Duh.” Peg adjusted her glasses again. “I figured that out a long time ago. Maybe I’ve changed to conform with what you wanted, but I don’t think so. I think it was there in me before we even met. You are just about a perfect fit for me, I doubt if I could find someone better if I looked for years on end. We both know how submissive I am—I need to be told what to do. You’ve struck just the right balance between excitement—as you force me to do things I never thought I could do—and structure—as I obediently follow the routines and protocols you demand. I love it when you punish me and hurt me. Some hard-core pain-slut would laugh at your mild efforts, but I think it’s just right. I can enjoy the sensation without ever being afraid or doubting your control or concern.”

“I’ve thought about this answer a lot lately.” Peg continued, “You’re so easy to read. I knew you were about to break down and confess sometime soon. If I walked out on you (assuming I even could) I would end up alone or hooked up with some abusive creep. I’m not some wild animal that you captured and keep in a cage. I’m a domestic pet that wandered up looking for food, and stayed for a kind word and a pat on the head.”

“I really have no right telling you what to wear, how to schedule your day, who to talk to, what to think.” Brian observed, “I’ve been taking advantage of you.”

“But I agree with your choices, and I get off on being ordered around.” Peg answered, “Quit being so insecure. Do whatever you want with me, just take charge. You’ve been a fantastic lover, you are a great Master, and you’re going to be a wonderful father.” Peg guided his hand to rest over her still-flat tummy, looked him in the eyes, and nodded “Yes” to his unspoken question.

“I love being yours!” She pouted, “I don’t want to leave, ever! I don’t want to be anything else. Don’t you want me any more?”

“Of course I do! You have to understand, though, that I never cast any magic spell to make you my smart and beautiful slave. I’m not really a magician.”

“Yes, you are.”