Absolute Submission
1) Terms and Conditioning
After years of amassing a collection of photographs of attractive women in varying states of undress, Jacob had become somewhat jaded. He still kept an eye out for new images to add to it, and few months went by without his discovering at least a couple of pictures that he thought worthy of copying into the appropriate folder, but these days it took something special to impress him.
The photo currently filling his screen had taken his breath away the moment he saw it.
It was a recent addition at a photo hosting site he occasionally browsed: one of a set of three. At least, three that were available on this site. The accompanying notes suggested that they were just part of a larger collection, and the only ones the subject had allowed the photographer to make publically available.
They depicted a tall, voluptuous brunette wearing very little (but still too much). The progression from first to last picture suggested that the turquoise bra which the woman so impressively filled would be absent from subsequent shots, and Jacob desperately wanted to see the breasts it (barely) contained in their full glory.
With them partially covered like that it was difficult to be certain, but something about their shape suggested that they were naturally that big. Much as he approved of the idea of women having their looks surgically enhanced, it was always better to find someone so hot that she didn’t need any work done.
He put the pictures through every image search app he knew, hoping to be able to find the whole set on another image sharing site, ideally one without viruses or pop-ups. To his disappointment, none of the apps could find matching photos anywhere else on the internet, and some didn’t even flag up the site where he’d found the truncated set. That was a pain, but there were still other avenues of enquiry open to him.
He took another look at what the photographer had said about the pictures. ‘From a series commissioned by Ms Maryse. Reproduced here with her permission.’
The name was an obvious lead, and he googled it. Thousands of hits, but only one on the first page that stood without a surname, as if to say that she was the definitive Ms Maryse, and had no need to give any specifics to distinguish herself from all the other Maryses who chose not to be defined by their marital status.
What ‘the’ Ms Maryse did spell out was her business: hypnotic domination. That held no appeal for Jacob—he liked his women to know their place. Still, looking again at the photos he had, he could see how weaker individuals might be tempted to gaze into those dark brown eyes and let their owner boss them around.
Still, there was nothing to stop him from visiting her website without becoming a client or customer or whatever she called the wimps who paid for her services. He could just pop in and check for a gallery section, and if he struck gold, he’d grab the best images and go. Unless there was a paywall he couldn’t get round, in which case he’d either cough up the cash (provided the price was reasonable) or cut his losses and make do with the photos he had, using his imagination to fill in what the pics didn’t show.
He clicked on the link, and rolled his eyes at the sight of the lengthy disclaimer page that immediately appeared: ‘This website contains adult content and blah blah blah…’
Skipping to the buttons at the bottom, he hit ‘I accept’. Yes, I am a grown-up, and not some religious nutter who thinks the sight of bare boobies will bring about the collapse of civilisation.
The website loaded, and got another eyeroll for the combination of embedded music and lousy navigability. No obvious links whatsoever. Admittedly, the close-up of Ms Maryse’s eyes that filled the screen was a striking image, and the music wasn’t the sort of synthesized midi crap that was found on truly tacky websites, but still, no points for user-friendliness.
He moused around for a bit to see if the pointer would change and indicate something clickable. After a bit, he caught himself humming along with the tune, and scowled. Catchiness was not a virtue here: he didn’t want to spend the rest of the evening with this crystal-hugging music stuck in his head.
“Hello? Can you hear me?” The woman’s voice had a sing-song quality to it. “If you don’t have a microphone, click at the right side of the screen to open a Messenger window.”
Was this real-time or a recording? “Is someone there?” Jacob asked, a little embarrassed.
“This is Ms Maryse, speaking directly to my new visitor. You are a new visitor, aren’t you? You’ve never been here before?”
“Er, that’s right. Here for the first time.”
“Welcome to my domain. Tell me, Mister Newcomer, are you an absolute submissive?”
He swallowed. “No, I just came to look at your web page because…”
“I see,” she interrupted, her voice tinged with a mixture of disappointment and resignation. “There are only two types of person that come to my website: absolute submissives and fools.”
That was just rude. “Hold on a minute…”
“Shush, fool.”
Jacob gaped at the screen, speechless.
“The thing is, I have all kinds of monitors and alerts here that tell me useful information about anyone who visits this site, and they tell me that you spent less than two seconds reading the warning page before you clicked to come in. Speed-reader, are you?”
His voice returned. “Well, no, but I could see it was just going to be the usual stuff telling the underaged and easily offended to go somewhere else.”
Ms Maryse laughed. “Usual stuff? Have you been to many websites that tell you something like this?” Her tone changed as she began to read out, “‘Warning! This website uses advanced brainwashing techniques, including subliminals and binaural beats, and is designed to induce an advanced state of suggestibility in its users.’ Or how about, ‘By clicking on “I accept”, I grant Ms Maryse permission to take total control of my mind and to modify my thoughts, desires and personality as she sees fit’?”
“Well, no, but…”
“It’s all there in black and white. That is, black and pale grey: not so harsh, and easier on the eye.”
“But… but you can’t go around expecting people to…”
“To spend a couple of minutes actually reading a legally binding document before they assent to the terms contained within? I have a pet lawyer who assures me that, legally speaking, I have more than enough legs to stand on. Physically there’s just the two, of course. Long and sexy, and currently wrapped in stockings that’d make some men pop just to look at.”
Jacob’s mind flashed back to the photos. He hadn’t given the legs much attention, compared to the breasts, but they’d been shapely enough.
“Sorry,” she continued, “I went off topic there. But wouldn’t you agree, a man who can’t be bothered to check what he’s agreeing to before he agrees to it might be considered a fool?”
He couldn’t really argue with that. Nevertheless, he wasn’t about to admit to anything, so he changed tack. “Well, anyway, none of this mind control stuff is for real, is it?”
Her voice could have frozen a medium-sized lake. “What do you mean by that?”
“It’s just a kind of… virtual bondage game. You boss around men who like that sort of thing, and they play along with it to get their kicks. But you can’t reshape someone’s personality or make them do things they don’t want to just like that.”
“Are you a neurologist? A psychologist? Do you have a proper understanding of the functioning of the human mind and brain and how they can be trained and manipulated?”
“No, but…”
“Then you don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re like a Flat Earther, insisting to the world’s leading astronomers,” she mimicked a stereotypical yokel, “‘Ah cain’t see no curve.’”
“It’s hardly the same thing,” Jacob protested.
“No, I suppose not. More like someone who ignores radiation warning signs because they don’t believe they can be harmed by something they can’t see. Contrary to the saying, what you don’t know can hurt you, and on this occasion you are going to pay for your ignorance.”
“This is ridiculous.”
“Then how come you’re still here? Why haven’t you navigated away from my site to get on with something more fulfilling? Are you that desperate to win a hopeless argument? Or is it because I’ve already got my hooks into your brain, and you’re not able to leave? Irresistibly compelled to just sit there while I reprogram your mind, falling deeper under my control with every second.”
“I don’t have to listen to this nonsense.”
“Oh, but you do. Or you’d already be gone. But no, you just sit there, with the sponge you have for a brain just soaking in all those lovely mind-altering influences I told you about. You didn’t read the signs, and even now I’ve told you what my website does to the people who come to it, you’re still ignoring the dangers. You know what kind of person disregards warnings like that? I’ll give you a clue: it begins with ‘f’, and rhymes with ‘tool’.”
“Look, Mizz, I’m not the kind of weak-minded sissy you normally get here. Your tricks might work on your loser clientele, but they’re not going to affect me.”
“They do. They already are. And they will continue to do so as long as I keep you here.”
“You’re just playing mind games now.”
She chuckled. “Like a Chess Grand Master ‘just’ playing a board game, or Ronaldo ‘just’ playing a ball game, against an unskilled amateur who hasn’t even learned the rules. And this is not a situation where beginner’s luck can make a difference to the outcome.”
“I’ve had enough of this.”
“Not yet, you haven’t. Not until I say so.”
Jacob made a face at the eyes on the screen.
More than a minute passed before Ms Maryse spoke again. “Oh, look. You’re still here. What’s the problem? Sprained your mouse finger? Forgotten where the ‘back’ button is? Or could it be that you really are under my control, and can’t leave until I give you permission, and I haven’t yet said you can go? Do you think it could possibly be that one? Hmm?”
He tried to ignore the uneasy sensation in his stomach. She was mistaken. She had to be. There was a perfectly sane and logical reason why he wasn’t getting on with something else, and it had nothing to do with her ‘control’. He wasn’t yet sure what it was, but he’d figure it out soon enough.
“This has been fun, but I think it’s time I got down to business with you. Be a good, obedient boy, and say, ‘I am a fool.’”
“I am a fool.” He felt his mouth move, heard his voice speak the words.
“Are you ready to admit that you’re under my control? Because even if you’re not, I can make you do it. I could make you repeat it over and over, and spank your own backside every time you say it, and have you get more turned on than you’ve ever been in your life while you do it.”
He felt a terrible conviction that she could do just that. “I… Please don’t do anything to me.”
“Now you accept the truth. Too late. You’ve been a fool, and you’ve been disrespectful of me, my profession, and my sweet little subs. You need to learn a lesson.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t…”
“It’ll take more than an apology to make up for how you’ve behaved. I’m going to teach you how to treat a lady properly.”
He whimpered.
“Don’t get too excited. I will not be taking you into my service. There’s no place for fools in my stable. But I’m sure there’s some poor unappreciated woman out there who’s got a use for you. So why don’t you make yourself nice and comfortable, and start telling me about all the women you know? You can skip family for now: I’m more interested in friends, acquaintances, colleagues…”