The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The video of Todd spread quickly, and rapidly began to go viral. While markmywordz2009 only had a few hundred followers at the outset, the contents of the footage were enough that many of these subscribers began to pass the video around to their friends, astonished to at last find a street hypnotism video that really seemed to go beyond the rest.

A strange and highly niche YouTube subgenre, the street hypnosis video generally features a hypnotist stopping random passers-by in public—exactly as Mark had been doing—and getting them to undergo a few simple hypnotic tests. As the subjects begin to sink deeper into their relaxed state, the hypnotist runs through a few of the basic routines—forgetting a name or number, getting stuck to a nearby object, maybe running around and acting like an animal or something crazy for a finale. Todd’s video was different. Todd’s video, after a fairly standard introduction, pushed the boundaries of what was expected, and pretty much shattered them by the end.

The 17:11 featurette, titled somewhat redundantly “EXTREME HYPNOTISM—GUY HYPNOTIZED ON STREET BECOMES NUDIST!!,” begins with a standard enough post facto introduction by Ryland, speaking directly to the camera: “Hey guys, markmywordz2009 here. Today I’ve got something a little different for you, and I swear, this is the most EXTREME hypnosis you will see on the Internet—for now. I met this guy on the street who, as it turns out, was a omnambulist—capable of going quickly into a profound state of hypnosis. For anybody skeptical of my other videos, I defy you to watch to the end and tell me that hypnotism does not work. And for those of you who like my other stuff, stick around ’til the end, ’cause this is probably my most amazing stunt yet. Check it out, and be sure to like, follow, share, and tell your friends. And if any of you out there wants to get hypnotized, especially you lovely ladies, hit me up in the DMs. Later.” He flashes a peace sign and the video cuts.

“My name is Todd, and I’m ready to be hypnotized,” says Todd directly to the camera, flashing a nervous smile. The video cuts to black, and a title appears: “STREET HYPNOSIS WITH... TODD.” The video dissolves back in, with the title slowly fading, onto sped-up images of Mark giving his induction, which go out-of-focus as more text fades in: “Mark spent 5 minutes taking Todd into a state of DEEP relaxation. To get to the good stuff, we’ve cut out this part of the video. Here are the results...”

The video cuts back to a clear image again of Mark snapping and Todd raising his head, blinking his eyes. It runs through a fairly quick digest of the events of Todd’s show in the park, beginning with the poor boy forgetting his name, becoming “Dickhead,” and ending up screaming “I’M PROUD TO BE A DICKHEAD!” as the crowd full of onlookers gawks and laughs. Another jump cut moves things along to a sleeping Todd—or Dickhead—receiving his ballet instructions. He nods serenely as Mark speaks firmly in his ear: “When you hear a piece of ballet music coming from my phone, you will instantly become the world’s greatest ballerina. You’ll gracefully begin to dance around the circle, leaping, twirling, and performing like the greatest ballerina on the planet. Nod your head if you understand.” Todd nods. “One, two, three, eyes open.” Snap. Dickhead performs as instructed. Missing, of course (and carefully covered up by Mark with his re-insertion of the “Dickhead” command), is the entire sequence of Todd signing the contract under hypnosis, as well as giving (very much hypnotized) verbal confirmation of his enthusiastic desire to participate. That was banked for later.

For now, it was just Dickhead leaping around the circle, then going back into trance, getting his name reverted, receiving instructions: “...anytime you hear me say the word ‘barnyard,’ you’re going to cluck and peck just like a chicken on the farm. Your arms will raise up into wings and you will begin to cluck around like a happy rooster. Nod your head if you understand...” Todd nodded. “Very good. Wide awake on the count of three, still believing you’re not hypnotized...”

More of the same. Todd becoming a chicken, Todd rocking out, finally even Todd becoming a stripper. After Todd’s final, nearly naked stint as a chicken and Mark’s big speech to the audience, Mark awakens him and puts him to sleep one last time and the video again goes out of focus. A superimposed Mark appears to the side, and again begins speaking to the camera: “All right, guys. Now that I just finished my best street hypnosis ever, here’s what you’ve been waiting for. What you see me doing here is instructing Todd to pick up all his clothes, put a tampon in his mouth, and walk home convinced that he’s totally dressed. Oh, and wait ’til you see what he does every time he stops at a traffic light...”

Snap. Todd raises his head, blinking and looking around. A cut back to Mark eliminates a bit of their conversation. “One last big hand for Todd!” says Mark, as the camera pans around the remaining crowd. Turning back to Todd, it catches the nearly naked boy, dressed only in his underwear and shoes, picking up his bag and heading off. If the viewer looks carefully, a small white string can be seen protruding from his mouth.

“All right, man, we got all our shit?” asks Mark, looking around. Another quick cut. “Go, go, just follow him! I’ll catch up with you...”

The camera jogs off after Todd, the footage suddenly becoming more verite than the slicker professional angles from before. Keeping a safe distance and crouching occasionally in the bushes, we follow Todd as he walks calmly through the park, seeming for all the world to be completely unaware of his nudity. The camera jiggles a few times with sniggers as Todd waves to joggers passing by or couples seated on benches, all of whom give him strange looks. After maybe thirty seconds or so of this, the camera cuts to Mark running up.

“Un-be-LIEVABLE, dude!” exclaims the cameraman in a pretty classic bit of bro-speak. “This guy has no idea he’s naked!”

“You’re watchin’ YouTube history right here,” says Mark, flashing a boom sign at the camera. We whip pan back over to Todd, who’s continuing to stroll obliviously down the path.

“Ah, shit dude, shit, he’s heading for the exit. We gotta see what happens at the stoplight!” The cameraman takes off jogging after the near-naked boy and Mark quickly follows, jogging alongside. He’s grinning ear to ear, apparently as nonplussed that his plan is actually working as everybody else is.

Another short cut and Todd’s walking across the corner to stop at a crosswalk. An old lady standing next to him gives him a double-take when she notices what he’s wearing. The young couple in front of him doesn’t seem to notice.

“Dude, dude, let’s see if he does it!” says the guy from behind the camera expectantly.

Todd stops a respectable distance behind the couple. Raising his hands to his mouth, he pops out the tampon and suddenly and unexpectedly yells, “I’M A PRETTY PRINCESS!!” The couple in front of him and the old lady all jump, turning to look at the source of the commotion. Mark and the cameraman just about die laughing as Todd pops the tampon back in and politely waves at them. The camera whips back at Mark. “Oh—my—GOD!” says the cameraman.

“TOTAL hypnotic control!” exclaims Mark to the camera.

“I can’t believe it. He’s fucking doing everything...”

“Keep filming, keep filming...”

The camera whips back to Todd, who’s begun crossing the crosswalk. Both the couple and the old lady are giving him a wide breadth, hanging back and looking at him strangely. Oblivious, Todd continues across the intersection, waving to a couple people heading in his direction as one looks away and the other, a young woman, attempts to stifle some laughter.

Cut again. “And why is he doing that?” asks the woman from the couple, looking slightly off-camera. The view pans to face Mark.

“He’s hypnotized,” says Mark.

“Nah-uh...” she laughs, incredulous.

“Hundred percent.”

“Shut up!” the girl looks after Todd as the camera pans over. He’s halfway down the next block, still obliviously naked, waving to people in various stores and cafes.

“You go, follow him, man, I’ll give them a card,” says Mark, and the camera dashes off again after Todd. Still hanging back about 20 yards and relying on the zoom, it doesn’t take long to catch him at the next crosswalk: “I’M A PRETTY PRINCESS!!” The camera shakes with laughter as the light changes and Todd continues across the street.

The video continues like this for another minute or two, finally cutting to a location outside an apartment building on a wooded street. The camera is again following Todd on zoom, watching as he walks up the walkway. Stopping at the stoop, he sets down his bag, fumbles inside and eventually pulls out a set of keys, which he uses to unlock the door.

“Holy fuck, he did everything perfectly...” mutters the cameraman.

Todd slips inside and closes the door. A strange still moment passes, where the camera is finally focusing on nothing. Then at last it pulls back, focusing instead on Mark again.

“There you go. Unbelievable. Greatest hypnosis ever.”

The video cuts to black, with colorful onscreen text appearing: “MARKMYWORDZ2009—LIKE—FOLLOW—SHARE.” After a second, another piece of text fades in below: “Let us know in the comments if you want to see more HYPNO TODD.”

Many of the comments are typical: “First,” “Fag,” “Fake.” “How did Todd feel about the things he was made to do under hypnosis?” asks one user seemingly innocuously, though a search of his other comments would reveal a similar line of questioning on almost any publically posted video of a young male being hypnotized. “Is this real?” “I wanna be hypnotized, it looks fun,” opines another user. “make him sing lady gaga,” says another. “Impressive.” “Keep it up.” “Shared.” “I love all your vids.” “Todd is a really great hypnosis subject. Please have him get in touch if he wants me to hypnotize him,” says another user whose account is full of recorded Skype hypnosis sessions with young males. “Do you think it’s appropriate to make a guy do this against his will?” asks one more intrepid viewer.

Regardless of the commentary, the video became decently popular, racking up in the low five digits of viewership within about a week and getting shared around by a number of people. It was successful enough for a start, matching and slightly besting the views for the naked drive-thru video, but now that he had momentum and a lock on a solid subject, Mark knew he could do better. A week and a half later, with his cameraman again in tow, Mark drove to the building the two had watched Todd walk into just ten days before and parked on the quiet tree-lined street. Pulling out his cell phone, Mark selected the number he had put in that Saturday. It was time to call Todd.

A lot had happened in the week-and-a-half since Todd had been hypnotized. Arriving back home that day, Todd had continued to behave as instructed, acting completely normal and setting his bag down by the door as he entered and slipped off his shoes. He was still ruminating over a strange encounter in the elevator, with a middle-aged neighbor he had run into once or twice before, from a few floors down. “Laundry emergency?” the neighbor had asked, looking Todd over. Todd still couldn’t figure out what that had meant, and had just smiled and nodded at the time. He wondered if it wasn’t some sort of subtle critique about his dress, but he liked the new outfit he had purchased, so he couldn’t imagine what would be so funny.

In a way, it was probably good that Mark and his compatriot weren’t watching, as they very well might have gotten bored. Todd followed his commands so exactingly that he spent at least a good half hour lounging around the apartment in his skivvies, first pouring himself a glass of water and grabbing a piece of fruit before flopping back to relax on the couch and take in a little TV. It was only about halfway through the program, when Todd went to use the bathroom, and after taking a long and refreshing piss, that he happened to look in the mirror and notice he was almost entirely naked. The poor boy’s mind scrambled to process the information—when had he taken off his clothes? How long had he been walking around like this? He seemed to remember getting his keys out of his pants in the bag, which meant that his clothes were in there... But why did he have the bag? And hadn’t he been carrying the bag outside? What had he been wearing then? He knew he was wearing something, he just couldn’t remember what, or for that matter why he was carrying the bag. The guy in the elevator had said something about laundry—had he been doing laundry and thrown it in the bag? That made sense. And maybe after putting the laundry away he’d tossed the clothes he’d been wearing the bag, meaning to throw them in the hamper...? But no, he didn’t remember folding laundry... But the guy in the elevator had said...

Poor Todd’s mind ran round and round in circles, reinterpreting evidence and creating strange justifications that never quite lined up, all with the studious subconscious intent of avoiding the obvious—just as Mark had instructed, Todd realized what he was wearing, but remained completely ignorant of anything that had come before. It’s hard to say for sure if Mark understood the implicit sadism of the order he had given—something outwardly less cruel and humiliating than forcing the boy to remember his actions from the day, but equally as sadistic for the tortured mental gymnastics it obligated him to complete. Nevertheless, complete the command Todd did, turning over the evidence again and again until he finally gave up and decided that at least he knew where his clothes where and had probably just stripped them off to relax, even if it was terribly unlike him. Shy as he was, however, walking naked through the street seemed the less likely option, so Todd was able to ignore his subconscious knowledge of his actions and simply shrug off the events as a bizarre episode in a tiring day.

Finished with his mental struggle, Todd finally decided simply to strip off his socks and underwear and cool down with a relaxing shower. Meanwhile, across town, Mark’s cameraman, Tyler, was dropping Mark back at his place, while making final arrangements to offload and begin editing the video as soon as possible. Mark, of course, had other plans—plans that were already texting him right now, in the form of Hailey, one of the girls in the park (in fact, the one who had given Todd her tampon) with whom Mark had been (he assumed) surreptitiously flirting. As he suspected, Hailey was intrigued by the whole endeavor, and despite the abuse heaped on poor Todd, had wanted to inquire about a private hypnosis session, saying she had always wondered about the possibilities of orgasming while hypnotized.

Leaving Mark at his place, Tyler drove the short ways back to his own house a few blocks away and immediately set about downloading and editing the shoot. Tyler had met Mark at the store, where he’d immediately become fascinated by the young man’s ability to get their coworkers to make buffoons out of themselves. He would never forget the first day, when Kara, one of the stock girls, had run in back to tell him that the new guy had hypnotized Ryan, the shift manager, and had him croaking like a bullfrog in the break room. Of course, Tyler had rushed off immediately, as Ryan was the bane of his existence—a douchebag frat-boy wannabe who used his roided-out physique and minor surplus of authority to compensate for his raging inferiority complex every chance he got. There was no particular love lost between Tyler and Ryan, the former of whom deeply resented his boss’ authority and the latter his employee’s constant laid-back demeanor and near complete lack of work ethic. The fact that Tyler usually arrived five minutes late and reeking of pot didn’t help matters, nor did the fact that he generally wore T-shirts that looked like they came out of a rummage bin, in contrast to the mid-scale dress shirts peddled in the front of the store. (There was a reason Tyler was generally confined to the stock room in all but the direst of circumstances.)

So, when Kara had rushed in informing him that Ryan was currently hopping around the break room convinced he was a bullfrog, Tyler knew he had to see it pronto. As he rushed in, the scene fulfilled everything he was hoping for. There was Ryan, dressed in his traditional shiny, striped button-up, shirttail hanging down perfectly over his gym-toned ass, dark hair immaculately gelled and styled, sitting on his haunches on the ground, looking around blankly while flicking his tongue out of his mouth like an idiot.

“Holy shit! Dude, this is AWESOME!” Tyler yelled, unable to even contain his excitement at seeing his obnoxious boss humiliated.

“Check this, man,” said Mark, grabbing a paper plate off the table he was sitting by which had had a few tiny black raisins poured out on it. Setting the plate down on the ground, Mark watched with a twinkle in his eye as Ryan let out a “ribbit” and hopped over, squatting down as far as he could, then leaning over and sticking his tongue out to try to snare one of the little raisins.

“Does he know what he’s doing?” asked Tyler, mesmerized by the spectacle. Visions of further humiliation danced through his head... He couldn’t wait to take this guy down about a hundred pegs—with the help of his new best friend.

“I mean, he knows he’s doing bullfrog stuff. I don’t know if his brain understands things we’re doing right now or not. He’ll understand my commands, like if I say, ‘Bullfrog! Sleep.’” Ryan relaxed back on his haunches and his head dropped down, though he remained sitting. He looked for all the world like he had just fallen asleep, in the most uncomfortable position ever.

“I don’t really know if he’s thinking human thoughts in the moment, though. I usually wipe their memory when I wake them up,” Mark added. Tyler’s mind continued racing. He imagined having the chance to tell this douche off to his face, with no repercussions...

“Man, this is so awesome. What else can you make him do?” Tyler asked, agape.

“Whatever we want...” said Mark, with no idea how enticing he was being. “Ryan, at the count of three when I snap my fingers, you’re gonna be a goldfish. Nod your head if you understand.” Ryan nodded sleepily.

“Okay. One, two, three, goldfish,” Mark said, snapping. Ryan’s eyes lazily opened and he slowly slid forward in his crouch, flopping belly-down onto the floor. Folding his arms up at his sides so his wrists were about mid-chest, he began flapping his hands like little fins and softly kicking his legs, which he held pressed together. His mouth opened in a little “O” and he wriggled on the floor, convinced in his own mind he was swimming through a happy ocean.

Tyler was hopping up and down with excitement, laughing. “Oh my god, dude, this is hysterical!” he yelled.

“All right, wake him up, break’s almost over. I’m going back out on the floor,” said Kara, generally the more responsible of the two senior (non-hypnotized) employees. Though hired a few weeks after Tyler, she was doubtless the next in line for promotion to manage, Tyler having been effectively exiled to the stockroom for eternity.

“Okay, what do we do with him next?” Tyler asked excitedly the second Kara was out the door.

“I’m gonna wake him up, man. It’s my first day here. I don’t wanna get dinged for fooling around.” Mark was about as much of a doofus as Tyler, but he was more calculating. He could keep his eye on the prize (remaining employed) without getting too lost in the details of the moment.

“Nah, man, do something else with him. I fuckin’ hate this guy,” Tyler said, already losing sight of whether or not Ryan might remember what he said while under.

The two reached a compromise. Mark brought Ryan back up into his chair and slowly began walking him out of his trance. As he did, however, he implanted a few suggestions. The first, as usual, was that he wouldn’t remember his time under hypnosis, and would believe the entire experiment had been a failure. This was standard procedure with Mark, as it ensured him safety from retribution for his misdeeds while the subject was under, at least for a while (sometimes they eventually remembered). Nevertheless, he instructed Ryan that he had also found it a relaxing experience, and that he would be eager to try again, because even when it failed, it felt like a really nice meditation session. This was also standard. Mark loved priming his victims to submit readily for more abuse.

The final command was just for Tyler. Whenever Mark said the phrase “dance party,” Ryan would begin dancing a jig, to be continued until Mark followed with “wake.” Tyler had wanted to make him whisper “I have a tiny penis” every time he was about to give a girl his number, but again, Ryan elected for a less splashy option. In the event they were somehow discovered, he needed to keep things light, at least at the outset. For that same reason, he quickly revised his initial impulse to give Tyler the power of the trigger too—in just the few minutes he’d known him, the boy had already demonstrated to Ryan that he was far too indiscrete. Nevertheless, there was a vibe to Tyler that Mark appreciated (his vicarious enjoyment of Mark’s power trip), and he was eager to get to know him better. There was already something about Ryan that rubbed Mark the wrong way, too (presumably his possession of any degree of authority over him), so he was eager to meet a coworker who had already demonstrated a clear degree of contempt for his boss.

After finally being brought out of trance, Ryan seemed none too thrilled to find his favorite employee sitting a chair over from him, apparently having been observing the latter half of their experiment. Glancing at the clock and stretching, he muttered, “Shit, that ate up the entire break. Sorry it didn’t work. It was pretty relaxing, though.”

“Aw, try a little bit longer! I think he almost had you...” Tyler whined.

“Nah, man, time to get back out there. Time’s money,” said Ryan, rising to his feet.

“Dance party!” said Tyler, excitedly.

Ryan looked at him like he had lost his mind. “What the fuck’s with you?”

“Yeah, man, why did you just say ‘dance party?’” Mark asked nonchalantly.

Immediately, Ryan’s hands slid to his hips and his feet began to kick out in a spasmodic jig as his face melted into a broad grin. Tyler lost it, doubling over in his chair and slapping his knee theatrically. Mark let it continue for about 20 or 30 seconds before saying “Wake.” Stopping mid-move, Ryan shook his head a bit to regain his senses and looked down at the two guys.

“Come on, chop chop,” he said, turning and heading for the door as if nothing happened.

From then on the two were the best of friends. They immediately bonded over the fact that neither of them could stand Ryan’s club douche demeanor, and Mark took plenty of opportunities to continue playing with his ostensible boss. It started out small, with a few more lunch and break-time demonstrations along with triggering Ryan at various points throughout the day—starting off with something like the jig, the bullfrog, howling like a wolf, and progressively growing more extreme as Mark become increasingly confident in his subject’s responsiveness to his suggestions (and the totality of his hypnotic amnesia). One evening when it was just the three of them in the store, Mark had stopped Ryan during a quiet moment, put him under, and told him that any girl that began to flirt with him would start to have an unbelievable pussy stink. Tyler and Mark were dying as they watched Ryan repeatedly try to hit on his usual prey before abruptly cringing and turning ice cold as they began to reciprocate his interest. By that point he would usually direct the girl to either Tyler or Mark for assistance, and Mark even managed to nab a number or two off Ryan’s unknowing wing-manning. He also took the opportunity to show off his skills with another young woman, explaining to her that the manager was hypnotized and what he’d been ordered to do. Dropping Ryan back under before her incredulous eyes, Mark had turned him into a dog—a suitably emasculating trick, he’d thought, which backfired when she told him to change him back to normal so she could really get his number. Mark managed to chase her out of the store by turning into a complete asshole—he didn’t need this cunt mentioning things to Ryan and ruining his fun. Nevertheless, the moment before had been a thrill... Flirting with a pretty girl—another man’s quarry, at that—wasn’t enough. Completely humiliating that guy in front of her was the real turn-on.

Ryan, unbeknownst to himself, developed a bit of a following on YouTube as “DogBoy Manager,” in a series of videos where Mark and Tyler played around with him on those late shifts. In addition to the classic “pussy stink” videos, of which there were at least three, there was also “EMPLOYEES MAKE MANAGER CLEAN ENTIRE STORE UNDER HYPNOSIS,” where Mark and Tyler indeed followed Ryan around as he dutifully did all their section chores after hours, then woke him up at the end and had him offer a heartfelt thanks for a job well done. The most popular of all was “DOGBOY MANAGER SNIFFS ASS,” which was exactly what it sounded like. In the video—again shot after hours—Ryan is put into trance and transformed into a dog who starts running around the floor. When he stops to sniff Tyler’s crotch and butt, the young guy gets an idea, quickly unbuckles his shorts and sticks his bare ass in his manager’s face. Still lost in his part, Ryan dutifully snuffles around the crack of Tyler’s ass for a bit, then pops his tongue back out and starts panting happily. A cut later, and Mark is smearing a spoonful of peanut butter in Tyler’s crack, then instructing his manager to eat it. No spoiler alert necessary that Ryan had the area sparkling clean in the matter of about a minute, which gave Mark, holding the camera, more than enough time for lots of good close-ups.

In addition to Ryan, the two had eventually managed to talk Kara and another coworker, Stephanie, into participating, though with the caveat that each would be done separately so they could watch the other and make sure nothing untoward happened. Sensing an opportunity, Mark had been on his best behavior, making Kara do a few simple tricks (hand stuck to the table, forgetting a number) that were all de rigeur in the hypnosis playbook and perfect for gaining the trust of newbies. The same was repeated with Stephanie, who responded similarly, and that was that.

It wasn’t until a few weeks later that Mark floated the idea again to Kara, with whom he’d started developing a degree of flirtatious energy. Reluctantly, she agreed to let him try again alone in the break room, as long as he didn’t try any “funny business,” and he swore on a stack of bibles. Seven or eight minutes later, she was panting like a dog at his feet while he recorded some choice shots on his cell phone. By the end of the session, he had her wimpering on the floor, each snap of his fingers eliciting a fresh round of “puppy orgasms” that turned her into an adorably squeaking blob of flesh. A few days later, he performed the same trick again, showing it off to Tyler—who he knew had a bit of a crush on Kara—and finishing by giving him the power of an orgasmic handshake. It was a thrill getting to revel in his complete control over Kara, but it was somehow even hotter knowing that he was using her to cocktease his friend. Something about demonstrating his power over women in front of other men really got Mark’s rocks off, making him feel not just like a man, but a complete and total alpha.

Mark had only convinced Tyler himself to submit to hypnosis once, and he had actually proven to be one of the more resistant subjects Mark had encountered. It had taken the cajoling of a few coworkers—all of whom had eventually, gamely given in and tried at one point or another—to get Tyler to capitulate, and once he had gotten him in the hot seat, Mark seemed to have a degree of trouble taking him under. Tyler was so distractible that it was difficult to get him to focus, and even once Mark got him under, the trance remained light. Mark had started off with some simple routines—hand stuck to forehead, forgetting name—before moving on to making him compulsively scratch his balls without knowing what he was doing. That had gone fairly well, though when Mark tried to get Tyler to yell “I have a one-inch penis!” on command in front of the girls, he had quickly started giggling after “I have” and rapidly come out of the trance. Mark had tried to get him under a few more times separately, but Tyler remained resistant, and eventually Mark gave up. In a way, he was kind of happy to have a lackey and partner in crime, as much as he liked having a degree of control over everyone he knew.

With the two having had a great deal of fun working on their after-hours media with Ryan, it was only a natural step that they hit on the idea of expanding Mark’s burgeoning YouTube empire, and with Tyler effectively unhypnotizeable, he seemed as good a candidate as any to be cameraman. The two had begun with some pretty simple antics in the mall food court (though it was fairly echoey and a hard place to hypnotize in), and then moved out onto the streets on the weekends, seeking that perfect victim. It was only after a few months’ effort that they’d found Todd, and from the moment Mark first got him under, he knew he was the one. No one had gone down as easily as Todd, nor obeyed his commands as readily. It was like Todd was born to obey. His mind responded instinctively to command. And that was catnip to Mark.