WARPS
Here I was at thirty-three, a bachelor with absolutely no prospects-in fact, I hadn’t had a date in almost seven years, barely solvent, and living in a rat hole. All of this was by choice. My job as a lab technician certainly paid well enough for me to live better, but I had much more important things on my mind, and had had them for about twenty-five years. I could have been a doctor, making great advances in human medicine or something, but, by most accounts, I was-crazy. Not your garden variety undiagnosed schizophrenia or paranoid complex or something like that, but full- blown insane. The sociopathic kind that gets you committed.
But I’m really smart. I learned how to act normal from my last shrink during my last stretch in the nut house, enough so that I was pronounced cured, and released. Over that time, my megalomania also seemed to have waned, so maybe I wasn’t just playing along. Nonetheless, I was almost ready for my endgame. It was the culmination of a complicated plan that I first started to develop when I was eight. The endpoint was much less grand now-somewhere along the line, I decided that only a crazy person would want to take over the entire world.
The internet was a wonderful place. Window on the world, social exchange, shopping mall-and fantasy playground. OK, so I was like most single men without social skills-I got my sex from the Internet. And three women from one particular web site had piqued my interest enough to divert my pre-pubescent goal. I’d finally figured out that the secret to life’s happiness equaled three hot slave babes under my total control, and enough cash to enjoy them and everything else I’d wanted to do and see in life.
I looked at the globe that had taken about a quarter of my disposable income over the past ten years to create. The glass was scientific glass, and I had individually constructed the light emitters it contained by hand-with several expensive failures along the way. On the dining room table sat the charged spray canister; I had loaded it with my very special potion nicknamed WARPS, for “Will Abrogration and Removal Preparation Spray.” The creation of WARPS, its limited testing (and its antidote) had taken more than the rest of my disposable income. If this worked, I wouldn’t ever go without eating for days on end ever again. I had taken the antidote, designed to be permanent, about a week ago, and if the two-day massive headache I got was any indication of its efficacy, I wouldn’t be susceptible to my own potion-if it worked. The only problem was... would this work? And if it did, how many doses did I have? I wished for the thousandth time that I had had a human guinea pig, but I didn’t want to waste any of the precious stuff, especially since three of the ingredients had become-restricted access since I started, and I didn’t want to raise any terrorism alarms or alert my regular shrink that something was going on. As with most evil geniuses, these were still all minor details on the way to fulfilling a grand plan. It was time to start: I wasn’t getting any younger, and if none of this worked, at least I wouldn’t be in too much trouble.
Step One: The Pornographer
It was easy to find the guy I wanted, because he had to have an official place of business to prove that all his models were of legal age as mandated by 18 USC 2257, and it had to be displayed on his web site. Not only that, he had to have the forms available for inspection on demand. A cheesy badge from a novelty store and an almost-equally cheap suit helped complete my disguise, and I headed for the guy who made money by convincing young women to have sex with strangers and filming it, then posting it on his web site.
I knocked on the door after seeing him return from-work. I had followed him to his “hunting ground”, an adult bookstore, and spent hours waiting around the neighborhood until he left. I knew that it would be strange to hang around at an adult bookstore all day, but I wanted to make sure that he was the correct person to have cast as the linchpin to this entire scheme. He had a camera bag that looked too big, and he carried it into the bookstore, and about five hours later, out of the bookstore. “Police,” I said, using my most threatening voice and holding my badge to the peephole.
He opened the door looking bewildered. “No. Really. What’s this about?” I just told him to open the door as authoritatively as possible and asked to come in.
Once inside, I said, “We’re tracking a complaint that you have filmed minors for your website.”
“What? No way!” he exclaimed. “I’m real careful about that now! I’ve got all the forms and signatures! If any of them are underage, then the driver’s license they showed was phony! You’d better find them first before you come after me!”
“I assume that you took pictures of the age verification instrument,” I said in a flat voice, trying to make this guy nervous so that he would drop his guard. “If you did, then that would go a long way towards proving your innocence, and maybe keep your little website open and your cash flow going. At the least, it will keep you out of jail on a sexual predator charge.”
“You can’t do that! I’ve got proof!” he yelled, his composure completely lost. “I want my lawyer!” I explained that he wasn’t under arrest, and that if I could see the signatures he’d collected, I would let him know immediately if he should call his lawyer. He almost ran into another room, headed for the file cabinet. He pulled it open, but I didn’t really care, because I was reaching for my spray. When he turned back to me with a folder in his hand, I let him have it, spraying him directly in the face for about ten seconds. He choked and gagged, coughing, “What the hell was that?” and for a moment, I worried that my theories had been wrong and all my effort and sacrifice to this point had been for absolutely nothing. “You-you’re-not a-cop,” he haltingly said, followed by, “W-w-what was-that stuff? I don’ feel so good...” His legs wobbled, and he staggered towards me, until he had to grab onto the file cabinet for support, and rested his hands on the desk, shaking his head as if to clear it.
I pulled the light ball (“orb” sounds too pretentious) out of the bowling bag I had brought in. It’s super light, and the batteries hold a charge for about three hours. It activated automatically once I disconnected it from the charger in the bag, flashing gently in a steady, pulsating rhythm. Not bright, and nothing like the loud, flashy strobes you might think I’d need. Only the frequencies of the light were important, nothing else. Specific frequencies in a specific sequence triggered the release of specific neurotransmitters in the brain, and the enzyme I’d spent so long creating was designed to alter that specific neurotransmitter. If it worked, it should render a human being almost completely suggestible. Well, it seemed to work in rat brains, the closest analogue I had to humans for testing.
He was immediately captivated by it. I let out the breath I was holding, and with a somewhat shaky voice, said, “I am your master, and you will do what I tell you to do. Do you understand?”
“Yes-Master.”
This was perfect! He just stood there, seemingly fascinated by the light, and awaiting my command! I was so thrilled that the world was spinning and my heart was racing and I almost passed out from excitement-I collapsed on the sofa, willing myself to calm down so that I could remind myself of the overall plan and this guy’s part in it. He had been staring into the light for five minutes before I said my next words. “You have every release form with contact and tax information for every model you’ve ever filmed, correct?”
He replied, “Yes-master,” and I told him to fetch them and give them to me. Well, this guy was successful, so he pointed at the entire file cabinet. OK, it was going to be a long night. I only wanted three specific women he’d filmed, and I didn’t think he was going to be much help in his current state. It only took me a few minutes to get contact information for the first girl, but the second took a little longer-she was a semi-professional. I finally gave up as I started on the third folder from the second drawer. “Do you remember a girl named Natalie?”
“Which Natalie, master? Is that her real name or stage name? I give each of the girls a stage name so it’s less likely that they are easily identifiable.” It was a stage name. “Do you have an approximate date? I could find her faster that way.” I made him log into the site, since my subscription had expired, and quickly found her. Now I had the three names of the women I’d masturbated to on many nights watching them perform sex acts with complete strangers, and in some cases, anonymous strangers. OK, so now I was ready to get them. I had their home addresses and phone numbers.
“I want these women, and you are going to do anything to help me,” I commanded.
“Yes, master.”
“Let’s go to their houses. You know where they live, right?” I was drooling, any fatigue washed away by the excitement engendered by the obvious success of my brainwash, and the proximity of the realization of the second part of my plan.
“No, master,” he replied, bringing my rapid-fire fantasies to a sobering halt.
“What do you mean, no?”
I am not sure that the addresses are still good, master. It might be easier to contact them by the phone number, because they are cell numbers. Besides, they would go crazy if they saw me at their door, and there might be a boyfriend or husband involved. I had a bad experience once.”
I hadn’t thought of that, and all of a sudden, I was tired. “Let me sleep first, slave, and we will talk about this after I wake up.” Yawning, I added, “You will think nothing of my being here. I am your new partner, and we spent the night talking about the business. Now, you will go to sleep in your bed until I wake you up.” He moved as commanded after saying good night, and vanished down the hall. I carefully placed the light into its charger; I would need to have it fully charged for tomorrow, making sure that it would be the first thing he saw when he woke up-just in case the effect faded overnight. Satisfied that I had everything under control, I stretched out on his sofa and was asleep in minutes.
Step Two: Sally—The Leader of My Pack
“So how much do you offer the girls?” I asked him the next afternoon. So far, my slave showed no sign of coming out of his mindless obedience to my every command, so I was charging the light again. I had decided that the remainder of my plan might benefit from a little bit more planning; after all, I had been waiting eight years to get to this point, another few days wouldn’t make any difference except for trying my patience. Admittedly, that was a challenge, but the cold, calculating side of me could maintain control, knowing that a little more planning would increase the chances of complete success. The equipment worked. Now it was a matter of doing everything without getting caught. He replied that he paid the girls between one hundred and five hundred dollars, but usually around two hundred fifty. Given the cost of a subscription, and the number of girls he had on his page, this guy was making money hand over fist!
Resources weren’t a problem. “You will call this woman,” I ordered, pointing at my first target’s model release, “and offer her ten thousand dollars in cash, to come back-by popular request.”
“Yes, master-but I can’t get that much cash without alerting the IRS.” Damn, there were so many inconvenient rules in the world-but if I ruled it... No, no, NO! That kind of thinking is bad! Keep to the plan! After a few more carefully chosen questions, it was decided to offer her eight thousand in cash, paid up front. Slave wasn’t so happy about that, because... well, he was cheap.
“I will worry about that, slave. You only obey my every command. You want to obey my every command, you live to obey my every command.” I sternly said. Besides, I knew that Sally would be giving the money back right away, but I didn’t tell him that.
“Yes, Master. I will obey,” he responded. And then I told him everything that he was to do, and let him practice his part in the enslavement.
“Yes, really, Sally,” my slave said into the phone. “Well-you’re very popular, and I’d like to have you back. I know, I know you don’t do that kind of stuff any more, but I have lots of cash now. I’d be willing to pay you a grand-” I shook my head, and pointed up with a thumb. “Two grand-” Another shake of the head and signal from me. “Three-four?” He sighed. “I’ll give you five grand for this one-time deal. Yes, really. In cash. I can’t give you more than that in cash.” I frowned, but said nothing since it seemed like it was working. I’d eventually have to deal with his disobedience at some point. “-Right. You will? That’s fantastic! OK. When do you want to do this? Tomorrow? Great! Yes, I’ll pick someplace nicer and call you with the details later today.”
He turned to me. “She has accepted, master. She wants a better place than last time.”
“Fine, slave. Tell me where and when to be there.”
The following afternoon found me waiting in a private booth at an adult theater. There were several glory holes in the walls on either side of me, and my slave had arranged for one of the adjacent rooms to remain unoccupied until our prey arrived. I glanced at the magic canister, sitting in one of the chairs. Strangely, I wasn’t excited about the prospect of realizing the second part of my plan. I had nothing to do while I waited except worry about the possibility of failure, but a part of the rental deal was that I had to purchase a DVD for them to show in the room. I’d turned down the sound, because the sounds of fake excitement were annoyingly distracting, especially with the prospect that the spray might wear off at any moment. I had no real benchmark for the duration of the enzyme, because I couldn’t communicate with rats; I was relying on the cognitive abilities of the human brain to assimilate information and then store it for a long time. Truthfully, I had no idea if my implanted commands would still work after the enzyme had faded. Then again, I also had no idea of the half-life of the enzyme in human brain tissue. The old me would have tried to assess that, irrespective of the fact that I’d have to kill a human being to get a sufficient quantity of brain tissue and that it was illegal. The new me had used analogues, and hoped that the results held across species.
I heard the door for the room next to me open. My slave’s voice echoed in the hard room, “Here’s the five grand you asked for... I’ll give you the other three after we’re done.”
“Do you mind if I count it first? Not that I don’t trust you.” A female voice-it sounded like the same one on the website. My penis hardened and I wondered if I should have her suck me off through the glory hole before I enslaved her. No, that would be a deviation from the plan, and I had no idea if my slave could make decisions on his own to adjust. I willed myself soft while listening to her count. She got about halfway before saying, “It looks like it’s all here. Are you ready to get started?”
I waited for a knock on the wall, and then I stuck my fingers through the hole in it. Her tongue immediately caressed my skin and my penis swelled again, out of my conscious control. After about a minute, I withdrew my fingers as my nuts throbbed angrily. “Yoo- hoo?” she giggled. “Where are you big boy?” I picked up the canister, hoping that she was in range and sprayed through the hole. She choked and gagged and shouted, “What the hell is this? Some kind of sick joke? Let-let-let me-out...” her voice faded.
I left my room and quickly went next door. As directed, my slave was holding the light. One of the girls from my erotic dreams was gazing at it, her eyes distant. I also noted that my slave’s attention was also captive of the ball in his hands. Apparently, the enzyme hadn’t begun to decompose yet. “Sally?”
“Yes...” The soft, distant tone of her voice, combined with her rapt attention to send even more blood to my dick, but I knew there was no time for that now. I’d have plenty of Sally later.
I more or less turned the pornographer’s senses off, so he wouldn’t incorporate my commands accidentally. “You will only obey my voice. Look at me.” With obvious effort, she pulled her fascinated stare away from the soft, flashing light. “Sally, you are madly in love with me. You will do anything I ask, even if there’s a part of you that doesn’t want to. The only thing that matters is that you please me, and you know that pleasing me is simple. When you obey my commands, it will make me happy, and when I am happy you know I love you in equal measure.” Sally nodded, and a slightly different kind of fascination began to fill her eyes. I took the ball to make sure that her brain produced enough neurotransmitter for the command to become indelible. “You also find me incredibly physically attractive; attractive to the point that, when we are alone, your unoccupied thoughts turn to being sexually engaged with me. Do you understand, Sally?”
“Yes, baby...” she husked, her voice still distant, eyes locked on the ball, but she began shifting, and squeezing her legs together as she stood. After ascertaining that she had driven, I told her that she would have no memory of the spray and the light, and only remember giving an anonymous blowjob. I instructed both of them to act normally as they left, and return to my slave’s house- it was a more fitting base of operations since it actually had furniture and food in it. I placed the ball back into the charger, now located in his camera bag, and sent them on their merry way, while I returned to my booth now oblivious to the movie, and plotted the details of changing Sally into the perfect slave.
After recovering the cash from Sally, the pornographer fetched dinner, and then headed for a night out by himself. I told him that he was going to spend the night in a motel, just so I could have all the time and space I might need with Sally. I gave her a brief shot of the enzyme spray just to make sure, and sat her in front of the light. I asked her about her sexual orientation, experience, likes, and dislikes, promptly changing them to suit me and then I further intensified her attraction to me. “When I say, ‘Deeply hypnotized,’ your mind will go blank and you will go into a deep hypnotic trance where my words become your thoughts, and you will obey my commands without hesitation. You will do this because I am the sexiest man you’ve ever met, and you will do anything I say to stay with me. You will never become jealous of another woman who is with me. Do you understand?”
Her answer was bright, not mindless at all. “Yes.”
Finally, I added the finishing touch for me. “Sally, do you smoke?”
“Yes.”
“What brand?”
“Camel Lights.”
“From now on, you hate Camel Lights.”
“I hate Camel Lights.”
“You only like long brown cigarettes and cigars.”
“I only like brown cigarettes and cigars.”
Now she was ready to be the leader of my pack, and it was time to break Sally in. I turned off the light, put everything away, and waited for her sea-green eyes to show signs of cognitive thought. It took two hours, but she looked at me and coyly noted that we were alone. “C’mere,” she cooed, patting the sofa, “I won’t bite... but I might just-swallow.” As soon as I sat down next to her, she wrapped herself around me and kissed me very hard, and the kiss was so heated, full of intent, that I almost lost my load. Sally heard me moan as her hand rested on the growing bulge that had just appeared. “Ohhh,” she purred, “I better stop so you don’t mess your pants. I was about to tell her that I didn’t care, but she purposefully unzipped my pants. “There’s a better way...” her mouth engulfed my cock without hesitation.
I looked down at the strawberry-blonde hair and felt her mouth, tightened by suction, slide along my rigid dick. No hands, no hurry-at least she wasn’t. My hips started working by themselves, I groaned involuntarily, and the impact of the realization of my fantasy had me spurting-and spurting-and spurting... until I dribbled. Sally turned to me with a mischievous smile of achievement, and a little bit of cum on her chin. She had swallowed the rest. I felt drained and exhausted, but judging by the gleam in her eyes, she wasn’t finished. But I was. At least for a while, and I didn’t want to be bothered. “Deeply hypnotized and deeply asleep until I wake you up.”
“Yesssss... massss—” That was all she was able to say before the command took full effect. Sally slumped against me, unconscious. I rearranged myself for comfort, and I thought of step three for about a minute until I joined her in peaceful bliss.