The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Clyde was jostled awake by a shock of turbulence. He shook his head slightly and looked at his wrist. His watch read 8:37, but he had no way of knowing what time zone they were in. He looked out the airplane window and saw nothing but green fields of crops and empty county roads below through the dim early sunlight. “Ugh…” He had been hoping he would be able to sleep the whole way through to Las Vegas. Clicking through the channels on the screen embedded in the barrier ahead of him, he found the flight tracker and saw they were flying over eastern Colorado. He flopped backwards; only his U-shaped flight pillow prevented him from smacking himself on the headrest. What was the point of a super early morning flight if he wasn’t going to sleep through it?

After a long sigh, Clyde reached his hand down and patted it around to find his bag before pulling out a laptop. He looked to his right; everyone else he could see in First Class was still sleeping. He rolled his eyes. “Figures.” After a bit of resistance from the latch, he got his computer set up on the table in front of him and turned it on. He had the United Wi-Fi subscription; if he wasn’t going to catch up on his sleep, might as well use it.

Firing up Chrome, Clyde wiped the sleep out of his eyes before wading into his emails. His secretary Deb usually took care of the time-sensitive corporate ones, but his personal still got hundreds a day, so he figured this was as good a time as any to cut through the chaff. Shaking his head, he mumbled to himself as he perused through them. “Spam… spam… spam… sick of that guy… ignoring her… more spam… useless… obvious fraud… don’t talk to his ass anymore… ugh…” The emails were about as exciting and varied as ever, which is to say they made him want to carve out his own eyes with a melon baller.

After deleting a few hundred without opening a single one, he stumbled upon a message that actually caught his eye. It was from Deb, sent the previous evening around midnight. That was odd; it was definitely sent outside of her work hours, and she never emailed him outside of work hours, especially from her corporate account. His interest was piqued; maybe something interesting or fun had happened. Or perhaps something terrible. At this point, he would have been fine with either if it broke up the banality of the sleepy flight.

Mr. Biachi,

Apologys for the off-scedule email sir but Ive found an excitingb usiness opprotunity for you!

A women by the name of Miss Calia stoped by my hous today and showed me an exiting new gamlbing innoaction! she say that it will revolutinize the casgino industry and I totesally agree! I have a meeting scheduld for the 2o of you on Friyay at 3:00 pm. She wil meet you at yuor office!

Thx

Debra P. Collins

Corporate Assistant

Bianchi Resorts USA

Clyde’s face contorted in confusion. What in the absolute hell had gotten into Deb? He had never seen an email from her with a single typo before, let alone this alphabet soup. She didn’t even spell “Bianchi” right at the start. Maybe this was a prank? He shrunk the email app window and pulled open his Google Calendar. Sure enough, there it was: ‘Friday at 3:00 Meeting with Miss Calia’. At least that was spelled right. At least, he assumed it was. He’d never met this woman. Maybe her name was actually Callie or something.

The mouse cursor hovered over the email for another few seconds as Clyde pondered what on Earth happened. Maybe Deb just couldn’t wait until the next work day had started to share the news and was suffering from some extreme sleep deprivation when she sent that. Maybe she was drunk. Perhaps she was sleep deprived and drunk. Maybe her email address and his calendar had somehow been hacked by this mysterious ‘Miss Calia’ and she was the one who couldn’t spell? He didn’t have a clue.

His eyes scanned the email again, taking in more of what it actually said—or, at least, what he was able to parse through all of the typos—and he slumped back a bit in his chair. “An exciting business opportunity?” What could that possibly mean? Clyde couldn’t deny that he was always looking for some way to get an edge on his competitors. It was no small feat being the third-biggest name on the Las Vegas strip, but it was frustrating knowing it would be a Herculean feat to ever even come close to turning the ‘Big Two’ of MGM Resorts and Caesar’s Palace into a ‘Big Three’. His small batch of casinos on the east side of the strip were well visited enough, and profits were fine, but he certainly wasn’t turning enough to acquire anything new in town, and there just weren’t all that many new innovations being made to the casino game anymore.

Shrugging his shoulders, he reached back into the bag and pulled out a little notebook, jotting down the time and location of the meeting. In his office, of all places… he supposed it had to be a hell of a pitch if Deb was sending them directly to the CEO’s office instead of, well, anywhere else in the corporate ladder. He racked his brain; there weren’t any other times he could remember that someone he’d never met was granted a direct meeting with him. Either this woman had the best idea on Earth, or she was the most persuasive person on Earth. Or maybe she really did just get Deb drunk.

The rising sun started to beam through the plane’s window with a touch more force. Clyde checked the flight tracker again; they were entering southern Utah. He leaned back and smirked; at least he’d managed to waste a bit of time lost in his own thoughts and emails. After saving Deb’s and making a mental note to poke a little fun at her later for it, he continued sifting through the other couple hundred in his inbox.

Another uneventful hour passed before the airplane’s PA crackled to life. “kkt Good morning folks, Captain Finch here again. We’ve got the all-clear and we should be touching down in Las Vegas in, eh, we’ll say about 20 minutes. Skies are clear and the weather is, as you’d expect, a balmy and calm 79 degrees. Hope those of you who wanted one got a good rest on the way here from Miami. Thanks as always for trusting United Airlines to get you where you’re going.”

Clyde sighed as he watched the rest of the passengers begin to stir. He wished he’d gotten the extra 90 minutes of sleep that the others had, but it was fine. It’s not like he’d never taken an impromptu day off before. So long as he had his cell phone in case of an emergency, he could just spend the day at home relaxing. He quickly composed a message to Deb telling her that he was exhausted and would be taking the day to himself and stowed his laptop away as the rest of the passengers and crew readied for arrival.

After a nerve-fraying hour of the usual airport return trip fare and a long wait in the parking garage, Clyde sighed as he pulled his Rolls Royce into the large driveway of his home. Clyde got out of the car and stretched, suddenly feeling the wave of fatigue he’d been staving off hit him full force. He beelined straight inside and to the bedroom. As far as he could tell, his housekeeper wasn’t there this morning; he had the entire place to himself. He changed into some more comfortable clothes and flopped down on his California King. His head hit the pillow and every thought in his head dulled and diverted to a nice, long nap.

He only got about an hour of sleep before his cell phone began to ring. He grumbled to himself and hit the bedside table with his hand a few times, trying to sleepily find where he’d set the phone down. By the time he’d dragged himself up and found it, the call had been missed. He looked down at the notification; it was Deb. Working through his muddled thoughts, he decided he’d try and nap for another hour and then call her back in case it was actually something important, but before he could set the phone down it began to ring again. Sure enough, it was Deb. Clyde sighed, touched the screen, and croaked out a hello.

“Hello, Mr. Bianchi! Good morning!” Deb was far, far too chipper for his liking. He looked over at the clock. It was only 8:42. She usually didn’t even start work until 9:00. “Did you get my email from last night, Sir?”

“I uh…” Clyde was still only half awake, rubbing his temple to try and get his mind working again. “I did, Deb. Is there a reason it had the spelling and grammar of a drunk sophomore?”

He could hear Deb giggle on the other side of the line. “Sorry Sir! I was just so excited to share this opportunity with you that I guess I forgot to spellcheck!”

Deb giggling like a schoolgirl? Clyde’s eyes narrowed. This couldn’t be the same Deb he’d worked with for the last eight years. She was a touch more personable and fun outside of work hours, certainly, but when she was on the job she was one of the most dry and focused people around, all business all the time. That’s what he liked about her; he never had to worry about anything going astray or being misplaced when she was overseeing his affairs in the office. “Deb, are you feeling okay? You seem a little… out of it. And you sent that email to me at midnight last night.”

“Oh! Don’t be silly Mr. Bianchi, I’m doing great! I just wanted to give you an exciting update to the situation. I know that I originally scheduled your meeting with Miss Calia for Friday, but I was talking to her about it again this morning and when she heard that you were back in town we decided that hey, you know what, we shouldn’t have to wait two whole days to get you in the office with her!”

His expression darkened. “Deb, what did you do?”

“I decided to move the meeting up to today at noon for you! Miss Calia will meet you at your office then!”

Clyde’s eyes went wide as he realized the day off he’d planned was now over. As much as he tried to contain himself, a tinge of anger sharpened his voice. “You did what?! I sent you a message over an hour ago telling you that I wasn’t going to be in the office today! At all!”

“You did? Oh well, that’s my bad, sir! I was so excited to come in early and get this set up that I suppose I forgot to check my messages!” Deb giggled again, the sound only serving to exasperate Clyde further. “Well don’t worry sir, I promise you that once you come to this meeting you can go right back home after. It’s an opportunity that you don’t want to miss!”

“Deb, you’re making it sound like this Calia woman is going to try and sell me a timeshare or something. Did you get sucked into a pyramid scheme over the weekend or something?”

The giggling on the other end turned into a squeak of delight. He’d certainly never heard Deb make that noise before. “Oh, you’re so funny, Mr. Bianchi! Miss Calia is 100% on the level! She’s going to help take Bianchi Resorts USA to the next level with the innovations she showed me last night!”

Clyde’s mouth hung open slightly in disbelief at his secretary’s attitude shift. “Is there a reason you’re being so cagey about this with me, Deb? You keep talking about ‘exciting business opportunities’ and ‘innovations I won’t want to miss’ but you haven’t actually said what the hell this thing is yet.”

Another giggle rattled his ears. “Aww, Mr. Bianchi, I wanted it to be a surprise! It’s going to change your life, after all! Especially with that Miami contract coming soon, I thought you might be excited to find a new way to get a leg up on the competition!”

“Well, I mean… Yes, you know I’m all business, Deb. That said, you sound like you haven’t slept in a week or something. You sound out of it. Are you sure you’re okay? And… Well, quite frankly, even if you’re not, could you please just tell me what this woman is going to be pitching to me?”

“Okay, fiiiine, Mr. Bianchi.” Somehow, even over the phone, he could feel her rolling her eyes at him. “It’s a new type of video Keno machine that she invented, super cool and state-of-the-art! So state-of-the-art that she hasn’t even actually gotten the patents approved yet. But if you accept her deal, and I know that you will, being the smart man you are, the company is going to profit amazingly!”

It wasn’t what Clyde expected to hear. Keno? Who the hell still played Keno? That was his Dad’s favorite casino game. He was too tired and confused to argue. “I… fair enough, Deb. I’ll be in before noon. Just promise me you’re not gonna make any more impromptu appointments for me without calling first in the future. This is really unlike you.”

“I promise, Mr. Bianchi! Don’t worry, after you meet with Miss Calia you’ll be thanking me, I’m sure!” Deb hung up abruptly without saying goodbye.

All Clyde could do was lay back and ponder how the rest of the day should go. Was another hour of sleep worth it? Probably, but he figured it was best if he just got back up and got ready to head in. Maybe he could get some actual work done before Miss Calia showed up. He was determined not to have a bad day. And hey, maybe Deb wasn’t lying and this really was going to be a mind-blowing innovation he could partner with. That would cheer him up. He’d spent the entire last week in Miami being forced to listen to the most boring old men executives on Earth talk in monotone for 10 hours a day about building sites and profit margins. Anything was preferable to that, right?

After forcing himself out of bed he shaved and showered, trying to soak in as much relaxation from the scalding water as he could in lieu of more rest. He decided to order in for his breakfast and realized that he probably could have taken that nap after all; it was only 10:00. Oh well.

Clyde arrived at the Bianchi Resorts USA office complex a short time later, parking in his usual spot. He buzzed himself into the central building and waved to the desk attendant, who greeted him with a smile. He felt strangely nervous as he stepped onto the elevator to the 15th floor.

The walk down the hallway toward his office felt longer than normal as he shook his head, wondering what exactly it was he was getting himself into. Deb was at her usual seat outside his office, but at first glance he never would have recognized her. Far from her usual drab attire, she was wearing a bright red dress with white speckles down the side and a sharp cut in the front that gave her deep cleavage. Her long, sandy hair was coiffed in an elaborate bun tied up with a sparkling red ribbon, a number of loose strands flowing down the side of her face. She was wearing red lipstick, absolutely a first for her as far as Clyde had ever seen. He had thought a whole lot of things about Deb in the time he’d known her, but he’d never thought of her as sexy.

Clyde skipped a breath for a moment as he tried not to stare. “Oh… h-hello Deb… what’s the uh… the occasion?” He felt strange pangs of lust in his core; this wasn’t what he was expecting to see when he came in.

Looking up from her computer, Deb smiled warmly and adjusted her glasses. “Oh hello, Mr. Bianchi! Whatever do you mean?”

“Y-you, uh, usually don’t dress like this.” Clyde couldn’t stop his eyes from sliding down from her brilliant smile to her chest, which he could never recall having seen on display before. Even when she had been spruced up a bit for company Christmas parties and the like, you’d never have known she had that sort of look in her repertoire.

“Oh, right! Well yesterday evening when I was talking to Miss Calia, she was telling me that I looked a little bit boring, and the more we talked the more I realized just how right she was! She let me borrow this dress and make-up from her, and I think I look sooo good! Do you think so too, Mr. Bianchi?” Deb fluttered her eyes at him while putting on a coy grin.

“Ah, um…” Clyde’s face turned red. Was Deb flirting with him? He had to hand it to her; his bad mood from earlier was dissipating as she gave him that alluring smile. “You, uh… yes, you look amazing, Deb. This Miss Calia must have excellent taste in, uh… fashion.” He pulled at his collar a bit as he felt sweat soaking the back of his head. He quickly wiped his hand through his black hair and tried to surreptitiously wipe it on his slacks without her noticing. If she did notice, she didn’t make a note of it. She was just gazing directly at his eyes with a seductive look still on her face. “If, uh… if you’ll excuse me, Deb, uh… I’m going to go get ready for the meeting. Let me know when she’s arrived, won’t you?”

Deb pouted a bit at the conversation’s abrupt end. “Okayyyy, Mr. Bianchi. If you insist. I know you’re a busy man!” She gave a slight shrug as she smiled and closed her eyes before looking back to her computer, though it didn’t really look like she was doing much of anything on there but expectantly staring at the screen.

Immediately after entering the office, Clyde noticed a large… something in the corner of the room with a fire blanket draped over it. He cocked his eyebrow; was this the machine that he was going to be shown later? Clyde sat down at his desk, trying to ignore the mysterious delivery. His watch read 11:02. Still an hour to go. Trying to catch up on more emails, he couldn’t help but keep looking up and wondering. Slowly but surely, his curiosity began to overtake him. There were no signs or notes on it saying that he couldn’t look at it. So why not take a peek? He briskly stood up and walked over, pulling the fire blanket away.

A dazzling sight was revealed; it was a sleek, modern machine covered in sparkling, wavy patterns of gold and red. On the side of the machine was a stylized artist’s rendition of a smiling woman with dark brown hair dressed in a skimpy, red magician’s outfit. She had a red top hat on her head embossed with a chrome spiral and was holding a magic wand, from which the patterns covering the rest of the machine were emanating and surrounding her. The same picture was on the other side as well. There was a large golden button standing out in the center of the console. The machine’s large screen was surrounded by a circular plastic frame with “H-Y-P-N-O-K-E-N-O” in crimson letters wrapping around the top.

“HYPNOKENO?” Clyde was impressed. “Interesting gimmick. These days the machines all seem to be modeled after celebrities and TV shows.” He thought about plugging it in and checking it out, but he decided that he should wait for Miss Calia before taking any more liberties. A quick peek at the unit’s back revealed a mess of switches and dials and the last thing he wanted to do was accidentally break something or mess up any settings. If nothing else, though, he was now intrigued. He walked back to his desk and lost himself in his emails again.

Finally, a loud beep came from his desk phone. He hit the red intercom button and turned his head slightly. “Hey Deb.”

“Hiya, Mr. Bianchi! Miss Calia is here for your meeting, shall I let her in?”

“Go ahead, Deb. Thanks.”

Clyde heard the door open and his eyes bulged as a stunning woman sashayed into the room. She had shoulder-length brown hair and was wearing a tight, sparkling pink dress and bright red lipstick. She was very clearly the muse that the art on the side of the machine had been based on. Her lips curled into a smile as she approached the desk and leaned over to put her hands on it with a bit of force, giving a deliberate bounce to her breasts as she showed off her cleavage. “Good afternoon, Mr. Bianchi. So lovely to meet you!” Her voice was smooth, joyful, and melodic.

A tingle ran through Clyde’s spine and he felt the back of his head begin to sweat again at the sight. He gulped and took a shallow breath, trying to keep his composure. He may have been a Las Vegas CEO, but between this and Deb’s outfit from earlier it was all a lot more on show than he was used to in his usual environment of boring men in stuffy suits. “Ah, um… yes, Miss Calia, hello. Good to meet you as well. I apologize if your machine was meant to be a surprise to me; when I arrived earlier I couldn’t help but take a peek.”

Calia smiled and nodded as she slid her arms back up the desk to straighten herself again. “Not a problem at all, Mr. Bianchi. It’s a machine that’s meant to be looked at, after all!” She walked to it and caressed the side with her hands, striking a pose as she lifted her knee up to it. “Do you like it? I’m rather proud of it, myself.”

Clyde stood up and walked over, taking another look around it. “The design is quite impressive, certainly. I, uh… presume that’s meant to be you?” He pointed at the design of the woman on the side.

“Ah, yes.” Calia giggled. “That is my one little injection of egotism into this project, I’ll admit. I’ve always loved the magic and stage hypnosis acts this town produces. In fact, someday very, very soon I hope to be a headliner myself.” Calia winked at Clyde with a slightly smarmy look on her face and stuck out her tongue playfully. “But until that day finally comes, putting myself in that lovely outfit on the side of my machines will have to do.”

He nodded and smiled, ready to talk business. “Well, hopefully by the end of this meeting we’ll have a deal and plenty more people will be able to see these beauties.”

“I’m certain we will, Mr. Bianchi.” Calia laughed with a tone that was equal parts cute and smug. “Would you mind helping me drag this thing closer to the center of the room? I’d rather you not have to see it in all its glory cooped up in this dark corner.”

The two straddled either side of the machine, lifting it up slightly off the ground and moving it a few feet down and to the left. It was actually much lighter than it looked, given its size, but her slight size meant he was still doing the majority of the work.

Calia flipped her hair back behind her ear and smiled. “Thank you, Mr. Bianchi. Now, how about you pull up a chair right here,” She pointed to the floor in front of the machine where the player would normally sit. “And I can give you a little demonstration of why my machine here is going to revolutionize the gambling industry.”

“Oh, uh, sure. I suppose that makes sense.” Usually in business demonstrations like this he had never actually played the machine, but then he had never had a woman claim to have created a new innovation in gambling either. When was the last time that video poker or keno or whatever machines had an industry breakthrough? He hadn’t a clue. But if Calia actually did have something new and interesting, something that would actually lure people in who otherwise wouldn’t have visited a BRU property, it could be huge. Especially with those two new casinos for BRU opening in Miami-Dade, a trick up the company’s sleeve to turn those projects from great to transcendent could snag him a foothold in the industry he’d never had before.

He couldn’t help but smirk at the racing thoughts of success dancing through his mind, but stopped himself from getting too excited before the demo had even begun. The rolling office chair behind his desk was the only seat available, so he moved it in front of the machine, nodding to Calia as he sat.

“Perfect, Mr. Bianchi.” She had plugged in the machine and he saw it going through a normal boot-up sequence. “Do you have any questions for me before we begin?”

Clyde squirmed in his seat a bit. “Well, I guess I should start with the obvious one: why Keno? That’s the game my Dad used to play when he got his gambling itches back in the 70s. I suppose it’s unique in that most people don’t go to a casino to play video Keno when there’s actual table games and, well, every other kind of video machine under the sun available, but I don’t really think that’s a point in its favor.”

Calia closed her eyes and gave a sharp, knowing nod. “I thought you might ask that, Mr. Bianchi. Don’t worry, it wasn’t an arbitrary decision.” She moved to the otherside of the machine, flicking a few switches on the back as she did. “Keno’s a special game, because it provides so many different opportunities for variance, and so many different ways to be a winner. If you’re playing a table game like Blackjack or Poker, you’re either a winner or you’re not. With Roulette, even if you spread your bets out across the entire table, in the end there’s very few actual win conditions you can meet, and the more you spread your bets the less you’ll take away, making winning less meaningful. Slots will see you lose 99.9% of the time and keep you there out of sheer desperation. But with Keno, the chances to be a winner are so much higher, and they’re consistent every time. 20 out of 80. It’s statistically much more likely to get five numbers right than it is none at all. In fact, it’s most common to get five right!”

The HYPNOKENO machine finally fired up from its boot state to its main display, flashing a burst of pulsing red and gold waves surrounding 80 numbered boxes. It was a typical Keno set-up, nothing special from the looks of it. Clyde nodded along and remained silent, waiting for Calia to get to the punchline, the selling point. She hadn’t yet said anything he didn’t already know.

She continued. “The innovation of my machine has only a little to do with the actual inner workings of the machine. There’s a few tweaks, a new patent for the screen we use, sure, but it’s more than that. It’s all about the psychology of the players. What do people come to the casino to do, Mr. Bianchi?”

The sudden question caught Clyde off guard. “Oh, um… Well, they come to have an enjoyable time at our resorts and gamble for the evening.” Even he could feel how sheepish he sounded.

Calia let loose an adorable cackle. “Oh you are such a CEO, Mr. Bianchi! No, silly, they come to the casino to be a winner. You industry heads can pretend that’s not the entire point, but come on. No one is just gambling for the pure sake of the sport! They want to be a winner. And with our machines, we let them be winners. People win on my machines far more often than they do with any others. They’re programmed that way.

Gloom fell over Clyde’s expression as he saw the pride on Calia’s face and realized that was her selling point. That was the pitch. He’d gotten himself all hyped up, come into the office on short notice while exhausted out of his mind, just so a woman could tell him that she was going to let more people win. “That’s not it, right? That’s your big strategy? You let the players win more? That’s the ground-breaking innovation to the industry you dragged me here to see!?”

A look of poorly-concealed feigned surprise hit Calia as she put her hand up to her mouth. “Why, Mr. Bianchi, do you not… like my idea?” She pretended to gasp but he could see a silent chuckle behind her hand.

Clyde leaned on the armrest of the chair and slumped down as he slapped his forehead with his palm. “Miss Calia, not to overstep any talk of how the sausage is made here, but there have been studies, hundreds of studies done over the years showing the limits that people have when they’re gambling. And every machine in our casinos, and everyone else’s casinos for that matter, was made based on the algorithms that those studies produced. They’re made to make sure that players win just enough to keep them from leaving while making sure that we make as much profit as possible. Not to sound crass, but keeping people in casinos is a science and it’s long been perfected.”

Calia nodded and smiled. “Oh of course, Mr. Bianchi! But you don’t get my angle. I understand; you’re a CEO, hard-wired to think like a capitalist. You have to have that short-term memory; any loss in profit at any point is anathema to you. But I must insist that sometimes a short-term loss in profits is preferable if it gets you… let’s say, a long-term gain in loyalty. Maybe it would be easier if I gave you a demonstration? I promise, it will change your mind.” She fluttered her eyelashes and gave him a sweet look with hope in her eyes.

Rubbing his forehead, he nodded. He was tired and pissed off after having re-arranged his entire day for this, but they were both already here. Might as well let her strut her stuff. Clyde, for his part, hated gambling after watching his dad lose as many millions as he did decades ago, so he figured Calia was really only hurting herself by asking that of him. “Fine, Miss Calia. You have… let’s call it 15 minutes and then I’m going home.”

A batch of switches in the back of the machine clicked into place as Calia stepped behind to make some adjustments. “I appreciate it, Mr. Bianchi. You won’t regret it. Oh, but where are my manners? We should let you have the whole Vegas player experience.”

Calia snapped her fingers and suddenly the door opened. In the doorway was Deb, holding a tray with three bright blue frozen drinks on it. She slinked into the room as Clyde watched, wide-eyed. He couldn’t help but notice the bedroom eyes that the two women were giving each other. Calia walked over to Deb and whispered something in her ear, eliciting a giggle.

“Do you two have something you’d like to share with the class?” Clyde crossed his arms in annoyance, not enjoying being the odd one out in his own office.

“Oh, sorry sir!” Deb snapped back to attention as she smiled and looked at her boss, bouncing in place a bit. “Miss Calia asked me to get these prepared for the meeting and it was just such a fun idea that I couldn’t say no!” She reached out the tray and, against his better judgment, he grabbed one of the three round glasses of blue slush.

“You’re so very lucky to have a secretary like Deb, you know.” Calia rubbed her chin as she continued working on the back of the machine. “She’s so good at what she does, and so happy and so helpful! And, I mean, it might go without saying, but god she’s a cutie.” Calia grinned widely and pushed her shoulders up in a happy squeal before getting back to her work. “I’m so glad I met her when I did so I could get this meeting set up with you. One more moment…”

Clyde did his best to ignore Calia’s comments about his secretary and sniffed the drink. It smelled bright and of citrus. He was about as much of a drinker as he was a gambler, but at least this seemed like it would be pleasant enough to gulp down. It didn’t escape him that his secretary and potential new business partner drinking with him in his office wasn’t exactly a kosher way to spend an afternoon, but he’d certainly done less savory things in his 18 years on the job. His face scrunched a bit as he took his first sip; the first flavor on the tongue was tequila, and he hated tequila, but the sharp flavors of orange and lime dulled the awful taste enough that he was able to get it down without much trouble. And at the very least, the aftertaste was 100% fruity.

Deb was giving him a nervous look as he turned his head. “Do you like it, Mr. Bianchi? I made them myself!”

He took another sip and had to admit it was easier than the first. He forced a smile, though he couldn’t hide the annoyance in his voice particularly well. “They’re fine, Deb. I don’t see what the occasion is, though. I’m sure you meant well with this.” He turned to Calia, his look souring. “And if you think a margarita is going to save your presentation, you’re sadly mistaken. Get to the demonstration already.”

Calia stepped back in front of the machine again with a smug grin. “My goodness, you’re all business all of a sudden, aren’t you?” Her hand went in front of her mouth, stifling a laugh. “I suppose I can appreciate that. First, how about a toast to our success?” She grabbed the second margarita from the tray as Deb took the third. The tray bounced to the ground as the two of them touched their glasses together, both giving Clyde a knowing gaze indicating he should join in.

All he could do was sigh as he rolled his eyes and reached out to clink his glass against theirs. The two of them downed half their drink each as Clyde took a cautious third sip of his. “You know that a toast isn’t a legally binding contract, right Miss Calia?”

“Don’t worry your silly little head, Mr. Bianchi. Once we’re done here I promise you won’t feel your time was wasted.” Calia moved in front of him and slipped a $20 bill into the slot, kicking the machine into action. A burst of horns came from the machine and a robotic voice that sounded similar to Calia’s powered through the speakers on the side to introduce the game.

“Welcome to HYPNOKENO! Choose your twenty numbers and find out if you’re a winner!”

Clyde had never actually played Keno before, but he knew the broad strokes. He focused on the screen as he selected his 20 choices, more or less at random. 2… 5… 7… 11… 14… 17… 22… 24… 26… 27… 30… 33… 35… 41… 49… 50… 68… 71… 74… 78. Twenty numbers, no rhyme or reason. Easy enough. Just like an extended lottery; he had to admit that he almost understood why his father had loved the game so much, because it required way less brainpower than Texas Hold ‘Em or the like. He stared at the screen, waiting for the game to start running.

Suddenly, Clyde flinched as felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Calia standing behind him, dangling and spinning her now empty glass in her hand by the stem. “Now, Mr. Bianchi, here’s where the real fun starts. Most video Keno machines have you type in your numbers and then it instantly picks them. You go from the start of the game to the end in a matter of seconds, and that’s just no fun at all in my opinion. Where’s the rush, the dopamine, the anticipation in that? Press the golden button there. It will choose the next winning number every time you hit it, so how fast you find out your results is up to you!.” Calia walked back to Deb’s side to the left of the machine, crossed her arms, and gave him a look of anticipation.

For some reason, Clyde felt his hand trembling as he hovered over the button. He took a deep breath. “If you insist…” He pressed down and the machine roared to life.

A dizzying array of colors began to spin across the screen as the numbers from 1-80 came to life and spun around like an infinity symbol, moving around through the sides and center of the screen as the background glowed with sparkling red and gold spirals. Clyde couldn’t help but be lost in the sight as the numbers zipped around at high speed. It was so hard to keep up; his eyes eventually just settled and his vision blurred until eventually the numbers started slowing… slowing… centering…

17.

A brilliant fanfare rang from the machine as the number in the top corner ticked up from 0/20 to 1/20. The word “WINNER” began to flash on the screen in bright letters. WINNER. WINNER. WINNER. From the machine’s speakers, Calia’s voice rang: “YOU ARE A WINNER!” Clyde was taken aback. He hadn’t expected to hit on any of his numbers, let alone the first one. He couldn’t possibly be so lucky again, right? His hand quickly coasted back to the button.

The screen flashed red and gold again, as the remaining 79 numbers swirled and spiraled around the sides and center. He was more invested than he expected as he watched them slow…

68. 2/20. WINNER. WINNER. WINNER. “YOU ARE A WINNER!”

Clyde’s eyes went wide. Two winning numbers in a row… he didn’t believe it. It felt nice. How many more would he win? He had to find out. His hand slammed on the button again and he watched in fascination as the numbers swirled around…

2. 3/20. WINNER. WINNER. WINNER. “YOU ARE A WINNER!”

He was… Yes. He was a winner. He had to hit it again.

71. 4/20. WINNER. WINNER. WINNER. “YOU ARE A WINNER!”

Again.

78. 5/20. WINNER. WINNER. WINNER. “YOU ARE A WINNER!”

He had almost beat the odds already. 5/20 was statistically the most common result. Miss Calia had told him that. And he was already there. Five in five. He was nearly guaranteed to be a winner, a real winner, all he needed was one more number and he’d be on his way there…

33. 6/20. WINNER. WINNER. WINNER. “YOU ARE A WINNER!”

A huge smile overtook Clyde’s face as the red and gold swirls reflected in his eyes. He was a winner. He’d beaten the odds. It felt so good to be a winner. He squirmed uncomfortably in the seat as he realized just how hot he was feeling. His half-full margarita glass clattered to the carpet. He pulled off his suit jacket and threw it away. He didn’t need it. He was a winner. That was what was important. His hand was planted on the button now.

11. 7/20. WINNER. WINNER. WINNER. “YOU ARE A WINNER!”

35. 8/20. WINNER. WINNER. WINNER. “YOU ARE A WINNER!”

27. 9/20. WINNER. WINNER. WINNER. “YOU ARE A WINNER!”

He was a winner. It was so nice being a winner. He loved being a winner. He undid his tie and threw it to the ground. He was so hot. The room felt like it was boiling, and his body was sweating, but he was a winner. That was all that mattered.

22. 10/20. WINNER. WINNER. WINNER. “YOU ARE A WINNER!”

His breath was shallow. He loved being a winner. 10/20, that was half. He was only one number away from being over 50%; it was so unlikely. Only a winner could have that kind of luck, and he was a winner.

Suddenly, his breath caught in his throat and his heart skipped a beat as he felt a hand on his cheek. He did not resist as his head was moved directly into the line of Calia’s gaze. The room was spinning for him as he was forced to look away from the spirals of the screen. She was smiling. “Doesn’t it feel so good to be a winner, Clyde?” She moved her hand up his neck and to his chin, scraping her nails across his skin on the way.

His jaw dropped as he got a close look at her piercing blue eyes. Her voice was like sweet treacle coating his brain. His body instantly flooded with arousal as he began to shake at her touch; his cock shot to attention and began to twitch in his slacks. Almost automatically, his right hand began to fumble with his belt while his left hand couldn’t help but fondle his crotch through the fabric, lost in the sensations as he nodded his head. “Yes Miss Calia… It feels so good to be a winner…” Now undone, he threw the belt away and barely registered as it hit the wall with a loud thwack.

“Keep playing, Clyde. You’re only halfway done, after all.”

“Yes Miss Calia… only halfway done. I can be a winner…” Clyde’s hand slid back to the button and his eyes shot back to the colorful, mesmerizing screen in front of him. It filled his vision again. He was having so much fun. He understood why people loved this game now. He felt bad for ever doubting, but he hadn’t been a winner before; he couldn’t have known.

14. 11/20. WINNER. WINNER. WINNER. “YOU ARE A WINNER!”

49. 12/20. WINNER. WINNER. WINNER. “YOU ARE A WINNER!”

74. 13/20. WINNER. WINNER. WINNER. “YOU ARE A WINNER!”

Winner. He was a winner. There was nothing better than being a winner. He craved being a winner. Drool was sliding down the side of his open mouth. His desperate cock was tenting his pants, but there was little he could do about it. His right hand was glued to the button, hitting it over and over. After all, if he took it off the button, he wouldn’t know if he was a winner. All he could do was thrust his groin forward against the fabric as his left hand helplessly tried to undo the button and zipper to let himself free.

50. 14/20. WINNER. WINNER. WINNER. “YOU ARE A WINNER!”

24. 15/20. WINNER. WINNER. WINNER. “YOU ARE A WINNER!”

26. 16/20. WINNER. WINNER. WINNER. “YOU ARE A WINNER!”

This was impossible. The odds were astronomical. They had to be in the billions, the trillions maybe. His mouth was open in a wide, dopey smile as drool poured down his face. Winner. Winner. Winner. He was a winner. So good. He never wanted to be anything but a winner again. He was so happy. This was bliss. Being a winner was his destiny. He finally got his pants undone and a loud tearing sound was heard as he tried to pull them down with force, instead ripping them open at the zipper. He didn’t care. He let the loose fabric fall to the side as he pulled his black boxer-briefs over his balls and snatched his throbbing cock, soaking his hand in precum as he thrust into his fist. His already wide smile stretched and a gargle of joy escaped from his throat. His other hand was slamming the button over and over, far faster than the machine could even register.

41. 17/20. WINNER. WINNER. WINNER. “YOU ARE A WINNER!”

5. 18/20. WINNER. WINNER. WINNER. “YOU ARE A WINNER!”

18/20? The Jackpot. The Jackpot was close. The Jackpot. Nirvana. Heaven. The ultimate winner. Could it be? Could he be a winner? Could he win the Jackpot?! Clyde took his hand and squeezed his balls, moaning in pleasure as his eyes glazed over and his cock trembled. It felt so fucking good to be a winner. So close… he was so close… Two more presses. Two more…

30. 19/20. WINNER. WINNER. WINNER. “YOU ARE A WINNER!”

So close. Winner. Love. Adore. Jackpot. So close. Winner. Aroused. Jackpot. Winner. Love. Winner. One m-

Clyde was suddenly snapped back into some semblance of reality as his hand was snatched and pulled away from the button. He looked up in horror. It was Calia again, a sadistic smile on her face. She held onto his twitching right hand with a firm grip. Whatever vaguely awake part of his mind remained wanted to move his left hand to the button instead, but it was firmly grasped around his cock and it felt too good to stop. There was nothing he could do but gaze into her beautiful eyes and beg for mercy. Behind Calia he could see Deb laughing into her hand. It was so cruel. He was so close. He was so fucking close to finding out if he was a winner. The ultimate winner. If he had won the Jackpot. What did she want?!

“My dear Clyde, how do you feel right now?”

He was barely capable of speech. “Winner. Winner… I… winner… must be winner.”

Calia put her other hand to her mouth to stifle a laugh. “That’s right, sweetheart. You’ve won so much so far, haven’t you? Doesn’t it feel so good to be a winner for Mistress Calia?”

“W-winner for Calia…”

She smiled sweetly and whispered into his ear. “You would do anything to play more HYPNOKENO.”

A look of pure desperation and fear crossed Clyde’s eyes as she clutched his wrist. Would he not be allowed to find out if he was a winner if he said no? Would he never be allowed to play again?! He wouldn’t let that happen. He’d do anything. Anything at all. “Anything… anything…”

“You would pay any amount to play more HYPNOKENO.”

Yes. Any amount. Being a winner for Calia was more important than money, more important than his life even. “Anything… any amount… A-anything…”

Calia’s voice took a dark tone suddenly as she continued to whisper into his ear. “Keep jerking your cock and ruminating, Clyde. Mistress Calia commands it. Only winners are allowed to cum.”

Clyde’s head nodded up and down as his mind flooded with swirling reflections of fear and despair. He wasn’t a winner yet, the only thing he ever wanted. “O-only winners… cum…”

“Very good.” Calia looked up from the mindless man in front of her. “My sweet Deb, if you would please?” She lifted her head and smiled as the brainwashed secretary walked up to her, nuzzling into her neck with love in her eyes.

“Yes, Mistress? What can I do for you?”

“You did so very well today, you know that, love? You’ll always be a winner for me.” Calia planted a kiss on Deb’s cheek. “Grab the paperwork, I think it’s time.”

Deb’s eyes lit up with excitement as she clapped her hands together. “Of course, Mistress!”

Clyde was completely unaware of his surroundings. His mind was a fog of despair, racing through ruminations of terror and doubt. He was being stopped from being a winner. And there was no choice in the matter. His hand was still clutched in Mistress Calia’s. He was stroking himself endlessly to no avail. He would never cum. After all, only winners got to cum. And only Mistress Calia could determine if he was a winner.

Deb returned to Calia’s side, holding a stack of papers. Smiling, Calia placed them and a blue ballpoint pen on the front of the machine, blocking the button from Clyde’s view. In his blurry peripheral vision, he could see Deb wrapping herself around her Mistress in a tight embrace. Calia turned her head. “My dearest Clyde, do you want to know if you’re a winner?”

There was no feeling in Clyde’s body. His mind and soul were flooded with desperation. Every fiber of his being needed to be a winner. He needed to know. He would do anything. He finally lost full control of his sensibilities and began to loudly plead. “Yes! Yes! Please, Mistress Calia!”

Calia shook her head slightly as she closed her eyes with joy. “Such a good boy. Some things are going to change around here, Clyde. A bit of corporate restructuring, you might call it. And you’ll agree to my changes, won’t you? That will make you a winner.”

It would make him a winner. There was no question. “Anything, Mistress Calia!”

She laughed and patted him on the head with her free hand. “That’s a good little winner! There’s a few contracts in front of you, Clyde. You will sign them all right now. You will not read them. Winners don’t read. They do as they’re told.” She let go of Clyde’s right hand.

“Winners don’t read, yes… yes Mistress!” Clyde snatched the pen from the table and rushed through every contract, scribbling sloppy Xs onto every signature line with his shaky left hand and sliding them off one by one onto the floor as his newly freed right hand stroked his hard cock. He thrust aimlessly into the air ahead of him with every contract he signed. He was on fire. It felt good to be a winner. His cock was hard because he was a winner. Signing the contracts made him a winner. A winner would never question his Mistress.

As the final contract fell to the floor and Clyde’s eyes bulged in desperation, Calia began to laugh as she leaned in and kissed Deb on the lips. “Welcome, legally and officially now, to your new role as my darling Vice President of Calia Resorts USA, darling.”

Deb smiled ear to ear as tears filled her eyes. “Oh thank you Mistress, you’re so good to me… and you’re such a genius.” The two embraced in a deep kiss as Clyde finally lost his nerve and hit the button one final time, his glazed eyes wide with anticipation. For one final time, the remaining numbers spun and slowed.

7. 20/20. JACKPOT. JACKPOT. JACKPOT. “YOU ARE THE ULTIMATE WINNER!”

Every nerve in Clyde’s body lit aflame. He had won the Jackpot. He was the ultimate winner. His sense of self evaporated as his mind whited out and his cock exploded, cumming all over the machine. Moments later, the world went dark.

It had been half a year since the acquisition of Bianchi Resorts USA by The Amazing Calia, the new headliner at the ASPECT Luxury Resort & Casino, who had taken the world by storm and achieved quick celebrity status with her incredible magic and hypnosis show. The Miami deal had been an enormous success, as had their rollout of their new “HYPNOVideo” gambling series. CRU had acquired six new Casinos across the country in a matter of a few months, and more looked to be on the way.

In the basement of his former house, the house slave answered emails for his Mistresses.

Dear Mr. Hornbuckle,

We are disappointed to hear that through our email chain we have failed to convince you of the obvious efficacy of a plan to sell the Bellagio along with the entire Ohio stake in your company’s portfolio to us. Our CEO will be video calling you tomorrow to negotiate the details at 3:00 pm. We trust that you will make the right decision once you’ve gotten to know her.

Clyde R. Bianchi

Corporate Assistant

Calia Resorts USA

As he wrote the final words and hit send, he smiled. He could hear Mistresses Calia and Deb upstairs, hosting a cocktail party with their friends. He felt no jealousy, nor did he want to join. Rather, he turned to the clock and smiled. Almost noon. It was almost his time with the HYPNOKENO machine. Cocktail parties were for the bosses, the executives, the high rollers. He wasn’t any of those things.

He was a winner.