Into the Lion’s Den

“Calm down, baby,” Sally said. “You want to look a little nervous—not predatory. It’s going to go fine.” I opened my mouth and all of the things that could go wrong started to spill out. She stopped my pessimistic babbling by putting her finger on my lips. “You’re smart. You’ll figure it out,” she assured me. “Besides, if nothing else, you can WARP him. Allison is going to get your kit past the security screen, no matter what it looks like on the X-ray, and he’s going to be distracted by Cindy. He won’t even notice that she looks just like Allison’s roommate who works in porno—if he’s even seen her.” She pecked me on the cheek. “For luck.” She turned to the bedroom and called, “Li! It’s time to go!” Cindy walked into the living room without any trace of her femme fatale self. She wore a conservative blue blazer with a moderate-length charcoal skirt, looking very professional. Between the blazer and her top, her tits were featureless and they didn’t look as big as they were. Once in the car, Cindy started babbling nervously like someone who had been stuck in the archives of a large company and who didn’t get much human contact, professional or otherwise. Satisfied that her programming was correct, I headed to the office complex that was serving as Eskin’s headquarters. We would be in the lion’s den in less than half an hour. The result of so many years of my life’s work would be revealed in the next few hours. Any fear of failure was tempered by the excitement and anticipation of the final game itself, and so I did not dawdle on the way to my appointment with fate.

When we arrived, the parking lot was virtually empty except for a couple of news trucks and a few scattered cars. Other than a lazily aimed camera from one news crew, Cindy and I drew no attention, and as we walked inside, I was struck by the silence and lack of activity in the building’s lobby. There wasn’t much of anything going on here, and the security guards looked as bored as the news crews outside, at least until they figured out that we weren’t turning around and leaving right away. Two of the men quickly approached us saying, “We’re sorry, but this building is reserved for Eskin Holdings personnel only. There are no job interviews, no television int—”

“It’s all right.” Allison’s voice echoed in the room. “Mr. Eskin is expecting them.” She strode confidently through the exit gate and gave me a smooch on the lips. “I’m so happy to see you, sweetie! Are you ready for our big day?” I nodded nervously—it wasn’t an act, because one of the security guards continued to eye me suspiciously. Allison turned to lead us to Charles Eskin, but that security guard stopped us.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Claymont,” he said, “but we have to check everybody who comes to see Mr. Eskin. Please put your bags on the belt.”

If they did not buy the cover story about the light, we were sunk. Cindy and I went through the metal detector without pause, but several of the guards were trying to figure out what the light was from its X-ray. There were lots of fine wires leading from the power source to the light emitters. “What’s the delay?” asked Allison with an air of authoritative impatience. One of the guards opined that it could be a bomb, and suddenly, I was restrained at gunpoint. Bored security guards are the worst kind because they always feel that they have to justify their presence, so anything becomes a major threat that could lead to cataclysmic catastrophe.

“What is that?” came the stern demand, and in response, the pistol in my face made a distinct clicking sound.

That,” interrupted Allison with annoyance, “is a state-of-the-art biometric scanning and security device. It belongs to the Alton Companies, and it will allow access to the laptop—you do recognize the laptop that just went through X-ray, correct? That laptop has important documents that Mr. Eskin is expecting, and by now, I’m sure he’s wondering just where the hell they are.” The security guard seemed unintimidated until Allison snarled, “You can go ahead and break it to make sure that it’s not a bomb, and then what’s on that laptop are locked there until we manage to get another security device.” She scowled at him, and pitch rising, proceeded to berate the guard who had assumed charge of the situation. “Do you want to be the one to tell Mr. Eskin that his documents are irretrievable because you wouldn’t listen to me, and used your Neanderthal brain to come to the conclusion that it was a bomb and so you broke the only key we have access to?” Uncertainty flashed across the guard’s face.

Obviously, Eskin had already granted Allison some significant level of authority, and there was nothing polite or gentle about the way she was using it. She angrily dialed her cell phone while muttering, “I doubt that he’ll be happy over one of his invited business consultants being held at gunpoint,” loud enough for everybody to hear. The gun in my face wavered, and the guard who had been suspicious of me looked increasingly nervous and uncertain by the second. “Hi Charlie, it’s Allison,” she curtly said, sounding annoyed. “No, no, they’re here. Just a little delay at security; they seem to think that the biometric scanner is a bomb of some type, and right now one of your guests has a gun pointed in his face.” After a few seconds, she handed the phone to the guard, who blanched, and then said, “Yes, sir. Right away, sir.” He returned the phone to Allison, looking ill. “OK,” she resumed. “Yes, I know. No, I’m sure that I can handle it. See you in three.” She ended the call and glared at the guy who had assumed charge of the situation.

Apologetically, he began, “Ms. Claymont, we didn’t know if—”

“You’re fired,” Allison coldly interrupted, not waiting for the explanation. “When I give an order, I expect it to be followed.” She looked around the lobby and her eyes came to rest on the man who said he thought it could be a bomb. “You too. Leave. Now. Just because you’re bored doesn’t mean you invent a crisis.” Without missing a beat, she turned to the guard who still had his gun trained on me, but it was wavering a lot more now. “And you, Mr. ‘Make my day’, for god’s sake, put your gun away before my geeky friend here has a heart attack or you cause a messy accident.” He immediately complied, the frightened look on his face giving way to relief that he hadn’t lost his job like his former co-workers.

The drama over, Allison lead Cindy and I to the top floor, pausing outside the elevator. She excused herself to make a cell phone call as we. “Hello, B and G Security? This is Allison Claymont with Eskin Holdings. Yes, I’m fine. Well, I’m calling because I’m afraid that a few of your people assigned here aren’t quite working out as well as we expected. Wyler is the name. I was able to terminate the other two myself, so you should be hearing from them soon. Yes, replacements will be fine. Thank you.” She hung up and mumbled, “Damn peons.” I had created a self-centered, vengeful, greedy monster with a superiority complex. Allison took a breath, brightened, and cheerily asked, “Well, now that that has been taken care of, shall we go meet Charlie?” as if nothing had happened. I had to suppress a shudder of recognition: that had been me, albeit with less access to money and less power. Allison needed to be transformed back into her former sweet self as soon as possible.

“Mr. Eskin,” she formally announced as the three of us entered the suite, “I’d like to present Li Feng and my boyfriend, Samuel Russell.” I was looking for, and noticed, a brief hesitation around the word “boyfriend.” Absolutely perfect. Just long enough to let Eskin know that she’s playing me for a fool.

“Mr. Eskin, it’s really an honor to meet you, sir,” I said, excitedly shaking hands. He broke the greeting to turn his attention to Cindy, and judging by his reaction, he was definitely impressed. He greeted her with sophisticated charm in his voice, and gallantly bade her to sit, ignoring me for an instant, but only just an instant, because I had what he wanted the most.

“So, Mr. Russell,” Charles Eskin cordially began, returning his attention to me, “Allison tells me that you’ve been a great help in getting this information for me. I like that. I have a place in my company for people with initiative and drive like yours.” He paused, smiling. “I also understand that you and Ms. Feng have something of great interest and value to me. Something that could make or break this deal I’ve been working on.”

Allison cooed in affirmation and wrapped herself around me, urging, “Go on, sweetie, show him!” with a mixture of eagerness and impatience.

“OK, Mr. Eskin, I’ll show you what can make or break this deal. But it’s not just this deal, and it’s not what you’d expect.” I could sense Allison’s puzzlement. When I removed the WARPS canister from the bag and calmly placed it on his desk, she let go of me as if I had instantly turned white-hot. “What’s in this can will make you more successful than you’ve ever dreamed, with much less work, and virtually zero risk,” I confidently proclaimed, my clueless, lovesick geek façade having completely evaporated.

“What the hell—? Glass cleaner?!” Eskin exclaimed, reading the label.

“Sammy! What kind of sick joke is this?” Allison had skipped disbelief and gone straight to anger. “You stupid bastard! You’re fuckin’ ruining everything, you stupid nerd! I’m gonna kill you!” She reached for my neck.

My mole had served her purpose, and so, with a sense of relief, I reclaimed my slave. “New Allison vanish.”

Her legs immediately collapsed beneath her and she received her promised reward for her complete obedience to her master. The orgasm quickly blossomed, leaving her writhing on the floor, moaning and crying, with her hands flailing uselessly. When it subsided about two minutes later, she melted into the carpet with one final groan and lay still, her chest heaving.

Charles Eskin stood up looking at the former intern who had brought him to the brink of a business acquisitions coup and then clapped his hands four distinct times. “Bra-vo,” he dryly said. “Nice acting, Ms. Claymont.”

I clinically lifted her skirt and took off her panties without resistance, holding them up for him to see the enormous wet spot on them before I squeezed and they made a squishy sound. Eskin’s poker face wavered for an instant. “Does this look like she was acting?” I asked.

“I suppose you’re going to tell me that what’s in that spray can is what made her do that.” I nodded. “It’s a nice parlor trick, I suppose,” he finally said. “You must be one hell of a hypnotist.”

“It’s much deeper conditioning than simple hypnosis,” I responded. “The Allison Claymont you know was a mole. She was a way for me to get to you so I can make this sales pitch.”

Eskin sat behind his desk, still looking unimpressed. “So, she’ll do anything you tell her to? If you told her to jump out the window, she would. No faking, no—making her think she’s doing something normal.”

“I figured you’d ask me something like that, and while the answer is yes, I could, I won’t because I’m quite fond of her. And Cindy as well—by the way, that’s her real name.” Eskin looked at Cindy, who hadn’t moved, apparently unaffected by anything that had happened in the office since she had accepted Eskin’s invitation to sit. “Yes, she’s been treated, too,” I resumed, sounding casual. “But she’s been turned into a sex object, and she’s quite skilled at it. Would you like to give her a whirl? Anything sexual, although I warn you in advance that she’s not good at deep throat. When she tries, it causes more choking than anything else, but she—compensates—quite nicely for that in her own way, and so she gives great head nonetheless.”

Eskin regarded me carefully. I noted that he was tempted by the Cindy offer, as he’d glance at her periodically without moving his head. I figured that he was trying to determine if the offer was legit, what strings were attached, and if my casual air was genuine. Finally, he put his hands together and said, “OK, show me.”

“Fucktoy,” I said, the word re-activating Cindy’s perceptions of the world around her, “give Mr. Eskin a blowjob until he’s hard, and then convince him that he wants to fuck you bent over the desk.”

“Yes, master,” she cooed, standing up. The sensuality with which she moved was evident even through her professional attire. Cindy sidled next to Eskin, smiled sultrily, and then, as she gracefully knelt, she simultaneously unzipped his pants.

He tried to show no emotion at all, but his eyes bulged briefly—he was impressed by Cindy’s practiced ease at revealing his cock. Any effort at remaining impassive crumbled when she gave him a look of pure desire from her knees. Eskin exhaled, “Wow!” as she slurped his dick into her mouth without using her hands. Inside of a minute, he was leaned all the way back in his chair with his underwear around his ankles, gasping and grunting in pleasure while Cindy enthusiastically coaxed his cock to full erection.

I heard, rather than watched, my fucktoy start to encourage Eskin with panted sexual solicitations, since I had decided that now was a good time to return Allison to compliant consciousness. “Slave Allison must obey her master, sir,” I said, using her new keyword.

It took an obvious effort, but she lifted her head, and with her eyelids fluttering closed, managed a sleepy smile before breathing an almost inaudible, “Yes, master.”

I had barely finished with Allison’s newest commands when Eskin summoned me with a half-shouted, “Yo, evil genius!” I stood up to find him standing stock still behind Cindy, who was bent over his desk. I could tell that he was inside her because she was quivering and was whimpering in frustration. “Got two questions for you,” he said. “Where do you want me to cum, and will this chick do anal?”

“She’ll do anything I tell her to,” I answered with ennui.

He stepped backwards, pulling his shrinking cock out of Cindy, who moaned in protest. I lifted her chin, looked into her eyes, and said, “Just a moment, fucktoy,” triggering the briefest of orgasmic pulses through her body, and she relaxed onto the desk.

Eskin had lost his poker face, and was now openly regarding me with a mixture of curiosity and awe. “So can I fuck her in the ass and then have her suck me off?” he asked, sounding excited, and his dick twitched.

So that’s your kink. Sorry, I take care of my slaves. “No. They’re my toys, not yours, and enteric infections are nasty.” I paused for effect. “However, what you do with any slaves you create is your business.”

“But she would do it without question if you told her to.” I nodded. Eskin’s expression changed to one of evaluation. “Have you ever made her do something—bad—for her, just because you like it?”

“Yes,” I said, without remorse. You were wondering if I had morals?

“What? Tell me,” he demanded. When I asked why it was so important to him that he know, he replied, “I just want to make sure you weren’t some sort of saint. What’s the purpose of having perfectly obedient slaves if you can’t make them do things they wouldn’t normally do? I wouldn’t trust a guy who wouldn’t abuse that much power, even if just a little.” I told him about converting Cindy into my femme fatale, and how she’d subsequently trained Allison in a similar fashion. That seemed to assuage whatever qualms he had. “So just how many slaves do you have?”

“Just these two,” I shrugged. He didn’t need to know about Joe, and Sally—wasn’t just a slave anymore.

“Only two? That’s unbelievable!” he snorted. “I’d have a few actresses, some rich heiresses, and a few random babes off the street if I had that kind of power! And you only have two slaves?”

“Yeah… well, there is only so much of the agent,” I said. “I needed to make sure I had enough left to make it worth someone’s while so I could get some money out of it.” He told me that I could have just enslaved a rich heiress. “And just how would I have been able to meet an heiress so that I could dose her in private?”

“Well, maybe you’ve got a point there,” Eskin reluctantly admitted. His eyes came to rest on the entranced Allison. “Could I maybe fuck Allison in the ass? I’ve wanted that ever since I saw it in the flesh.” I gave the command, and after some oral assistance from Cindy, Charles Eskin got his greatest immediate desire. Allison’s programmed sensitivity to anal sex made sure that she had another major orgasm, and her orgasm precipitated Eskin’s own. He pulled out, and with a quiet growl, shot his cum all over Cindy’s pretty face. She giggled and played with the slimy trails. Eskin wiped his dick off, hitched his pants up, and looked at me with satisfaction. “I’ll admit, that was fun,” he offered. “But you have to know that there’s no shortage of women who want to sleep with me, and I’ve gotten more than a few to willingly give me what I want.” He sat back down in his executive chair, looking sated and complacent.

Now the negotiation begins. “You’re wondering why you should pay money for something you already have,” I said, anticipating his thought process. Time to make the sales pitch. “The sex was just a primal demonstration,” I shrugged. “The possibilities of deep-seated conditioning go way beyond getting laid whenever and however you want. For example, I completely overwrote Allison’s personality a month ago. She really isn’t a money- and power-hungry bitch. In fact, at heart, she’s not even a Dean’s List high achiever-type.” I could see that something about that piqued Eskin’s interest, so I continued, “When I met her, she was a poor little rich girl who would have sex with strangers in adult bookstores for kicks, and she only attended school when she was in the mood, which wasn’t often. Her folks were paying for it, but they have more than enough money to take care of her now and into the future, so… she had no motivation.” I pointed to Allison, who was slowly recovering from her second strong orgasm within less than two hours. “I gave her some drive so that I could have someone who I implicitly trusted to manage my money.”

Eskin nodded slowly, as if in deep reflection, and a small smile came to his lips. “I like that. Planning ahead.” After a pause, he resumed, “Allison’s transcript did seem strange with all of those D’s and F’s and then all of a sudden—boom! Dean’s List, top of her class, near-perfect grades. Once I met her, though, it didn’t take me long to figure out that she was smart, ambitious, hot, and ready to fuck—and man, was she good at it! Plus, she had the goods on Alton. So I never got around to asking her about it.” He regarded me strangely for a minute, as if he wanted to ask me a question to which he wasn’t sure that he wanted to know the answer. I waited impassively, and his curiosity got the better of him. “Did you make her—smarter?”

“No, I don’t think it’s possible to change things like that,” I quickly replied. “Although it would be possible to suggest someone into being unable to use their native intelligence. If brainless bimbos are your thing.” Another flicker behind his eyes said that it was. “You don’t necessarily have to change everything about a person. For example, Allison is extremely sexual, and since that suited me, I left it alone,” I resumed. I thought for a moment. “I have changed one thing: both she and Cindy love anal sex and can cum from it, even without clitoral stimulation. Basically, the formula has allowed me to override the way that their brains interpret the impulses from the nerves around the anus.”

“But that’s still sexual. I can fuck any number of women in the ass,” Eskin retorted. “For dinner, drinks, and a show. Or a weekend in an exotic locale.” His poker face had returned, and he was trying to drive the price down by showing just how unnecessary my product was to him and his life.

Yeah, but you’re probably starting to think about the non-sexual stuff you can do with it by now. “I was just using that as an example of the degree to which you can change things,” I rebutted. “With this spray, you can change the very way that the human brain works. Verbally. In a matter of hours. You can change the way somebody thinks.” I saw the light begin to dawn in Eskin’s eyes in spite of his efforts to act unimpressed. He leaned forward. “Imagine… this negotiation with Alton… One five-or-ten-second spray, and he would have accepted your first offer.” Recognition flitted across Eskin’s face, betraying his thoughts, and confirmed my hunch about what was going through his mind. “Although, to keep it from seeming too fortuitous and to keep people from asking too many questions, I probably would have made a second, reasonable, offer, one that was a little low, but still to my advantage.” See, I can think like you do.

He was nodding pensively. “Yeah, you’re probably right about making two offers. Don’t want to raise too many suspicious questions.” Charles Eskin stood up and slowly walked to the front of the desk. “I could engineer some of the biggest and best coups in history! Find a target, bid, then bid low a second, third time and have it accepted. Man, could I add to my holdings!”

I chimed in with, “With absolutely zero risk. You’d double your fortune within a year.”

His head bobbed in agreement, obviously excited at the prospect of realizing that scenario. “So what exactly am I getting here for whatever fee you’re requesting? Let’s talk turkey—ummm—what should I call you? I gather that Samuel Russell is an alibi?”

I nodded, “Sam will do. Money is by wire transfer, so all you’ll need is an account number.” Eskin accepted that. “You would be getting that canister and the activating device. There’s probably enough left for six, maybe seven deals,” I said. “I figure that you would, conservatively, stand to make several billion from these deals in the middle-to-long-term. All I’m asking for is a flat fee of thirty-seven million dollars.”

“Hefty amount, but you could make more with percentage of my overall profit from the use of this stuff,” he noted. Yeah, but I don’t trust you to keep your end of the verbal bargain. This isn’t exactly the type of thing you’d put in writing, is it? “Do I get the formula, too?” I shook my head and pointed at it, telling him that it was locked away where nobody could get at it. “You realize, of course, that I can take over a biotech company and put them to work on reverse-engineering the formula.”

“What would be the advantage in mass producing this?” I countered. “If everybody sprays everybody, a bunch of zombies with no one to control them isn’t a terribly attractive scenario. The formula took many years to develop, and some of the ingredients have become very difficult, if not impossible to obtain. I was fortunate enough to buy them before that happened. “But there’s more than enough left to make you a multi-billionaire, and I have everything I want except money. A small amount of your money for me, enormous profit for you—it’s a win-win situation.”

“You invent a formula that could allow you to rule the world, and all you want are two attractive female slaves, and a relatively small amount of money?” He laughed derisively. “Not terribly visionary. Still, I am one of the few men who could afford to pay you what you want—if the product does everything you say it does. You said there was an activating device. Do you have it here? Can I see it?”

“Yes, but…” I hesitated. “Well, I haven’t found out what the half-life of this is. If I activate it around them, then both Allison and Cindy will go into their extremely suggestible state. I did Cindy last night, so I know that the agent is still active in her brain. And if it’s working in her brain, it should be working in Allison’s.”

“Really? How long ago were they—changed?” asked Eskin. I told him that Cindy’s treatment had lasted almost eighteen months, and that Allison was getting close to a year. He leaned forward, very interested now. “So they’ll be completely suggestible when you turn the thing on?” I said yes, and he sat back in his chair, lacing his fingers together. “Samuel, I will accept that as proof. Let me command them to do something—and I promise that I won’t hurt them.”

There was no mistaking the eagerness in his voice. Now we’re getting there. He sees the prize, but have I placed enough obstacles in his way for him to get impatient and overconfident? He hasn’t asked the key question yet. “Well… OK,” I said with as much reluctance as I could muster. “I’m not quite sure I trust you, but I guess if that’s the proof you need to buy the spray, I’ll let you do it.” I removed the WARPing light from the bag, and it started flashing in the slow, rhythmic pulse that put the enzymes to work.

“What does the light do? Why do you need it?” whispered Eskin. I explained that the light flashed very specific light frequencies, in a very specific pattern. “How do you know it’s working?”

“Watch them,” I blithely answered. “As soon as they seem to be frozen with total attention on the light, then they’re probably ready. There’s nothing dramatic about the effect.” After about thirty more seconds, he tapped me on the shoulder and mouthed, “Are they ready?” I nodded.

“Can you hear me?” he tentatively asked. The girls responded with a flat, “Yes,” slightly out-of-sync. “Then I want you to… TACKLE THE OTHER GUY AND HOLD HIM DOWN!” Allison and Cindy grabbed me as commanded, and I put up token resistance before letting them drag me down. They were under Eskin’s control and not responsible for their actions. I didn’t want to hurt them, and I didn’t know what having conflicting suggestions under WARP would do to them, so I played along. “Let’s just see how much control I have over them,” he smirked. “Allison, kick him in the nuts.”

I rolled so that Cindy, poor dear, took the hit. She wasn’t strong enough to hold me down. “Not bad. It seems to work.” Eskin said, and then he kicked me in the ribs. “You stupid fucker,” he sneered. “You don’t think I got to where I am by being fair, did you? Thirty-seven million dollars? Oh, please. You’re lucky I don’t have you arrested and put away for trying to assault me. But that wouldn’t get me everything I want, so here’s the new deal, Sam. I take the spray, I take the light, I take the babes, and you are gonna tell me how I can make more of this stuff.” My eyes were shooting daggers at him, and he shrugged, “Well, I can’t very well have a real harem if I’ve only got seven sprays.” He walked around me, found an opening, and kicked me again. “Who’s gonna help you? My security guards?” He continued to walk around me as I tried to brace myself. Stopping at my head, he regarded me disdainfully and clucked, “Only two slaves? That’s even small-minded for a little person like you.” Eskin shook his head in mock pity. “Brilliant, but no ambition. That’s a horrible combination.”

“I’m not going to tell you the formula!” I defiantly declared.

“Oh, yes you are.” Eskin picked up the canister. You’re going to write it down all nice and neat for me, and then you’re going to be the dumbest fucker on the face of the planet, with a permanent case of amnesia. If I can really alter the way the brain works like you said. If not… I’ll just have to get rid of you and your playmates.” He shrugged. “Say hello to your new life,” as he pointed the WARPS at me and sprayed it in my face for about 15 seconds. My eyes burned and watered, but I was otherwise unaffected. I looked at the light and feigned going under after a few minutes, stalling him as best I could. Besides, it would be fun to see the expression on his face when he figured out that I was just faking—if he could have an expression by then. “Now, tell me the ingredients in this spray,” Eskin confidently demanded.

“Yes… master,” I droned. “Ethyinyl Methyl trioxide… Carbocarbonic acid… 2,4,6,8 quad nitro toluene…” He wasn’t a chemist, so I made up names.

“No, wait—wait,” he grumbled, irritated. He shoved a pen and pad of paper in front of me. “Write the formula down in detail,” he commanded.

I paused for a few seconds, and then I gaily said, “No.” Eskin’s shock allowed me to take care of his help. “Allison, Cindy, you will only hear my voice until you see your personal tokens.”

“What do you mean, ‘no’?” he sputtered. “Is this all a joke? How did you manage—the girls—are they really—?”

“Charlie,” I calmly said, smiling, “I’m positive the spray works.” I reached over and placed the light in front of him. “Did you ever bother to think why I wasn’t affected when I used it on Allison and Cindy?”

“No… I thought you just sprayed it away from yourself, so it only hit them,” he said. “Doesn’t it work like that?

“No, Charlie. It’s an aerosol,” I condescendingly snipped. “It disperses in air. The air currents in the room determine where it goes, not where you spray it.” He looked at me, still puzzled. “You were so intent on how much money you could make with it, and on how many rich, famous, and beautiful women you could command into being your sex slaves that you thought the details could be worked out later, just like any business deal. Science isn’t quite like that. Many of the details need to be worked out a lot earlier.” Eskin was losing focus on me, glancing more often at the light. “Before I created the formula, I had to create something that prevented the enzyme in the spray from working on the neurotransmitter.”

Slowly, and with effort, he turned his head away from the light. His mouth opened in a comical slow motion, and he managed to say, “Wha-a-a-t… does… that mean?”

“In laymen’s terms, it means that I gave myself an antidote before I ever used the spray on anybody else. Whatever the light does to the formula, doesn’t happen in my brain.”

“I… want… that…” Eskin said. “Pay… you… Fifty million.”

“I kinda held back that information. It’s a standard negotiating tactic, you know,” I sneered. “I originally thought you might determine that the antidote was worth the money I was asking for, and I waited, but you never asked.” I smiled evilly. “And since you tried to steal everything from me, I think it’s time for you to look at the light now, Charlie.” His head turned slowly, indicating the reluctance he felt. He was fighting the effect, but it would be futile. “I figure you’ve breathed about enough WARPS by now to get to the minimum effective dose. Look very carefully at the light, Charlie. You will do everything I tell you to, right?”

“N-n-n-no.” His voice sounded faraway and strained. Not quite enough mutated neurotransmitter yet, I mused. “You—can’t—get away—with this.” He was making an effort to move.

“Charlie, sit down and shut up. Just keep looking at the light.” Judging by the way that he complied, it wasn’t going to take much longer to have him ready to WARP. “Charles Eskin, tell me how much of a dividend you will pay yourself at the end of the next quarter?”

“About thirty-eight million dollars. More if the Alton deal goes through,” he candidly answered. Bingo! I told him where he was going to send that dividend, and how he was going to justify sending it there instead of to one of his personal accounts. Then I sent a text message to Sally, letting her know that the plan had worked—other than my bruised ribs, which were starting to hurt. “Mr. Eskin, soon your phone will ring. You will answer it, and if a young lady indentifies herself as Roberta de Mauvaise, you will pay very close attention to what she has to say. As she speaks, you will have the same ideas as she speaks them, and you will become determined to act on those ideas. They are good ideas; after all, you had them. Tell me you understand, and repeat what I have told you to me.”

“Yes, I understand,” said Eskin, and as he repeated his instructions perfectly, I forgot about my aching ribs, and happily began to dream about what I would be doing in six months.


“Veronica,” purred Sally, “you love your master’s cum. It is one of your favorite flavors, and it is so exquisite that you will have a small, but powerful orgasm each time you have made him cum in your mouth and you have swallowed it.”

“Yes… mistress,” the entranced brown-haired girl replied.

“Happy Birthday again, darling!” Sally said, leaning over to kiss me. I groaned as the petite girl began her second attempt in as many days at giving me head and swallowing my cum. Veronica hated the idea of cum on her face, and she absolutely detested the taste, which I found surprising because she had been an aspiring porno actress. She had explained that it wasn’t the liability one might expect for such a career, and that there were ways around it. Nonetheless, such an attitude about my cum was unacceptable for a member of my harem. Sally had performed the adjustment in front of me just to excite me. That, in turn, gave us an immediate chance to see how well Veronica’s new mindset worked, or if she needed additional WARPing.

I hadn’t asked for a third slave, and frankly, I hadn’t even thought of getting one, because between Cindy and the currently-absent, but always sexually dynamic Allison, I was quite content. Veronica was a birthday gift from Sally. She and Joe had managed to WARP another of his actresses, a fresh-faced, cute, nineteen-year-old who had been trying to get into the porno business. Sally had sent Cindy to Joe for a week of fun and games so she and I could be alone. Unbeknownst to me, she also sent a proposal that he select one of his girls, one who he thought would be my ‘type.’ Given one of his favorite incentives, he and Sally had quickly picked a suitable girl, while Sally figured out a way to WARP someone and give the necessary commands to take advantage of the WARPed state without her having to be in the room, so that she would not go under as well.

Considering that Joe’s exact memories from his time as my slave were—extremely spotty, at best, he remembered us fondly enough. As soon as I had received Eskin’s money, I had given Joe a token sum of two hundred fifty thousand dollars for his troubles, while Sally had wrangled him a job working in the PR department of the Eskin-Alton Foundation for the Future of Business as assistant head of videography. I also released Joe from my service, even if the term “release” is more of a self-promise than anything else when it comes to WARPS—he’s still WARPable with the light. However, I hadn’t seen him in almost four months, and with me and my girls mostly in Europe these days, I have no temptation whatsoever to do that. Besides, he’s got a pretty decent thing going. The last time we saw each other, I was a little surprised at how happy he was to be legit. Joe kept the web site going because it was still making money, but he had not shot any new material or updated it since he got his real job. In fact, he had been happy to sign the paperwork that handed the reins of the company to me as he bowed out of our partnership without being coerced at all.

I groaned as Veronica’s oral efforts cut short my musing. “Tomorrow she starts her smoking lessons with Cindy,” my wife purred, giving me a deep kiss as she smiled her special smile. Sally and I had gotten married on a Caribbean Beach three months prior, with Joe, Allison, and Cindy as our witnesses. Deviously smart, sexy, and fun, she was more than ever the leader of my pack. “Oh, Cindy dearest, come give your mistress some special attention,” Sally cooed, giving me a depraved smile as she spread her legs for our fucktoy.

Allison was in the United States, back in school for her senior year and going for the Dean’s List again. She wasn’t very happy about not being in the south of France with us, but once again, she had no choice. Still, not very many 23-year-olds get invited to first-class, all-expenses-paid “seminars” in Europe for Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Spring Break. And when she visits, she’ll definitely be the center of everybody’s attention.

“Uhhh—Uhhhh-uhhhh—UHHHHHH!” I grunted, filling Veronica’s mouth. Even in orgasm, I could feel the reflexive jerk she gave, although it was smaller than the first time. Judging by the distasteful expression on her face, it was clear that she needed a little more WARPing. I also didn’t know how Veronica felt about other girls, but I could fix that, too. I could take care of everything about Veronica.

As for me, well, I’m finally happy. I no longer have voices in my head urging me to take over the world. I have enough money for the rest of my life—literally, and a lifestyle that most people would envy. The light still works on all four girls and Joe, so the enzyme still seems to be going strong. I don’t use the light much anymore; at some point, it’s going to burn out, and when that happens. I don’t think I’m going to replace it. Oh, and I still have about a quarter-canister of WARPS left, maybe two or three doses worth. I don’t need it anymore, with four wonderful girls who will do anything I want them to, so maybe there’s another buyer out there.

Find the guy hanging out on the Riviera with four young, naturally beautiful, and unenhanced women. If you don’t recognize him as being famous, and he doesn’t look like the type of guy who should have four women like that so obviously devoted to him, and if one of those women is a very hot, hard-bodied girl of Asian descent who is smoking with a cigarette holder… Drop by and make me an offer. You might be surprised at how reasonable I can be.

This story copyright © 2009, 2010 The Flying Pen

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