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One Track Mind

By Orifalcon

"This event marks the third time in as many days where police presence was required to subdue the rioting. In New York City, Los Angeles, and now Miami, ordinary meetings of seemingly unrelated women's groups have erupted in very public outbursts. Perhaps even more shocking is the reported presence of mysterious, black-clad men at the scenes of these events." "Could the government be involved in these outbreaks? We can only guess, as none of the women involved have been released by local authorities, and the White House has yet to make an official comment. Since speculation is rampant, we here at Channel 6 promise to follow the story until all the facts come out."

As he watched perhaps the most important events of his life begin to unfold, Stan could only think of one thing."Wow, that reporter chicks pretty hot."

Saying that Stan Baron enjoys the ladies is like saying the South Pole is a bit chilly. In the tenth grade, he became a baseman for his high school cheerleading team in order to get closer to women's legs, he chose FSU over USC because the female to male ratio was two percent higher, and at the age of 26, he still worked at a waning second hand book store in the mall because it was across from a Victoria's Secret. He was certainly not the person you would want holding the future of the human race in his hands, but alas, fate had chosen him, even if it did mean waiting until he came back from the strip club.

The club was surprisingly nice, the women showing more than enough skin, even seeming to flirt with Stan's awkward advances. After depositing another paycheck at the first bank of flesh, Stan returned home to find his pockets empty, his lust sated, and his answering machine flashing with a single message. If he had had just one more drink that night, he might have just left it till morning, maybe even erased it without listening, but his lack of funds left him sober enough to hear the phone out.

Stan hadn't talked to his brother Daniel in 11 years. Daniel had taken a job in Washington and Stan had skipped the going away party to go with Mary Jane Hooper to a college friend's kegger. Now, out of the blue, his brother calls and wants to meet him. He tried to think what was so important that Daniel would only give him six hours notice. After this, he thought "Wow, its already 4 a.m." and went to bed.

Exactly five hours, 48 minutes, and 27 seconds later, Rita Sander's poodle knocked a vase off of the ledge of her third story apartment window. The vase fell to the street below, smashing through the windshield of a blue Mustang. The Mustang's alarm went off, blaring a shrill annoying cry through the air. Stan Baron woke up with a irritated groan and cursed his rich jerk neighbor who insisted on the stupid car alarm. Then he looked over to the clock on the nightstand. It read 9:49. He turned the number over in his head for a minute and then remembered his brothers call. Dona's cafe was only a few minutes, so he got up, through the first thing he could find, and headed out. Even though he only had ten minutes, Stan still took the three minute detour in order to pass by the women's gym down the street. As he drove passed, his jaw almost hit the ground.

In the window was a beautiful blonde jogging on a treadmill. This itself wouldn't have been too shocking, but the woman was topless. Stan didn't slam on the breaks for fear of causing an accident, and was quickly passed the gym. In his mind, he was attempting to rationalize what he had just seen. Ok, so the woman could have been topless, after all, it was a women's gym. But the woman wasn't in the locker room or sauna, she was in the window, the front window, with no shirt on. "Does that happen", he thought, "no, it doesn't. She must have been wearing something, maybe a tan tank top, a sheer tan tank top. Yeah, that's it."

When he arrived at Dona's, Stan caught sight of his brother at a corner table. Daniel looked like he hadn't slept or shaven in weeks. Stan had never seen his brother like that, he had always been the proverbial straight arrow. He had gone to MIT on a presidential scholarship and had jetted off to DC for a special project half way through college. He called out to his brother, and was hushed and told to sit down.

"Hey man, you look like crap," Stan said with an air of resentment, after all, he had gotten up pretty early for this.

"Well little brother, I'd like to say its good to see you, but under the circumstances, I think I should get right to the point. Do you know what I do for a living."

"No."

"That's because you're not supposed to. I've worked for the government for 8 years, on a project called the Kneely Proposal."

"Gee, that's great Dan."

"I didn't think that would catch your attention very well. So how about this, the idea behind the Kneely Proposal is to make women completely open to sex."

"Wow, and hear I thought Bush was a hack."

"It's true Stan, the Kneely Proposal deals with highly powerful, highly refined subliminal messages introduced through a satellite system encompassing the entire world."

"Daniel, you're telling me the feds hired you to create a big computer thing that makes women easy."

"Listen to me Stanley," the tone in his voice was reaching a feverish pitch, and combined with the use of Stan's full name, he finally cut through his brother's sarcastic wall, "first of all, its not just me, there were several people on this project, some of the best minds in the nation. Second, no, the point of the project wasn't to help guys like you get some tail, it's a diplomacy thing. It was supposed to promote peace in unstable nations."

"And its instead making women into sluts."

"Think about Stan, you of all people should get it. When you assemble 75 male scientists and have them work with technology that can alter the world, one of them is invariably going to give into the sexual temptation."

"So he programmed your machine to create bimbos."

"Not bimbos, just completely uninhibited. Have you been watching the news lately."

"Yeah, you mean those feminist rallies. I heard they were naked in the streets, I thought it was just an empowerment thing."

"Those breakouts were tests."

"All right Daniel, I hear what you're saying, but if its true, why don't your bosses just make this troublemaker disappear. They are the government, right?"

"Our superiors didn't know before, none of us did, and now, they're not going to be any help."

"Why not?"

"They wouldn't care, they already been exposed to the preliminary programming."

"Wait, all of your bosses are women?"

"The subliminal message program is currently being run with two separate command structures. One to eliminate inhibitions in women, and a second to make men completely accepting of the idea."

"OK, so why weren't you affected?"

"I knew about it beforehand, and the mental stress imposed can combat the subliminal messages. That's the best defense we have."

"We?"

"I need your help Stan. I knew I could talk to you, I never talked about you before. Your not affected to much, because you've lived your entire life obsessed with women. I know it's a horrible thought, but you're my only hope."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Go to the press, spread the word, I'll give the documents that will make your story credible, but you have to do the rest."

"Why can't "

" I can't do anything suspicious, I'm being watched. They are the government, remember? I'm taking a risk just meeting you. So now I'm going to leave, you're going to take the disk on the table, and you're going to go to the media."

"Umm, this is pretty heavy Dan. I don't "

"You have to Stanley, this isn't a joke, just take the disk and give it to the press, that's all."

With that, Daniel Baron left Dona's cafe, Stan watched as he drove away, and a black van followed his car down the road.

"This is crazy, this is completely crazy," was all Stan could think as he walked downtown. The government making women into sluts, his brother must have lost it. But with the news stories, and the bizarre events of his own last few days, he couldn't help but turn over the situation in his head. Could it be true? If it were, was it really all that bad? He could think of several things good about women open to sex, but was it fair? This subliminal message thing sounded like something from the back of a comic book, should he really allow the whole world to be brainwashed? Moral, ethical, and sexual thoughts swirled around together in his brain for perhaps the first time, and he knew that despite his own love of sex, he couldn't allow the world to be robbed of free will. With this renewed resolve, he set out to blow the whistle on this diabolical conspiracy.

Unfortunately for all self-respecting feminists in the world, at that moment, Cammy Spurgeon, college student and known "hotty" rode slowly past Stan on her way to cheerleading practice. Seeing the beautiful brunette, Stan could not help but regress to his usually demeanor.

"Hey sweetness, can I get a ride next?"

Usually this would be met with indifference or disgust, but the pretty biker simply stopped pedaling, looked back at Stan, and giggled. Stan, even knowing that people were being affected by subliminal messages, was taken aback. The girl was still watching him, perhaps waiting for a continuation of their "conversation," so he began chatting up the girl.

"So um do you go to school around here?"

"Yes! I'm a junior. Are you a student too?"

Stan hadn't ever been taken for a student before, even when he was a student, so he wondered if the girl was flirting. He also wondered if the girl was "affected" like his brother had said. He needed a test, so he took a chance. "Listen I was wondering if you like to get together sometime, and have sex." It wasn't the most suave, charismatic, or even well-formed pick up line ever, but if this girl was affected, it would certainly serve its purpose.

"Gee, (giggle) that would be nice, thanks."

Ok, but maybe she was just a slut, a really big slut. The situation required, unbelievably, a more direct approach. "Why don't you lift up your shirt" "Oh, ok," she said, following his suggestion, in the middle the street. "and pour your water bottle on your chest." Another direction followed without hesitation. The cold water poured across the girls small, but not at all unappealing tits and across her short cut off jeans. Stan felt himself harden as he watched the girls nipples perk up with the cool water. Realization hit Stan Baron in that moment. He was standing in front of a girl, a girl who was exposing her now dripping wet breasts in public. Not only that, but the said public was not reacting at all to the shirtless woman in the middle of downtown. The world was being brainwashed, women were being turned completely uninhibited, and no one saw anything wrong with this. No one, especially not Stan Baron.

"and all charges against the Miami chapter of the Independent Women's Alliance were dropped. A spokesmen for the Miami Police Department said that the interruption of the "peaceful gathering of young women" was in no way inappropriate. This, as well as several other events in the past two weeks now, are certainly sending a positive message to all feminist groups everywhere, and we here at Channel 6 would like to say that we support the right for woman to express themselves however they desire." Stan watched in happy contentment as the very pretty newswoman reported on the spread of "women's independence" everywhere. In the two weeks since his discovery of the conspiracy, the small outbreaks had grown to a global scale. Stan wasn't really interested in the global, political, or socio-ethic ramifications of this at the moment, because he was more interested in the pair of lips around his shaft. He had thought about free will and brainwashing some during that time, and had come to the conclusion that if he was happy, the woman sucking him was happy, and the half naked anchorwoman on the television was happy, then there couldn't be anything to wrong. As he came with a grunt, the only thought in his head was, "Wow, that reporter chick IS pretty hot."

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