Chapter Two: A Great Game
Kevin is nothing if not methodical.
This, unfortunately, I'm learning at my own expense. In the days since my failed attempt at dominating his mind, I've attacked my new programming from every direction I could think of. Tried to shake loose of the tentative, but harmful messages he's planted in my own mind.
It hasn't worked. I hate to admit it--it honestly makes my stomach churn--but there's a degree of coherence to his instructions. For a newbie who was thinking on his feet, he did a pretty good job.
I'll have to congratulate him, when I do break free. Right before I take my revenge and destroy him, of course.
For now, though, I'm left struggling against the self-sabotaging conditions imposed on my own mind. First: I have to acknowledge that he has some kind of authority over me. That in itself is such a deeply insulting concept that it keeps me up well into the night.
Me, a feminist and a lesbian! Ever since starting university I've consistently used my power to emancipate women and deplatform misogynists. I'm taller, stronger, and smarter than Kevin. Maybe most importantly, I am the one with sanity-bending, reality-defying mind control powers.
And yet, in my own subconscious, I am forced to raise him upon a pedestal. This is no slavish submission, mind, definitely not the kind of iron grip a skilled mind controller would have inflicted upon a victim. It's the mental equivalent of a subtle, respectful bowing of my head. But it's enough to make me fume with impotent rage.
Hell, it was enough to let the bastard grope me with no consequences. No matter how much I screamed internally, the controlled part of my mind recognised his right to take liberties with a woman's body, and stopped me from acting.
I don't know how to remove this lever, but I have to. As night follows day, I try to stay away from Kevin as much as possible. I need time and space to figure this out, come up with a counter strategy. But I should have known this couldn't last forever. That eventually he, too, would find the courage to act.
And that's how this dreadful Monday begins. With me staring at his text message, which firmly puts the first lever into play.
The message is straight and to the point.
"You'll come over tonight. I have new instructions for you."
Simply telling him to fuck off is not an option. I may not yet be hypnotised to the point I will obey any command, but this is a sufficiently reasonable request that the first rule applies. Immediately my body stiffens, rejecting the idea of outwardly disrespecting him like that. I grit my teeth, willing my body to snap and obey me instead, but I know my power.
It doesn't leave any job half-done, and for once in my life, I deeply regret that.
I could, of course, dodge his "invitation" with a lie... except that is where Kevin's second lever comes in. This one, he can take no credit for: it was entirely my own subconscious, choosing to interpret the power's commands in the only way it possibly could.
I need to always be honest and truthful with Kevin.
I pump a fist against my thigh in frustration. The power imbalance between us is such that I should be able to quash him like a bug. Instead, I'm fighting with a hand tied behind my back. I can't just take over his mind, because my own power is preventing me from doing it.
I can still break free, but I need to do so without lying to him, or lashing out at his bossy ways.
God, this is so frustrating!
I take in a deep breath. I need to calm down. This is a marathon, not a sprint. A great game of chicken where patience and endurance will be rewarded. Kevin may have control for now, but ultimately, I'm the one with the supernatural abilities. Long-term, that is going to tell. Of course it is.
But for now, I have no choice except message my good friend Sandra that I need a raincheck for tonight. Ugh... cancelling plans with my friend so I can indulge the whims of the class incel! This in and of itself is such a violation that I find myself hyperventilating again.
Sandra takes it in stride, luckily. She's quite used to my sudden cancellations. Of course, unbeknownst to her, those were usually motivated by... other... factors. It's one thing to cancel on your friends because you have a submissive lesbian harem to enjoy, or a lecherous man to put in his place. But this, this is... enraging. Insulting. Demeaning.
Morosely, I consider that I haven't even touched the Squad since the incident with Kevin. I cannot bear to.
A part of me--a honest, vulnerable part of me I haven't listened to in a long time--tells me that maybe that should be my wake up call. That it should trigger a profound reflection on my harem, the nature of my power, and human nature in general.
That maybe we were never meant to have absolute power, lest we be corrupted absolutely. That our minds are not designed to cope with a situation in which we have no pushback, no opposition, no critique, and just get everything we want at the snap of our fingers.
I begrudgingly admit that maybe absolute power has warped my perspective. But it's pointless to put my hand on my heart right now, and swear I'll do better once I'm free. I need to break out of Kevin's clutches, first.
And at least tonight, that means surviving whatever he has in store for me...
* * *
I used to own the night.
It's hard to explain to a man how unsafe a woman can feel after dark. Just how frequent unsolicited encounters with predatory men can be. Just how conditioned we are by society that it's our responsibility to avoid these encounters, while men are given a free pass.
But not me.
I used to be the ambush predator. To lie in wait in the darkness, ready to spring on my chosen targets. The privacy and covered offered by the dark has allowed me to hypnotise people in the open, right under everyone's nose. An invaluable tool: not all of my targets were professors with office hours that I could confidently engage one on one, after all.
