Hypnotic Adventures Of Beauty Ch 01

The Beauty

Alright, here's the deal. This story isn't about me... it's about Betty. Betty the Beauty. But things got awfully confusing awfully fast; and so, for the sake of simplifying it even a little, I'm going to step in first and introduce the characters. After all, I've known all the participants in our tale the longest. But the thing is: where do I begin? Most people would say that I should begin at the beginning; but I've always been a rebel, so I'm going to tell you the end of the story... or at least, the end as far as I'M concerned. So... here are the players, and here's what happened to ME.

The first time we were actually all together was in the apartment, in the kitchen. The guys were fighting, sitting across from each other at the small dining table, yelling. Betty was sitting between them, facing me. And me? I wasn't sitting at all; I was standing; leaning back; resting my elbows on the countertop next to the sink. Billy was to my right (Betty's left); Tony was to my left (Betty's right).

So... you got the layout, right? Now, the first thing I'm going to do (right after I describe each of the people in our little production) is to tell you why I was standing up while the other three were sitting down. And that's just going to blow you away! Swear to God! And THEN I'm going to tell you why the guys were screaming at each other. And that's going to blow you away even more!

And so, without further ado, I will proceed with the introduction of characters. Me first. Hey, it's MY introduction, so I'm going to go first! My name is Riya, and I am an "Other." You see, in the U.S., every ten years, there's a census. They like to say that they just want to know how many people there are; but if you've ever seen a census form, it's pretty obvious that it's all about marketing (or gerrymandering, which is the political equivalent). They are clearly trying to gain something. They're trying to categorize us. They're trying to sell us something.

The first thing they're interested in is race. Black, Caucasian, Hispanic, Asian... in the last census there were 15 categories to choose from. One of those categories was "Other." My Dad's father was an African American who, as a soldier in Viet Nam, met Grandma while on R&R in the Philippines. Granddad was Baptist, but he really didn't give a shit; so Dad was raised Catholic. Mommy's dad (Poppy) was a Samoan born in Hawaii. He met Moppy on a business trip to India. Poppy was raised in some sort of polytheistic religion, but he didn't give a shit either; so Mommy was raised Hindu. And then, so was I. Unfortunately for Mommy, I inherited my "give a shit" characteristics from the men of the family. It came to a head (pardon the pun) when she wanted me to start wearing a bindi to show my faith following Pooja and other prayer services. I stopped praying and she stopped talking to me... at least for a year or two.

So... I'm an "Other." Whatever genes are in me, they aligned to form something between "exotic hottie" and "junkyard mongrel." I didn't much care which. The way guys kept hounding me, I guess my "hottie" persona must have slipped to the fore from time to time, but I kept it at bay as best I could. After I left home, I immersed myself in quantum physics at MIT. I simply didn't care about religion... or about men. I even resorted to putting a bindi on my forehead just to discourage prospective suitors (though I never returned to prayer). You see, a bindi on a woman of marriageable age can signify dedication and loyalty to her man, as well as to her faith. Nothing turns a guy off like religion. But then I met Tony.

Next character: Anthony Bionicci (sitting to my left, Betty's right). Born Chicago, 1984. Family business: extortion and coercion. Tony is NOT in the family business, much to the family's dismay. He definitely has the family physical traits: dark hair, dark eyes, wiry frame, and an unbelievably smooth style with women. There was a glimmer of hope (as far as the family was concerned) when he went into pre-law at UNC. (There was ALWAYS a need for another mouthpiece in "the business.") But that glimmer died abruptly when Tony met Billy (sitting to my right, Betty's left). Within a week of that meeting, Tony switched to the incredibly narrow field of Copyright Law.

Now, I know you're going to accuse me of reneging on my original promises, but I am NOT going to describe Billy to you. I'll let Betty do that. Exactly HOW William Smythe and Anthony Bionicci first got together (during their second year of post-grad studies) is still the stuff of legend. I've only heard them talking about it when they were both drunk, and neither of them is very reliable in that state, so not even I know for sure. They moved in together in a house off-campus. Billy had developed something, and Tony put ALL of his efforts (from that point on) into protecting it. All these years later, that's still what he's doing. And they've more or less split all the money from the thing 50/50.

Okay, I'm only going to bore you with this using one paragraph. If you can't keep up, don't worry about it. It's MY field, and it took me a long time to understand everything about it, myself. Billy had developed a workable quantum computer. Basic computers use processors based on the electron. As complicated and as small as they are nowadays, they still basically use simple on-off, one-zero code. I mean, even processors that think in terms of terabytes are still based on the byte. Now, the concept of a system that is based on something OTHER than the electron has been around for decades. There have been advances made by folks at MIT, IBM, Argonne, CERN, Oxford and other places, working on principles that would include four, five and even eight qubits (quantum bits). Billy's processor worked on the basic (and not entirely original) concept that a bit could not only be on or off, but on AND off at the same time (yes, yes, I know: the basis for "Schrödinger's cat"). The REAL problem with quantum machines has always been that even if they worked, they wound up being less powerful than the computers we already have. But Billy's processor not only worked, it immediately multiplied available capacity... and it would continue to multiply that capacity as processing capability improved. He had already developed conversion software for every platform.

So... I bored you with Billy's paragraph. Here's Tony's paragraph. If you don't know what a "patent troll" is, I need you to look it up online now. Keep in mind that the IDEA of quantum computers has been around for a long time now. Trolls, though they had no idea HOW something like that could conceivably work, had already patented THOUSANDS of conceptual overall themes that would at least come close enough to Billy's so that they would claim the profits for whatever he came up with. THAT is why Tony changed his field of legal study. THAT was the problem he dedicated himself to solving. And more than two years later, he did. It meant combining legal teams from ALL the major computing firms... and then applying political pressure (LOTS of political pressure) until the laws were finally, finally changed into something with a little more common sense. It was a HUGE victory. Overnight, the entire world of computing changed dramatically. And BQPC (Billy's Quantum Processing Corporation, LLC) was born.

You have no idea how much I wanted to go to work for that company! EVERYBODY did! The world's first quantum processor manufacturer! The firm was very small at first, even though the major computer corporations were clamoring for immediate payback for their part in changing the laws. Seed money just POURED in! Hundreds of millions! I don't know how they decided to choose my name, or why I was one of the first people interviewed, but I'll never forget that day as long as I live. The newly-appointed personnel manager was just about to call me into her office when Tony caught sight of me in the waiting room and immediately proclaimed that HE would interview me personally. His new office was still mostly crates and boxes, but he kept me in there for more than an hour. I knew right away that he had no interest in my abilities... he only had interest in ME! I resisted, and when he asked me out for dinner that evening, I actually burst into tears before telling him to go fuck himself and storming out. Oh gosh, I had wanted that job! Before I'd gotten back to my motel room, he'd already left me three voice messages telling me that I had the job and that I was under absolutely NO obligation to him. Ever. Period. But please, please take the job, he said. And I did, of course.

At the end of my first week, he asked me out on a date again. I ranted and berated him and turned him down flat, but he just smiled and shrugged and apologized and walked away. He asked me out again the following week... which I refused. And the next week, and the next. He was always very polite; always very respectful. But he was also very persistent. If I saw him approaching me in the hall, I would often yell "No, Mr. Bionicci, I will NOT go out with you!" and people would stop and stare and snicker. But as he passed, he would simply smile and respond quietly, "Perhaps next time, then, Riya."

I was working furiously with Billy's new staff of mathematicians and engineers (though not with Billy himself. A very private person, Billy). I stayed late on most evenings, working. Somehow, Tony found out about this, and wandered in from time to time. Often, in fact. And he'd ask me questions about what I was doing, apparently taking genuine interest. He never demanded. He never gave ultimatums. But he was always THERE; always applying that underlying subtle pressure; always letting me know that his feeling for me were pure but undeniable. He started sending me flowers. And finally, finally, I relented and went out with him. I had a good time... and he KNEW it. And then, I let him take me out the following week. And the next. And then twice in a week. And then three times. I put off having sex with him for more than a month. But by that time, I was already hooked. I was already his. Forever.

Shortly after I moved in with him, he asked me for the first time if he could hypnotize me. It obviously took me by surprise. I knew that he had been a womanizer... that he had often dated several girls at once. He swore to me (and I later learned it was true) that he hadn't been with a woman sexually... hadn't even been out on a date with anyone else... since the day he had met me. He confessed to me that before that, he frequently hypnotized girls, and that once knowledge of his little "hobby" had gotten around, women would approach him, wanting him to use it on them. They expected it to end in sex, and he insisted that he could dramatically improve the experience using it. I thought about it for a week or two before I finally let him try it on me. And he was right. It really DID improve things. Not that they particularly needed improvement. I was already his. Completely his. Oh, how I love that man! And... I have always loved having sex with Tony. The hypnosis simply took something that was already wonderful and made it almost infinitely variable. Very soon, I became hooked on it. He would utter a few words, and I'd just surrender to him and slip into a trance. I have to admit, the feeling is heavenly!

I'm not going to tell you about the first time I met Billy. I WILL tell you that it was very, very much like the first time Betty met him, so you can (and must) wait for her description of that event. But I WILL tell you that we became very close friends. There is no one like Billy. He is stupendously bright, marvelously witty, and generally just fun to be with.

Just about the time the company spit out our first quantum processor, Tony bought the mansion on the lake south of Chapel Hill. It wasn't one of those old southern plantation affairs; it was a modern 50-room place that had been built in the 1940's by a textile manufacturing magnate. You know... back when there WAS textile manufacturing in the U.S. There are three wings, and Tony and I moved into the top floor of one of them, while Tony's offices were below. Another wing was used for "business purposes;" entertaining executives from computer firms, etc. Ballroom, dining room, etcetera, downstairs; bedrooms upstairs. We also used it for throwing parties for employees and friends from the universities in the Research Triangle and beyond. The downstairs of the remaining wing was used for R&D offices. And the upstairs held "The Apartment," as well as a couple spare bedrooms.

The seven-room apartment was Billy's sanctuary. He never went out. Ever. The largest room in the Apartment was the office, one wall of which was taken up with books, while the other three walls were covered with dry-erase boards. There were movable ladders that allowed him to scribble all the way to the ceiling. In the center of the room were four desks, and he'd switch from one to the other depending on which computer he needed at the time. The Apartment also contained a bedroom, living room, exercise room, den and kitchen... in which, at the beginning of the end of our story, we were all sitting. All except me. I was standing. Remember that.

And now, at long last, it's time for me to tell you about Betty. Betty is the girl that all other girls love to hate. Her hair is a jumbled mass of red curls that fits her perfectly, and every strand stays in its perfectly chaotic place. As a matter of fact, ALL of Betty's features fit her perfectly. Her nose might be a tad smaller than the perfect nose, but it's the perfect size for HER. Know what I mean? I have seen her without an iota of makeup, and she still looks as if her face couldn't be improved upon. Her lips are naturally red, her cheeks naturally blush, her lashes naturally dark and full. But that's NOT the most amazing thing about her. The clincher is that beauty doesn't MEAN anything to her. She never works at it! She never really THINKS about her appearance! It would be one thing if she just took it for granted... but it's something entirely different to realize that if she suddenly lost her beauty, she wouldn't suffer because of it... she'd be just as happy as always... she'd just go right on being Betty. And THAT is what is so infuriating!

The final characteristic that fits her perfectly is her overall persona. Betty is innocent. Sublimely, ridiculously innocent. She always, always tells the truth, no matter who she is speaking to. And conversely, she always assumes that that person is telling her the truth, in return. This is not to say that the girl is stupid. In point of fact, she is one of the brightest, sharpest people I've ever met. It means that, in the end, she is quite often disappointed; sometimes crushingly so. I know that she has been enticed by at least two separate fringe religious groups. I pulled her back from the brink in one of those cases myself the year we graduated from high school. And, I know that she's been seduced by two guys who promised her the moon and delivered only heartache. I'll give her one point: she learns from her failures. After the second bout of religious fervor, she pretty much lost her faith. And after romantic heartache number two, she simply stopped dating. Period. At the time our little saga took place, she hadn't been out with a guy for two years. No shit.

Okay, one last point before we get started here. Billy's favorite movie line comes from "Silverado," a western from several years ago. In it, John Cleese's character tells a group of cowboys in very stilted English: "I am not from around these parts." Billy loves to say that. And... he's not. It really isn't a problem... unless he becomes agitated for some reason. You know... flustered or embarrassed or angry. And right now, he was angry. As a result, he had slipped back into the dialect of his upbringing. It made understanding him a bit... difficult.

So... hang on to your hats! Here we go! Billy to my right, Tony to my left. Why was I standing up? Because I was wearing the same skimpy, powder-blue, pull-over dress that I'd been wearing to the party earlier that evening. That dress... and nothing else. The bra was in the trash. I had no IDEA where my panties were. And Billy's cum was dribbling out of me down my inner thighs. I knew that if I sat down, I'd wind up with a dark stain on the back of my dress in precisely the place I least wanted a stain. And it would only underscore the horrible fact that it was Billy's cum that was doing the staining! Remember... it was Tony that was my true one-and-only... my lord and master... my soul mate... the love of my life.

Tony and Betty had caught us "in flagrante delicto." Oh, I forgot to tell you that Betty sort of had a thing for Billy. I was not really sure if that was the reason she was sitting like she was: between the two guys, refusing to look up at me. She'd been carrying around a flower all evening... a long-stemmed rose... and she was idly playing with it, so that the poor thing was about to fall apart. Gosh, I felt horrible! Not just because I'd let Billy do the deep nasty to me... not just because I thought I'd betrayed Tony... but because I thought I'd betrayed Betty, too.

And why were the boys arguing? Because it had all been Tony's doing! Well... not quite; but almost. At various times during the afternoon and evening, Billy, Betty and I had all been hypnotized (and not always by Tony... but I'll get to that.) But Tony had been responsible! The events had all unfolded BECAUSE of Tony. I felt awful. Billy felt awful. Betty felt awful. And Billy, for one, was not going to let it slide.

"Dodgy bloody stonkin' tosser!" Billy screamed across the table (at his best friend, mind you). Betty didn't look up, but her forehead wrinkled in thought, and I could tell that she was trying to translate that in her perfect little head.

Tony raised his hands in surrender. "Dude, I'm really sorry. I didn't know... "

"I ain't your dude, mate! Put a sock in it! Pardon me if I look a bit narked, but you're gawd barmy! Ye' gutted me, bugger!"

Betty's forehead wrinkled a bit more, but she still didn't look up.

And Billy went on: "Y' send your crackin' bird in here to mesmerize me and get me worked up; then you go and drag HER in to watch me give 'er the roger! Sorry we'd already finished up!"

"That's NOT why I brought her in here!" Tony said earnestly. "She wanted to see you again. And the way you looked at HER during the last party... "

"You told 'er I was lookin' at 'er?"

"She KNEW, you fool! You'd already shown her your little video setup here! And so she knew you were probably watching while I put her under tonight, too."

"Oh... I betcha y' had a great time doin' THAT! What ELSE y' been doin' with her all this time, eh?"

"Nothing, dude; I swear. But... oh, man! I've never had a subject like HER! You would not believe how... "

"Wonderfully suggestible," Betty said quietly. It was like she was talking to the flower.

"Yeah," Tony said, nodding. "Wonderfully suggestible!"

"Well, she's 'ad about enough of 'yer bloody suggestions!" Billy growled.

"That's the point, Billy!" Tony responded emphatically. "She can't get enough! She needs a strong man to... "

"Guys!" I implored. "Stop talking about her like that. She's sitting right there!"

"I'm sitting right here," Betty said to the flower.

They ignored us both. "Well, 'y buggered it bad, mate!"

"I was trying to HELP you, you thick-skulled idiot!" Tony flared.

"'Elp me? Sod off! You know what you are? You... you... "

"Wanker," Betty said quietly. She didn't look up, but kept fingering the flower. The three of us stared at her in shock for a long three seconds before bursting into laughter.

"Let's all take a deep breath here," I chimed in. "None of us meant for this to happen. It wasn't what it looked like."