From the moment he saw her, Devon knew she was perfect. He spotted her deep in the stacks of the cavernous library, off in a hidden nook where she must have felt sure she was guaranteed privacy. She was reading a book--the title didn't matter, he was caught up in the look of rapt attention she gave the work. He could tell just by looking that she was utterly lost in the world the author created, imaginative and focused and drinking in the words on the page. He felt himself grow hard when he thought about the way she would soon be drinking in other words.
She would be a quick conquest, he could tell, but a sweet one. All his instincts told him that she was a natural hypnotic subject, that she would melt under his spell, give him access to her mind and her body. She would surrender to him, the same sweet, perfect moment of surrender that he had experienced so many times.
It was so lovely, that one moment where he could actually feel a woman's will breaking to his own. That faint, dying gleam of light in their eyes when he personally extinguished their will to resist always got to him in a way no other erotic pleasure could. It was a shame that he couldn't relive it over and over and over again, but there really wasn't any way to put the genie back in the bottle. He could restore their conscious mind, perhaps even leave them with the delusion that they could resist his power, but once he'd truly made her submit, there was just no erasing the imprint on their subconscious mind. The game wasn't fun anymore.
He looked at the perfect, perfect girl in the overstuffed chair. She was a slim black girl, probably about twenty, wearing glasses over her big brown eyes, with long hair pulled back into a tight bun. He wondered what he would do with her afterwards. She was too skinny to be a porn star, with slightly crooked teeth and no tits to speak of...perhaps he could sell her off. He knew people who would want a girl who did anything they were told, and who wouldn't ask any questions about how Devon had made her like that.
They were unscrupulous, violent men, but they paid good money. The porn stars and exotic dancers made a better long-term investment, as they stayed gainfully employed and could simply send him a portion of their income, but the ready cash that came from slavers and pimps was nice, too. In any event, he wasn't doing it for the money. The first girl he'd taken, he just left sitting in her apartment without a backward glance. Once they stopped being people and started being slaves, Devon stopped caring what happened to them. Only the process aroused him. He decided to start with the new girl right away.
He walked past her, then stopped suddenly as if startled. "Did...did you see that?" he asked the girl.
She looked up from her book. Her eyes had a slightly glassy look from the sudden forced departure from the world of her imagination, and Devon already felt his arousal stir, but he controlled it. There would be time for that later. "I'm sorry," she said, "see what?"
He looked around again. "The lights," he said, in a concerned tone. "I thought I saw them flicker a bit. I hope we don't get a power loss." He let a little nervousness show in his tone, a little vulnerability. Women liked that.
She looked at the lamp next to her. "I didn't notice anything," she said tentatively. He could tell from her voice that she didn't want to contradict him, even though she was probably more certain than she made out. Her mind was going to melt like butter once he got inside it, he thought.
"Could you..." He used his best 'I-know-this-sounds-silly' tone. "Could you watch the light with me for a moment, just to be sure?"
She smiled generously. "Of course," she said, turning her eyes towards the lamp again. This time, she held her gaze there.
"Thank you," he said. "I just...silly, I know, but I don't like dark places. I'm sorry, I'm Devon, and you are...?"
"Sharona," she said, blinking a little at the bright light.
Sharona, he thought. Just perfect. 'My Sharona', like the song. She soon would be. "Thank you, Sharona." He didn't bring up the song. She might have been teased about it, and he didn't want to trigger any bad reactions at this stage. "It's very nice of you to help me like this, Sharona. I know that light must be very bright, and you'd really like to close your eyes, but you're being very helpful. You're doing a wonderful thing, and you can feel very proud of yourself as you look at the light."
Sharona looked slightly flustered. "Well, I..."
"Shh, no, really. You don't need to say anything. You can just listen to me praising you, and keep looking at the light. I know it is very bright, Sharona, and your eyes are probably watering from the effort of keeping them open against that strong, overwhelming desire to close them, but you know that you're being such a good person by keeping them open for me, and I'm so happy with you for fighting so hard to keep those eyes open, so you're just going to keep them open a little bit longer, aren't you, Sharona?"
She looked at the light, now just a little confused. "I...yes, but..."
"That's wonderful, Sharona, that's just wonderful. You're doing so well, keeping those heavy eyes open, listening to me as I tell you how wonderful you are, what a good job you're doing, what a good person you are. It makes it easy to keep your eyes from slamming shut when you listen to me tell you how well you're doing, makes it easy to fight the impulse to just close your eyes and sit back in the warm darkness. You can just keep fighting the urge to close your eyes and listen to my voice, it's helping you stay focused, isn't it, Sharona?"
"...yes..." Oh, god, she was already starting to go under. She was totally focused on the light, and his voice. This was almost too easy. But the first part was always the easiest, getting them to go into trance only took a little work. He'd have a much more enjoyable time breaking down her barriers, conditioning her to obey, taking her mind apart piece by piece to find out what would turn her into a pliant, willing, obedient sex slave, and then reducing her will to nothing. He could tell from her eyes that even that wouldn't take long, though. Almost a shame.