Say My Name

Continued from the events of A Good Day

"She doesn't know my fucking name, Ricky," I shouted over the sizzle of my soldering iron. The cascade of sparks reflected in the black glass of my goggles.

"What? I can't hear you over that thing," Ricky shouted back.

I heaved an exhausted sigh, my lab coat rising and falling over my chest. I stopped soldering. A thin wisp of smoke curled into the air before disappearing into the harsh light of the laboratory. I turned towards Ricky, moving my goggles up onto my forehead. Their strap felt tight against the bun of my blonde hair. I had put it up because soldering. "I said, she doesn't even know my name. I mean how messed up is that?" I said in a more even voice.

Ricky had been practicing swinging a pocket watch in a mirror. He stopped and faced me with an earnest expression in his tired, brown eyes. "If it makes you feel better Megan, I don't think she knows my name either."

It did not make me feel better. "Of course she doesn't know your name. Lisa kicked you out after thirty seconds last time."

"Hey!?" He huffed. "What did I do?"

I felt a pang of guilt. "I'm sorry. You're right. You didn't do anything. I'm just frustrated."

He placed a consoling hand on my shoulder. "Cheer up. It sounded like you almost had her last time. If I came that close, I would be stoked."

I rolled my eyes. "That just makes it worse, Ricky. I could see it. Her posture was slumping. Her soft lips were hanging open." I shivered at the memory of her dazed expression beneath my head set. Her body so open and relaxed, her mind so deliciously helpless to my programming file. "She was nearly gone. I could see it. And it all came crashing down because of the stupid hardware. Hardware is the worst."

"Yup, you said it. It's so unfair of The Supreme Master to make us provide our own hardware. Lisa didn't like the pendulum, so I had to buy this new pocket watch with my own money!" He let the golden clock dangle from his fingers. It turned slowly on its delicate chain.

I placed a hand to my forehead. "Ricky, didn't Lisa tell you the pendulum was boring and overdone?"

"Yes, she did," he nodded.

"And your solution to that was to replace the pendulum with a pocket watch?" I asked painfully slowly, hoping he would see the problem.

"Yep. I think that should do it," he smiled.

"You don't think she'll say the same thing tomorrow?" I prodded.

"No way. Pocket watches are way cooler than pendants. Just look at all the detail on this. Your eye just follows the delicate, golden filigrees as they dance around the face." He held it up to my eyes so I could see it better.

It was a pretty watch. The detailing on the face did have a fascinating pattern.

"And the hands move so slowly and evenly. The calm, even rhythm of the watch synchronizes with the rhythm of your breathing."

My eyes followed the steady tick, tick, tick of the watch. My pulse slowed as my breathing relaxed.

"And it's even better when it's swinging. Here, just watch the watch and let everything else fade from your mind," his voice took on a soothing, low tome. He started gently swinging it from side to side. My gaze followed it effortlessly automatically, back and forth and back and forth.

Wait. "Rickyyy!" I hissed. I shook my head, clearing the fog I didn't even realize had settled over it.

"Sorry! Sorry! Just practicing." He threw up his hands, like I was going to mug him. I was honestly tempted to slap him. But I settled for an exasperated groan instead.

I didn't really blame him though. After all, we came here to take over the world with mind control. I couldn't exactly expect him to be ethical. "You know maybe that will work out for you." I snapped my goggles back on and returned to my work.

"I'll show you heavy," I grumbled under my breath as the soldering iron flared to life on the circuit board. The hair-thin, golden circuits glowed from the heat.

The whole situation felt incredibly unfair. Wasn't it enough that I developed a sensory overloading program that could render the human mind into a suggestible trance state? My research had been enough to put me on The Supreme Master's radar back when I'd been a humble bio-neurology PhD student. Did he have to make me prove myself to his stupid assistant or whoever Lisa was?

Did he really need to make me build my own hardware too? Oh he would ramble on about how things were in his day and the value of hard work and doing things yourself and blah, blah, blah. My fine fingers were concealed in a pair of heavy work gloves. I hated getting my hands dirty. Why have an army of brainwashed slaves if you have to do the dirty parts yourself?

Two nearly invisible, circuits flared as they joined together. It was almost done. Apparently it wasn't enough to be a genius who unlocked the human mind. No, no, no. I also had to be the next Steve, Fucking, Jobs and design a comfortable VR headset in a week. Why did I have to always work harder than everyone else? I growled, a low guttural growl in the back of my throat.

And Lisa was the worst part. So apathetic. She seemed distracted and indifferent, like she barely cared we were there. Here I was, throwing away my old life and risking everything for power and domination, and she couldn't even be bothered to learn my name.

I set the soldering iron down and admired my handiwork. The lacy lattice of gold stretched out across the metal work table, glinting under the LED glare. Perfect. It was perfect. I slid off the heavy work gloves and the goggles. I put my glasses back on, my vision briefly blurred without the prescription goggles. My hands took up two pairs of long tweezers. As gently as my sleep deprived fingers could manage, I lifted the wires and slotted them into the silicone mold.

I could feel the anxiety retreating as I looked up at the red numbers glowing from the wall. 11:37pm, almost Friday. Almost our one shot at Lisa for the week. I was going to make it, barely. The design phase had taken up almost all my time. I couldn't start fabricating until late Tuesday. I had practically pulled an all-nighter just to get the mold done in time. But I could already see the pieces coming together in my mind. It would cure in time.

I reached over to the warming pot. The lid came free easily, revealing a bubbling cauldron of molten plastic. Immediately, the rancorous odor of burning acrylic filled the lab.

"Ew. Can you do that outside?" Ricky complained.

"Nope."

"Why not? It smells like ass."

I turned around and glared at him, pushing up my glasses for effect. "Because we're in an underground base on a secluded tropical island. The humidity outside is 88%. This will never cure by morning out there."

"So it's gonna smell like this all night in here?" He grimaced.

"Ricky, you're literally just swinging a watch back and forth. Just go to your room."

"Fine, I will!" He made a big show of collecting his things and leaving the lab. The heavy, industrial door banged behind him on his way out.

I rubbed my temple. Why did other people have to be so dumb? Sometimes I felt like I was the only one who used their brain around here, especially now that Marcus had graduated. He had always been smug and acted like he was better than everyone, sure. But at least he had two brain cells to rub together. I couldn't be stuck here another week with just Ricky. Yet I knew that Lisa lumped me in with morons like him. "I'll show her," I mumbled.

I put my heavy gloves back on and raised the container of melted plastic. The acrid stench invaded my nostrils as I lifted it. I did my best to hold my breath, while tipping it over the mold. The liquid plastic flowed over the lip like glossy lava. With a burbling noise, the heavy goop seeped its way into the small mold. After a moment it filled the narrow slot, and I tipped it back.

Gingerly I took the mold and shook it back and forth, working out any air bubbles. Finally satisfied with my work, I turned from it. The bubbles had stopped in the pot of melted acrylic. As the surface calmed, I could see a murky version of my reflection staring up at me.

I looked down at myself. I gave up everything for this, a promising career, a nice social life, supportive parents. But none of that mattered. I would always have been part of the system in that life, just following the path that had been laid out for me. I wanted power, respect, control, and I would have it. Some bitch who couldn't be bothered to learn a two syllable name was not about to stand in the way of my dream. This would work. It had to.

--

My feet paced nervously, echoing on the concrete floor outside the exam room. I checked my makeup with my phone again. Everything still looked perfect. The foundation mostly concealed the dark circles under my eyes and the eye shadow gave my gaze a piercing contrast. My hair was pulled back into a long pony tail. The deep burgundy of my blouse and sharp black of my skirt peaked out from underneath my lab coat. I looked immaculate. Always project confidence. Granted my nervous pacing didn't project confidence, but Lisa couldn't see that.

After a seeming eternity the door to the exam room opened and Ricky emerged with his eyes downcast.

"How'd it go?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

"Not great. She called me 'unoriginal'. But she watched longer than last time."

"I told you that would happen," I scolded. Honestly I didn't know why I cared. It just frustrated me when people didn't listen to me.

"Yeah I figured it probably would," he sighed.

"You knew this would happen, and you did it anyway? Why?" I said with clear shock in my voice.

He looked past me, lost in thought for a moment. "I guess, I just want to do it my way, ya know? I don't care how many tries it takes. I want to make it work with the classic hypnosis I love. Is that so wrong?" His voice was soft and earnest.

For a second I just stood there, pondering. In a weird way, I did get. I came here because I wanted to live life my way, not the way society told me to. Maybe this was Ricky living life his way. "No. I get it." Part of me wanted to hug him, but that felt too familiar. So I just raised my fist for a fist bump. "Well good luck next time," I said with a gentle smile.

He smiled back and tapped his knuckles against mine. "You too, Megan."

"Hellooooo? I don't have all day," Lisa's voice called from inside the exam room.

I rolled my eyes and tried to remind myself to be patient. With a brief nod, Ricky left the waiting area and I entered the exam room.

I did my best to project confidence and control as I strode inside and closed the door.

Lisa sat behind the table, busy on her tablet, barely acknowledging me, same as always. She looked up briefly. "No briefcase today?" She asked. Her tone was flat, but I could tell she was mocking me for last week's failure. The fact that she was just my type only made it worse. That shoulder length brown hair with just a hint of blonde highlight at the tips, those deep emerald eyes you could get lost in, even her cool confidence, all gave me chills. But I didn't let it show.

Instead, I reached calmly into the pocket of my lab coat. "Don't need it to carry something this light." I extracted my latest creation and slid it across the metal table to her. The acrylic visor shone in the light. It looked more like glasses than a VR headset. The narrow band of clear plastic arced between a pair of round, over ear headphones, one at either end. The smooth curve ran perfectly to follow the shape of a person's face. Only a rounded groove for a nose interrupted the line.

But the real genius was the hair-line golden wires that ran through the visor. They were so faint as to be almost undetectable. Of course I was keenly aware of the incredible precision of their design. Seeing it sit there on the table, pride welled up in my chest. Hardware was not my strong suit. I could still smell a faint trace of acrylic, but you'd never noticed that if you weren't looking for it. At least I hoped so.

Lisa set down her tablet. She carefully picked up the visor and turned it over in her hands, studying it. "It is light," she said. I could have sworn I saw the faintest hint of a smile at the corner of her lips. A smile from the ice queen herself? I had to be imagining it. "But won't the transparency be a problem?" She asked.

I shrugged, playing it cool. "I don't know. I guess you'll have to put it on and find out."

She looked up at me with those deep, questioning eyes. I could see her wheels turning behind that even gaze. Lisa was nothing like Rickey. She wasn't slow like the others around here. She had depth, cunning. I could see the activity behind those eyes, trying to unravel my plans. God that intelligence was so hot. "Alright," she said calmly, slipping the visor on. She looked around the room, adjusting to the new accessory. "Still just seeing the room so far."

"Are you sure? Look again." My fingers slid down to the remote control in my pocket and activated the program. No turning back now.

The clear acrylic burst into a kaleidoscope of color. The circuitry in the display performed just as designed. From my perspective the glass was still partially transparent, but it should be totally opaque on her end. I ran through the steps of the program as I watched. First the display should overload her visual cortex, throwing her mind into a state of disorientation. I could see her eyes darting back and forth behind the visor, desperately searching for some constant in the endless mirage of swirling lights. So far so good.

I'd been using the VR headsets for a while. But this was my first time seeing my subject's eyes when they went under. It was... Intoxicating, watching that fierce intelligence desert her in real time. She was progressing into the next phase of programming. The movements of her pupils had slowed. Her breathing was slowing down too. The subliminals in the headphones should be kicking in now. They capitalized on the disorientation to relentlessly interrupt her thought process. Any time she tried to form a coherent idea the thrumming base would shake it apart, leaving space in her mind for new ideas, ideas I put there.

The subliminal messages I'd encoded into the audio frequencies would handle the rest. I don't know why so many of these hypnotists insisted on saying each of their suggestions out loud, one at a time. That always struck me as downright archaic. No my methods proved far more efficient. At that very moment dozens of suggestions were pouring into Lisa's soft, vulnerable consciousness. They would make her blank, docile, obedient and let's not forget horny. Everything I liked my slaves to be.

It took all my self-control to maintain my composure. It was really working. Her gaze had lost all direction and just stared aimlessly ahead now. Still I wasn't taking any chances. My finger upped the intensity on the control. The colors surged even brighter. I could almost hear the pounding bass from here, though the volume didn't seem to disturb Lisa, another good sign. I left it on that setting for another few minutes for good measure. I waited until her mouth hung slack with a thin rope of drool dangling from her soft lips. Her head lolled to the side as her body melted under the programming.

Cautiously I approached her and took her wrist in my hand. No reaction or resistance. I lifted it gently, still nothing. At last I dropped it and it flopped limply back to her lap. Still her eyes didn't so much as blink. She was ready. I turned the intensity down, the rainbow miasma almost disappearing and the bass quieting. That would allow her to hear me. "Lisa, how do you feel?"

"Heavy." Her voice was flatter than usual.

My heart skipped a beat. Not again. Surely she wasn't about to call the visor heavy. All my hard work for nothing. Panic gripped my chest. But Lisa didn't say anything else. I paused for a moment, waiting, holding my breath. But no other words came. Air and relief filled my lungs.

A small giggle escaped my lips. Then it built into a full, deep laugh. I couldn't control it, I didn't want to. My delirious laughter echoed off the metal walls of the small chamber. But it didn't disturb Lisa at all. Her vacant stare continued, unbothered by my outburst. She was out. At last, I clutched my stomach and caught my breath. "Lisa, are you a perfectly programmed pleasure drone for me?"

"Yes," the answer came immediately in a dull monotone.

I approached and leaned down over her. She probably had a decent view down my blouse, not that she had the mental capacity to appreciate it right now. "Yes, who?" I cooed.

"Yes Mistress."

With a sudden ferocity, I gripped my fingers into the locks of her chestnut hair. With a firm pull, I yanked her head to face mine. Even in her stupor, Lisa's eyes looked into mine. I held her there firmly. "That's not what I meant," I growled. She just continued to stare, unblinking.

"What's my name?" I hissed in a venomous whisper.

"I... I..." She stammered, her programmed mind likely searching its databases for information we both knew wasn't there.

"Say my name!" I shouted.

"I don't know it mistress," she said dully.

I pulled her hair again, the soft chestnut strands held tightly between my fingers. This time her face came within inches of mine. Her expression still radiated passive surrender. The gentle warmth of her steady breathing tickled my cheek. "It's Megan. Got it memorized?"

"Yes Mistress Megan," Lisa answered without hesitation.

"Oh Mistress Megan? I like that. That's how you'll refer to me from now on," I gloated.

"Yes Mistress Megan."

"And you'll like it too. Every time you say my name I want you to feel a little buzz of pleasure on your clit. Saying my name, hell even thinking my name makes you wet, drone."

"Yes Mistress Megan." I could hear the faint ripples of pleasure in her voice that time. My command had worked. The visor had conditioned her mind to instantly accept any order I give.

I pulled her even closer, her mouth practically touching mine as I whispered, "I want you to love it so fucking much that you lay awake at night, whispering my name to yourself until you cum your fucking brains out."

"Yes Mistress Megan." This time I could feel her body tremble in my grip, the command already taking hold.

"Good girl," I purred. "That act of obedience deserves a little reward. Kiss me."

"Yes Mistress Megan." She moved smoothly and robotically, closing the narrow gap between us. Her lips pressed against my own, gently easing them apart so her tongue could meet mine. She tasted like triumph. For a mindless drone her intensity surprised me. Her touch felt hungry, eager. It stoked the fire building between my own legs.

I moaned softly, just as Lisa pulled away. She returned to her inert state, awaiting further orders. I breathed heavily. "Lisa, you've been holding out on me. I didn't know you were so talented."

"Yes Mistress Megan." She answered flatly. I made a mental note to alter the program to allow a little more critical thought in drone mode. But that could wait.

"Let's see what other talents you have slave. Take those clothes off."

"Yes, Mistress Megan." Her hands moved with a fluid precision, undoing each button of her blouse in quick succession. Every open button revealing more and more of her tanned skin. The blouse fell to the floor revealing her toned arms and a lacy, black bra.

Lisa quickly reached behind her back to release the bra's clasp.

"More slowly slave, more sensually," I said, savoring her submission.

Lisa took on a subtle grace as she turned. Her shoulders rolled, allowing one strap to fall loose and then the other. "Yes, Mistress Megan." I could see the pleasure of my command wash over my slave. Her nipples hardened, pushing against the soft fabric of her bra before it fell to the floor.