DJ Bliss liked to start setting up far earlier than most entertainers at the nightclub. It was still hours before the club would open, and not even the bartender was in yet. That was part of the plan though. He needed to get hooked up and start playing his "warm up" track before anyone knew that the speakers were even on. This track wasn't even music, and was barely even perceptible, meaning that it couldn't even really have a strong effect. It didn't need to. The only subliminal message in this barely audible white noise was
everything is normal. Nothing weird is going on.
The message wouldn't be intense, but the staff would be exposed to it long enough for it to sink in anyway, at least enough to last until it was time to start his set.
---
Jenny was already dressed, and had done her makeup, but part of her still didn't want to go. Both of her friends were bringing dates, and she had no intention of trying to pick up a guy at the club. Jenny was aware that some people did find romance on the dancefloor or at the bar, but she'd never understood. How could you get to know someone over all that noise? Dancing was fun alone in front of her mirror, but at the club? It would take all her strength just to be in a room with that many people. But she knew her friends would never leave her alone if she didn't "get out of the house once in a while."
So it was that Jenny had wrapped her slight frame in a simple dress; it wasn't very revealing, but the top was tight to make the most of her small-but-perky breasts, and the skirt was flared to hide her lack of hips or buttocks. Her blonde hair was up in a tight bun, and she'd done a deliberately lackluster job with her makeup. It was enough to show her friends that she'd tried, but between her forgettable ensemble and short stature, she was hoping she'd avoid everyone's attention.
With the excuses of "you've already gotten dolled up," and "no one's going to notice you anyway," Jenny steeled herself and walked down to the dorm lobby to join her friends.
---
The DJ continued setting up and testing the rest of his equipment, the drone of pacification already playing at the edge of his perception. The manager that had let him in had given him no trouble, and was visibly relaxed. DJ Bliss would be fine listening to and being affected by this background noise himself, as this whole procedure was already normal to him. When it was showtime, he would obviously wear his headphones that canceled just the subliminal messages. Fully noise-canceling headphones would require him to take them off to hear someone talking to him, risking exposure to the music. For now though, he was simply running through the normal sound checks any musician would need. He'd wait until closer to opening to set up his more unique equipment.
---
It had been a month since Alesha had kicked Lamar to the street, and she was done crying. She was done moping around the apartment. She was going clubbing, she was going to have fun, and she was going to get some dick.
Alesha might have put on a pound or two from her weeks of ice cream and couch surfing, but she had at least been exercising. She was sure the boys would still call her "slim thicc." Alesha wasn't taking any chances. She donned her sluttiest outfit and confirmed that it still fit. While she was spilling out of it in all the right places, the bright pleather bikini top, miniskirt, and knee-high boots held strong and didn't hurt. Then she slathered on some bright eyeshadow and lipstick to make sure her dark skin didn't get lost in the club. With her height, a skirt this short was presenting a distinct possibility that she'd reveal she wasn't wearing anything underneath. She didn't care. Hell, that would probably help her on her mission.
Alesha grabbed her keys and handbag. It was time to go hunting.
---
It was time for the pièce de résistance. DJ Bliss installed his custom ultra-low-frequency pad. There were plenty of myths on the internet about a musical note or instrument that could cause women to orgasm through sound alone. Bliss had done the math though. While the purported 33hz was a close enough starting point, the resonant frequency of the clitoris varied from woman to woman and depended on many other factors, primarily any clothing that might be in the way. With that in mind, he'd found a more accurate midpoint and the appropriate range of variation. Since then, he'd programmed the pad to make use of this information. Through trial and error in small town dives, the "Pink Note" pad had been perfected and was more than ready for this big city club.
---
Lan had been briefly surprised to find the DJ mostly set up before she'd come in. She'd been similarly agitated at his unsubtle leers. After a few minutes of getting the bar ready for another Saturday night, she'd soon forgotten all about him.
Usually, it took a few drinks for men to start looking at her like that. Lan was wearing a low-cut top as usual (as the old adage goes, "tits get tips"), but she'd always had some weight in both the right
and
wrong places. She was probably still around the actual average weight for an American in her 30s, but it was hard not to compare herself to her petite family. None of her ex-girlfriends had ever complained though, being more attracted to her eyes, wisdom, and her portfolio of BDSM leathersmithing.