When she bent over to clean one of the café tables I took my chance and fired. My umbrella twitched in my hand as a concealed spring-loaded air pistol shot the little dart across the café. My heart was in my mouth as I watched it whip across the room and bury itself into her perfect little bottom.
Anne gave a yelp and stood up looking furiously around and rubbing her behind. Her eyes fell on a young man at the next table sitting with his girlfriend.
"What the hell do you think you are doing?" she yelled, her pretty face flushed with anger.
"What are you talking about?" the man looked confused.
"How dare you touch me!"
"I didn't touch you!" replied the man now clearly flustered and annoyed.
"You pinched my ass you pervert. That really hurt!"
All eyes were on Anne and the man that she thought had assaulted her. No one was looking at me. They hadn't seen me fire the dart.
As designed, when Anne rubbed her bottom, she had unknowingly snapped off the tail of the tiny dart and I watched it roll under a nearby chair. The head of the dart was buried in her ass. Already the anesthetic gel it was coated in would be easing the pain.
"I don't have to put up with this! Get the hell out of here!" shouted Anne.
"He didn't do anything!" said the man's girlfriend, but she looked a little unsure.
"This is the twenty-first century mate! You can't just touch up young women!" I joined in.
The man was a lot bigger than I was. He glared at me with pure hatred and I was very glad that we had a table between us.
Anne and the other waitress, Becky ushered the man and his girlfriend out of the café. They left, the man still protesting his innocence and his girlfriend looking angry and embarrassed.
"You try and be friendly to people and they think they can take liberties!" said Anne as she watched them go.
"Are you OK?" I asked.
"I think so, I don't know what that freak did, but it really hurt!" she complained rubbing her bottom.
"Some people!" I agreed.
While everyone was still looking at Anne, I pretended to drop something and quickly retrieved the tail of the dart from under the chair.
The disturbance now over, gradually the customers returned to their coffees. I sat back down and surreptitiously opened the special app on my smartwatch. The watch sent its signal and the 'love bug' pinged its response back. The love bug was active, all systems working.
I gave Anne a friendly smile as I left, but she was too busy talking to Becky and didn't notice. Most women look straight past a short, balding, middle-aged man, so I was used to it.
I couldn't believe this had gone so well. I couldn't believe that I'd dared to go through with it!
---
My name is Graham. I'd always hated the name, but it suited me. A boring little name for a boring, little, non-entity of a man.
I was employed just down the road at the university campus. I had a degree in Theoretical physics, but my career had never really taken off. At the age of fifty I was reduced to administering medical experiments for other people's inventions.
The experiment that I had recently been working on was a treatment for bipolar disorder.
There are many chemicals in the brain the effect mood. Such as Serotonin, Dopamine, Endorphins and Oxytocin. Sufferers of bipolar disorder swing between manic and depressed states often caused by too much or too little of these chemicals in the brain.
The new treatment was very simple in theory. A tiny implant was inserted into the human body. This was designed to store these chemicals when there was too much of them. Then it could release them when there was too little. As a result, it should keep the bipolar patient's mood at an even level.
The implant used brand new materials to filter the chemicals from the bloodstream. It was only about the size of a grain of rice but could swell to about the size of a pea as it filled its reservoir. This was all the storage it needed as the amounts of these chemicals in the blood are tiny. It could run for years powered only by the small amount of electrical energy naturally present in the human body.
The early prototypes of the implant needed to be remotely controlled. Communication was made with the implant using just a basic blue-tooth signal. The operator could trigger the device to store or release happy chemicals.
Levels -1 to -5 would withdraw the chemicals, 0 was a neutral setting and +1 to +5 would release them. The only real flaw in the system was that the implant had to first collect a reservoir of the chemicals before they could be released.
As I studied the test subjects, I couldn't help wondering what effect this would have on someone who didn't have bipolar disorder.
No one else in the team seemed to have any ethical worries about the new implants. They were too engrossed in the science to think about ethics. However, I realized that if I could control someone's implant, then I could make them feel happy or sad on command.
This could be used as an amazingly powerful form of behavioral conditioning, especially if they didn't know that they had an implant inside them. Just imagine; I could make someone deliriously happy every time that they were close to me and very sad if I went away. It might not happen at once; but they would unconsciously learn that they needed to be near to me. They would want to be my friend or maybe even more...
My mind immediately turned to thinking about Anne.
Anne was a student studying at the university and had been working part time at my regular coffee shop for a few months. I was immediately struck with how lovely she was. She was incredibly beautiful, but she wasn't just pretty; she was funny and clever as well. Some beautiful women can be stuck up and vain, but she was a genuinely nice, friendly person. She really was my dream woman.
I watched men hit on her all the time, but even when she rebuffed them, it was in a firm but kindly way. So that they got the message, but they didn't leave feeling humiliated.
I had developed quite a crush on her, but I had never even thought of asking her out, she was so far out of my league that it was depressing. What would a girl like that want with a middle-aged man?