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MIND CONTROL

The Proprietors Stolen Gift

The Proprietors Stolen Gift

by fgmntfmgnshn
20 min read
4.84 (11900 views)
adultfiction

The Proprietor's Stolen Gift:

Acquisition:

It was a gut punch to Trevor. He knew it was coming; he even thought he was prepared for it. But seeing Bella Adams, his best friend since kindergarten, through the window of Archie's Diner on a date with Theo Mitchell was more than he could bear.

Trevor didn't know where they were going, even Bella hadn't known, he only knew it was meant to be Friday right after school, so glancing through the window as he was walking to the library, he suddenly felt as if he couldn't breathe.

He knew he loved her.

And he knew she didn't love him.

Trevor had never asked Bella directly, but how could anyone love someone whose own Father didn't even love? The one person who by definition was supposed to love him unconditionally.

The sight Trevor beheld reminded him of his past, his Mother dying during his childbirth, his wealthy Father blaming him for the loss and becoming a drunken animal behind closed doors - so many bruises and broken bones healed by doctors who were paid off not to tell the authorities. His Father soon got remarried to a gold-digging blonde trophy wife, Selena, who didn't want anything to do with Trevor, and with her arrival came his new Stepsister, Savannah, who could do no wrong. Trevor was her constant scapegoat, conveniently blaming him for everything, ensuring his demise. By age eight, he was exiled, forced to live in the loft above the garage, and cast out of the only home he knew because Savannah lied and said he was peeping on her in the shower.

Trevor was on his own. He had a microwave as his only source in which to cook, a fridge that barely had any food in it, and it only did when he went shopping with the $150 a month spending limit credit card his Father gave him, all so he could be out of sight, out of mind. At fourteen, his Father died when he got behind the wheel after another alcoholic bender, causing Trevor's situation to become even worse as his Stepmother canceled the credit card. He did odd jobs around the neighborhood, doing anything and everything for an income until he was old enough to get a job as a busboy at Shenanigans Steakhouse.

Bella was Trevor's only salvation, a voice of comfort and solace since kindergarten. The only person to acknowledge his birthday. The only person to acknowledge his existence.

Trevor briskly left, his feet pounding the pavement in anguish as his eyes bore holes into the cement, all thoughts of his prior destination evaporated in the cool spring air.

And it's not that Trevor didn't understand why Bella would go on a date with the handsome, upper-echelon in popularity, Theo. Trevor knew full well that puberty didn't do him any favors, keeping his body average in every way, not to mention his difficulties at home with his Stepmother and Stepsister, which cemented his ideology of wanting to be left alone, choosing survival above all else.  Whereas for Bella, puberty came late but made up for the delay. By the end of junior year, her brown curls fell perfectly into place while her curves became envied by most. Once a tomboy happy in the solitude with Trevor, she could no longer be ignored, so much so that at the start of senior year, classmates thought she was a transfer student. Her social standing at school rapidly escalated, and with it, she became inundated with date requests, invites to attend parties, or just hang out, allowing her to become a social butterfly. Though they still conversed once a week, mostly by phone now, it was a far cry from when they would be seen together daily.

Trevor knew that all too soon graduation would be upon him and Bella, followed by a quick summer, and then they would be off to college, her at nearby State University and him choosing amongst his acceptance letters to be an ocean away at Imperial College in London, a mutually beneficial choice between him and his Stepmother. She would pay the tuition as long as Trevor went far away and to never return and he wanted to go far away and to never return.

Trevor wiped the tears from his eyes only to notice they were quickly replaced with raindrops. He glanced up to note he had traveled a good distance down Springwell Avenue, gone was the shopping district of the city of Hilldale and in its place were the business and residential skyscrapers in which only the truly wealthy could work or afford.

All except for the long abandoned little building that used to be a general store from a bygone era. Trevor knew the city had sold the rights to the condemned building years ago to a conglomerate that wanted to build yet another skyscraper, but the construction plans have been delayed in court due to the owner of the building across the street saying "It would ruin his view of the city skyline." Still, why was there a light on inside... with an open sign now hung on the door?

The rain made Trevor's decision easy, "Maybe I can wait out this storm and hopefully dry off a little."

The door creaked as if it hadn't been opened in ages and a stale, musky scent filled Trevor's nostrils enough for him to cough upon entering. Once he collected himself he glanced around to find the place was as worn on the inside as it was on the outside, old wood shelves with what appeared to be just as old bottled merchandise lined the side walls while an old wooden counter stood opposite of him.

"An antique shop." Trevor let go of the door and the weighted wood slammed back into place, the loud unexpectedness of it startling him with a shriek.

"Do come in, dear child," An older, mirthful voice cut through the livened dust particles as its host stood from behind the counter.

Trevor couldn't seem to focus and it felt as if the woman stood in a deep fog. He could tell the woman had black hair and was wearing an older-style black dress complete with a bustle, and somehow, through the mist, her eyes were piercing and hypnotic, though he couldn't make out the color, everything else about her was a blur. Was it the dust in the air? Or perhaps was it that he couldn't look away from the haze around her stare? The only thing that he was sure of was that this woman radiated a pearl of elderly wisdom based upon years of life but seemed far younger.

Trevor closed his eyes, which allowed him to look away from the woman. "Thanks." He looked to the right and found he was unsure of what he was looking at. It was an old black flask of a bottle with a cork. He moved closer, an exaggerated groan releasing from the wood with each step, to find it had no label.

"That potion is for hair regrowth."

The closeness of the voice caused a shiver down Trevor's spine and the woman gave a brief snicker. It barely registered that her footfalls were eerily silent.

"So, you're opening a pharmacy. I thought this place was destined to be a skyscraper."

"A skyscraper, goodness no," the woman gave a dismissive wave as she gave off a slight laugh. "The buildings that house my stores have been in my family for generations and I would never consider selling them let alone allow one of them to be turned into such an impersonal monstrosity."

'I was certain this was the building I read about.' Trevor shook his head, "I didn't realize you were a franchise."

"Not quite, as my businesses are only open when I am there, and I am only there when I am needed. I am what you call a traveling proprietor. For instance, I will not return here for another two years, 6 months, three weeks, and a day and yes, in this generation the term used for my business is a pharmacy."

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"That's oddly specific," Trevor chuckled whilst trying to do the calculations. "You won't be back until October... 12th in... two years?"

"Yes, that is when I will be needed next in this city," the woman nodded. "Now what ails a young lad such as yourself? Though I do not offer modern medicine, my elixirs will cure the ailment in a single use, and encompass a wider berth of afflictions. I have potions for hair regrowth, weight loss, various changes in personality, cosmetic enhancements, stamina, love, as well as cures for a myriad of..."

Trevor's eyes lit up, chock full of excitement, and interrupted, "Did you say love?"

"That's how you found me?" The quizzical statement reflected how rare a young adolescent would be able to enter her shop for the purposes of love. "How old are you?"

Trevor let out a hopeful, "Eighteen."

The woman's better judgment quickly won out. "Absolutely not. People of your age easily confuse love and lust. She would love you forever while you would leave her once you got in her pants. It is asinine to think that someone..." The woman violently turned her head to the right, her eyes fierce with fury, "You can wait your turn and be quiet doing it. I am having a conversation."

Trevor was about to rebuke the "leave her" statement - he could never leave Bella, not ever, but the sudden change in demeanor of the woman, as if she were speaking to someone else, gave him pause. He looked to his left and saw nothing.

After a moment, the woman's eyes narrowed even further, "I do not care, an eighteen-year-old is not..." The woman stopped, appearing as if she were interrupted.

The woman's face softened, "Really? That is truly unfortunate."

"He has?" The woman responded a moment later. "I will verify his soul." The woman's right arm lifted toward Trevor, her palm out. After a fraction of time, her fingers started caressing, coddling the air.

Trevor couldn't move, in awe at the sensations. He felt as if he was being intimately touched in the most delicate manner. The hairs on his skin percolated upward at the gentle brushings to his... what? He didn't know.

As the woman continued, a white light seemed to burst from Trevor's chest, causing a cascade of tears to trickle from her eyes. She took a deep breath, relishing in the glow before shaking her hand away and lowering her arm.

All was as it was.

It took Trevor a solid minute before the world around him came back into focus. He felt at his chest with both hands before sliding them down and around his body, "What was that?"

The woman wiped her eyes, offering a small giggle to her revelation. "It is not often that a pure white soul comes from the loins of a pure black soul, which houses a minimum of four of the seven deadly sins, such as your Father." She knew this boy was rare as he was the incarnate of all seven of the heavenly virtues.

Trevor stared into the haze of the piercing eyes of the woman, holding all that he was once again, only this time he felt the compassion she felt for him, "My Father?"

"Yes." The woman moved back toward the center counter, Trevor following in rapt interest. "It is not often a black soul, who lived life by the vices of wrath, greed, lust, and pride can change my opinion of someone, but that just proves we are always learning. "You have my sympathies, Trevor Thompson. Your life has been tremendously difficult; from the loss of your mother at childbirth to the heinous abusiveness of your father who died in a drunken rage, and now your current predicament with your selfish Stepmother."

"How do you know..."

"Regardless of my personal feelings concerning you," The woman continued while pulling an old, empty wine bottle as well as a piece of parchment from behind the counter and placing them carefully on the wooden top, "I will not give you an elixir of love. I will, however, bestow this recipe upon you. If you follow each instruction, each ingredient exactly, you will have your potion. But I must warn you, if you succeed, you must take responsibility."

Trevor took hold of the bottle, investigating the black glass and cork with admiration for its quality. He then carefully picked up the parchment; he could feel how brittle age had made it. He gently put the paper inside a notebook in his backpack before sliding the bottle inside as well. For the first time, his eyes pierced back at the woman, striking a deep sincerity, "I promise." It was an easy promise to make.

The woman gave a soft smile, "I believe you." She moved around the counter and gave a soft shove to Trevor's back, urging him toward the door. "Come along now, I have a schedule to keep."

"But wait, how did you know all about me, what about my Father?" Trevor tried to halt his footsteps, but somehow couldn't.

"Perhaps if we meet again, Mr. Thompson," the woman guided Trevor out the door. "Good day, Sir, and do not fret, I will take care of your Stepmother." The door shut with a hard thud.

Trevor turned, "Wait, please, I have so many..." He then realized he was speaking to nobody. The lights were off, the door locked, the sign turned to closed, and, as he peered through the window, all he saw was dust. No counters, no antique flasks or bottles, and certainly not a trace of the woman proprietor. "That was... odd."

*

Google was Trevor's best friend. After he left the antique pharmacy, Trevor made his way to one of the few places he had peace, the Hilldale Public Library. Usually he read, any and every subject was within his realm, but today he scoured the internet to research the twenty-seven ingredients listed to find what they actually were. His notes led him to discover most were some sort of plant, herb, or fruit that had some sort of psychoactive properties. The effects were far-ranging from being stimulants, others gave heightened awareness, some induced happy, trance-like states, several had aphrodisiac qualities, while others were deliriant and hallucinogenic in nature. Several ingredients acted as binding agents, but the last ingredient gave him pause... four options to decide what he wanted from his love.

"I'll figure that out when I get there." Trevor sighed as he went to work trying to procure all the substances. First was raw honey, which he needed to ferment with the psychoactive fruits to transform it into a wine before mixing in the rest of the ingredients.

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It took several hours. Some of the ingredients were easy enough to find and order, while others required visiting unsecured websites that Trevor hoped didn't get him in trouble with the library.

*

Savannah was bored. She had an hour to kill before she was to meet with her friends at the club, a rarity that she was done getting ready early, let alone on time, but she already had her platinum blonde hair done to perfection from her trip to her stylist earlier and her manicured nails and professionally applied makeup shown of her prior appointments. All it took was to squeeze her surgically enhanced ass and tits into her new black skin tight, plunging to her waist neckline, barely covering her posterior latex dress and strap on her matching black stilettos and she was ready... and now bored.

A small smile percolated Savannah's ruby-red lips as she quickly knew what to do. 'Let's see what I can take from Dickless.'

From as far back as Savannah could remember, it was one of her favorite pastimes. Was it that she could claim whatever she wanted, even if she didn't even want it? Perhaps it was how helpless Trevor looked when he found out?

It was both.

Savannah stepped outside the garage and turned up the wooden staircase to Trevor's abode. Near the top, her stiletto caught in between the planks.

"Shit!" Savannah yelled at the surprise twisting of her ankle. She grasped the railing in time to not fall backward before assessing the damage. The heel had snapped clean off. "That Fucktard is going to regret this!" Her key easily slid into the keyhole, and she pushed the door open hard enough to slam into the wall, putting a hole into the drywall. She stepped inside, her hand swiping at the bookshelf that was to her immediate left. "Oops." Her laugh was sinister as the books crashed to the hardwood floor. Her mission: destruction.

*

Trevor was walking leisurely until he came upon his house, at which point stealth became his priority. It was always best not to be seen by his "family". He walked on the outside of the trees that lined the driveway until he could make it to the small clearing near the garage before running to the wooden staircase that led to his loft.

That was the plan until halfway up the driveway, Trevor noticed the light was on in his loft. "Great, what does Savannah want to steal from me this time." He immediately ran in hopes of stopping her from pilfering anything but went even faster when he heard several loud crashes.

"What are you doing, Savannah?" Trevor half yelled so he could be heard over his microwave hitting the floor, his face a mask of hopelessness and helplessness at the sight of carnage.

Savannah turned with a sneer, before stalking toward her prey, "You Piece of Shit, Asshat! You broke my Prada high heels. You owe me $1800 to replace them," she finished by pushing her index finger into Trevor's chest. Hard.

"What?" Trevor flustered, floundering under the scrutiny of the lie. "I didn't do..."

"Yes you did, and now you're going to pay!" Savannah interrupted before kicking Trevor in the groin. "You better clean up this pigsty, Mom will throw your worthless Ass out if she knew you kept her rental like this." She stepped around Trevor's panting, husk of a body and strode out the door. She should be only five minutes late for her friends after she changes her high heels, "Worth it." As she walked through the house, she called her Mother.

*

Trevor had crumpled to the floor, holding his private area while gasping for breath. The pain throbbed, and he could swear he could see the stars in his perfectly lit loft.

It took several minutes for the pain to subside, and just as it did, his phone rang.

"Hello Ms. Thompson," Trevor sighed.

"You broke Savannah's high heel, you ingrate," his Stepmother's voice fumed with authority. "I expect you to pay her $2000 by next Friday." Selena took a quick sip of her Rum Punch as she sat in her lounge chair soaking up the last of the sun. "I swear, I cannot take a well-deserved cruise to the Caribbean without you doing something to that poor girl." She then eyed the muscled lifeguard through her large sunglasses with a hungry stare, while he stared at the platinum blonde's surgically enhanced tits that were only covered by a pink string bikini lustfully. Selena didn't even notice the black-haired woman with indescribable features carefully placing a refill of her drink that she didn't order onto the glass table next to her lounge chair while taking away the near-empty glass.

"But I didn't..." Trevor tried to interject.

"Since you refuse to take responsibility for your actions, let's just make this price increase a permanent part of your rent, due the first of every month," Selena finalized the conversation by hanging up, her cares lying elsewhere. Her manicured hand glided over pure muscle while her other reached for her drink.

Trevor shook his head in irritation as he pulled himself off the floor. He dejectedly picked up his microwave and set it on the counter before his phone rang again.

"Hey, Bella," Trevor's voice perked up, and it always amazed him how just talking with her could have that effect on him. "How was the date?"

"Well, you already know Theo isn't my dream guy," Bella's voice went forlorn for a brief moment before shrugging it off, "but he was nice enough. We went to Archie's Diner after school before going to see a movie."

"Whoever your dream guy is better stop being an idiot real soon," Trevor shook his head at how dense this mystery man was and could only wish Bella thought of him that way. "We graduate in two months."

"Yeah," Bella intoned her frustration. "But if it's meant to be, it'll happen eventually." She then added in a whisper, "I hope."

"Time will tell," Trevor offered his friend. "So, how are classes going?" Yes, changing the subject away from his loves love life always made their conversations less painful.

Trevor and Bella talked for hours on the phone, each going over the other's events of the week. Humor and laughter came frequently between the two, culminating in Bella's Father demanding she get off the phone for being too loud. It was 1:30 in the morning.

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