You Cant Resist It

"You really should have let well enough alone, darling." His voice drips with smug triumph, sneering condescension condensing onto every syllable as it falls from his thin-lipped, smirking mouth. "I understand that Miss Grant is your closest friend, and I'm sure you felt like you had a moral obligation to extricate her from her current circumstances. But believe me when I say that you're going to wish... profoundly and all too briefly... that you'd simply given up on her rather than choose your current rash course of action." It's not rash at all, but he doesn't know that. Not yet.

He cups my chin, his slender alabaster fingers pressing firmly but not painfully into my bronze flesh as he straps my head into position in the chair. Behind him, Ellie stares at the two of us with rapt, vacant devotion in her bright blue eyes; the mask is gone now, and it's blatantly obvious that she no longer has a will of her own. She's mindlessly, helplessly dedicated to fulfilling Doctor DeVere's commands, and if I ever had any hope that she might snap out of her trance and free me, it's dead now. But of course I didn't. If I thought she was capable of escaping her conditioning, I would never have come here in the first place.

"There we go," he mutters, almost to himself, as he buckles the last of the nylon straps into position to completely immobilize my head. "Not too much longer, dear, just a few more minor calibrations and we'll be ready to begin. I'm sure you're planning to resist, to pit your will against my skill and talent in adjusting the human consciousness, but please don't imagine that it'll affect the final outcome. Struggle all you want--physically and mentally. It doesn't matter. The end result is inevitable." Behind him, Ellie's head bobs up and down in absent compliance, agreeing with an opinion she wasn't even consulted on. Her hand drifts down between her porcelain thighs, rewarding herself for her mindless acceptance with slow, lazy masturbation. I doubt she even realizes she's doing it.

DeVere lowers a projector from the ceiling, concealed behind a hidden panel that's indistinguishable from the bland acoustic tiles around it. I'm quietly impressed by his operation, not that I'd ever let him know; to the casual observer, this looks as indistinguishable from any other dentist's office as 'Connor DeVere' does from any other dentist. Even when I came here with Ellie, I never noticed the cunningly concealed restraints built into the chair. I didn't spot the soundproofing behind the soothing powder blue wallpaper. I had no idea that the unlabeled silver cylinder connected to the gas mask contained not nitrous oxide but a far more potent and fast-acting tranquilizer. And neither did Ellie... which is how she came to be his mindless, obedient slave.

"There's no resisting, you see. Not against this." He scrubs the back of my hand briefly with an alcohol wipe, and I feel the briefest sting as he inserts a thin needle before hooking it up to an IV stand that was hidden in the supply closet until just a few minutes ago. "It's not just hypnosis, pretty girl; it's a full-spectrum brainwashing experience that incorporates decades of research in neurology, psychology, endocrinology... I don't expect you to understand. Ellie's informed me that you're majoring in English Literature. But trust me, I'm an expert on mandating compliance." He chuckles. "More than you could possibly know."

I do my best to hide a smirk of my own. He has no idea how much I really know. He did an amazing job of scrubbing the search results for his image, but I wasn't about to let it go once I realized what was happening to Ellie. I kept taking photos of him surreptitiously every time I came here with her, ignoring her increasingly overt deference and submission in favor of getting a good shot of DeVere's face that I could use to hunt him down on the Internet. I finally got lucky about a month ago, scrolling down an endless number of pictures of smug white men until I found an obscure report from a conference on psychology from seven years ago where he was sixth from left in a group of scientists. The caption below it read, 'Bryce Hampton, Lia Douglass, Kore Yokahama, Lin Chao, Calvin Frank, Dover Conal and Kim Imahara attend the 5th Annual Providence Conference on Behaviorism in Rhode Island'.

Once I found his real name, it wasn't hard to figure out how Dover Conal became Connor DeVere. The scandal at the University of Maine couldn't be covered up, not once the charges were filed and the messy details of Conal's experiments became part of the court record. Again, they tried their level best to scrub the search engines, but the wonderful thing about that unusual name was that there were so few results you could bury it under. When I knew what I was looking for, I found his obituary without any real difficulties. I don't know whose body they really found, but I suspect that DeVere had no trouble convincing someone to die in his stead. That should chill me to the bone, but nothing about this man frightens me now.

My train of thought is interrupted by a cool, faintly discomfiting sensation that flows up my hand to my arm. "The drug disrupts activity in the frontal lobe, impairing cognition and inhibiting critical thought," he says, adjusting the flow of the intravenous solution into my veins. "You're going to find very shortly that directing your consciousness to focus on any one thing will become difficult, then impossible. You'll be easily distracted by repetitive visual stimuli, and your limbic system will wind up attempting to take up the slack from the parts of your brain that are out of commission. But since those regions mainly concern themselves with emotional responses, and the experience you're about to have will be... highly pleasant." He pauses. Turns. Heads to the supply closet again.

When he returns, it's with a pair of very sharp dressmaker's shears. With a few rapid snips, he cuts away my jeans from the waist down to the knee, everywhere he can reach without unbuckling my restraints. I'm still a little surprised he didn't strip me naked while he had me unconscious earlier, but I suppose his top priority was getting me into the chair and getting me strapped in. The sedative he used acted swiftly, but it wore off just as quick. Better to make sure I couldn't escape than to risk a nude woman sprinting out of his office and screaming bloody murder.

Not that it would have mattered if I had. I've been watching DeVere's office for weeks now, keeping careful track of his regular patients. The mayor comes in almost daily, ditto with the chief of police--I checked down at City Hall, he has an exclusive contract to perform dental work on virtually all city employees. And his 'social connections' with the mayor have given him access to many influential state politicians. I'd have to go to the FBI to find someone who hadn't fallen under his influence, and even then I couldn't be sure. He's a lot more cautious than he was back when he was caught in Maine, and a good deal more skilled as well. I knew before I came in here that I couldn't stop him through legal channels. Luckily, that isn't my plan.

He straightens up, removing a panel of fabric that leaves my thighs and pubic area exposed. A couple of final snips, and my panties fall away as well. It's more than a little humiliating to see that they're soaking wet. "Don't worry, sweetie," he coos, giving my vulva a condescending pat. "It takes some young women like that. Whatever your conscious mind might be telling you about what's going to happen, there's a certain amount of social conditioning to view bondage and hypnosis as sexual activities. And the parasympathetic nervous system controls those responses, not the forebrain. What you think you want doesn't enter into anything that's going on right now." He has no idea how wrong he is, but I'm not about to tell him that. Not when everything is going just as I planned it.

He returns the dressmaker's shears to the supply closet, and comes back with a hot pink bullet vibrator with a long, floppy antenna on the end that resembles a tail. "As I was saying. Pleasant." He reaches down between my labia and begins to stimulate my clit, rubbing and teasing my pussy until I'm a slick and dripping mess or arousal before slipping the toy into my soaking cunt. "It's synchronized to the brainwashing program, you see," he murmurs, wiping his fingers on the tattered remains of my pants. "You're going to experience intense sexual pleasure every time you see one of the suggestions. With your cognition disrupted by the drug, all you'll really be able to understand is how that instruction makes you feel... and it's going to make you feel very good, pretty girl. Very good indeed."

He taps a button on the projector, and I tense in the chair as a vigorous buzz erupts from the small toy tucked away inside me. I've used vibrators before, but there's something indescribable about having one used on me by a stranger like this. To say nothing of the ultimate goal behind the pleasure that I'm utterly helpless to resist--to break my will and turn me into a mindless, compliant sex slave like Ellie. She's still masturbating, an almost beatific light of devotion in her eyes as she teases her drooling cunt for Doctor DeVere. I wonder if she's getting off even harder because she betrayed me. I wonder if that's what's making her so very, very wet right now.

"Almost ready," he says, pushing a ball gag into my mouth before sliding a pair of headphones over my ears. I don't know why he's bothering with the gag--I've been coming here with Ellie for almost a year now, since she first took advantage of his 'special student rate' and fell into his clutches, and I never heard so much as a whimper. He must have been fucking her that entire time, I realize. Every single one of those weekly visits must have ended with him emptying his balls into her wet, compliant pussy, fucking her over and over and over again until his cum dripped out of her slick cunt and she lay in the chair with a blank, blissful expression on her face and nothing in her head but her conditioning. Her resistance was gone by the end of that first session. He didn't need to reinforce it. He just loved using his mindless slut.

I wonder why it took the threat of exposure to make him decide to add me to his stable of slaves. Was it because my parents were local? Because my campus job required a bit more thought and initiative than Ellie's retail drudgery? Or did he simply look past Ellie's flat-chested, biracial friend without a second thought, eager to get his hands on his slave's big cow tits and perfect bubble butt? I realize my thoughts have slipped from one topic to another to another until I'm just staring at Ellie's constantly rubbing fingers while I daydream about Doctor DeVere groping and squeezing her pendulous breasts, but I can't seem to focus anymore. The drugs are doing their work. I'm going to be brainwashed soon.

"I really don't know what you thought you could achieve, confronting me in my own office like this," he sighs, turning on the projector and aligning the strobing, hypnotic beam with my eyes. "You deduced what I'd done to Miss Grant, you discovered my true identity and figured out that I'd already suborned the local police force... surely you must have known what I was capable of. Did you think you would simply sweep me away with the force of your righteousness? Did you imagine that somehow you'd be immune to my brainwashing techniques? Because I can assure you, my darling girl, that whatever resistance you think you can summon... it won't be enough."

I'm grateful for the ball gag. It stretches my mouth so wide that he can't see me smiling right now. He still doesn't know my plan. He doesn't know that I expected this to happen when I came here today. Of course I know I can't resist. I planted a hidden camera in this office months ago, I've seen dozens of his 'patients' sink into pleasure until their minds dissolved into sweet, vacant obedience. I've watched him take victim after victim after victim, each time flawlessly capturing their wills and turning them into helpless, masturbating puppets like Ellie. I've seen all the ways he's used them, men and women alike, for his depraved sexual desires.

And now, at last, it's my turn. I won't have to just watch anymore; I'll finally get to live out all my fantasies of being Doctor DeVere's obedient, submissive fucktoy. The vibrator begins to buzz into action as the hidden text in the hypnotic lights begins to etch itself into my brain. He still doesn't know that this was all my idea, that I've been aching for this moment ever since I first noticed Ellie's odd behavior and began to suspect that she was being brainwashed into compliance. And now my plan is finally coming together. I can't resist this... but that's my secret. I never intended to try.

THE END