Chapter 12

Seb ladled another helping of punch into his cup, the thrumming bass from the speakers causing the neon liquid to ripple. He could feel it in his chest too, pounding between heartbeats, an arrhythmic pulse in his veins.

As if he wasn’t jumpy enough.

His drink refreshed, he hovered at the edge of the crowded basement bar, his eyes fixed on the nearby stairs. He regretted giving Kate a waiting period. While at the time it seemed wise to space out their exits, it was obvious now that ten minutes was far too long. Without anywhere else to go or anyone to speak to, all Seb could do was worry. And drink. Past the point where the booze became a boon, and into the zone where the restlessness set in, where his racing thoughts and the Vox’s whispers blended into a pacing, circular monologue.

What if she didn’t come? She would—his power was unquestionable. But what if she didn’t? How could that be? Didn’t Seb see the emptiness in her eyes? Hear the slurred submission in her voice? But suppose she got lost? What if she didn’t know where the basement was? Or if her friends held her up? Then he would have to go back upstairs and assert his claim. And, what, just hypnotize everyone standing in his way? If that’s what it took, then…

Seb’s scanning eyes captured a glimpse of purple hair in the line of people descending the stairs. His heart leapt, and he quickly slammed the rest of the drink, sugar and anticipation tingling on his tongue.

There she was: her heavy-lidded eyes staring straight ahead, her arms hanging to her sides. Her steps were heavy and languid, as though she had to use all her weight just to work up the momentum to move, her hefty breasts bouncing each time. Any casual spectator would probably conclude she was drunk out of her mind.

When in reality, her mind was his.

“Kate,” Seb called, crossing to meet her.

She turned, her pupils dilating as they met his, the ghost of a smile playing on her lips. “Hey…” she breathed. “You’re here…”

Seb gently grabbed her bare arm, guiding her away from the crowd. Her skin felt cool and soft. “Just like I promised,” he murmured. “I’m happy to see you. Are you happy to see me?”

“Huh?” Kate’s brow furrowed. “What?”

An icy rush of doubt jolted Seb, but he managed to maintain his composure. “I asked if you were happy to see me,” he repeated, raising his voice. “You are, aren’t you?”

“Oh…yeah,” she giggled, embarrassed. “Sorry, it’s like…so loud. It’s distracting y’know?”

Seb winced internally. Of course. This was why he hadn’t gone after girls on the dance floor. The relentless music was clogging Kate’s ears, making it harder for the Vox to flow into her brain. It was such an obvious pitfall, but in his anxious, inebriated haste, he had stumbled right into it. Reinforcing Kate’s trance here would be no good: having her attention constantly diverted would only make it easier for her to realize something was amiss. Seb could try shouting, but broadcasting the Vox that broadly was exhausting, and might attract attention.

Fortunately, it seemed like Kate was still at least partially under his sway. And…he just realized she was still staring into his eyes.

“You can still see the colors, can’t you?” he asked as the realization struck.

“Huh?”

“The colors! In my eyes!” Seb exclaimed, daring to drop the Vox and hope.

“Yeah…they’re cool…” Kate nodded. “So…pretty…”

Seb smiled. The hallucination he had planted earlier was still in effect. Even if she couldn’t hear the Vox clearly, she was still entranced by his gaze. That would do, for now, but he needed to get her somewhere quieter.

And far, far more private.

“That’s good,” Seb shouted, interlocking his hand with hers. “Just keep thinking about the colors and follow me!”

Sophia stumbled out into the night air, shivering and clutching her bare shoulders. She was reeling, in more ways than one. Not only had she just confessed to Chelsea about the other voice, but she had also somehow managed to get on Veronica’s bad side. At least, that’s what Sophia assumed: it certainly felt like the mocha-skinned beauty had been shooting her daggers all night.

Were they talking about her now? Did Veronica suspect Sophia’s background was false? Sophia had done her best to play the part Chelsea had given her, but between all the free booze and rotating cast of rich frat friends, Sophia’s head hadn’t stopped spinning since she left the apartment. Had she slipped up somewhere along the way?

Maybe she was overthinking things; after all, if walking straight was proving challenging, was it any wonder her thoughts were out of line?

If only she could find a bathroom.

How on earth did people survive these parties? Endless amounts of alcohol, but only one or two accessible bathrooms per house, each with its own intimidating line down the hall. At this point, there was no way Sophia would make it to an open toilet in time. Which left her only one option:

The woods.

It wouldn’t be the first time Sophia had to answer nature’s call in nature, but it didn’t make it any less embarrassing. At least the backyard was crowded enough that she wouldn’t stick out. So long as she carefully weaved between the partygoers, stuck to the poorly lit side of the fence, and kept her head down, she should be able to make it to the gate and…

“That’s right, just keep following me.”

Sophia halted in her tracks.

That voice.

Even through the laughter and chatter of the party, even over her own anxious thoughts, that voice rang in her ears like a thousand bells. She didn’t know why, she didn’t know how, but she knew she recognized it in an instant.

Seb was here. And he was close.

Sophia altered her course through the crowd, her heart thundering in her chest. A small voice inside cautioned her to stop. Warned her that seeing Seb this way, in this place, could only lead to disaster. But the echo of his words still pulled her, past any common sense or rational thought. If he was here, she needed to see him. She just…needed to.

Sophia’s breath caught like an icepick in her throat.

Seb was there. Holding hands with some girl Sophia had never seen before. A girl who followed him with a dazed, distant expression, her hips lazily swaying with every step.

And they were heading for the forest.

Sophia’s body went rigid, her muscles stiffening as though paralyzed. A torrent of confusion and hurt crashed through her, sweeping up the memories she had just unearthed for Chelsea, dousing her face with hot, angry tears.

It was cruel. Too cruel to be true. And yet, here was the proof, drifting past her eyes and out the gate. Just when Sophia thought she could right the mistakes of her past, just when she thought she had found a way to mend the wound in her heart, reality reopened it with one swift cut.

So she turned. And ran. Back towards the house she had just came from. Back to the one ally she had left; back to the one woman who would understand.

Chelsea and Veronica were still talking when Sophia arrived. Even as she knew interrupting them could only make things worse, she couldn’t make herself care. She needed Chelsea’s help. Her pity. Her confusion. Her scorn. She needed to feel anything but the hurt pumping through her heart.

“Chelsea!” Sophia called out, sprinting for the patio with renewed desperation.

“Wh-what happened?” Chelsea exclaimed, barely audible to Sophia over her own panting breath.

“It’s Seb!” she managed to choke out. “I saw him! He’s here!”

Sophia’s words hit Chelsea like lightening, paralyzing her heart for several beats before she could speak. “Wh-what are you talking about?” she finally stammered as Sophia struggled up the patio steps.

“I s-saw Seb g-go into the woods,” the drunk girl babbled, grasping Chelsea’s shoulders for support. “And, and, h-he was with another girl.”

Chelsea’s eyes widened. Her already racing mind kicked into overdrive, trying desperately to process this new information. Master was at this party? With someone else? This didn’t fit into her calculations at all. Even with his recent boldness hypnotizing her in the coffee shop, he didn’t seem like the sort who would show up at a party like this, much less with a girl in tow. Was she some squeeze of his that Chelsea had somehow overlooked? Or…had he used the Vox to acquire a new subject?

“I-it’s okay,” Chelsea exhaled, as much to herself as Sophia. “We’ll figure this out.”

“Figure what out?” Veronica demanded, looking like she was considering shoving Sophia over the patio railing. “What is going on?”

Chelsea met her best friend’s eyes. Already, she regretted what she would have to do next. Veronica didn’t deserve to be treated this way—didn’t deserve to be manipulated and marginalized like so many other useful acquaintances. But Chelsea didn’t have a choice. She had to find out what Master was up to. Otherwise, this entire night—no, the entire game—might be lost.

So she put on her best pained expression. Let a note of pleading enter her voice. Wore the guilt she felt as visibly as she dared. And did what she had to.

“I’m sorry, Vern,” she said. “I promise I’ll explain everything soon. But I have to go.”

“What?” Veronica sputtered. “How—why…?”

Chelsea was already making the next move, gently extracting herself from Sophia’s grasp and looking deep into her eyes. “Soph, you stay with Veronica. I’ll go check this out. Okay?”

“O-okay,” the teetering Latina sniffed, letting her arms fall.

“Chelsea, wait!” Veronica called.

Chelsea allowed one last apologetic glance over her shoulder, trying her best to communicate how sorry she really was. Then it was off to the races, sprinting down the patio steps and onto the yard, abandoning all concerns of propriety or poise. Now, there was only one goal in mind:

Master.

He was here. And he was making moves. Moves that had eluded even Chelsea’s imagination. That thought sent an excited rush through her veins. She ran even faster, practically bowling over other partygoers as she dashed for the fence. Even as she longed for submission to Master, there was still a part of her that had feared he wasn’t a proper match, that he lacked the cunning and courage to use her to her full potential. But now…if he was up to what Chelsea suspected he was up to…perhaps she had underestimated him once again. How perfect. Nothing was more arousing than when Master knocked her off balance.

Not that she would ever make it easy for him.

Chelsea slowed as she reached the edge of the trees, wary of the sounds her feet would make against the freshly fallen leaves. Moonlight danced between half-bare branches as she snuck through the undergrowth, revealing glimpses of fall colors in the darkness. She paused behind a thick oak, her senses open and alert. Even the tiny ridges of the trunk felt vivid and sharp to the touch, every inch of her poised and ready, searching for any sign of Master.

Then she heard it. Tickling her ears on a cool autumn breeze.

The Vox.

In an instant, it felt like her entire body snapped to attention. Master’s power shivered down her flesh, causing even her heart to quiver with anticipation. She couldn’t make out the words he was speaking, but that didn’t matter—she trailed his voice like a siren’s call, a familiar melody beckoning her to where she belonged.

“That’s good. I think this is a good spot, don’t you?”

A glimpse of another girl snapped Chelsea out of her half-daze, reminding her to stay hidden. She quickly ducked behind another tree, silently cursing her carelessness. Maybe it was the orgasm withdrawal, or maybe she was more brainwashed than she thought—either way, even hearing the Vox second-hand had been enough to almost entrance her. If she hoped to subvert Master’s plans here, she would need all of her willpower and strength.

“I…guess…” she heard the other girl murmur. “Where…are we?”

Chelsea exhaled, honing her focus to a sharp point. Finally, when she was confident she wouldn’t give herself away, she hazarded a peek around the tree trunk, hoping to complete her reconnaissance.

There they were. Standing in a clearing mere meters ahead, surrounded by shafts of silver light. Master’s V-neck shirt clung to his slender body, a familiar, cunning glint in his eyes as he brushed a violet strand of hair from his victim’s face. She didn’t seem to notice the motion, didn’t respond immediately to his touch. Her drooping eyes were fixed on his, her long lashes fluttering periodically as she struggled to stay cognizant, even as her prominent chest heaved with slow, sleepy breaths.

“That doesn’t matter,” Master purred. “We just want to feel good and relaxed, don’t we?”

“Yesss…” the girl breathed, offering no resistance as Master lifted her chin with his finger.

Chelsea bit her lip, worried her hands would tear the bark free if she gripped it any tighter. Heat and desire flushed her cheeks and soaked her panties, so quickly it felt instinctual. But she had to fight it. She couldn’t…she wouldn’t…

“Just look into deeper into my eyes,” Master intoned. “You like that don’t you? All those colors. So pretty. So captivating.”

“Colors…” The girl repeated, a dazed smile spreading on her lips.

Fuck. Even at this distance, even though she knew he wasn’t speaking to her, Chelsea found her eyes drawn to Master’s. They were so…pretty…and…captivating...

Master smiled. “Now watch as those colors swirl. Try to follow them as they twirl and spiral, feel them pulling you deeper and deeper…”

“Deeper and….deeeehaah…” the girl’s mouth hung agape, a thin line of drool running from her lips and dribbling down her cleavage.

Chelsea felt her own lips slide open, then quickly clamped her jaw shut, gritting her teeth as hard as she could. No. She would not fall here. Not now. Even if she couldn’t tear her eyes away from Master’s, even if she could feel her nipples stiffen and her muscles relax, she would not give in. She had to carry out her plan. If she could just…grab her phone from her back pocket and…lift it in front of her face, then…

There. The lit screen broke through the trance like a sunbeam through fog. She quickly ducked away, closed her eyes, and dug her nails into her palms, trying to jolt the haze from her brain. No matter what, she needed to stay in reality. She needed to make her next move.

“That’s right,” she heard Master continue, “and as you stare, you can feel your thoughts swirling down the spiral as well. Like water into a drain. Down and down they go. Slipping so easily from your sleepy little head. Because it’s so relaxing not to think. So easy to let those thoughts and worries go. Letting the spiral take them away. Leaving nothing but relaxing, blissful emptiness.”

Even as Chelsea forced herself to open the camera app on her phone, she could feel her free hand sliding down her stomach and beneath her waist, teasing the source of the trembling heat. Wanting…needing…

“And once you feel your mind is empty, once you feel nothing but that wonderful, soothing sensation, I want you to give me a nice, big smile.”

Chelsea was able to stop herself from smiling—that much was a win. Summoning what little courage that gave her, and trying desperately to stop her own fingers from pawing between her thighs, she peeked out again, hitting “record” on her phone as she reviewed the scene.

It was more beautiful and dreadful than Chelsea had feared. Whoever this mystery girl was before Master had spoken, she was gone now. Her face was cradled between Master’s hands, her cheeks smooshed slightly against his palms, drool dribbling freely from her vacant, grinning lips. Her entire body sagged as if he was the only force holding her upright, her eyes no longer fluttering with fight, but unfocused and blank, without a spark of will or thought.

Even just staring at the pair, Chelsea felt her own resistance waning. It took all her concentration just to keep her camera raised, to hold the shot steady. But that meant she could no longer halt the whims of her other hand, could no longer think clearly enough to stop it from unfastening the buttons on her jeans, making it easier to slip her fingers inside her dripping panties and…

Chelsea’s breath hitched. Here? Now? Was she…really going to…?

“That’s good, Kate. Such a pretty smile,” Master murmured, drawing his thumb across the Kate’s shining, sticky lips. “A smile fitting for an empty head. And your head is empty, isn’t it?”

“Yessshh…” Kate slurred.

“Fuck--!” Chelsea hissed to herself as her wicked fingers stroked her soaking folds.

“It’s empty because you are deeply hypnotized,” Master explained. “Being hypnotized is like being in a wonderful, relaxing dream. A dream where nothing can harm or upset you. Where all you have to do is what you’re told. That sounds nice, doesn’t it?”

“Yesshh…” Kate drawled.

“Ye-sss…” Chelsea voice hissed. She bit her tongue, trying to stop any more traitorous noises from leaking out. The thought of being caught right now was terrifying but…also so, so alluring. Oh God, she could just picture it now, could imagine him completely undoing her plans, undoing her mind, reducing her to where Kate was now, a helpless, whimpering slave to his every whim.

“That’s right,” Master stroked Kate’s cheek approvingly. “And I am the Master of this dream. Of your world. Whatever I say, whatever I wish, will become your reality. And then, when you wake up, you will remember nothing but the wonderful, relaxing feelings you felt tonight. Do you understand?”

“Yessh Masshterrr…”

“M-Master…” Chelsea pleaded, circling her clit, drawing her body into a rhythm not her own. It was a losing battle—she recognized that much. But if she could just keep her camera arm still…if she could just hold out for a little while longer…

“That’s right. Now. Take off your clothes.”

Kate obeyed without hesitation, even as her body swayed unsteadily from Master’s grasp. She peeled her tank-top over her head, smiling as she tossed the garment aside and shook her hair back into place. She slipped her bra straps from her shoulders next, allowing her heavy tits to spill free, spots of drool glistening against the soft flesh. Her tiny nipples stood hard and eager, swaying slightly as she bent over to remove her jeans, a hypnotic display in its own right.

Chelsea was faltering. She could feel it. Her fingers pumped her gushing pussy. Waves of pleasure built but never broke, her release unattainable without Master’s command. Her dimming thoughts spun in a vicious cycle of humiliation and hunger. She had come here to get one over Master, yet here he was, controlling her without even meaning too. He didn’t even need to try anymore—Chelsea’s own body had turned against her. It was a horrible realization. And she couldn’t…stop…masturbating to it.

Kate stood up straight, naked and shivering. Her eyes stared at nothing, but her body instinctively listed Master’s direction as he circled behind her. She gasped as his hands wrapped around her, grasping her breasts as he kissed her neck, pulling her close to pour more whispered words into her ear, her body shuddering and shaking with bliss, her hands pawing clumsily, uselessly at the bulging erection pressed against her ass.

Chelsea felt the phone slide from her fingers, falling in a cushion of leaves below. But she didn’t care. Her hand was now free to tear open her blouse. To knead her own needy breasts. To imagine it was her Master was taking. That she was the mindless slut at his beck and call.

God. She was close. So close.

“Kneel.” Master commanded.

Kate obeyed.

Chelsea’s knees buckled, but she forced herself against the tree, some final spark of willpower determined to keep her upright, if not in mind, then in body.

“Good girl,” Master said. “You may cum.”

It was too much.

Chelsea shrieked as her body erupted.

The cry hit Seb like a torrent of icy water, nearly knocking him off-balance.

“Wh-who’s there?” he demanded, waves of panic pushing the Vox back inside him, causing his voice to crack. He searched the surrounding trees for a source, but the foreign scream had blended with Kate’s cry of pleasure, masking the interloper’s location.

Fortunately, Kate didn’t seem troubled by this. She remained kneeling naked at his feet, too empty-headed to do anything but pant with pleasure and await his next command.

So Seb waited. And listened. If somebody was watching him, there was no way they could leave without making a sound. As long as he caught them before they left the woods, he could use the Vox to make sure they didn’t remember a thing. Or, the sinister voice inside him pressed, maybe if it was one of Kate’s girlfriends, she could join in on the fun…

Something prickled the edge of his hearing. It sounded like heavy breathing. And it was coming from a towering tree not more than a few meters away. He took a cautious step towards the sound, only for a twig to snap under his shoe.

“Stop!” A girl’s voice called from behind the thick trunk. “I-it’s Sophia!”

Seb’s blood ran cold. The Vox, which had just begun creeping back out, quickly shrank back as terror seized his throat and squeezed his lungs. “S-Sophia?” he stammered in a strained whisper, only to belatedly realize…that wasn’t what her voice sounded like. It sounded more like…

“N-not another word,” Chelsea said, shaking slightly as she stepped into the clearing. She held her phone in front of her like a magic talisman, the shining display turned towards Seb. And…she was in quite the state.

Her jeans were unbuttoned and opened, revealing a hint of dark red panties. Her blouse was disheveled and wrinkled, the collar open wide, displaying her prominent bust cradled by a push-up bra. In some ways, it looked like Seb had interrupted her in some lewd act, not the other way around.

Seb blinked, paralyzed by a rush of conflicting emotions: relief that it wasn’t really Sophia who had found him; anger and arousal that it was Chelsea instead; and most of all confusion regarding the whole scenario. Why was she here? What did she want? And…hold on, how did she know about Sophia?

Seb opened his mouth to speak.

“Ah!” Chelsea shouted, shoving the phone further in front of her. “Don’t try to use the Vox. If I even feel a whisper of it in my head, I’ll send this video to Sophia.”

Seb’s eyes widened. Now that Chelsea was closer, he could clearly see what was on her screen: a video thumbnail of Kate stripped and submissive at his feet, locked and loaded in a text addressed to Sophia, with Chelsea’s finger hovering perilously close to the “send” button.

Cold horror and disgust churned in Seb’s stomach. He slowly raised his hands in surrender, daring not to even breathe too quickly.

Chelsea smirked. “You can speak if you want now,” she said. “But only normal words. And don’t try to talk to your new slut either.”

Seb cleared his throat. “H-how did you find me?” he asked.

“I have my ways,” Chelsea replied. “You’re not nearly as sneaky as you think, you know.”

Seb’s eyes narrowed. “And Sophia? How do you know her?”

“Like I said, you’re not as sneaky as you think,” Chelsea taunted, slowly circling him. “Trying to erase my memory of her was a bold move. But if you’re gonna make a play that risky, you might want to make sure it pays off.”

Seb tracked her orbit with a glower as his mind spun through possibilities. Had he actually messed up the mind-wipe? At the time, it certainly seemed like Chelsea had been completely under his power. If she really did remember their coffee shop encounter, why was he only now finding out? The Chelsea he knew would’ve definitely raised hell a lot sooner, especially if she knew she could fight back against his memory manipulation.

“How much do you remember?” Seb asked, hoping his neutral tone wouldn’t force her hand.

“E-enough to be pissed off!” Chelsea countered, waving the phone at him like a loaded gun. “Now shut up. It’s my turn to ask some questions.”

Seb bit his tongue. As he had suspected, it seemed Chelsea’s bravado was in some ways a bluff. But he couldn’t risk testing it now—he would have to play her game until an opening presented itself.

“So…” the blonde continued, eyes darting towards Kate. “Who’s your new toy?”

“Just some girl I met at this party,” Seb answered. “Her name’s Kate. I don’t know anything beyond that.”

“Huh,” Chelsea’s eyebrows arched in exaggerated surprise. “I could’ve sworn you hated the thought of turning girls into sex slaves. So what changed? Is it the hair? I could add some color to mine, if you want.”

Seb grit his teeth. “It’s…complicated.”

“Well either you explain it to me, or to Sophia. Your call, Master,” she added with a cheeky wink.

Seb took a deep breath, trying to align his trembling thoughts. All the rationalizations and explanations he had told himself now seemed facile and incoherent, not nearly enough to stop the apocalypse Chelsea was threatening him with. Still, he had to try.

“Look,” he began, forcing his voice to stay low and level. “The Vox isn’t just something I can turn on and off like a light. It has…desires of its own. And if I don’t…do something about them, it gets harder and harder to control.”

“Sounds rough,” Chelsea quipped. “If only there was a willing subject you could turn to. One who has been very explicit about her own desires, I might add.”

“I told you, I’m not going to enslave you,” Seb growled. “It wouldn’t be right.”

The blonde scoffed. “And turning Kate into your personal party pet is?”

“It’s different,” Seb insisted. “I don’t…brainwash them for life or anything. I just…make them feel good so they’ll help me.”

Chelsea frowned. “Is that really the best justification you can come up with?”

“I-it’s just for one night!” Seb protested. Somehow, his heart was beating even faster. Why was he getting so flustered? “Plenty of guys go to parties to seduce girls—how is this any different?”

“I think you know,” Chelsea countered. “And I think that’s why you told Kate not to remember any of it.”

Seb growled with frustration. “It’s easy for you to talk like this. You’re not the one with a monster in your head.”

For a moment, Chelsea hesitated, a shadow passing over her expression. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” she said.

“Then tell me: what the hell am I supposed to do?!”

“You could start by taking some fucking responsibility!” Chelsea shouted.

Seb flinched, his mouth gaping uselessly, unable to form a response. Chelsea’s gaze burned into his, her pupils no longer brimming with playful condescension, but cold, vindictive fury.

“I know it’s not easy for you,” she admitted. “I know what it’s like to have…feelings and desires that make you do things you regret. But that doesn’t mean they’re not a part of you. You keep talking about the Vox like it’s this…other thing. Like it has nothing to do with you or your feelings. But we both know that’s not true. The Vox IS YOU, Seb. It came from you, and you decide how to use it. You were the one who hypnotized me—not the Vox. You were the one who told me to send you nudes, who made me ignore my mother and suck your cock. You were the one who wanted me humiliated and submissive. You were the one who wanted me to call you Master. And the crazy thing is, I wanted it too!”

Seb took a step back, his mind reeling. But Chelsea wasn’t finished. She moved closer, her voice becoming dangerously quiet. “But you didn’t want what came with that, did you?” she asked. “You didn’t want the consequences or commitment my submission would bring. You didn’t want to confront what these desires said about you, about us. So instead you ran. Back to a childhood dream you told yourself you could relive, and to quick fixes you told yourself were harmless. Not because they were right. But because they were easy. You realize this, don’t you?”

Seb shut his eyes tight, no longer able to meet her gaze. Anger and shame burned his cheeks. His balled fists shook. It wasn’t true. She had it all wrong. He didn’t run out of cowardice—he did it for her protection. He didn’t hypnotize Kate for fun—he did it so the Vox wouldn’t target Sophia. The version of him Chelsea had described…that wasn’t who he really was.

It couldn’t be.

…Right?

“You can mock me all you want.” Seb croaked, his tongue clammy and stiff. “But it’s not like you’re some innocent little angel either. So what do you want?” He forced himself to match her glare. “I doubt you’re here just to get your kicks.”

For a moment, Chelsea seemed at a loss. Then she laughed, shaking her head, the ice in her expression thawing. “Fair enough. There is something I need you to do. Don’t worry,” she added, as though reading his mind, “I’m not gonna ask you to brainwash me here. It’d be too easy for you to just convince me to delete the video the second I’m under.”

“So then…what?”

Chelsea paused, her eyes darting away for a moment. “It…well…even if you didn’t erase Sophia from my memory, the Vox has had another…lingering side effect on me.”

Seb’s blinked. “What are you talking about?”

“I can’t cum, okay?” She blurted. “You put this stupid idea in my head that my body belongs to you, and ever since then, I haven’t been able to make myself orgasm until just now when you…you know.”

Seb’s brow furrowed. Had the Vox really affected her that deeply? If it could do that, how on earth had she retained memories of Sophia? And was getting herself off really the reason for this whole blackmail scheme? Seb could understand her frustration but…

“So you want me to hypnotize you and remove the effect?” he asked.

“Not exactly,” Chelsea wagged her finger. “Once you have me under, there’s a chance you could just have me delete the video. I need something a bit more indirect, and easy to control.”

“Like…what?”

“Like…a recording,” Chelsea finally answered. “I want you to record in an induction with the Vox. One that will trance me and command me to cum.”

Seb arched an eyebrow. “Are you sure that will work?”

“No, but it’s worth shot.” His opponent smiled wryly. “Given how the Vox works over the phone, my guess is that it won’t be as powerful as it is in person, which makes it safer. Plus, this way I can scan the audio and look for traps ahead of time.”

“And…if I do this, you’ll delete the video?” Seb pointed to her still-glowing phone screen.

“Scout’s honor,” Chelsea nodded. “In fact, if you want to put a command to that effect at the end of the audio file, I’ll allow it. Just don’t push your luck.”

Seb paused, allowing his pulse to slow and his head to clear. He doubted Chelsea had given up on her ultimate goal of enslavement, but this ask seemed reasonable for now. Maybe having an easy way to indulge her fantasies would even blunt some of her ambition, or at least distract her for a while. So long as he was careful with how he worded the induction and commands, there didn’t seem to be any major drawbacks for him. In any case, it wasn’t like he had much of a choice.

“Alright,” Seb agreed. “I’ll do it.”

“Thank you, Master,” Chelsea grinned. “I’ll contact you later to set the details and conditions. In the meantime, I suggest you and your toy sit pretty for at least ten minutes before trying to leave the woods. If I suspect you might be trying to follow me before I can escape, well…” she gave him one last flash of her phone before turning away. “You get the picture.”

A hot spark of anger leapt to Seb’s throat, but he kept his mouth shut as Chelsea fled out of sight. When he was sure she was out of earshot, he turned his attention to Kate, gradually bringing her up from her mindless daze and giving her commands to make sure she would clean herself up and return to the party without realizing that any part of her night had been abnormal. As aggravating it was to release a catch he had worked so hard for, whatever arousal he had felt had been smothered by that irritating blonde and her stupid schemes.

Or…maybe it was safer to say the feelings had been redirected, honed by a desire sharper than any sexual frustration. A desire Seb didn’t fully understand, but one he experienced with searing clarity.

There was no denying it: Chelsea had gotten him good tonight.

But that didn’t mean she would win.

As soon as Chelsea was out of sight, she made a mad dash for the edge of the forest. She didn’t think Master would try anything as bold as chasing and subduing her, but she had made the mistake of underestimating him before. And, as hot as it was, she couldn’t afford to stumble like that again.

Fortunately, she made it out of the woods without incident, and managed to compose herself again as she returned to the party. She wasn’t looking forward to squaring things with Veronica and Sophia later, but at the very least the night had been a success.

Mostly.

She chewed her lip as she slipped through the backyard gate, wandering aimlessly through the crowds to give herself time to reflect. Honestly, she was disappointed in Master. Even as he had become more cunning and ambitious with his powers, he was still afraid of them. Sneaking into parties and brainwashing girls into one-night stands…he was as deep in denial as she had feared. Persuasion wouldn’t be the key to cracking his shell—something more forceful was needed.

Fortunately, she now knew just what that “something” was.

There was still a lot that could go wrong. But tonight, she had been dealt the cards she needed to make her play. Sophia’s story had confirmed that the Vox could be coaxed out by strong desires unrelated to libido. And the oblivious Latina had also revealed that she was susceptible to Master’s influence.

If Chelsea’s calculations were correct, once she got the recording, she would have Sophia.

And once she had Sophia, she would have Master.