Chapter 7

This was a surprise.

When Chelsea had decided to take her homework session to the Undergrind Café, she had hoped to find a space away from her memories of Master; a venue where she could actually get some work done instead of playing last night’s events over and over again in her head, fretting and plotting and masturbating over what to do next. Yet not only was Master here, but he was sitting with a girl Chelsea had never seen before: a short, curvaceous thing with a pair of headphones hanging from her neck like a pink LED collar. 

Whoever she was, something Master said caused her to awkwardly adjust her hair and glance over her shoulder, her soft brown eyes barely missing Chelsea’s. The startled blonde quickly stepped back into the waiting crowd of customers, hoping to observe Master undetected. It was impossible to make out what he was talking about, but he appeared to be deep conversation with the mystery girl, their posture and expressions indicating that whatever was being discussed required a great deal of care and focus.

Should she try to get closer and eavesdrop? If she was careful she could probably get away with it. And even though a part of her shivered at the thought of being so close to Master after last night, his companion was an unsettling blank in Chelsea’s intel. If Chelsea was going to have any hope of winning Master over, she needed to gather more data. Ideally, without him knowing.

Then Master said something that made the other girl smile. And the adrenaline coursing through Chelsea curdled over. What was she doing, skulking in the shadows while this fat-titted cow tried to ingratiate herself to Master? Was Chelsea really so hurt by his rejection that she had lost all traces of her pride? 

This was no time to retreat or hide: this was a time to attack. 

Chelsea approached the table with her head held high, hiding her seething spite behind a friendly smile. “Hey Seb,” she called, her expression static even as a part of her cringed from using Master’s false name. “Who’s your friend?”

To her satisfaction, she saw both Master and his “friend” were completely thrown, the atmosphere of intimacy dissipating in an instant. 

“O-oh. Hey Chelsea,” Master quickly recovered, though Chelsea could see how tense his shoulders were. “Uh, how’s it going?”

“'It's going okay,” Chelsea answered. “I just came down here to do some studying. What a coincidence that we both happened to…” She hesitated, as though just now realizing something. “Wait—I’m not interrupting a date am I?”

Master almost jolted out of his seat. “No. Uh, I mean, that is…” he exchanged a panicked look with the mystery girl.

“I-it’s not a date,” she finished for him.

A-ha. So that confirmed it. This wasn’t a date, but there was no small amount of sexual tension at this table. And the way Master and the cow had looked at each other just then…there was history there. 

Chelsea felt her stomach turn. So she forced out another laugh. “Phew. Thought for a second I ruined the moment. Not the kind of first impression I wanna make.” She pulled up a chair up to the table and extended her hand to the mystery girl. "I'm Chelsea, by the way."

“S-Sophia,” the other girl answered, accepting the handshake. Chelsea blinked, struck by the name for some reason. Did it sound…familiar? Had Master mentioned it before?

“It’s great to meet you,” Chelsea lied. “How do you know M—Seb?” she quickly corrected. That was close. She had to be more careful—if she didn’t stay focused, there was no telling what might slip out.

“We, uh,” Sophia’s gaze flitted to Master’s. Again that stupid, infuriating look.

“We met in high school,” Master answered. “Sophia was going to a different college, but she recently transferred, so we decided to meet and catch up.”

“Ah,” Chelsea nodded. Was it just her imagination, or did the cow seem slightly deflated by Master’s answer? Interesting.

“What about you?” Sophia asked, her eyes narrowing slightly. “How do you and Seb know each other?”

“We met here at Diepner,” Chelsea answered. “We haven’t known each other too long, but we’ve become pretty close. It’s actually almost weird how fast it happened, right?” she added, shooting a loaded look Master’s direction. 

“Y-yeah,” Master nodded. 

Chelsea had to resist a smirk of satisfaction. Her theory was right: whoever Sophia was, Master clearly cared about her enough that he wanted this conversation to go smoothly, even if it meant giving concessions to Chelsea. He was afraid of losing face. Which meant Chelsea had the advantage.

“Did you meet at the hypnosis show?” Sophia asked.

Chelsea hesitated, caught off guard. “Well, we shared a few classes before that, so we knew each other. But I guess we hadn’t really…connected until after the show.” How did Sophia know about the hypnosis act? Was she in the audience? Had Master told her? If he had, there was no telling what else she knew right now. Chelsea would have to be more careful—if she openly contradicted something Master had said, it would break this delicate state of play she had been building up until now.

Sophia tilted her head slightly. “Did Seb really hypnotize you up there?” she asked.

Now it was Chelsea’s turn to send an urgent look to Master. He gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head. So he had stuck to their original story about her faking it. That was a relief.

“I, uh, I’m embarrassed to admit it,” she said, running a hand through her hair, “but I actually faked it. When the induction wasn’t working, I felt really bad, so I pretended to be hypnotized to save the show. Afterwards, I met up with Seb to tell him the truth and apologize for deceiving him, and well…he was generous enough to forgive me.” She threw a grateful smile his direction.

"Oh." Sophia’s lips curved into a subtle frown. “I see.” Something about her disappointed expression irked Chelsea. Just what was this girl’s deal?

“Were you watching the show then?” Chelsea asked, eliciting a nod from her opponent. “And you really thought he had hypnotized me into acting like a puppy in front of everyone?” She chuckled.

Sophia looked down at her drink. “I just didn’t think somebody who was faking it would go that far,” she muttered.

Oh, this bitch. “What can I say? I guess I was just inspired by the moment. And," Chelsea bared a fanged smile, "given how grateful Master was afterwards, I’d say it was worth it.”

Sophia stiffened. “What?”

Oh shit.

“Th-that’s a joke,” Master quickly interjected. “She sometimes teases me by calling me ‘Master’ since, you know…”

“Oh. Y-yeah, I get it,” Sophia put on a faltering smile and stood. “W-well I should get going.”

Master’s eyes widened. “Wait, Sophia, I—”

“I’ll text you later,” she interrupted before turning to Chelsea. “It was uh, it was great meeting you.”

Chelsea nodded absently. Her mind was still reeling, but not from her accidental slip up. It was the way Master had said the cow’s name. Chelsea had heard it before. And now she remembered when.

“Uh, Chelsea? Are you okay?” Master asked. “What was all that about?”

Chelsea met his eyes with a cold stare. “Last week, the first time we…experimented. Did she call you while I was..?”

Master’s jaw clamped shut, but his stricken expression was answer enough.

“You had me…right there…yet you answered a call from her?” 

Master's eyes darted away from hers. “I-I panicked. Things ended weird for us in high school, and I didn’t expect to see her again so…”

“I don’t need an excuse,” Chelsea said sharply. She was doing her best to keep her voice level, but couldn’t stop her breath from quickening. “Just answer me this: is she the reason you didn’t take me last night?”

Master flinched as though he had been struck. “I…I…” his voice died. And a roaring vacuum of silence filled Chelsea’s ears.

“I should’ve known,” she growled, standing and turning to leave. How could she have been so blind? She thought the battle was with Master, but all along the real opponent had been lurking in the shadows. Well no more—the front lines had been drawn, and now Chelsea knew what she was up against. With fire in her veins and poison on her tongue, she would make sure that stupid cow never…

“Stop, Chelsea.”

Chelsea froze.

No…it couldn’t be…

“Sit back down,” Master commanded.

Chelsea’s legs quivered as she tried to resist, but it was no use. Her head was still spinning from everything she had just learned—it was in no state to fight her Master’s wishes. She sunk back into the chair without a word of protest, and stared unsteadily into the gleaming eyes of her owner.  

“Y..you…” she managed to murmur. “You can’t just…”

“That’s enough,” Master stated, his voice low. “No more talking now. Just listening.”

Chelsea’s mouth clamped shut. No more talking. Just listening.

But…she had to…

“You remember what you are. You are my slave. Slaves obey their Masters.”

Slaves obey their…no, she couldn’t fall now. She wasn’t ready. She wasn’t prepared for…she didn’t even know what Master was planning to do. If he was using the Vox like this, all bets were off. He could do anything he wanted to her. She couldn’t allow that. She…she…

“This is what you want.”

She wanted it. She wanted it so badly.

No! Focus on Sophia! Hold onto the anger! Hold onto the…

“You want to submit. You want to surrender. Because obedience feels so good, doesn’t it?”

Chelsea nodded, her chin drooping down to her chest. Even as her body grew heavy, it felt like an enormous burden was lifted from her. Master was right. Obedience felt good. It felt so, so good.

“That’s right. You know what I say is true, because you remember that you are my slave.”

She was…she was…God, it was happening so fast this time. The flood of endorphins as the Vox soaked her mind; the heat pulsing through her with every heartbeat, relaxing and opening her body to his power; the feeling of everything around her becoming blurry and indistinct, leaving only Master and his perfect, beautiful voice.

“Say it for me.”

“I am your…your…” slave tried to hold her tongue, but then couldn’t remember why she wanted to. “Slaaavve,” the word finally slid out in a whisper.

“Good girl.”

A bust of pleasure radiated from slave’s chest. It soothed her aching brain, melting away her angry, rigid thoughts. Why was she even angry in the first place? It felt so unimportant now, and like too much effort to think about. Slaves didn’t think anyway—they listened and obeyed.

“That’s right. That feels really good, doesn’t it?”

“Mmm,” slave sighed dreamily, her arms sliding off the table and her thighs gliding open underneath. Praise from Master was the beesssst. It felt like his words were caressing her inside, massaging her brain and pussy with loving, tender strokes. She would do anything to remain in this feeling, to stay nestled in her Master’s hold. Anything to be a good slave.

“Very good. And I’m about to make you feel even better. But first, I need you to listen closely.”

Master cast a look over his shoulder, then leaned forward. Slave mirrored his movement, lowering her ear by his lips. Ready and eager to receive her orders.

“When I touch your hand, I want you to go to the bathroom, and enter if it is empty. If it is occupied, you will stand patiently outside until the room has been vacated. Then you will go inside, lock the door behind you, and wait. When you hear this knock…”

Master rapped his hand against the table in a distinct rhythm. *Tap-tap-tap tap tap.*

“…You will know it’s me, and you will unlock the door so I may enter. You will not allow anyone else to enter, nor make a single sound if you hear a knock you do not recognize. Do you understand?”

Slave smiled. “Yes Master.”

Master touched slave’s hand. And slave obeyed.

Seb watched as slave—no, as Chelsea—drifted to her feet and glided towards the one-person bathroom. She bumped into another student as she passed, but her half-lidded gaze remained locked on her destination, unaware of the confused look that followed her.

Seb winced. He probably could’ve added something about her acting normal in his command, but he was barely keeping up as is. His decision to use the Vox had been a snap one, a knee-jerk reaction to the rage he saw in Chelsea’s eyes. But now that she was under, he had to work quickly and carefully if he hoped to fix things.

One thing was for sure: he needed to get the target off of Sophia’s back. Even if Chelsea wasn’t the Machiavellian tyrant the rumors made her out to be, Seb knew she was more than capable of wreaking havoc on Sophia’s school life. Preventing that was paramount—the question was: how? Seb didn’t have time to think of some perfect set of words and commands get Chelsea off her warpath. Even if he forbade certain actions, he couldn’t account for every possible way she could aim to hurt Sophia. And a mind as sharp and subtle as Chelsea’s would definitely exploit any loophole he left open.

Of course…there was an easy solution, Seb thought as he watched Chelsea wait outside the bathroom door, her face plastered with a distant, dreamy smile.

He could just enslave her permanently. That would certainly settle things. Once she was completely in thrall to him, he wouldn’t have to worry about…

Seb tore his gaze away from Chelsea and put his head in his hand. No. He couldn’t. That was the Vox talking, not him. He would never be so cavalier with his power. Sure, he had just ambushed Chelsea with it but…that was to protect Sophia! It was completely different! And besides, Sophia knew about Chelsea now: what would she say if the sharp-tongued blonde suddenly started acting like a mindless sex slave?

He would probably have to enslave Sophia too. It wouldn’t be hard; given how she responded to normal hypnosis, she was probably even more suggestable then Chelsea. All it would take was a few honeyed drops of the Vox in her ear, and she would be just as eager and obedient to his whims. Then he would have two collared slaves at his command, ready to worship him with their bodies at a moment’s notice, their minds filled with nothing but thoughts of pleasing his cock and…

No! Seb pounded his fist on his thigh, trying to force back the poisonous yearning spreading through his veins. That wasn’t right. None of this was right. He had to fix this situation, and fast.

Seb stood, grabbed Chelsea’s bag from under the table, and strode over to the bathroom. There was only one way to set things right. It would be risky, and he would have to push Chelsea even further than he had before. But it was the only way he could protect Sophia without sacrificing his soul.

*Tap-tap-tap tap tap* Seb knocked on the bathroom door, casting a quick glance around the room to make sure he wasn’t being watched. Once he heard the lock click, he turned the handle, stepping inside and quickly shutting the door behind him.

“Master,” Chelsea said with a vacant smile. “I’ve done as you commanded.”

“Y-yes,” Seb said, setting her bag aside and taking a deep breath. “Good girl.”

Chelsea’s lips parted as a tiny gasp of pleasure escaped them. “Thank you, Master,” she sighed, swaying slightly on her feet. God, the Vox had really done a number on her. If Seb wanted to, there was probably no limit to…

No! The plan—stick to the plan!

“Now, I told you I was going to make you feel even better than before. And that’s true,” Seb paused. “But in order to do this, I need you to listen to my words and obey my orders very carefully. Do you understand?”

“Uh-huh,” the blonde answered.

“Good girl.”

“Ohhhh…” Chelsea moaned, brushing a strand of hair away and then caressing her cheek with a loopy grin.

“You felt pleasure when I said that, didn’t you?”

“Yesss…”

“Focus on that pleasure. That wonderful feeling filling your body and mind.”

Chelsea closed her eyes, her thighs rubbing together as she shifted from one foot to the other.

“It’s so hard to think when you’re so focused on feeling good, isn’t it?”

“Yesss…”

“So hard to do anything but enjoy this wonderful sensation my voice is bringing you.”

Chelsea’s mouth hung open, the faintest moan of assent escaping her lips. Good, everything was going according to plan. If Seb’s hunch was correct, if the Vox was powered by desire, it was pleasure that made it stick. That was why Chelsea couldn’t help but call him “Master” after she had edged her brains into oblivion. Probably.

“And it’s so easy isn’t it?” Seb pressed, stepping closer and lowering his voice. “So easy and natural to just drift on this pleasure? To let everything else fade away and let my voice take control?”

“Mmm…yessss…” Chelsea mewled, her gaze foggy and unfocused.

“That’s right. A slave yielding control to her Master is the easiest thing in the world. Because a slave’s mind and body belong to her Master, don’t they?”

“Uh…” Chelsea hesitated for a moment. Seb nodded his head, prompting Chelsea to bob hers in agreement as well. “Yesss….” she said.

Seb exhaled, trying not to let his voice waver with relief. “Your body and mind belong to me. Say it.”

“My body and mind belong to you,” Chelsea repeated, her voice becoming more resolved with every word.

“Good girl.”

Chelsea bit her lip as her breath hitched, her hands running up her narrow waist and over her breasts.

“Th-that’s right.” Seb continued, focusing on his enunciation to block out the Vox’s hungry growling. See how easy that was? And how good it felt? My words and my voice can make you do and feel whatever they want so easily. Because your body and mind obeys them so naturally. And why do your body and mind obey? Because they…”

“They belong to you, Master,” Chelsea answered with a small giggle.

“Good girl.” Seb waited for the shiver of pleasure to pass through Chelsea before continuing. “And since your mind belongs to me, that means I can change it at will, isn’t that right?”

“Umm…Uh-huh,” Chelsea agreed without prompting this time.

“Very good.” Seb exhaled. Time for the real work to begin. “Now, I’m going to make some small tweaks to your brain. And to make sure both you’re ready, I’m going to wipe it clean first. That’s sounds nice, doesn’t it? To have a nice, clean, empty head, ready to be filled by obedience and pleasure?”

“Mmm,” Chelsea gave a droopy nod. She would probably agree to anything Seb said at this point. Just as he planned.

“Very good. In a moment, I’m going to snap my fingers. When I do, you will strip for me until you are completely naked. And with each item of clothing you remove, you will repeat the phrase ‘Empty and blank, no need to think.’ Because not only will you be stripping away your clothing, but you will also be freeing yourself from the thoughts, cares, and will that are cluttering your mind. Bit by bit. The more naked you become, the blanker the canvas of your brain becomes. And the blanker your brain becomes, the easier it is for my words to paint new thoughts for it, until you become a perfect picture of pleasure and obedience. And you want that so bad, don’t you?”

“Want it…baaad,” Chelsea slurred.

*Snap*

Seb covered the toilet and sat as the show began, hoping to take a moment to catch his breath. But as Chelsea unbuttoned her cardigan, he could already tell that was wishful thinking. He would get no rest now. Not when he could see the faint impressions of Chelsea’s hardened nipples against her shirt, could hear the long, contented sigh escape her lips as she let the sweater drop to the floor.

“Empty and blank,” she breathed, “no need to think…”

“G-good girl,” Seb responded, gripping his thighs as Chelsea pulled up the hem of her shirt, revealing her smooth, cream-colored belly and breasts. She undid the clasp of her turquoise bra, casting it aside and massaging her newly freed tits with a quivering moan.

“Empty and….blank…no need to…think…”

“Keep going,” Seb urged, the Vox humming loudly in his chest. “Be a good slave and empty that pretty head of yours for me.”

“Empty…’n…blank…” Chelsea unbuttoned her pants, bending and wiggling her ass slightly as she pulled them down her legs to the ground. “No…need…to think…”

Seb shifted his legs, his hard cock straining against his tight jeans. His breath was heavy and hot, his entire body on fire with desire. He had seen Chelsea strip before, but not like this. Not with the awareness of just how deeply under his control she had fallen; how helpless and pliable her mind was to his words.

Chelsea shivered slightly as she slid her fingers into the waistband of her panties, the soaking fabric sticking slightly as she slid it off her glistening pussy. “Empty…blank…no….think…”

Chelsea fell silent, gradually standing at attention. Seb rose and slowly circled her naked, shivering body. Her flat, empty gaze didn’t follow him as he passed, and her jaw remained slack, a thin line of drool dripping from her glistening lips.

She was his.

“Good girl,” Seb cooed. Slave’s cheeks flushed and her eyelids fluttered, but she didn’t react otherwise. “Nice and blank for her Master. No thoughts, no will. Say it.”

“No thoughts, no will,” slave repeated without hesitation.

“Empty and mindless.”

“Empty and…mindless,” her voice trembled slightly as Seb grasped her breast, kneading her flesh between his fingers. He couldn’t resist anymore—he needed to have her, to own her. A slave existed for her Master’s pleasure; what good was she if he didn’t use her?

“Very good,” Seb murmured into her ear as his hands explored the delicate curves of her body. He marveled at the softness of his slave, the way she yielded to his touch, her tits spilling between his grasp, her thighs parting so eagerly as his hand glided between them. “Now listen closely.”

She gasped as his fingers found her dripping pussy, gently circling the slick folds as his words molded her mind. “When I leave this room, you will count to one hundred. And when you are finished, you will wake from my power and become Chelsea Jaeger again. But your conscious mind will have no memory of anything that has happened since you entered the café. Do you understand?”

“Y-yes,” slave uttered, her back arching slightly, her needy flesh pressing into her Master’s grip.

“Even if your waking self tries to remember, your subconscious will keep the memories away, always out of reach. It will convince you that you’ve lost track of time studying, and that is all that has happened this morning. Your conscious mind will not remember seeing me here. It will not remember meeting Sophia or what we are doing right now. But your subconscious will. And it will obey me. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes. Yes,” slave’s breath was quickening as Seb teased her clit, toying with her body like it was his favorite plaything.

“Because your subconscious belongs to me,” Seb growled, the Vox reverberating in his every word. “Because you belong to me. Say it.”

“I belong to you.” Seb pushed his fingers inside her pussy, eliciting a moan of ecstasy from his slave.

“Again.”

“I b-belong to you,” slave repeated as he stroked in time with her words, his thumb still circling her clit.

“Again. Keep going.”

“I belong to you. I belong to you.” Slave’s words were coming faster with each breath now, her body and voice shaking. “I belong to you. I belong to you.”

Seb increased his efforts, noting with a thrill how readily her own cadence responded. Without a single word from his lips, her flesh was obeying his whims. As it should.

“I belong to you,” she whimpered. “I belong to you I belong to you I belong to you I belong to you IbelongtoyouIbelongtoyouIbelongtoyouIbelongtoyouI…”

Seb suddenly pulled away, releasing slave without warning.

Slave stood in place, her entire body a quivering, dribbling mess. But she didn’t move to satisfy herself—didn’t ask or plead or whimper. All she did was what he told her.

“Ibelongtoyou,” she continued to repeat, her strained words barely above a whisper. “I belong to you. I…b-belong…to…”

She was a good slave. And good slaves deserved rewards.

“Cum for me,” Seb commanded. “Quietly.”

Slave shuddered and stiffened as though Seb’s words had electrified her. Her arms wrapped tight around her body, her mouth opening in a silent scream of delight. Her throbbing legs gave out, causing her to slide to her knees, choked utterances of ecstasy escaping her with every spasm that rippled through her.

And then Seb saw it.

Without slave in the way, he beheld his reflection in the mirror. And for a moment he saw what Chelsea had seen. He saw the cunning hunger in his smile, the dangerous glint in his eye. He saw a man outside of himself, a shadow projected by his darkest desires.

He blinked, staggering away from Chelsea as she swayed vacantly on the floor.

What was he doing? Why had he…

“Y-you will count to one hundred a-and then wake up,” Seb stammered, backing up for the door. “And e-everything will happen as…as I’ve commanded. Tell me you understand.”

“”I und—” Chelsea began, but Seb was already out the door. He couldn’t remain any longer, couldn’t risk fueling the Vox any further. What he had done…what his power had made him do…he had only meant to make her forget. He hadn’t planned on going that far. Even if it was to protect Sophia, even if he was just trying to make things right, it…it wasn’t what we wanted.

Right?

Seb cast a glance back at the bathroom door as he headed for the café exit, fearing for a moment that Chelsea would suddenly emerge, eyes alight with furious clarity, ready to exact vengeance for his crimes.

But the door remained closed.

75…76…77…

Seb swallowed, trying to force the incident from his mind. There was no use ruminating on it now.

A line had been crossed. He just hoped it would be worth it.