“Hello, hello! Happy lunchtime, and welcome to the show!”

The broad smile and round, attractive face of Miranda Calderon filled the screen, the camera slowly zooming out to display her in her entirety as she said her customary greeting. Her straight, brown hair flowed down her shoulders like a chocolate waterfall, with the highlight giving the impression of a stream of caramel. She wore a white sleeveless dress patterned with blue flowers, which complemented her tanned skin tones nicely. She seemed genuinely excited to greet her audience - both those in the studio where her chat show was filmed, and those at home watching her on TV - but then, she always did. Her warmth, and her ability to talk to anyone - the rich, the poor, the famous, the occasional oddball guest - was a big reason why her show had achieved national fame. Another, of course, was the fact that she was a former child star who had her own sitcom at the age of nine. Despite being in the public eye from an early age, anyone who knew her would comment on how well adjusted she was.

“Today we’ll be talking to a longtime friend of mine, who’s been taking Hollywood by storm,” Miranda told the camera, as it continued to zoom out and show her studio, which was designed to resemble an ordinary lounge. “We’re also joined by a man with the extraordinary power of mind control, who has an exciting plan for us all. Stay with us, folks - you won’t want to miss this!”

***

Twenty minutes earlier, Miranda had been less chirpy. Her show for that afternoon had run into a last-minute issue - her planned second guest for the day, a nurse who’d been on the frontlines fighting that dreadful pandemic, had broken her leg and been taken to hospital. This left her with Kenna Hardaway, another former child star who had made her first screen appearance on Miranda’s sitcom before going on to star in some big blockbuster movies. While Miranda would happily talk to Kenna for an hour straight - and had in the past, though not on TV - it was customary for her show to have at least two guests.

As she stood at the refreshments table and sipped coffee out of a paper cup, Miranda watched her producer, who was frantically phoning people on the other end of the studio, trying to find a new guest at short notice. She shot a glance at Kenna, who was sitting in one of the comfy light blue armchairs on the stage. The pretty blonde nineteen-year-old gave her a sympathetic smile, which Miranda returned.

Getting out her phone, Miranda checked her phone. In five minutes, they’d be letting the studio audience in. Ten minutes, they’d need to be ready to start. It didn’t seem likely that a new guest would simply appear out of the bl-

“Good afternoon, Miss Calderon.”

She looked up, and did a double-take. Standing in front of her was a man quite unlike anyone she’d ever seen before. He was simply indescribable. That was not hyperbole - she literally could not have described any detail about him if someone were to ask her. He was tall... or was he short? His hair was dark - no, light - and long - no, short... His voice was somehow both deep and sonorous, and high and lilting, at the same time, and she couldn’t place his accent. His eyes were piercing and glinted with purpose, but she couldn’t say what colour the irises were. It was as if he wasn’t quite real - like her mind had just made him up, but hadn’t filled in any of the details about what he looked or sounded like. This meant that looking at him made her feel a little dizzy - and yet she couldn’t stop looking, feeling fascinated by the bizarre effect he was having on her.

Getting over her bewilderment, she gave him her usual friendly beaming grin. “Hi! How can I help you?”

He smiled back at her. “It’s more a matter of us helping each other. I hear you are short on a guest for today, and I thought I would volunteer my services. What do you think?”

Miranda opened her mouth to tell him that they didn’t really accept anonymous walk-ins who wanted to appear on her show, but then stopped short. After all, she reminded herself, they did need a second guest. And although she knew nothing about this man - not even what he looked like, really - that was kind of part of his appeal. She had to show him to her audience and see how they reacted to him.

“You know what? I’d be delighted if you could join us,” she told him eagerly, holding out a hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

The mystery man took her hand and shook it. “The privilege is all mine, my dear Miss Calderon,” he said smoothly.

“Charmer,” she giggled. “And please, call me Miranda! So, what are you gonna be talking about on the show today?”

His smile grew wider as he began to tell her.

***

The producer had been equal parts relieved and wary when Miranda told him that a new guest had suddenly arrived, but his caution over the anonymous man had vanished after a quick conversation with him. After that, he seemed just as keen to have the man on the show as Miranda was herself.

So it was that a quarter of an hour later, Miranda introduced a teenage movie star and a complete stranger to her three million viewers. After she gave the opening introduction, the studio audience gave their usual round of applause. Kenna stared at her through narrowed eyes and mouthed, mind control? Really? She had not yet had an opportunity to speak to the mystery man, who was sitting in the armchair to her left, and seemed less enamoured of him than Miranda or the producer. Miranda responded with an excited smile and mouthed back, just wait! Kenna still seemed unconvinced.

As the applause died down, Miranda turned to her guests. “Hey, guys!” she greeted them, as cheerful as ever. “Great to have you here today. Kenna, I can’t wait to catch up with you and hear all about your new film!”

Trying not to think about the stranger sitting next to her, or Miranda’s strange introduction, Kenna forced a smile. “Good to see you too, Miranda.”

“But before that, we should probably get to know our newcomer!” Looking back at the camera, Miranda gestured to the mystery man. “Now, as I told you at the end of yesterday’s show, we were supposed to have a nurse on today to tell her inspiring story, but she’s had to pull out at the last minute because she’s broken her leg! We’re sending her all our best wishes and hoping she gets well soon. But in the meantime, we were having a bit of a scramble for guests, and then along came this fascinating gentleman with only minutes to spare before we started!” She looked over at the man. “So, that was a stroke of luck, huh? Thanks for saving our bacon!”

“My pleasure, Miranda,” he replied.

“So, you have the power to control minds, right?” He nodded. She shook her head in wonder. “Wow. I mean, that’s just incredible. Have you always been able to do this?”

“Oh, no, this is a recent thing,” he told her, sitting forwards in his seat. Kenna looked back and forth between him and Miranda, her expression of disbelief growing more obvious with every passing second.

“So, what did you do before?” Miranda asked, leaning forwards herself and frowning with sincere interest as she shifted into ‘interview mode’.

“I was a stage magician. And I have to admit now, I was not a very good one!” He laughed. “It was my lifelong dream, but I could just never master the art. I kept getting the wrong card when I did card tricks; my vanishing cabinet was more a sort of ‘stay where you are’ cabinet; and the few times I attempted stage hypnosis, it was a complete failure. Honestly, I was just about ready to quit the whole thing and go work for my brother at his hardware store.”

Miranda grimaced sympathetically. “That must have been tough for you. So, what changed?”

“Well, one afternoon, I was walking home from a kid’s birthday party. I’d performed, and I’d done terribly, and the parents refused to pay me, so I didn’t even have enough money for the bus. It was raining, too - a real picture of a rock bottom moment! Then I saw a bright flash in my peripheral vision, and heard a deep rumble. I thought it must’ve been lightning, but when I turned to look in the direction it came from, I saw a trail of smoke from the sky down to a nearby field. I thought maybe some kind of aircraft had crashed, so I ran over to see if anyone was injured and needed help.

“But it wasn’t an aircraft. It was a meteorite. It had ploughed into the field, leaving a deep crater. As I approached, it cracked open and shattered, and this... this pitch-black gas emerged. Before I could react, it engulfed me. It shouldn’t have been able to move that fast - a part of me thinks maybe it was alive in some form? Anyway, I passed out. And when I came to, I had these... abilities. I soon found that I could control the will of anyone I talked to. Ever since then, my life has... improved.”

“I’m sure it has!” Miranda chuckled. “I imagine having mind control powers must open a lot of doors for you. I mean, this right here is a perfect example - you walked into our studio, and two minutes later I was putting you on the show. And I don’t even know your name!”

“Well, exactly! And now I live in a big, beautiful house, with about a dozen gorgeous slaves, and I want for nothing. I can have anything I want or need at any time.”

“Wow. That’s a real rags to riches story!”

“Indeed. Oh, and I no longer use my real name, Miranda - I prefer for people to call me ‘Master’.” He gave her a wolfish grin.

She nodded, as if this made perfect sense. “Of course, Master. If you’re gonna control our minds, it makes perfect sense for us to call you that!”

Kenna couldn’t contain her derision any longer, and let out a loud snort.

Miranda gave her a look of genuine confusion. “Everything OK, Kenna?”

“I’m sorry, I just can’t deal with this for another second,” she blurted. “I mean, mind control? Meteorites with magic gases? And this guy calls himself ‘Master’ and claims to have a dozen slavegirls?”

“Oh, I should clarify, my slaves are both gender,” the ‘Master’ said quickly.

“Whatever,” Kenna snapped, not even looking at him. “Look, Miranda, I’m not sure why you felt you had to pull this stunt - it’s not like you need something to grab the ratings, your show’s doing great! But whatever the reason, I don’t think I want to be part of this any longer...”

Miranda was truly disappointed. “Oh, come on, Kenna, don’t go,” she pleaded. “I promise we’ll talk about your movie in a minute...”

“No, it’s not worth it. I’m not willing to entertain this ‘mind control’ fantasy any further...”

“But it’s not a fantasy,” Miranda said. “It’s real. It’s working on me, after all.”

“Well, it’s not working on me!” Kenna said indignantly.

“That is because I have deliberately avoided using my power on you - yet,” the Master told her. “I’ve found I can choose whom it affects at any given time - and I thought it might be useful to demonstrate to the audience how I can turn a sceptic into a believer in a matter of seconds.”

Kenna finally turned to face him, her pretty, angular face scrunching up as she struggled to control her temper. “Oh, sure,” she hissed. “Your magic mind control doesn’t work on me because you don’t want it to. That makes a lot more sense than it all being fake.” She stood up, reaching to unclip her microphone from her jacket. “Look, Miranda, I’m sorry, but I’ve gotta get out of here...”

“It’s not very polite to leave in the middle of your friend’s show,” the Master remarked casually, “no matter how you feel about me. Besides which, aren’t you curious to see how far Miranda and I are willing to take this ‘stunt’? To see the lengths we’ll go to in order to convince the viewing public of its veracity?”

Kenna frowned. She really didn’t want to stay, but she had to admit the Master was right - it was rude of her to storm out of Miranda’s show. She owed her more than that after all their years of friendship. And she had to admit, she was a little curious about how this stunt was going to play out... “Fine,” she sighed, sitting back down. “I’ll stay.”

Miranda smiled gratefully at her, before returning her attention to the bizarre guest. “So, do your powers have any limits?” she asked.

“So far, I haven’t found any real issues,” he remarked. “I can partially control someone from over the phone, but it works much better if they’re able to see me. If they only hear me, then they can become confused or disoriented, or resist a little... I’m not sure why, but that is the reason I chose to appear on a TV show, rather than on the radio! Beyond that, I’m not sure I do have any limits. There doesn’t seem to be any restriction on the range of my powers - I have made a video call to a friend who lives in France, and he was very willing to comply with whatever I asked of him.”

“Wow, OK! So you could potentially control anyone in the world, you’d just have to Facetime them?”

“Precisely.”

“And you can make anyone do anything?”

“Well, let’s see, shall we?” He grinned mischievously. “Would you do anything I asked of you?”

“Of course, Master,” she answered immediately and sincerely. A second later, she smiled, surprised and amused by her own response. “Wow,” she said yet again. “I really would...”

“So for instance, if I told you now, on live TV, to crawl across to me and suck my cock, would you?”

The studio audience gasped. So did Kenna. You did not discuss blowjobs on daytime TV!

Miranda seemed oblivious to their reactions as she nonchalantly replied, “Yes, Master.”

“Do you like sucking cock, Miranda?”

She blushed prettily, squirming a little in her seat at the humiliating question, but nonetheless feeling compelled to answer. “Sometimes... I don’t like the taste, but the submissive feeling of the situation is pretty hot. I do them for my boyfriend, but only as an occasional treat - like, three times a year. Y’know, like, on his birthday, or our anniversary.”

“But you would do it for me, or for anyone else I asked you to, every single day if I told you to?”

“Absolutely, Master!” she replied eagerly. For some reason, talking about what she would do for the Master felt less embarrassing than discussing what she had done of her own free will.

Kenna was staring at her in absolute horror. This conversation was forcing her to admit that perhaps the mind control ruse might be true - or at the very least, it was working on Miranda. She switched her gaze to the Master. “You’re not gonna make her... do that, are you?”

“Oh, no, no,” he replied quickly, waving a hand dismissively. Then he smirked. “At least, not yet. First of all, I think it is high time to adjust your attitude, Miss Hardaway.”

He turned to face her, and she flinched at his piercing stare. “You seem like quite an objectionable person,” he commented. “But now, you’re not a person at all. You’re a puppy. Aren’t you?”

She blinked, bewildered. Then suddenly, everything became clear in her mind...

“Ruff!” she exclaimed, jumping up so she was kneeling on her chair. She raised her arms, waving her hands - no, her paws - in front of her. Her tongue hung from her mouth as she panted excitedly, waiting for her Master to give her a command.

“Good girl,” he said eagerly. Reaching into his coat pocket, he pulled out a green tennis ball, and then threw it across the studio in the direction of the refreshments table. “Fetch!”

Barking eagerly, Kenna leaped down from her chair and scampered acrosss the studio on all fours, chasing the ball. The assistant director had to jump forwards and steer her out of the way of the snack table, to stop her from colliding with it.

Miranda watched in astonishment. “That’s amazing,” she breathed. “She really believes she’s a puppy now? Just like that?”

“Just like that,” he grinned.

“And less than a minute ago, she didn’t think mind control was even real. You must be all-powerful!”

“It appears so!” He stood up, walked over to Kenna’s chair - which was closer to Miranda’s than his own - and sat down. “Now, I imagine that all this talk of mind control, and blowjobs, and now our poor dear canine Kenna, has probably attracted many more viewers than this episode had at first. But I want it to be your highest-rated show ever. How does that sound?”

“Oh, that sounds great, Master,” she beamed. “But how do you think we can make that happen?”

“Well, I have an idea... Take off your dress, Miranda, and then your underwear.”

She stared at him for a second. “Of course, Master! You’re a genius...” Standing up, she reached behind her back and unzipped her dress. “Why didn’t I think of this before? Obviously I’ll get much higher ratings if I host naked! It’s just common sense...”

“Well, quite,” the Master said, watching admiringly as she disentangled herself from her dress, letting it drop to the floor. She then quickly removed her black bra, not even bothering to undo it - she simply pulled it off over her head and threw it behind her chair. Now her large, round breasts were on full view. Hooking her thumbs beneath her matching black panties, she yanked them down, allowing them, too, to fall to the floor. She sat back down, making sure to spread her legs widely so her pussy was exposed to the viewing public.

“Perfect,” the Master purred. “May I say, you look absolutely gorgeous, my dear.”

Miranda gave him her broadest, most stunning smile. “Thank you so much, Master!”

“Doesn’t she look gorgeous, audience?” he asked the stunned crowd. “You’re all very glad I came on the show today to use my abilities on Miranda, Kenna, and all of you, aren’t you?”

After a few seconds’ hesitation, there were cheers and applause from the audience, and more than a few whoops and wolf-whistles. Miranda laughed delightedly and gave an appreciative half-bow from her seated position.

The Master whistled. “Kenna, come here, girl!”

“Arf!” came the actress-turned-puppy’s voice from across the studio, and she came charging back towards the stage. Scrambling up onto it, she raced towards the Master, but her path was blocked by the glass table, around which the three blue armchairs were arranged in a semi-circle. She turned to the left to go around it, finding herself facing a nude Miranda.

“Kenna, you see those clothes on the floor?”

“Ruff,” she barked with a nod.

“Pick up the panties with your mouth, and just keep them inside,” he ordered.

“Ruff, ruff!” she replied, and lowered her head to the pile of discarded clothes. Picking up Miranda’s panties with her teeth, she used her tongue to tug them fully into her mouth, closing it behind them. They felt like they were clogging up her mouth, but she didn’t try to spit them out, or chew or swallow them. She was a good, obedient puppy.

“Good girl,” Master told her, and she wagged her ‘tail’ happily at the praise. “Sit,” he ordered, and she plonked her butt on her back legs, kneeling next to Miranda’s chair.

He returned his attention to Miranda, who had been watching Kenna’s actions in amusement and wonder. “Miranda, do you have your phone with you?”

“Oh, it’s over there, Master,” she answered, gesturing offstage to a table in the corner of the studio where she left her purse during shows.

“Go and get it, please.”

“Yes, Master.” Dutifully, she got up and trotted over to the table, her boobs bouncing with each step. Collecting her phone from inside her purse, she made her way back to her seat, aware of - and not remotely bothered by - the eyes of the audience members admiring her bare ass.

“Now, Miranda,” the Master said as she sat down again, “let’s make sure as many people as possible know to tune in to your show. Take a selfie, please, and post it on all of your social media accounts. Make sure to get your chest in the shot, and to write an appropriately pithy caption.”

“Certainly, Master.” Miranda opened up the camera app on her phone and raised it in front of her. Once she had her beaming face and her beautiful breasts in shot, she clicked the button to take the photo. She then posted it to her Facebook, Twitter and Instagram, with the caption: My my, what’s happening here? Tune in to Lunch with Miranda right now to find out - you won’t want to miss it!

“Very good,” the Master smirked. “Of course, I’m sure the sites will take that down fairly quickly, but given how many followers you have I feel certain it will serve its purpose until then.”

“I hope so, Master!” she giggled.

He glanced down at Kenna, still obediently kneeling by Miranda’s chair. “Alright, puppy, you can spit those panties back out now.”

She let them drop out of her mouth onto the floor, allowing a trickle of drool to follow them as she stuck her tongue back out and began panting eagerly again. She seemed eager for her master to command her further.

“Miranda, have you ever had any romantic or sexual interactions with a woman?” he asked.

“A couple of times, Master...”

“Have you ever been attracted to Kenna?”

She shrugged awkwardly. “Not really, Master... I mean, she’s twelve years younger than me! When she first came on my sitcom she was only six. I’ve watched her grow up... So no, she’s like a little sister to me.”

“Do you find her attractive now?”

“I guess so,” she said, shrugging again. “I mean, she’s grown into a beautiful young woman. Objectively speaking, yeah, she’s very attractive. I wouldn’t say I’m attracted to her myself though...”

“You want her to lick your pussy though, don’t you?” he noted.

Miranda felt a moment of confusion, before something clicked in her head - yes, of course she wanted Kenna to lick her pussy. That was the best idea she’d heard all day! Though, she realised, that was most likely because Master had suggested it. She wasn’t oblivious to the fact that she only wanted her friend to eat her out because she was under mind control. But that knowledge didn’t make her desire for it any less true...

“Oh, yes, Master,” she sighed. Looking down at the kneeling blonde, she shifted forwards in her seat to make her crotch even more accessible.

He smiled wickedly. “Kenna, my dear - lick Miranda’s pussy for as long as she wants, in whatever way she wants, please.”

“Ruff!” Kenna said happily, scrambling forwards and thrusting her face between Miranda’s legs. Gasping at the feeling of the tongue teasing along her entrance, Miranda closed her eyes and thrust her head back, grabbing hold of the armrest with one hand and Kenna’s hair with the other.

“Spectacular,” the Master said delightedly. He stood up, and the camera followed him as he walked in front of the glass table, taking up a position at the front of the stage. He stared directly at the lens.

“Those of you watching at home,” he said slowly, “and, of course, those of you in the studio audience - be sure to contact all of your family and friends, and encourage them to tune in after the commercial break. You will continue to watch until the end of the show, at which point you will all make your way to this studio, at this address...” He gave an inquisitive look at the producer, who quickly called out the address of the building from offstage.

“Once you arrive, you will begin your new lives as my servants,” the Master continued. “Any and all of your loyalties to anyone else - loved ones, employers, the government - are as nothing compared to your loyalty to me. If that is true, studio audience, give a round of applause. And the crew of the show can join in, by all means...” He paused, and every other person in the room began clapping uproariously (except, of course, for Miranda and Kenna, who were otherwise occupied).

“Very good.” He turned back to face Miranda, who was still overcome with the ecstasy of Kenna’s tongue. “Now, I believe an outro is required, Miranda?”

“Oh - oh yes, good point, Master,” Miranda moaned, trying to compose herself as Kenna continued to lick her. She stared into the camera with a blissful smile and began to give her commercial break outro, doing an admirable job despite the occasional stammer from sheer arousal.

“Join us a-after the break, when we continue to talk to our new Master! We’ll learn all about how we are to serve him as his obedient slaves, and what exactly his plans are. It seems like they’re tending towards na-national, if not global, dom-domination, so that’s very exciting! Be sure to call or text everyone you know, and to po-post about the show on social me-edia - you won’t want anyone to miss today’s show! We’ll be right back after these messages...”