It’s all here. All the evidence I need, right here in Meena Banik’s own computer. My God. All the allegations are true. Every last one.
Misconduct. Unreported resistance. Forged waivers. Fabricated permissions. Everyone a gross violation of the Mind Control Regulatory Act of 2014.
Quickly I pop the pen drive into the port and let it extract the data. I lean back outside the soft glow of the screen, the only light save for the twinkling of the lights of Mumbai outside the huge windows behind me.
My initial sense of indignation gives way to euphoria. I have it.My exclusive. I, Bhagirathi Parmer, will win the Pulitzer for this! An expose that will topple the multi-crore empire that is Banik Anbami Enterprises!
I did it myself. I get all the praise and all the glory. I tracked down every contact and lead. They call themselves mind controllers, but I manipulated them into leading me to this point. And now I will reap the reward.
I never let them get me into a position where they could put me under. Five years ago I went to a hypnotherapist to help me stop smoking, so I know the tricks. I know the techniques. I avoided them all. If they could not put me under, they could not plant triggers in me. They could not stop me.
I smile at my cleverness. I have succeeded where others have failed. No one before me ever got this far. And now I nearly have it all. I nearly have my exclusive.
The download is finished. I snatch the pen drive from the computer and head around the side of the desk.
I stop when the lights abruptly come on.
“Now, fancy meeting you here, Miss Parmer.”
I’m still blinking at the bright glare, but that low, sultry voice is unmistakable. It sends a small shiver through me. But I do not need to fear her. All her power resides with the ability to put me under, to control my mind. Otherwise, she is powerless.
“You cannot stop me, Miss Banik,” I tell her.
That single syllable rivets my attention on her. My breath catches. She’s beautiful. The vids don’t do her justice. Midnight-black hair done in gentle waves over her shoulders and down her back. Shapely body wrapped in a tight red blouse, the buttons seemingly about to pop off over her bosom. Hip-hugging skirt. Silky black stockings that wrap her long legs like a second skin. Four-inch heel shoes, also red.
“If you try to use violence on me, you will make this worse,” I tell her.
Banik Anbami smiles. Another little shiver goes through me. “Violence? Why would I use violence on you, Miss Parmer?”
I swallow. My heart is hammering in my chest. Why is she affecting me like this? I cannot be this nervous.
She steps further into the room. My eyes dart down to her long, lovely legs as they swing with each step, then rise to her hips as they sway in so sexy a manner back and forth. My breath quickens as she approaches. I feel flushed and back up a step. She circles around me, all the while giving me that smile and keeping her eyes on me.
I turn with her as she steps behind the desk and sits down. She leans back in her chair and steeples her fingers.
I don’t understand.
I look towards the door to the office. It’s open. I can leave. Free and clear, and with the evidence. She is making no move to stop me.
“Something the matter, Miss Parmer?”
I look back towards her. I’m panting lightly. I can’t get myself to respond. What’s wrong with me?
“You wanted to leave, did you not?”
“Leave?” I say in a small voice, like it’s a foreign concept to me. “Yes.”
“After all, you said yourself… ” She leans forward. Her breasts shift under her blouse. She isn’t wearing a bra. I feel a tingling sensation in my nether regions. “… I cannot stop you.”
I take a few deep breaths but it does little to calm me. “No, you can’t.”
Her lips curl into a chilling, wicked grin. “I won’t have to,” she says in a husky voice.
I feel my body quiver and a sensual sigh escapes my lips. Slowly, with difficulty, I pull my eyes from her and turn towards the door.
With her no longer in my sight, it’s a little easier. I start for the door. My legs feel heavy. Already I know something is very wrong.
“But if you go, you will not know desire as it can truly be experienced.”
I stop. I start to tremble. I feel hot all over. It concentrates between my legs.
I wait for her to say something else. It’s like… it’s like I want her to say something else. Like I’m anticipating it. No, this… this isn’t right.
Finally, I manage to move again. It’s even harder. The door seems miles away.
“Do you know what it is like to experience intense pleasure, Miss Parmer?”
It comes over me like a wave, softly flooding my body. I quiver as it feels like ripples over my skin. Tiny hot flashes play in my sex and on my nipples. When I try to move again, I feel steamy moisture in my pussy.
I don’t understand. What’s happening to me? I never went under. I never did. These can’t be triggers. They can’t…
“Or to feel your body consumed with mind-numbing lust…”
I stagger and fall to my knees, and then on all fours. My straight, black hair falls to either side, brushing the floor. The data drive has fallen from my hand. My pussy and my nipples throb, sending more waves that crash through my body. I can barely think. I can’t move. All I can do is feel, feel the intense sexual pleasure overcoming me.
“Or to truly let yourself go and experience pure, erotic bliss…”
I cry out as I cum, my cunt convulsing, the intensity of my throbbing ecstasy blocking out all other thoughts. My orgasm takes my body and my mind. For that moment, there is nothing else. There is not even me, only a soul drowning in a sea of pleasure.
I have no idea how much times passes. When my climax fades, I am left panting, my pussy still aching for more, and Banik Anbami standing nearby.
I shift my eyes to her legs. Her wonderfully sexy legs. I could keep watching them forever.
Suddenly I feel a touch. It is very light, a single finger pressing into my back below my neck. She slides the fingertip along my body. Even through my blouse, I shiver at her touch, a small, quavering moan escaping between my barely-parted lips. My pussy throbs in need again. I desperately try to hold on to coherent thought. It is a losing battle.
“I’ve had this company for ten years, Miss Parmer,” Banik Anbami says. I moan at the sound of her sultry voice. “Do you know how I manage this? By knowing who my enemies are. As early as possible. As early as… oh… five years before they may be ready to strike at me.”
She reaches the small of my back. I’m shaking with desire. She places a hand on one of my ass cheeks and squeezes. I cry out as I cum again. More of my will slips away. Before, I could think of escape but could not do it. Now I cannot even think it. And as my orgasm fades, still I crave more.
She removes her hand. I whimper at the loss of her touch.
“Stand up, Miss Parmer.”
I want to resist her. I manage it only for a few seconds. My will is too weakened by the intensity of the pleasures she has shown me, and the anticipation of more. I slowly rise to my feet, my legs trembling, my pussy hot and wet.
She speaks to me again. “A hypnotherapist. One who can be properly influenced. One who sees it very worth his while to agree to a few… adjustments… to the therapy a very ambitious young reporter. A reporter that just might get it in her head to do a story on me someday. Undress yourself, Miss Parmer.”
I begin to take off my clothes. At the same time I know this to be wrong, that this is humiliating me beyond belief, I also feel renewed waves of pleasure ripple through my body in anticipation of being naked and helpless before her.
“And as a result…” My blouse and bra fall away. She squeezes one of my breasts, and I shudder with erotic delight. “… a single trigger phrase can put you back into a deep trance at any time, and leave you with no memory of it ever happening.”
She pauses and whispers hotly and huskily into my ear, “Guess how we used that… all your little meetings… all your contacts… each putting one more trigger into your pretty, black head…”
I whimper, both in intense, burning sexual need, and in utter despair as I push the rest of the clothes from my body.
I stand before her, struggling to hold on to my mind, to stop myself from falling completely away. I hold on to my thoughts viciously, reminding myself of why I am here, and what I had intended to do.
Banik Anbami touches my cheek gently with her hand. I whimper again, begging softly for a more intimate touch. She smiles at me and cups my chin, lifting my gaze to hers. I look into her gorgeous eyes of liquid violet fire.
“You wanted your exclusive, Miss Parmer, didn’t you?”
I am compelled to answer her. “Y-yes…” I say in a soft, breathless voice.
“Then you should thank me for giving it to you.”
“Thank you… but… you? You did… ?” I could barely hold more than three words in my head any given moment. I could not speak above a whisper.
“Oh, yes. I led you here every step of the way. It was easier to eliminate you that way.”
A sense of cold dread flitted through the part of my mind not consumed by lust and desire. “Then… the data… it’s fake… ?”
“Oh, no, Miss Parmer. I said I gave you an exclusive, and I did. Everything is true. Every bit of it.”
“You… you’re enslaving women… against their wishes…”
Her lips curled into a wicked grin. “Why, Miss Parmer, you’re not up on the latest psychological research. All women harbor a secret desire to be subservient… to be a slave… to be submissive…”
A low, soft moan escapes my lips. I feel what little of my will remains draining away as she triggers that last part of my transformation. And in a cruel final twist, my memories of me, and what I had come to do, remain with me. They remain locked away, unable to resist the now all-consuming desire to submit, to be obedient, and to experience pleasure.
She touches my pussy. I cry out sweetly as I cum, beautiful sensual delight radiating through my body, my mind turning to complete and utter bliss.
Her words come to me as if in a dream. “All I do is bring that out. As I have with you. Isn’t that right, Miss Parmer?”
“Yessss,” I breathe, and smile softly at her.
Banik Anbami pulls out her cell phone.
“This is Banik Anbami. Come to my office. I have another Pleasure Unit for you. She just needs a small bit of conditioning. Most of the work is done.”
She snaps it closed and looks at me.
“Think of it this way, Miss Parmer. This is another chance at an exclusive.” Her lips curl into a smirk. “At least that’s the reason that will appear on your permission form. A five year commitment. The inside story on being a sex slave. That should be long enough for the pleasure that you experience between now and then to leave a permanent impression on your mind. It will be a little harder for you to say anything disparaging about our company with the lingering memories of so many wonderful orgasms permanently etched into your brain.”
“And who knows… you may like being a Pleasure Unit so much, you’ll just want to do it again. And we will more than happy to oblige you.”
She steps back over to her desk for a moment. When she returns, she carries something small and cylindrical, with rounded ends and thin straps.
“Spread your feet apart.”
I obey her eagerly. She presses the cylinder to my pussy, making me moan. She secures the straps around me so that the object remains pressed to me.
“This will keep you quiescent until the boys from conditioning arrive.”
She taps the object once with her finger. It vibrates softly. I moan constantly as I am overcome with little waves and ripples of erotic delight. Occasionally, I cum softly. I am in ecstasy. I never want it to stop.
And yet… somewhere inside me… a small chill radiates through my body and mind over what I had just become.
And all for an exclusive I will never be able to report.