Message-ID: <18361eli$9901211743@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: ~master~ Subject: submission by mesmer - The Mule 2 Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <3666087A.3758BD79@coastnet.net.au> Standard Disclaimer - Over 18's only - If you enjoyed this hypnosis/mind-control story please email your satisfaction to the manager for providing this great site. - Thank you - Mesmer. THE MULE - 2 (Continuing from The Mule - Chapter 1) Chapter 2 "Tell her to relax and go back." velvet-voice said smoothly. I told the woman who instantly lay back down in the chair, resting the gun across her lap. "She can be up again in a flash, and will be if I don't tell you the key words that will stop her from shooting you in five minutes." I was told. I glanced at my watch. Then held the phone close to my head. "I suggest you listen, Mr Wallace. She's a mule and won't remember a thing when she wakes up. That's why I chose her-to show and prove to you what can be done, irrespective what you might have been taught. Have I impressed you enough to take me seriously in anything else I might want to say to you?" A fucking nut-case. Why do I always get the fucking nuts? "Yes." was all I said. "Good. Then listen carefully. If one million dollars just for you sounds interesting you can tell her to go home and not hang up on me. If it doesn't. You can tell her anyway, and I'll send a different mule back tomorrow. Then we'll go through the same thing all over again. What's it going to be?" Just what I needed-a fucking offer I can't refuse. I looked at the sleeping woman. "You can go home now." I told her. She opened her eyes and rose from the chair. After putting her shoes back on and tightening her belt she left my office without so much as a backward glance. I heard the door slide shut in the waiting room. A bad-hair day. That what it was alright-a fucking bad-hair day. Jesus! "What exactly do you want?" I asked, keeping my voice calm. "That's better. Does the money interest you?" she asked. "Not really." I said, telling the truth. "We knew it wouldn't, Mr Wallace. But we had to check. Thank you for being honest." "Okay." I said. "You've had your fun. Now, if you don't mind, I've got patients- real ones who need my help. Nice joke and all that, and I am very impressed, but the fun's over. Have a nice life!" * With that I hung up the phone and lit a smoke. Christ! I walked out to the waiting room and locked the door. Then walked back and closed the door between it and my office. I wanted to be alone to think. I made myself a half-cold cup of coffee, wondering all the time what the hell was going on. I started to rationalise. A mule was industry talk for a somnambule: a person who could achieve deep trance state in hypnosis easily, and once there in that state could be instructed to do anything, feel anything, and see anything, then awaken without any recall of the event whatsoever. I'd only come across a few in my time as a hypnotherapist, but I knew what they capable of, or, be made capable of. Drawing deeply on the cigarette I figured that either someone was playing a very elaborate game with me, or, it was all as velvet-voice had told me-but why? I sloshed down the luke-warm coffee, feeling the sugar coat my teeth already. Hell! Why should I worry about velvet-voice killing me: the coffee, the cigarettes, or the sugar would do the job for her. Her. Who was her? A woman therapist? My mind raced instantly, but no female therapist came to mind. And what was the plot, really? The money trick hadn't worked. Besides, she said they hadn't expected me to be interested anyway. So what were they interested in? They? Why did I assume it was a they? I finished the cigarette and the coffee at the same time, none the wiser for my attempt at a brain-drain. I didn't need this shit! As I sat there musing with my thoughts I played with the idea of ringing her back. Maybe that's what she was waiting for: curiosity to get the better of me. It was starting to. What the hell, I figured, and then dialled the number. I could hear the receiver pick up, but no-one answered. Suspicious type, old velvet-voice. No problems. "Hello?" I ventured first. It was my phone call after all. May as well speak and get on with it. Then I might get somewhere. "What took you so long?" came the smooth voice. I was calmer now: back to my old self: over the initial shock and confusion, or so I thought. "Well, I'm forty seven years old." I said evenly. "I figure the way I smoke and drink coffee with too much sugar that I haven't got too much time left to find out why you've gone to so much trouble just to piss me off!" I wasn't mad. I was cool, but I wanted to get across the impression that I wasn't very happy about the whole thing. Christ! Not very happy? What an understatement! "That was not my intention. I just wanted to show you what a mule was capable of, in the right hands." the velvet-voice told me cooly. "I am aware of what they are capable of." I retorted angrily. "There's no need to stay upset, Mr Wallace." she said slowly, as if she was talking to a child. I hate that at the best of times. "I merely wanted you to know you were dealing with an equal-or better." My blood began to rise. She had a way of pushing my buttons, and we weren't even best friends yet. "You've read the book, haven't you?" I stated flatly. "Book?" "How to win friends and influence people." I answered dryly. "Very funny Mr Wallace. But now we are wasting time. And I haven't got that much of it too waste, I'm afraid." "That makes two of us." I answered sharply. "You want to tell me what this is all about? I'm sure you could have found a dozen other therapists who would have been only too happy to play games with you." "Happy, yes-the right person-no." she said. "Come on lady. Let's get on with it before I start to get bored. Okay?" I told her in a tired tone. "Who are you anyway?" I added quickly, wondering why I hadn't asked that sooner. "All in good time, Mr Wallace." came the rapid answer. I listened to the silence. It was deafening, even to someone like me who liked silence. "Experimental hypnosis, Mr Wallace. That's what it's all about. And we'd like you to be involved. What can be done, and what can't be done." "What makes you think I'm interested? Besides, that doesn't pay too well, last time I checked." "I know you're interested, Mr Wallace." she came back. "And we'd pay you more than you could earn listening to someone's problems all day long." "We?" "There are several of us in the group." "All therapists?" I asked, my curiosity now rising. "Mostly, and a financial backer of course." Alarm bells started ringing somewhere. "How legal is what you have in mind?" I asked. "In strict legal terms, Mr Wallace, we are doing nothing against the law. Ethics may come into it as far as the mules are concerned, but nothing that would end you up in prison.@ I was starting to get bored again. "What sort of money are we talking about?" I ventured. What the hell. It was my phone call, after all. "Three thousand dollars a week, Mr Wallace." she said without flinching. Jesus! "Mr Wallace?" "Yes." I answered flatly. "Are you interested?" "I don't know if I'm up or fucking down at the moment!" I retorted angrily. "I am not trying to make a fool of you Mr Wallace." she said, reading my mind. "What kind of experimental hypnosis?" I asked tiredly. "The kind you'd be interested in Mr Wallace. All kinds." This time the silence was mine. How did she like it? Besides, I didn't like the way she inferred my interest. "Mr Wallace?" "Yes." "Are you interested enough to meet with me?" "How do you know I won't tear your head off?" I said dryly. "It's not in your nature to be violent Mr Wallace. We've checked." "When and where?" I asked. "Here and now." came the rapid answer. "When and where?" I repeated flatly. "At the pier in half an hour." "Okay." "And, Mr Wallace?" "Yes?" "It would not be in your best interests to do anything silly. I would know, whatever it was." "Sure." I said. The phone went dead in my ear. ** I lit another bunger and drew heavily on it, then watched as the blue-grey smoke streamed up toward the ceiling until it became invisible. The pier was only ten minutes from my office. I went there often when I had a problem, wanted to think, or just plain relax. Most therapists have their own therapist. I don't. I watch the ocean and it doesn't charge me one-fifty an hour to do it. I lit a second cigarette in as many minutes, shaking my head in disgust and wondering what kind of experiments she had in mind-they had in mind. I was interested in experimental hypnosis, purely from the viewpoint of discovering unknown performance levels as far as the human mind was concerned. I glanced at my watch, wondering where my destiny was taking me next. And somehow knowing the excitement that was already building in my conscious mind could either be very good, or very bad. I was ready for either. Time to go, with ten minutes to spare. Just a short, brisk walk. The End Chapter 2 (To be continued with Chapter 3) (by Mesmer) -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----