Message-ID: <41334asstr$1047993004@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: X-Original-Path: corp.supernews.com!not-for-mail From: "Simon Trinity" X-Original-Message-ID: X-Priority: 3 X-MSMail-Priority: Normal X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V6.00.2800.1106 X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Tue, 18 Mar 2003 03:22:26 -0500 Subject: {ASSM} Private Eye (MF, no-sex, mc, true?) Date: Tue, 18 Mar 2003 08:10:04 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: dennyw, IceAltar Private Eye (MF, no-sex, mc, true?) By: Anonymous Edited By: Simon Trinity (thesimontrinity@hotmail.com) You can call me Dan. I'm a private detective. That's what I'm licensed to do anyway. In truth I'm more of a problem solver. I help people solve unusual problems. Very unusual problems. I take a variety of cases. But I'm sort of specialized in helping to retrieve people who have, shall we say, been coerced in to acting against their will. Or to put it more plainly, I help people who are victims of mind control. This may surprise you. A lot of the stories you read on the internet about mind control are in fact absolutely true. Especially the ones about people being drugged. It's the twenty first century. Trust me, the drugs are out there. Governments are using them in their intelligence agencies. And if the government can come up with some sort of mind controlling drug, you can be sure a high tech pharmacology company can do the same. And so can the occasional genius putzing around in his basement. Consider that there are a bunch of people running around with 'psychic' powers that let them accomplish similar ends, and the world starts to become a much darker place. Many of these sicko 'puppet masters' have a desperate need to brag. But they can't really phone their pals at the bar to tell them that they've drugged their ex-girlfriend, or wife, or teacher at school, or whoever and turned them in to their personal sex slaves. So what do they do? They write a story and post it on the internet! A nice, safe way to vent. To tell others about their 'accomplishment'. Allowing yourself to degenerate in to a petty tyrant with delusions of grandeur. Yeah, that's a real accomplishment. Enough preaching. You'd probably like a story, right? Just like all of those other 'mind control' stories. The ones that are just 'stories'. Yeah, sure. I'll tell you a 'story'. My last client was a guy named Frank. Frank was a nice enough sort. He worked hard, took a lot of risks, and ended up pretty well off. The American dream, right? He ended up falling in love with this divorcee. We'll call her Mary. Mary's last marriage wasn't very good at all. The guy was a real insecure asshole. Always accusing her of cheating. Always trying to tell her what to do. Here she is, this beautiful and intelligent women. And she has this jerkoff ogre of a husband holding her back. So she did what any modern women would do. She eventually (after being hit for the second time) filed for divorce. A year later she met Frank, they fell in love, and they should have lived happily ever after. Right? Wrong. One day Mary calls Frank. Her ex-husband is there. She informed him that she's getting back with her ex, something Frank knows she'd never do. Jim gets on the phone and tells him to never speak to her again. Frank goes over, thinking Jim has her under duress. Mary slaps Frank, makes fun of the size of his dick, calls him a loser and lots of other colorful things, laughs, and tells him to get lost. A weaker, less intelligent person would be crushed by this and slink away. Frank was none of those things. He knew Mary well. He knew she'd never treat him that way. And more importantly he knew she truly hated and loathed Jim. Frank called a good friend, a well known local attourney, for advice. His good friend happened to know me by reputation. Calls were made. After a long talk with Frank I was pretty sure what was up. It sounded like classic mind control. But, of course, I'd have to check things out to be sure. I spent two days in front of Mary's house, waiting for Jim to leave. God knew what he was doing to her for those two days. But it's important in a case like this not to rush in. My report on Jim didn't make it seem likely that he had any sort of psychic power. But you never know. And being a normal, I had only a marginal defense against such a thing. I'd once drugged myself and used a recording to tell myself over and over that I had an iron will and could not under any circumstance be mentally controlled by others. This had saved me on two separate occasions, but I wasn't interested in pressing my luck. Finally I saw Jim leave Mary's house around seven o'clock in the evening. From the way he looked the bastard hadn't even bothered to shower. What a surprise. After he had driven off I quickly made my way to Mary's front door and rang the doorbell. What answered the door was truly a pitiful sight. A woman, who I knew to be Mary, stood before me in a hastily thrown on silk robe looking a mess. Her hair. Her makeup. It was obvious that someone had been smacking her around from the bruises on her face and forearms. And I was sure the white stuff on her neck was dried cum. In a situation like this you don't try to explain anything. You never know how a victim has been programed. For all I knew, she could have been programed to kill anyone she didn't know who came to the door. So I simply took out a sprayer filled with my own brand of mind control drug and gave her a solid dose to theface. A look of shock and fear was quickly changed to a glassy-eyed look of relaxation and happiness. One of the reasons why I use this particular drug. I calmly informed her who I was, why I was there, and that she would now obey me. Her smile widened. I'm sure her subconscious was desperately relieved to know she was going to be okay. After a brief conversation I learned that Jim was indeed a moron. His commands to her were completely spur of the moment and poorly thought out. It was easy for me to override them and insert new commands that would enable me to protect her from further control and also enable me to help her deal with the abuse she had suffered later. I called Frank and gave him a brief run down of what was going on. Naturally he was close to being in a rage and wanted to kill Jim. I promised him we'd do much worse, and asked him to come to the house to take care of Mary. I then told Mary that Frank was coming and that he would care for her. She gave me another sincere, if zombie-like, smile. That made me feel better. You might wonder why I'd let Frank come over. It seems dangerous. Mary had informed me that the drug Jim had used was something he'd placed in a drink. So unless Frank was stupid enough to take a glass of iced tea from Jim, he'd be fine. Things came to a rapid close after Frank arrived. He bathed Mary and put her to bed with a kiss. When Jim came back, I quickly shot him with a tranq pistol and he was out like a light. After a nice dose of my custom mind control drug Jim was more than happy to tell me that he'd used his drug on Mary, his own sister (what a fucking scumbag), and an attractive waitress at a diner he frequented who he always wanted but who would never pay him any attention. I guess the waitress had better loser-radar than Mary had. Frank wanted to kill Jim. And considering the hundred grand I'd been paid, that was well within the parameters of what I was willing to do for a client. Especially when dealing with these abusive mind control types. But bodies create trails. And trails lead back to people. And it just creates a big mess. I gave Frank some ideas of what other clients had done in similar situations. After some thought Frank went with turning Jim in to a gay prostitute. On the outside Jim would appear to be a happy gay man who loved to suck cock and have his ass fucked. Inside he would be free to experience all of the emotional torment this existence would provide him. He'd know he'd been programed. And he'd hate every moment of his existence. But his clients would know nothing of this. He would treat them all with respect, deference, and even love. He would become involved in gay causes and even work at an AIDS hospice to help comfort dying gay men. The fact that Jim was almost hysterically homophobic (something we'd learned while interviewing him) sealed his fate. Before letting him leave for his new life, I had Jim call his sister and the waitress and had them come over to Mary's. I administered my drug to each when they arrived to bring them under my control. At this point, what happens next in a situation like this is up to a client. I don't tolerate making other people suffer. However, other than that, I'm pretty morally flexible when it comes to a client's desires. My non-negotiable fee is one hundred thousand dollars. That kind of money buys a lot of loyalty from me. I asked Frank what he wanted to do with the other women. He seemed very surprised. I explained to him my policy on such matters and told him it was up to him what he wanted to do. He talked for a long time with each girl. The waitress was a college student. A nice girl. Very pretty and intelligent. Frank had me program her to forget all that had happened. He also had me program her to quit smoking, and to make it easier for her to study and remember things. I planted the memory that she'd partied too hard and had lost a few days memory due to alcohol. I also made sure no one else could ever use drugs to control her mind. We then sent her home to sleep, and hopefully to an improved GPA. Jim's sister Cara was another matter. Cara was very petite, with dark hair and green eyes. She looked a little like a beautiful fairy girl. After talking to her we learned that she'd never had a normal relationship with a man in her life. Her brother had apparently abused her for years as a child and she was thus terrified of men. She had no attraction to women. At 26 she was living in an apartment with two female roommates who constantly heaped verbal and sometimes physical abuse upon her simply because she was quiet and meek and thus they could get away with it. She was borderline suicidal. Her brother had used his drug to turn her in to his willing sex slave. She was terrified of both Frank and I, but was unable to leave due to the control of my drug. She wasn't relaxed. She wasn't smiling. After awhile, she started to silently cry. This sort of damage I can't easily undo. It takes a lot of time and gentling. If she had a significant other, I'd turn her over to him or her and give them instructions on how to help her recover emotionally. But she had no one like that. With programing I could make her appear happy and well adjusted. But inside, on some level, she'd always be miserable. What she needed, I told Frank, was someone to love her. I looked him in the eye when I said it. He knew what I meant. Sympathy, warmth, and a little lust were all emotions that played across his face as he looked at Cara. He drew in a deep breath, looked at me, and nodded. I'm sure you know what I did. I programed her to love, trust, and obey Frank. I also later helped both Cara and Mary with their memories, helping them to remember only the facts of what happened and not the visual memories or feelings associated with the events. It's not a one hundred percent sure treatment, but it usually takes away enough of the pain so a person can heal if they're given a lot of love and support. I also made sure that Cara and Mary would accept each other as a part of Frank's life, and would come to care for one another as sisters. Frank especially liked this idea. So that's a typical case for me. Mending some broken minds and broken hearts. Dealing out some justice to people who ordinarily would be above the law. And collecting a serious chunk of change all at the same time. My job has a lot of risks. But it's very rewarding, in more ways than one. You might wonder why I didn't decide to take care of Cara myself? A lovely girl like that. Well, you see, I just don't have the room. I already have three other special friends I've acquired from past cases. One of them is typing this right now. Sometimes people use very dangerous drugs that do damage to the brain. Some drugs even destroy a person's will completely. And there's just no going back. People like that need to be with someone who loves them and keeps their best interests at heart. That person's will is their master's will, I guess you could say. And my will is that Jennifer here take care of herself, feel good about herself, and never let anyone but me tell her what to do. Right, sweetie? * Jennifer's Note: God, I love this man. Girls, you have no idea how good it is to be his. Okay, now I'm a little embarrassed. Thanks, honey. I know some of you who are reading this are authors of mind control stories. And some of you aren't writing fiction. I just want you to make sure you say your prayers and cross your fingers, little psychos. You never know if you're going to become my next case. And if you are, I can promise you sick and pathetic little freaks, in the end the person in control will be me. 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