Keep This Secret Pt. 22

There's a bit of inevitability to the conclusion of this story. Still, at least one part should be somewhat unexpected. One problem with Mind Control stories is they don't usually pursue the topic to its logical conclusion. Chapter 22 does that.

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The idea was simple, but it involved so many individual actions that it felt very complex. I'll avoid as many details as I can.

Emma identified a potential presidential candidate who was strong on the environment. So far, so good. We gave him a big, fat donation, which gave me a chance to talk to him by telephone. I used the sonic stimulator to convince him I was the most important backer he had, he needed to talk to me anytime I wanted, and that he loved me the way he loved his old fraternity brothers. Emma and I spent a romantic weekend at his compound in Martha's Vineyard. It was nice.

Emma worked very, very hard on his campaign. This was the biggest opportunity of her career, and she was determined not to screw it up. She hired a top polling firm. Her consultants conducted focus groups to figure out how to craft a message the public would accept. I felt bad that I couldn't tell her she didn't need to worry so much. There was no way our guy could lose.

That's because I made sure that our campaign TV ads included the sonic stimulator in the background. I learned that a lot of TV sets have such poor sound quality that they don't always reproduce tones in such a high frequency range, but most newer sets were fine. I'd put the soundtrack under places where the announcer said things like "Vote for clean air and water." Emma thought it was very weird that I insisted on having a role editing our commercials. She thought it was so odd that I eventually used the sonic stimulator to make her think it was normal.

This part was tricky. I couldn't use the sonic stimulator too much. We needed for our candidate to win a substantial victory that gave him a mandate, but not in a landslide so big that it appeared he'd done something impossible. That wasn't easy. I lost a lot of sleep worrying about this. It would have been a lot easier if I'd simply told Emma what I was doing. She was better able to read polls and determine precisely how many commercials we needed to run, but I couldn't let her know.

After we'd taken over the White House, Emma targeted congressional members who stood in our way. She launched campaigns in districts that hadn't changed hands in years. The media was awed that so many enemies of progress lost elections they'd always won easily. The pundits eventually decided Americans had woken up to the extent of the problem of global warming. It was a "spontaneous shift in attitudes." Yeah. Sure it was. "Spontaneous." Pundits. God bless their pointy little heads.

It was actually fairly easy deciding what steps to take to save the environment. We just made a list of everything possible, then pursued them all. No act was too big or too small. We had to eliminate dirty industry, establish green technology, restore rainforests, and on and on and on. The folks we elected had their hands full enacting our agenda.

This might sound like something so complicated it was impossible. It only sounds that way because people invested in the dirty old way of doing things liked to lie, saying the technology didn't exist, or change would wreck the economy, or it meant the death of the automobile, or some other bullshit. They'd repeated these lies for so many years most folks believed them. But a lot of change was almost effortless.

For example, eliminating coal and oil was a top priority. All we had to do was stop subsidizing those dirty industries. For years, fossil fuel lobbyists had gotten so many deductions, exemptions, tax credits and outright grants that ultimately 80 percent of America's energy subsidies went to oil, gas and coal.

Ending all those government handouts was enough to fix the problem. Without corporate welfare, the dirty industries could not compete with unlimited clean, free energy from wind, solar, and hydropower. The main drawback to nuclear power was that Americans never possessed the political will to agree on a safe place to dispose of nuclear waste. With the sonic stimulator, that problem disappeared. Upgrading the electric grid and building power storage facilities was enough to make sure America never ran out of clean energy. All it took was some clever engineering, and America has always had a surplus of clever engineers.

As expected, Emma did indeed have a lot of crazy days that left her in a state of frenzy when she got back to her hotel room. She did indeed need a big dose of cock therapy most evenings. I couldn't always be there for her, but I was there enough that she claimed she'd never enjoyed campaigning more.

"I need some meat!" Emma would say when she walked in the door. "A big serving of meat!" She usually had a wild look in her eyes when she said that. I came to learn it was best not to keep the lady waiting. It reminded me of the time Mary requested that I be lying naked in bed when she got home horny from dancing naked. With Emma, I began wearing easily-removed terry cloth robes without underwear. She appreciated the gesture.

That year Time magazine listed Emma Fitzgerald as one of the top 10 most important Americans under 30. She and Victoria had that in common.

This whole part of my life was so hectic I began worrying about my mental health. I'd already spent time in a psychiatric ward; it wasn't an experience I wished to have again. Mary was a big help. She got me involved in yoga, mindfulness meditation, and a steady diet of enough sex to tranquilize a bull. Still, I wasn't very happy. I got almost no pleasure doing all this crap. What I wanted was to spend time having intimate conversations with Mary, Emma, Victoria, Mariana, Alana, and occasional others who added so much to my life. I did all the political work because I felt the world didn't have a chance without it.

Emma wasn't surprised when I announced it was time to spread our message around the globe. It would be a massively complex effort, but by now Emma knew how to conduct massively complex campaigns. She went back to her polling companies and asked for a list of countries where the environment already enjoyed widespread support. She identified weak spots in the political infrastructure of the forces of evil, and won a series of battles that put the good guys in charge. The pundits decided it was a spontaneous global movement. Bless their pointy little heads.

There was a lot more, of course. But it's like the joke I often quote. How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time. I'll just add that I used this opportunity to do something Emma called my "vanity project."

As you know, I hate smoking, and I've used the sonic stimulator to make lots of tobacco addicts quit. I commissioned a series of commercials that urged young people to quit smoking. Overnight, tobacco companies were horrified to discover their customer base was shrinking every day as old smokers died and young people didn't replace them. Pundits called it another spontaneous change of attitudes. As if.

Knowing it troubled me that I couldn't spend enough time with the women I loved, Mary came up with a good suggestion. I bought a private jet for Emma, and another for Victoria. It was a very practical purchase because it meant they spent less time waiting in lines in airports. They were touched by the gesture because they knew I did it mainly so I could spend more time with them.

For the next few years, I raced to do my part to make Emma's campaigns work. Her staff grew so big I eventually had to persuade our property management company to evict an entire floor of occupants to make room for Emma's army of worker bees. Almost every day, I had to spend some time using the sonic stimulator to make little tweaks to our campaigns. It would have been a lot easier if I'd felt it was safe to let Emma know what was happening, so she could make the tweaks herself. But I know one thing. The way to keep a secret is to not tell anybody. As much as I loved and admired Emma, I remained convinced this was a burden I dare not share with anyone.

At least, that's what I thought until I began thinking about the future.

I was still young and healthy. There was no reason to expect I wouldn't live a long, healthy life. But no one lives forever. It would take generations of work to get planet Earth back where it needed to be. As it was, the whole thing would collapse after I died.

Something had to be done. I had to figure out a way to pick a successor. There was no guarantee that I could ensure this person didn't misuse the sonic stimulator. Even if I used the sonic stimulator to make them strongly resistant to the idea of revealing the secret, or misusing it, mistakes happen. I finally decided what to do.

I had to tell Victoria everything.

As you would expect, she was shocked. I'd done a great job covering my tracks. But she recognized immediately how it all worked. "It makes sense," she said. "There have been thousands of times when I felt things seemed to happen too easily. Were those all times when you were in the background, using your invention to get people to do what you want?"

"No. It wasn't all because of the sonic stimulator. I used it to raise money for the foundation, but you figured out the best ways to spend that money to help as many women as possible. You know there are a lot of people around us who deserve to be called miracle workers. That is still true."

She was quiet for a long time. "David, have you ever used your invention on me?"

I hadn't anticipated that question. "I've done that twice," I said.

Taking a deep breath, I said, "Do you remember that time in the lab when you were crying, and you wouldn't tell me why? That was right after I realized how the sonic stimulator worked. I used it to make you tell me what was wrong. And I used it to convince you that you should accept my help so you could stay in school."

She was quiet. "I guess I can't complain much about that."

"The second time happened when you came to the lab troubled about something, and you wouldn't tell me what it was. I have to confess that I was a little bit mad about that. I thought I'd done enough to earn your trust by that time. I made you tell me you were struggling with feelings of loneliness. That was the day we both admitted having feelings for each other. I used the sonic stimulator to make you consider having an open relationship with me, but I think that just helped you make the decision you would have made anyway. I never forced you to become part of a harem."

"I don't suppose we can know what I would have decided," Victoria said. "I was raised in a way that viewed the whole idea of open relationships as sinful. I'd rejected almost everything I'd been taught, but it's still a big leap to go into a relationship like that with you. I think I would have done it anyway. I was pretty crazy about you, even then. I would have done a lot to be with you."

"What happened is what happened," I said. "I'm sure you know I'm telling you these things for a reason. The first thing we have to do is teach you all about the sonic stimulator. You need to be able to use it. That way, if anything happens to me, you'll be able to replace me."

"I see that. Is it complicated?"

"Not complicated at all," I said. "The process of inventing it was hideously complicated, taking years, but it's easy when you know how it works."

"Ok. We'll do that," she said.

"That solves the short term problem. Between you and me, we should be okay for decades. But we'll get to a point where we'll need to solve the long term problem. Someday, we'll have to give this job to a young person - or young people - who can keep it going after we're gone."

"That sounds like a very dangerous thing," Victoria said. "The temptation to misuse it will be strong."

"I expect we'll need to devote years to shaping this person - or these people - into the kind of individuals who can be trusted with the most dangerous technology ever invented. There's no guarantee, but I think there's one thing that makes it most likely we'll succeed."

"Yes?"

I got down on one knee. "Victoria, you are the kindest, smartest, lovingest woman I know. I want you in my life forever. Will you marry me?"

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Victoria chose to wear elegant lingerie, leaving her slutty garments in the closet. "This reminds me of the night you took my virginity," she said. "I was nervous then, and I'm nervous now."

"I'm nervous too," I said. "We've made love many times since then, but we've never done anything like this."

Victoria slipped off her panties and climbed into bed. I put a pillow under her pretty butt. We did this all the time; I liked the way it raised her pussy into a position where I could go down on her without straining my neck. I fully intended to eat her pussy on this night, but there was a more important reason for the pillow.

We were going to try to make a baby. Victoria had stopped using birth control, and she'd kept close track of her periods. Tonight was the first night that we would make love at the right time to get her pregnant. There was no guarantee, of course, but Victoria was young and healthy, and so was I. There was a real chance that we'd get what we wanted in nine months.

"Are you sure about this?" I asked.

Victoria laughed. It was a long, loud laugh, not a chuckle or giggle. "I can't believe you just asked that question!" she said. "OF COURSE I'm sure about this! This isn't something a woman does without serious thought. David, I think you need to relax. Did you take your medication today?"

"Yeah, I took my medication," I said. "I guess I'm overthinking it."

This time she giggled. "Well, it's going to be pretty easy to do this next part without overthinking," she said.

We'd gotten married in a small private ceremony. The media wasn't informed; Victoria was such a celebrity that an announcement would make news around the world. We'd decided that Victoria's PR department would announce when she got pregnant, and only then let the world know she was married. That way there would be one media storm instead of two.

Mary, Emma, Alana and Mariana were there. They were enthusiastic about our marriage in general, and the plan to have children in particular. We revealed nothing about the sonic stimulator; all we told them was that we'd decided we wanted to have children, and we thought it was important that they grow up knowing Mommy and Daddy were married. It was going to be challenging when the kid (or kids) got old enough to figure out that Mommy and Daddy had several girlfriends they liked to sleep with. We'd figure that out. Eventually.

There would be no teasing in bed tonight. It seemed unnecessary.

As always, we began by kissing. "I love you, Victoria," I said.

"I love you too, David. Having you in my life is the best thing that ever happened to me."

"That might be about to change," I said. "It might be time for me to get a demotion, put a new person at the top of your list."

Victoria giggled. "You could be right about that."

I kissed my way down her neck and breasts to her belly. It was all very exciting, but relaxing at the same time. Believe it or not, we'd had a detailed discussion about how this night should go. The plan was that I would go down on Victoria. I wouldn't do it long enough to make her climax; I was just to do it long enough for her to feel "receptive." That's a fancy word, isn't it? "Receptive."

With that, it would be my job to get started making love. I would make no effort to prolong things. I'd gone without sex all day, hoping it meant I'd give her an especially generous load of my "seed." I've read a lot of erotica where people talk about "seed," but I always thought that was a stupid term for semen. On this night, it wasn't stupid at all.

This all sounds pretty clinical, and it is, but I had some pretty specific marching orders. I was supposed to make love until I thought Victoria was close to having an orgasm. I was to have mine first. Hopefully, Victoria would then have hers. She'd read somewhere that scientists believe the female orgasm has a purpose. All those contractions apparently help "seed" make its way to the uterus, and on to the egg.

After we finished, I was to get off Victoria so she could spend the night sleeping with her butt elevated on the pillow. I suppose this is obvious, but tilting her bottom like that apparently helped my "seed" swim downstream. I'm finding it very difficult to write this without laughing. Making babies is serious business.

Victoria and I knew our bodies very well. We knew how to please each other. I could tell when she was on the edge, and I was able to relax and let my climax happen. Feeling me throb inside her - and knowing that this was the first time she was trying to get pregnant - made Victoria have a long, gentle orgasm that seemed to go on and on and on. I felt as though I hadn't released so much cum ever before.

"That was nice," she said afterward. "I expected to like it, and I really did."

"Fingers crossed," I said.

It's impossible to know for sure. Victoria and I made love daily in the next few weeks, and she could have become pregnant during any of those times. But she tested positive for pregnancy quickly, and gave birth almost exactly nine months after that night. I'm convinced that's when it happened. Believe it or not, I felt proud of her for being so fertile. I mentioned that to her, and she thought I was joking. "What am I now, a brood mare?" she asked, laughing.

"Maybe," I said.

I wasn't joking at all. Victoria is a lot of woman in a lot of ways. It doesn't surprise me one bit that she excels in the fertility department.

We would have other children. We would be very careful how we raised them, remembering that they had a special destiny that required a special devotion to honesty, morality, and humanity. We hoped we wouldn't need to use the sonic stimulator on them ever.

We can only do our best.

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And that is how David risks the future of the human race on whether he can control the most dangerous technology ever invented. For the record, the author has no idea whether David succeeds or not. At the moment, I'm not inclined to write stories that explore the strange new world David creates. If you disagree, let me know. That's what the comments are for. If you like this story, please take time to vote five stars. I've been gratified that so many of you voted that way for my story Enslaved - Love In The Future. It would please me if you checked it out; it's the best thing I've written in years. Enslaved has plenty of explicit sex, but a lot of the text is devoted to character and plot development. My feeling is that erotica is hotter when it involves sex between characters we care about. I like to think David is more interesting than the horny little jerks featured in some Mind Control stories, and that his women are nothing like the two dimensional bimbos that populate this sub-genre.