She Blinded Me With Science

"You know, Janice," Doctor Phillip Boyce said as he adjusted a tiny lens with an equally tiny screwdriver, "I've always been somewhat offended by the term 'mad scientist'." He had a smooth, mellifluous speaking voice, and it was undoubtedly this that helped to attract students to his classes. Certainly, his appearance helped as well; at least, he attracted more female students than one would imagine to his esoteric classes on neurobiology. However, very few of them did well...and it was this same lamentable lack of understanding that had brought up the current conversation. In a sense.

He continued to speak as he set down the screwdriver and picked up a soldering iron. "I mean, take Frankenstein. The idea of reanimating the dead bodies is a fundamentally sound one, with numerous positive applications for humankind." The scent of ozone filled the air as he began to solder a connection on a circuit board. "But one little mishap--and who among us hasn't had a mishap in the lab?--and suddenly everyone's out with the torches and the pitchforks, ready to go back into the Dark Ages. It's downright barbaric! Wouldn't you agree?"

Janice did not respond, so Phillip continued. "As for myself, I've been called 'mad' before. It's actually a very hurtful term--especially for one who has prided myself on my capacity for reason." He finished with the soldering iron, and snapped the casing onto what looked like an antique camera. "I happen to think of myself as a stable, well-adjusted individual with a good sense of humor... why, just the idea of putting those who mocked me in their place has a healthy cheer to it!" He chuckled. Then laughed. Then laughed some more, long and hard, in a manner some might have described as 'maniacal'.

"But of course, Janice," he finally said, when he calmed down, "I'm not doing this to put people in their place. That would be an act of egotism--small, and petty, and entirely unworthy of me. I'm doing this to make the world a better place. In the end, humanity will thank me. You understand, don't you, Janice?"

There was a small, muffled sound. "I'm sorry," he said, as he removed the gag from the young and very pretty blonde who was tied to a rolling office chair. "I didn't quite catch that. You were saying?"

"Why...what are...I..." Janice's voice was choked with fear and worry, and the rhythms of her speech were panicked and disoriented.

"Please, Janice," Dr. Boyce said as he attached a small pad to her throat, just over the carotid artery. "Clarity. Simplicity. If you'll remember, when I made you my assistant, I did tell you that I was not interested in anyone who couldn't keep calm under trying circumstances. This is a serious business, not work for some frivolous little girl who wants to sleep with her professor."

Janice took a few deep breaths. "Why did you do this to me," she said in a tone of consciously forced calm, "and what are you going to do with that?"

"Well," Phillip said, "to answer those questions in reverse order, this is a Neural-Optical Stimulator and Amplifier of Induced Conditioning, or a NOSAIC for short. Between you and me, I'm planning on working on that acronym. It'd work much better if I could find a synonym for 'Neural' that started with the letter 'M'. But that can come later, after I've tested it out. On you, of course...that's why I knocked you out and tied you to the chair. I didn't really think you'd agree you having your brain chemistry altered to make you my obedient slave."

"Slave?"

"Well, I'd really prefer to find a different word. 'Slave' sounds so...gauche. Perhaps 'student', or 'adjusted individual.' But yes, that's the sum of it. The device produces radiation on frequencies that the optic nerve picks up and transmits to the brain, stimulating the production of very specific neurochemicals; within moments of the formation of those chemicals, the brain accepts a source of prominent visual stimuli--specifically, the person who activates the device--and 'imprints' on them as a source of unquestionable wisdom, total command, complete domination, et cetera. It's based on the work done on ducklings by the behaviorist--but I see I'm rambling. We should probably just get to the test."

"But...but I don't want to become your slave!"

"Well, that's what makes it such a good test! You're in an environment that can't help but produce negative feelings towards me, you haven't liked me ever since I accused you of stealing my work, and you're panicky and unwilling! Obviously, if you wind up crawling to me and licking my feet, it's a certain sign that the machine is working to full effect!"

"But...does...does it wear off?"

"I don't know. I don't think so--it'll be interesting to see if it does, though." He picked up the NOSAIC. "Now, hold still, and this shouldn't hurt a bit." He furrowed his brow in thought. "At least, I don't think it will. Again, I'm not sure."

Just as he was about to press down the activator button, he was interrupted by a knock on the door. He rolled his eyes, set down the NOSAIC, and replaced Janice's gag. "Now who in the world could that be?" he asked himself as he rolled her office chair into a closet and closed the door.

The knocking continued as he crossed the lab to the outer door, opening it to reveal a slim brunette with a pageboy style haircut and a camera around her neck. "Yes?" he said, trying to enhance his disdain.

"Hi," the young woman said with a smile. "I'm Joanna Bright, from 'Campus Voices'; I'm sure that Dean Magnusson told you I was coming."

"No," Dr. Boyce said, beginning to close the door. "He didn't."

Joanna nimbly inserted her foot in the door. "Well, I'm sure it was just a tiny oversight on his part; see, I'm here to interview you for the paper. You were named to the Top Ten Eligible Bachelors of the Technical Institute, and I was just hoping to get a few quick words and a photograph of you in the lab. Dean Magnusson already cleared it, so..."

"Dean Magnusson..." he snarled. "I'll have to let him know how I feel about that." He eyed the NOSAIC. "Very well, come in. But make it short. I have an important experiment to get to."

"No problem," Joanna said as she slipped through the door. "If you'll just step back there against the wall, I'll get right to the interview and take the pictures at the same time."

Boyce sighed. "Alright. Where do you want me?"

"Just over there, next to that test tube-y thing."

"The alembic?"

"I dunno...yeah, I guess. That one that looks weird."

Boyce rolled his eyes in frustration. "Tell me, Miss Bright, have you taken any science classes this year?" Or any year? he added silently.

"Me?" she said, unslinging the camera from around her neck. "No, it's not my forte. I'm a Communications major, with a minor in Journalism. So," she began as she fumbled with the camera, "do you see yourself as an inspiration to science students who have troubles getting dates?"

Boyce narrowed his eyes. "What?" he asked frostily.

Joanna lowered the camera for a moment. "These are supposed to be joke questions. You know, stuff you respond to with a humorous comment? It's a puff piece, so feel free to have a little fun with it."

Boyce frowned as Joanna continued to fumble with the camera. "It doesn't sound fun to me."

Joanna flashed him a dazzling smile as she pressed another button or two on her camera, to no avail. "Well, just relax a little." She set down her camera on the table. "I'm having a few problems with my camera," she said as she picked up the NOSAIC. "Mind if I use yours?"

Dr. Boyce's eyes went wide in alarm, but before he could get out more than a word, there was a bright, actinic

*FLASH*

Phillip blinked several times, but the spots in his eyes were still huge. It seemed like they covered most of his field of vision, leaving only a tiny spot in the center of the room. The girl, Joanna, stood in that spot, the only thing he could see with any clarity...and even she seemed to glow in the after-effects of the flash, leaving a swirling, multi-colored contrail behind her with each motion. "Perfect," she said, and he was astonished by how her voice rang out like a bell. Like a pure crystal bell, constructed with such art that the slightest touch would set it vibrating... idly, he wondered how to touch her and set her ringing in the same way...

"Now then," she continued, her voice dulcet in his ears, "if you could just move over there?" She gestured to the computer, and Phillip was so amazed by the perfect grace in her gesture, and the glowing after-effects of her motions, that he only subconsciously registered the command. His body moved without his volition, but he obeyed her perfectly nonetheless.

"Great," she said, and a dopey smile split his face as he realized that she was happy with him. She said, "Now, I was asking if you saw yourself as an inspiration to dateless science students?"

She had asked him a question, and he knew he had to respond. "No," he said. "I have not."

Joanna rolled her eyes a little at the stiff response. "I see. Do you have anyone special in your life right now?"

Phillip nodded as though his head was on a string. "You," he responded, compelled by what he knew was an overdose of neuro-peptides, but what he couldn't help anyway.

Joanna wrinkled her brow in confusion. "Me?"

"You," Phillip said dreamily. "The NOSAIC--what you thought was a camera--it's influencing my mind. Making me obey..."

"Obey?" Joanna asked, her face revealing a little of the panic of one who feels events are slipping away from them. But to Phillip, merely hearing the word from her lips was such sweet music that he dropped to his knees in reverent awe.

"Obey," he sighed out contentedly as Joanna set down the camera gingerly. "I was planning to use it on my assistant, but now I only wish to follow your commands."

"Your assistant?" Joanna's look of alarm grew more severe. "Where is she? Does she know about this?"

"She's in the closet. She does."

Joanna ran to the closet and pulled out the chair, complete with attached lab assistant. "Oh, Jesus," she said, as she took in the sight of Janice bound and gagged. Quickly, she worked to untie her. "There's been an accident," she said. "Your boss, he got zapped by some lab thing and he thinks he's my sex slave or something!"

Janice stood up raggedly, testing muscles worn by hours of straining against her bonds. "I know," she said. "He was going to use it on me." She began to walk around the room, stretching her muscles.

"Well, is there any way of undoing it? I mean, I can't have a science professor following me around like some weird zombie; my boyfriend's going to freak!"

"No," Janice said, shaking her head. "There's no way to reverse it. That was the brilliance of it--total, unconditional servitude. Forever. But I didn't think he was that far along..."

"You knew about that thing?" Joanna asked, her eyes widening as she took a step back.

"Of course," Janice said as she picked up the NOSAIC. "Don't bother closing your eyes. It won't help."

*FLASH*

Janice was lying back on the floor, moaning contentedly as two mouths, four hands worked their way up and down her body. Dr. Boyce belonged to Joanna, of course, but with Joanna belonging to her, it amounted to the same thing. Soon, she'd be able to recruit others... a whole army of slaves...

One small consolation for Dr. Boyce, she thought idly as another orgasm ripped through her; he was right about her stealing his work...

THE END