The Body Electric

Alison let out a loud squeal. A wordless expression of some combination of pleasure and, Margaret suspected, hope for the feeling she had just described. Margaret began to play with her own breasts absentmindedly. It felt kind of strange, controlling two people -- a man and a woman especially -- again. This was the first time she'd done it in so long. She'd almost forgotten how powerful the act actually was. She bit her lip as she felt the power surge through her body.

Margaret stepped carefully out of her cell and picked up Alison's clothes. She smiled as she looked at the professional suit the reporter had worn. She barely suppressed a chuckle as she thought about her judgment from a few weeks previously. Yes, we wear about the same size clothes, she thought.

Margaret went back into her own cell and slowly peeled off her prison-issued jumpsuit.

Alison moaned loudly, "Oh, yes! Oh, God! That's it! Yes!!!"

Margaret played for a moment with her own clit, feeling the electricity jump from her fingers to between her legs. "Don't hold back, Alison! Let it all out. All of it."

As she pulled on Alison's panties -- which were far sexier than anything she had worn in the previous ten years, Margaret decided that it was about time. She stepped into the shadows and reached into the guard's mind. She whispered, "It's time, Ron."

The guard convulsed and writhed with pleasure as he gasped and groaned. His hips started to shake and he arched his back as the pleasure he had been giving to the reporter was finally returned to him. He grabbed her arms instinctively and she, in turn, dug her fingernails into his back.

Then, both reporter and guard fell silent.

"I want both of you to stand up and come into the light."

They both did as instructed. Both had a blank look on their faces; it was a look Margaret had known well.

"Alison, I want you to put on my clothes. Ron, you may put your own clothes back on."

Margaret smiled as she watched the reporter take on the appearance of a prisoner in this jail.

"From here on in, Alison, you will be known as Margaret Stoner, the notorious criminal who was sentenced to death ten years ago. You will not deny your criminal acts. From here on in, you will be ... me. And I will assume your position as the journalist who came to interview me.

"Ron, I need you to go back to your post. As far as you're concerned, nothing unusual happened during this interview."

The guard stepped out of the cell and took a position a few feet away from the door to the cell. Margaret walked out right behind him and sat back down on the chair. The guard turned the key on the gate, locking the reporter inside the cell.

As Margaret picked up the recorder, she smiled at Alison. "I wanted to thank you, Margaret, for interviewing me."

"It was my pleasure. You've been more than gracious."

"Thank you," Margaret whispered, as she turned on her heels. Ron escorted her back to the main entranceway to the prison. Ron retrieved Alison's purse and gave it to the woman who controlled his movements.

Margaret searched through the purse and found Alison's keys and cell phone. She quickly scrolled through the numbers until she found the name she recognized as Alison's editor.

Pushing a few buttons, she raised the phone to her ear. After a few rings on the other end, a man's voice answered. "Glenn here."

"Glenn! It's Alison. Just got done interviewing the Margaret Stoner woman."

"What'd you think?"

"Nothing like I expected to be honest. She gave me a lot of insight into how she did everything she did."

"Cool! I look forward to seeing your report."

"I'll be in tomorrow to start working on it."

"Great!"

Even though she had transferred all of Alison's memory into her own mind before she was rendered mindless, she felt the need to test her own abilities by double-checking her home address on her drivers' license.

The following morning, Margaret reported to the news station and started to modify people's memories of the appearance of the reporter whose identity she had now assumed. She had no trouble finding Alison's desk.

About ten minutes after Margaret sat down and booted up Alison's computer, Glenn was standing outside of her cubicle. He knocked politely on the wall to her cubicle.

Margaret spun around in the chair and Glenn's mouth fell open. "How was --"

"Is something wrong, sir?"

"You! What'd you do to Alison?"

Margaret quickly tweaked his memories. She spoke with a sweetness that would normally have been considered unbecoming of a woman of her style and ability. "I don't know what you're talking about, Glenn."

"I'm sorry ... Alison. I don't know what I was thinking of"

Margaret smiled. Maybe eventually, she'll fuck him and take away all of his will, but at least for now, modifying the memories of everyone in the office ... well that'll do for now.

It wouldn't be long before the entire newspaper knew that the woman sitting at Alison's desk was, in fact, Alison and not the soon-to-be-condemned prisoner. *****

Two days later, Margaret sat in a reporters' area of the prison, typing frantically into her laptop computer about the event she had just witnessed.

"A few moments ago," she wrote, "the notorious criminal Margaret Stoner was put to death by lethal injection. No longer will we have to worry about her unnatural ability to convince people to commit crimes and perform all sorts of evil acts on her behalf.

"The warden said that her last meal was a slice of pizza and a diet coke. He further pointed out that, as she walked towards the chamber where she would soon be put to death, that she was calmer than most prisoners about to be executed.

"Once she was strapped to the table, she was lifted up to face everyone in the viewing room. She looked around at all of the faces staring at her. I could've sworn she smiled at me when she saw me. Even if not, she looked comfortable, almost as though she were looking forward to a long sleep, as she said, 'I'm ready.'

"Those were her last words as the deadly cocktail of drugs was injected into her body. Her head fell backwards, her eyes wide open, and, after a couple of doctors checked her vital signs, she was pronounced dead this morning at 9:37 am."

Margaret smiled as she reread her words and posted them to her blog. Now all she had to do was get back to doing what she did best. To begin with, she figured she'd start by locating Vince and Tricia. There's a lot of time to make up for. Fortunately, a trained army is always ready when called.