The Things Done to Me Ch. 14

"This is all very ambitious and very sudden. The purpose of this meeting was to sell me on a product line - not a merger," Scarlet said.

"I get that," Demi replied. "It's not an all-or-nothing proposal. The product line is a chance to test the waters and see how well such a merger would do. Everything that I'm suggesting here is on a timeline that spans years, not seasons."

"And what do you think of this, Persephone?" Scarlet asked.

She cringed a little and took a sip of coffee before answering. "At first? I was a little shocked at the idea. I mean - it's a drastic change from our current business model. However, the more I thought about it and worked with Demi, the more excited I became. You may have hired me to be specifically a wedding dress designer, but my degree is in fashion in general, not wedding dresses. I was bored with wedding design before my accident, and after I was terrified that you'd replace me if my heart weren't in it."

"Replace you?! Persephone, I've told you that you're one of my best designers..."

"And what if your best designers never wanted to look at another wedding dress again? Or couldn't help but burst out in tears at the thought of designing another wedding dress? Would you keep her on just because she used to be your best designer?" Persephone countered. "That's where I was, Scarlet. The reason this whole project came into being was so that I could do something other than wedding dresses; I was desperately trying to find my way around some serious emotional baggage."

"I see," she said. "I hadn't realized that."

"I was so happy when you agreed to let me try..." Persephone added.

"I suppose that's something I should consider while reviewing this proposal," Scarlet said. "There's something to be said about giving our designers more creative liberty. I'm late for another meeting. Demi? I have a slot of time open after three -"

"Say no more," Demi said. "I'll clear that time to meet with you."

"Good work, ladies." Scarlet logged off of the call, leaving only Demi and Persephone.

Persephone collapsed back in her chair and sighed. "I thought we agreed that you would make the merger proposal a separate issue."

"I made an executive decision." Demi shrugged. "Titty torture?"

"What?"

"Titty torture. You're wearing a bra; you never wear bras. And I can see a hint of bruising in your cleavage," she pointed out.

"I covered that with makeup!" Persephone said as she placed her hand on her chest.

"I noticed. You need to alternate between heat and ice; that'll reduce the bruising and speed healing. It'll also help with your nipples..."

"How did you -"

"Guessed," Demi smirked. "Was it good?"

"Fucking amazing. Vince conditioned me to cum on command," Persephone responded with a grin.

"How long did that take?"

"One session - but I was previously conditioned for it, so I was primed for it."

"That doesn't make sense; it takes months for most people," Demi said. "I've never heard conditioning taking place so quickly."

Persephone shrugged. "I guess I'm highly suggestible."

"Okay - there's more to it than that. Spill," Demi demanded.

Persephone sighed. "Fine. I know you won't stop bugging me until I tell you. I was the victim of a brainwashing scheme. Unfortunately, one of its side effects made me highly susceptible to hypnotic suggestion and conditioning."

"I see. I'm sorry to hear that."

"I'm learning to live with it."

"Well, if you need someone to speak to, I'm always here," Demi offered. "It sounds rather traumatic."

'What? No grilling for more details?" Persephone joked.

"Maybe later." Demi winked. "I'll talk to you soon."

"Later," she replied.

She hung up and turned around to see Vince in the doorway to their bedroom. He was still wearing his blue-light blocking anti-glare glasses. He smiled and looked her over.

"So, how did the meeting go?" he asked.

"It went great, Sir. I think she'll go for it," she said with a wide grin.

"I'm proud of you," he said as he approached her.

She stood; Vince wrapped one arm around her waist and grabbed the hair on the back of her head, and kissed her. He assaulted her mouth with his tongue and lips and pressed his body against hers, crushing her tender breast. She gasped as her breasts ached and her heart raced.

He broke the kiss. "You're a good girl," he cooed.

Her knees went weak, and she melted into his arms. "I love you, Sir," she uttered. "Even when you're wearing those ridiculous orange glasses, you're still the sexiest man alive."

Vince didn't respond. "Um. Hold that thought," he said as he gently pushed her to the side. He looked down at her computer monitors, removed his glasses, then placed them back on. "That's weird."

"What's weird?"

"I can almost make out letters when I'm wearing my blue light glasses." He looked up at Persephone, and his mouth dropped open. "Shit."

"What?" she asked.

"I have a theory, but I'll need your computer," he said. He sat down in her chair and began shutting it down.

"Okay - you're not making any sense," Persephone said.

"Did any of the downloads for the conditioning videos seem larger than necessary?" he asked.

"Well, there was one that seemed unusually large, but I didn't think anything of it," she admitted. "What are you thinking?"

"That you've been receiving subliminal messaging on your computer this whole time. That might be why you seemed to revert yesterday during our scene."

Persephone felt as if Vince had punched her in the stomach. She sat down on her bed. "Get it out," she muttered. "Fucking get it out of this room."

Vince knelt and began unplugging wires. "That's exactly what I'm doing."

_____________

Petro listened intently to the audio output of his hidden microphone; he stared at the apartment building across from him.

"Sephie, I'm going to have to take this into the office," the male voice said. "I don't have the equipment here to analyze the virus that's doing this properly."

"Fuck, Vince - everything I've worked on is on that computer!!!" the female voice yelled. "Shit! I wish I'd never watched that fucking video!"

"I know - I get it, Sephie, but we have to know what's in this virus if we're to counteract it," the male said. "For all we know, we'll have to wipe your hard drive. But, unfortunately, the virus could be so embedded in your system that there is no alternative."

"NO - that's not an option!" she yelled.

"That may not be my decision to make, Sephie," he countered.

"I want to come with you, Sir."

"You know they won't let you in."

"I'll stay outside in the car," she argued. "Please..."

"No. It might be hours. Stay here, and I'll call as soon as I know what the prognosis is," the male said.

"I FUCKING HATE KRYSOLOV!" she screamed.

"I hate you, too, bitch," Petro muttered to himself.

"Please, Sephie. I'm sorry - you have to stay here."

Petro could hear a door close. Moments later, he saw a man walk out of the apartment building with a computer tower under one arm. He watched the man get into a car and drive away. "Finally, I've got you, you fucking whore."

He pulled out a gun and checked the clip, then slammed it back into his gun. With a flip of his thumb, he turned off the safety, then placed the gun in its holster under his jacket. He pulled the hood of his jacket up over his head and stepped out of the car.

Petro jogged over to the apartment building door looking side to side and up at the windows to see if anyone was watching. Then he opened the door slowly, so as not to make any noise. He was relieved to see that no one was in the stairwell.

Then he padded up the stairwell, checked the apartment number on the door to his left. He proceeded to pick the lock and opened the apartment door. Carefully he strolled into the apartment, gently placing the door against the frame without latching it. In the bedroom, he could hear sobbing. A wicked smile crossed his face.

He pulled out his gun and walked up to the door to the bedroom, still ajar. He spoke in a loud, clear voice, "Sertse poviyi," and Persephone's body froze. Then, he put his gun back into its holster and walked into the bedroom with a smile.

"You never thought you'd hear from me again, did you whore?" he said with a hair-raising chuckle. "Well, seeing as your boyfriend is responsible for toppling my business, I thought it only fair that I ruin his life in return."

"I can't -"

"No, you can't scream, my little whore." He stepped forward and ran his fingers across her burn scar. "Didn't you think I would have safeguards in place to ensure that I wouldn't get caught? That I might have programmed into you a phrase or two to prevent you from getting away? So beautiful and yet so stupid. You were mine the moment you watched the first video."

"Fuck you," she whispered.

"Oh - no, my dear - it is you that will be fucked. I've already lined up a new home for you - a whore house in the filthiest of third-world countries. A literal hell hole. Since I'm giving you away for free, they'll sell your services for cheap. You'll literally be a two-dollar whore," he said, inches away from her face.

"You'll never get away with this."

"Maybe not. Revenge is the act of a cornered rat. Funny that the rat catcher should become the rat, yes? Or what do you call me in America - the Pied Piper?" he asked.

"I've become stronger - I can resist you," she croaked.

"No, that's where you're wrong. You're as weak as you ever were, and soon I'll break your mind. I'm going to fucking break your mind so bad that you'll forget your name and your past. I'll chemically lobotomize you and train you to be nothing more than a set of holes, and you'll like it. Then, even if they do find you, you'll be so far gone that there will be nothing left of you to save," he threatened. "Doesn't that sound nice?"

Tears streamed down Persephone's face as a perverse sense of joy filled Petro's black heart. "Oh, how I love your tears..." he said before licking up the side of her face. "Stop crying now, whore. It's time to take you to be mind fucked." Persephone suddenly stopped crying.

"How did you do that?" she asked.

"Silence. Stand up," he commanded.

Persephone stood. Without hesitation, Petro reached behind him and pulled out a pair of metal cuffs. He quickly cuffed her hands behind her back, walked to her closet, pulled out a light jacket, and placed it around her shoulders. He gave her bruised breast a rough squeeze in the process.

"Follow me, whore. Don't say a word, don't try to signal anyone that you're in distress, act perfectly normal. Do you understand?" he asked.

Persephone nodded.

He opened the side of his jacket, revealing his gun. "In case you do manage to break my conditioning, I'd like you to know that I would not hesitate to shoot you dead. And once you're dead, I'll come for your boyfriend and put a bullet in his head as well. Do you understand?"

Persephone nodded.

"Come," he barked as he walked out of the apartment.

He looked around nervously and padded down to the building door. He then jogged straight to his car, with Persephone struggling to keep up behind him. He opened the car door and shoved her into the back. Petro got into the front seat of the car and turned the ignition.

"You like music? Yes? All Americans like music. Guess what? I don't," he snapped.

The car sped forward as Petro pressed down on the gas, skidding loudly out of the parking lot. He made his way to the highway, which was mostly empty due to COVID. A weight seemed to lift from Petro's shoulders. He was so delighted to get his revenge.

"You're going to be one fine piece of ass," he said as he glanced back at her. "I'm going to enjoy breaking you in. You can talk and cry all you want now - no one is going to save you now."

Persephone burst out in tears. "You're a monster," she said between sobs. "If there's a hell, I hope you burn in it."

"Sure, yes, I'm going to hell, but you're going there first. I find these things you say entertaining," he chuckled. "Please insult me again."

She just turned away from him and quietly sobbed.

"So weak and pathetic," he said to himself.

He caught a glimpse of a small red car behind him - something modest and fuel-efficient - driven by a young woman with mousy brown hair. Something felt wrong to Petro, so he sped up and changed lanes. Within a few moments, the red car changed lanes and got behind him. He gritted his teeth.

"What the fucking hell," he growled. He pulled off of the highway and found a place to pull off of the road. The red car continued to follow him. Finally, it stopped about ten yards away from his vehicle. "Stay here. I have something to deal with."

Petro stepped out of the car and pulled out his gun. He watched as the small mousy woman followed suit. She raised her weapon before he could raise his. "I guess I was wrong. I'm going to hell first," was his last thought before a bullet went through his head.

_____________

Kora pulled open the door to see Persephone lying on the back seat of the car. Persephone was sobbing uncontrollably with her hands behind her back. Kora reached behind Persephone and took a look at the handcuffs.

"Ms. Persephone Winther, My name is Kora Schuttmann, and I'm with the FBI. I apologize for misrepresenting myself. It was necessary to place you under surveillance for your protection. The man that you know as Petro Krysolov is dead, and you are safe." Kora stated.

Persephone whimpered, "I can't move."

"Oh - Oh! I'll get the key and release you from those cuffs right away, ma'am."

Kora glanced to the steering column and saw that Petro's keys were still in the ignition. She reached over and grabbed the keys, then started looking through them. One stood out from the rest.

"I think this will undo the cuffs," she said as she reached in to release Persephone. The handcuffs came off, but Persephone still didn't move from her position.

"I can't move because he has me hypnotized," Persephone said.

"Well, he's dead. He can't say the trigger word to release you. You'll have to convince yourself he's dead and that his commands no longer apply," Kora stated.

"I need to see him."

"I'm sorry, ma'am; I don't have the upper body strength to pull you from the car. The local police and a dispatch of FBI agents will be here momentarily. Perhaps they can help you better than I can."

"I need to see that he's dead!" Persephone yelled.

Kora huffed in frustration. She spotted a handkerchief in Petro's pocket. With her forefinger and thumb, she pulled it out of his pocket, touching as little of the piece of cloth as possible, and dipped the other end in the growing pool of blood pouring from his skull. Then Kora held it up so Persephone can see.

"This is his handkerchief off of his body dipped in his blood. He's dead, ma'am," she insisted.

Persephone lifted her head and pushed herself up, trembling. Then she looked past Kora to see Petro's body on the ground and launched herself at Kora, wrapping her arms around her.

"THANK YOU!!!" she sobbed.

Kora looked shocked and held her arms away from Persephone. "Uh, ma'am? I wasn't lying when I confessed that I'm on the autistic spectrum. I don't like to be touched."

Persephone hugged Kora tighter.

"Uh, ma'am? Oh, fuck it." Kora gingerly patted Persephone's back, trying to touch as little of her as possible.

Persephone slowly backed away from Kora. "I'm sorry," she said as she wiped her tears. "I know - you're afraid of COVID, right?"

Kora looked away. "No. I mean, yes but - I'm just not well equipped for consoling others. Touching other people is... disturbing to me."

"How much of what you told me was true?" she asked Kora.

"Almost all of it. Except for the part of wanting to be your Domme; I like you a lot, but the idea of having sex is also disturbing to me," Kora admitted as she glanced up and then back down.

"Then why say it?"

"I thought it was funny, and it gave me an excuse to see you one more time. You really are, uh, pretty."

"Even with my scar?" Persephone asked.

"I like asymmetry," Kora said. She then realized that she had crossed a line - and repeatedly. Fear gripped her heart; Persephone would only have to tell her superior, and she would be fired. "Oh. This is very unprofessional of me - I shouldn't be talking about myself. I apologize," she said as she tried to leave.

"No - stop. It's okay," Persephone said. "You really don't have many friends, do you?"

"Uh, no. Not really." Kora looked down in shame.

"I want to be your friend," Persephone said. "You saved my life; I owe you that much."

"Even though I'm creepy and weird?" Kora looked up at Persephone.

"I'm creepy and weird, too," Persephone smirked. "And I promised to be clothed when I answer the door next time."

"Oh, I don't mind that. It arouses me." Kora's eyes suddenly widened, and she clapped her hands over her mouth. "I shouldn't have said that."

Persephone raised an eyebrow and smiled. "You can look at me anytime you want. And if you fantasize about me, I'll consider it a compliment. I'm sure Vince won't mind."

Kora blushed and looked away as a small smile nervously cracked along her face. "We - we can continue this conversation later. The others should be along any moment, and I have a report to fill out." She turned, then turned back to Persephone. "This is just between us?"

"My lips are sealed," Persephone said.