The Truest Control Ch. 03

He'd never been to a dinner at a fancy restaurant before, and when he looked up the restaurant online, it seemed like it was a pretty fancy place indeed. Not quite tuxedo-only, but not the kind of place where people would go in jeans and sneakers, so he ended up buying some nice clothes for their first date. He really had no idea how to dress up or what constituted appropriate attire, so he just made his best guess. He hoped it would be pleasing for her. A part of him realised how ridiculous it was that he was buying dress clothes for a first date with a woman he barely knew, but he was nervous enough about the whole thing that anxiety and self-doubt overrode whatever rational sense he could try to muster regarding the matter. It was more important to please her than to risk upsetting her. He remembered how suddenly she'd gotten upset when he hesitated in the park yesterday, and he wanted to avoid doing that again at any cost.

He showed up on time, but she wasn't there. For a moment, he had a terrible thought that it had all been a joke, that she'd told him to meet her here just so she could stand him up as a way of making him feel weak and stupid, and so it was with a flood of relief that he finally saw her walking toward him a few minutes later. She was maybe five minutes late, because it had been important for her to be able to observe him as he waited for her, for her to be able to see him without seeing her, so that she could prepare to be in control of the events of the evening.

She offered him a radiant smile as she walked up. "I'm sorry I'm late," she said in the most honey-sweet voice he'd ever heard. Except that he barely heard it, barely even registered her words, because in front of him was Liz wearing a cleavage-baring dress that brought his attention to her abundant assets in a way that he hadn't seen before.

In truth, Liz was not a large-breasted woman; she was average at most, but she would never have admitted it to anyone, certainly not to Roger. Liz knew as well as anyone that when it comes to manipulating men, breasts are power, and that a man will readily do things for a large-breasted woman that he would never do for anyone else. It was for this reason that she had combined the low-cut dress with a padded push-up bra hidden underneath. It was a simple trick, and one which many women didn't like because it was fake, but for Liz, it was important to maintain the upper hand, and that meant ensuring that Roger understood that she was above him in every way. Just as she convinced him that his penis was small, she would convince him that her breasts were large. Of course, if they ever got into a situation where she'd have to take her bra off, the illusion would be shattered, but this was not a concern for two reasons. First of all, she had no intention of taking it off any time soon, and if things went well, she might never have to do so in his presence, since it would be easy to deny him the privilege of seeing her undressed. Secondly, even if she ever did decide to allow him to see her nude, the illusion that her breasts were huge would by then be so thoroughly implanted into his mind that he would still believe they were large upon seeing them, no matter what his eyes told him, just as she would gradually convince him that his penis was weak and inadequate no matter how much pleasure she received from it.

It took only one look for Liz to know that it was working. Roger was not the kind of guy to stare; he had been taught well enough to understand that it was impolite to stare at a woman's breasts, but even so, he couldn't stop himself from letting his gaze stare at them a little too long, more than long enough for Liz to notice how he reacted. She knew that the effect would be exactly what she wanted: her breasts would hypnotize Roger, making sure that his attention was so thoroughly distracted that she could speak to him without him thinking about what she was saying, allowing her to plant thoughts directly into his mind without the risk of him rationally thinking about them. Things were off to a good start.

"It's okay," Roger said after a moment in response to her apology for being late. "I mean, I don't mind," he gasped in a voice that was more an exhalation than a vocalization.

"Of course you don't mind," she said with a giggle. "You don't mind anything that I do. You'll let me do anything I want." And then, after a moment, her face suddenly became very stern again. "Won't you, Roger?"

She asked the question with such a sudden harsh tone that Roger actually stepped back and put up his hands, as if to defend himself. "Of course, of course," he babbled. "You can do whatever you want. I won't mind."

"It's not just that you don't mind," she said slowly, as if to make sure that he could understand her words. "Youwant me to do whatever I want. It's important to you that I get whatever I want, and that I'm allowed to do whatever I want, and that you'll help me to get what I want and do what I want." After a pause in which Roger stared at her in dumb silence, she asked pointedly: "Won't you?"

"Yes, yes, of c-course," Roger said, stammering.

"Good, I'm glad. That makes me happy," she said with another brilliant smile. "You like making me happy, don't you, Roger?"

"Of course, Liz," he said, nodding with agreement.

"Then tell me," she said quietly.

"Tell you what?"

"Tell me what you like doing," she said with a playful smirk.

"Um... I like making you happy."

"Tell me that you'll do anything to allow me to get what I want."

"Um... I will do anything to allow you to get what you want," he repeated. She could tell by the way his eyes were still on her breasts that he wasn't really paying attention to what he was saying. Good. Everything was going according to plan.

"Let's go inside, shall we?" she said, motioning with her head toward the restaurant.

"Yes, okay," Roger agreed, walking to the door and opening it.

As Roger began to step inside, Liz suddenly barked out: "STOP!" Roger, in some alarm, let go of the door and turned back to look at her.

"What kind of a gentleman are you?" she asked him with a hint of anger in her voice. "You're taking a lady out to dinner and going in before her? You're supposed to hold the door open for a lady, you subhuman male."

She saw that he was actually shaking now. A combination of fear, anxiety, confusion, and something else was taking hold of him and causing him to tremble visibly. That was a very good sign. "I'm sorry," he blurted, opening the door again and stepping aside to allow her to enter.

"That's better," she said. "Make sure you don't make this same mistake again. I won't be so forgiving next time." Without waiting for an answer, she went inside, allowing him to trail after her.

It was one of those restaurants where the dishes were too fancy for someone like Roger to even recognize them. Various names, many of them French, most somehow foreign in origin, stood on the menu, and Roger had no idea what most of them were. He mentioned this to Liz, who offered to order for him, which he readily agreed to. She smiled in appreciation, took his menu from him, and when the waiter came, she ordered for both of them. Roger didn't even recognize what the food was when it arrived, but it was good, so he ate without complaint.

About half-way through the meal, she asked him suddenly: "Roger, my dear, I need to go to the bathroom for a moment. Could you please find it for me?"

Roger nodded. "Not a problem, we can ask the waiter."

"No, I want you to search for it. I think it would be more exciting to watch you try to find it for me."

Roger stared at her for just a moment, her breasts peeking out of the top of her dress still ensuring that he had no hope of resisting. He got up and looked around, and as she hoped, it was absolutely adorable to see him lost, wandering around trying to find something because she'd made him look for it. It was a wonderful feeling for her to make a man search for something, especially something which does not exist and therefore which he could never find. Of course, the restaurant's bathroom did exist in this case, and so she knew that she would have to act quickly once Roger disappeared out of view.

When he'd gone around a corner and they could no longer see each other, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small bottle of a powder which she sprinkled on his food and in his drink. It was a combination of an aphrodisiac, a sedative, a truth serum, and an agent known to cause long-term permanent decrease in intelligence. It was important for him to remain constantly sexually aroused, because this would cause him to do whatever she said. It was also important that he remain calm, so that he wouldn't act too unpredictably, as a man sometimes can when his sexual arousal is prolonged over an extended period of time. And of course, it was important that he not be too intelligent, or better yet, that he become unintelligent over time. Liz liked to control stupid men, but she liked making them stupid even more, and Roger was obviously an intelligent guy. As time went by, she would put more of the chemical in his food and drink, permanently lowering his IQ by a few points each time. She would take his intelligence away from him slowly, making him a dumb idiot who would be easy for her to outsmart. Once she took away his intelligence, she would own that part of him forever; she would always be the one who made a smart guy into a stupid one, and she liked the idea of that victory. It was better than taking a guy's virginity, because its effects would be permanent and it would impact everything he did, every thought he tried to have. And when he found that he was too stupid to think anymore, she would do his thinking for him.

When Roger came back and told her where the bathroom could be found, she was rummaging through her purse. She thanked him and stood up. "Be a dear and watch my purse while I'm gone, won't you?" she asked. As she did so, she placed the purse, still open, on her chair in such a way that Roger could just glimpse a pair of handcuffs gleaming inside. As Roger glanced at the purse, the expression on his face confirmed that he'd noticed them. Good. That would ensure that he wouldn't be able to have any rational thoughts while she was gone.

In fact, Roger was still staring at the handcuffs when she got back. She almost laughed out loud. It seemed as if he'd taken her words to heart and literally kept his gaze on her purse the whole time, not moving a muscle while she'd been in the bathroom. He was even more suggestive than she'd hoped.

They resumed eating, and to make some light conversation, she asked him: "How did you feel when I called you a subhuman male?"

Roger paused. "Um..." he said, his voice trailing off. It wasn't clear when the powder would begin to lower his intelligence; its effects were meant to be long-term, and it probably wasn't doing very much to him right now, but the constant presence of her breasts on display meant that he was plenty stupid right now, even without the powder.

"Is that all you can say?" she asked with a giggle. "I guess I must have been right, then. You really are a dummy. What does a drooling idiot like you do for a living, Roger?"

"Actually, I'm fairly intelligent," Roger said, recovering himself for just a moment. "I work as a software developer."

"Oooh, you must make a lot of money, then, Roger, am I right?" she cooed with a knowing smile.

"Well... I mean, I don't know if it's a lot, but..."

"Do you live in a house or an apartment?" she asked.

"A house," he answered.

"Do you own it or are you renting it?"

"I own it."

"Are you still mortgaging it?"

"No, that's done... I own it outright."

Perfect. Intelligent, rich, and with a house. He had it all, and that meant it was all hers to take from him.

"I'm glad to hear it," she said. "Since you're such a well-off guy, you'd like to pay for our dinner, wouldn't you, Roger?"

"Um... Yes, sure, that would be fine."

"It's more than just fine," she insisted. "Do you want to know something? I love using guys for money."

"I see," Roger said slowly, not knowing how to react to this.

"And do you want to know a secret?" she pressed further.

"Yes, certainly," he said.

She leaned forward to whisper in his ear, and as she did so, that magnificent cleavage hung even more powerfully and filled even more of his field of vision. The words she whispered in his ear went directly into his subconscious without the possibility of him even considering them: "You love it when I use you for money."

She sat back down, and he was not quite sure whether she'd said something. Wait, no, she must have said something, but he couldn't remember what it was. It must have been something important given the significance with which she said it, but he didn't want to ask her to repeat herself, so he nodded in agreement and just said "Yes."

"I'm glad you agree," she said, offering her most radiant smile of the evening. "Then let's call for the check, and you can pay for us."

When they were back outside and getting ready to part ways for the night, Liz handed Roger a small notebook. "Give me your address and cell phone number," she instructed. Roger wasn't sure whether it was normal to share this information after a first date, and he certainly wasn't going to ask her, so he obediently wrote the requested information down.

When she took the notebook back, he asked: "Aren't you going to tell me yours?"

"Of course not, darling," she said with a giggle. "Don't you understand by now that in our relationship, it's my role to take, and your role to give? I take from you and you give to me, not the other way around."

"I see... Yes, I guess that makes sense," Roger said, by this point too far under her spell to question what she said.

"Youguess?" she asked sharply.

"I mean, I'm sure, I'm sure," he babbled. "You're right, that makes sense."

"I'm glad you agree," she said, returning to her smile. "Since you agree that it's your role in life to give to me, I have one other thing I'd like you to give me tonight, Roger."

"Okay... And what is that?"

"A promise."

"All right. A promise of what?"

"When you get home tonight, Roger, your first plan is that you're going to masturbate yourself silly until you have a big wet orgasm. Isn't that right, Roger?"

Roger paused. Even from someone like Liz, he hadn't expected a question like this.

"I asked you a question," she said sharply.

"Yes, yes, yes," Roger answered hurriedly, too fightened to even think about his answer. "I'm going to do that, yes."

"No, you're not," she replied. "Since we're a couple now, I'd like you to hold your orgasms for me, to reserve them for only when we're together. I want to be there to personally experience every single orgasm you have. That means that tonight, when you're at home alone, you're not going to have an orgasm, because you're more pleasing to me when you haven't had an orgasm recently. So I want you to promise me that you won't have an orgasm before the next time we meet."

Even in his present state, Roger had the presence of mind to ask a rational question now: "When will we next meet?"

"I will decide that. It's for me to know, and for you to find out. But I promise you that it won't be very long. We'll see each other very soon, darling."

Roger hesitated for just a moment. Going through this night without an orgasm when he was in this mental and physical state would be unthinkable. He was so aroused that his state of total arousal would continue until he orgasmed. He wouldn't be able to sleep well, and he would wake up in the morning feeling unable to make it through the day. He really didn't want to have to go through something like that.

"Am I seeing hesitation from you?" she asked.

"No," he said quickly.

"It sure looks like it is. You agree to promise, then?"

"Yes, I promise."

"Then say it. Tell me the exact words of your promise."

Roger cleared his throat. "I promise to you, Liz, that I will not orgasm before the next time we meet." What else could he say? He was afraid of what she might do if he didn't agree. And he was also afraid that if they saw each other again soon, he might not be able to please her if he'd orgasmed recently.

"I'm so happy to hear it!" she exulted. And with that, she rewarded his promise with a hug, pressing her breasts which he thought were huge into his chest. "You've made me a very happy woman, Roger. I haven't felt this happy in a long time. And I hope you're happy, too."

"Yes. Yes, I am," he affirmed.

"What a wonderful first date!" she said, doing a little dance of happiness. "Now it's time for us to say goodbye for the night, but I promise you that you'll see me soon, lover. Wait for me, okay?"

"Of course, Liz," Roger said. "I will wait for you."

"Goodnight, then, sweetheart!" Liz called out as she skipped down the street, her happy-little-girl demeanor a stark contrast to the commanding and intimidating presence she'd carried throughout the evening. In another moment, Roger was alone, standing on the sidewalk with the feeling that his life was about to go through some major changes.