Total Control
Record producer Sue was secretly irritated by Mark's timid but unshakeable insistence that a second meeting was necessary in order to sign his contract. He said "Monica" wanted to know the numbers.
Mark had a song to sell to Sue's label, and he seemed reasonable. He seemed to understand that he was a very lucky average Joe, about to receive a workingman's treasure, yet he was courteous and sweet, apparently aware that he was in over his head, no candidate for playing "hardball" with a serious company. He did ask sensible questions about payments, and copyrights, and under normal circumstances Sue would have effortlessly walked him through a decent deal, one that the label could live with, one that treated him reasonably by industry standards, in a fashion so pleasant that the manipulation left no prints. But however apologetic and meek he was with her otherwise, he insisted Monica had to be brought in.
So after obligatory pleasantries were exchanged, Sue reprised the deal for Monica, yet still focusing on Mark. But Mark kept looking away, looking at Monica.
"I can tell you think highly of Monica, and trust her, Mark, but she's a friend, an advisor. You have to make these decisions yourself," Sue said warmly.
Mark remained silent.
Monica was the one to respond. "If you look into that binder you'll see that I have complete authority regarding his legal and financial affairs. I am the primary beneficiary listed on his pensions, and more importantly, the power of attorney documentation is all there. Let's get down to business. You and I."
"But he's competent," Sue sputtered, flabbergasted. She'd only seen these situations in the case where someone was actually INcompetent.
"Look...I CONTROL Mark," Monica said. "Would you like a demonstration?"
Sue nodded, silent.
Mark's chair was facing Sue. Monica rose and stood behind Mark. Her right hand fell upon his shoulder. She put the index finger of her left hand in his mouth.
Mark was looking off into space with a vacant expression, and began sucking Monica's index finger, automatically reaching into his trousers. Sue freaked as she realized he was playing with himself. Monica took her finger out of Mark's mouth and he stopped moving his hand, still staring into space. Monica smiled at Sue and put her finger back into his mouth. Immediately, he resumed masturbating. Monica just kept smiling at Sue and cooing "good boy" to Mark.
Mark felt like he was drugged, or schizophrenic, or watching himself from a remote vantage point. He was aware of Sue still attempting to negotiate with him but it made him uneasy, sensing that Goddess was becoming displeased.
He watched himself, as if from the ceiling, still facing Sue in the chair, quietly but unmistakably fondling himself with his Goddess standing behind him. Monica rested one hand on his shoulder and slid the index finger of the other hand into his mouth, moving back and forth.
He sucked, with no discomfort or shame, hazily cognizant of the fact that Sue was observing all this. It didn't matter, it never did. When his Goddess put her finger in his mouth he felt emptied of thought, enveloped by pure pleasure and contentment.
He didn't know if he was symbolically sucking her cock, or a baby at her breast, or a baby with a pacifier, all he knew was that he felt no shame or concern for his dignity. He was enslaved, hypnotized, brainscrubbed. Sometimes she would make him kneel and look into her eyes while that finger moved in his mouth, and her words become his thoughts long after he'd been dismissed.
"Now," said Monica to Sue. "Ready to talk business with ME?"
With a blink of sudden understanding, Sue offered the contracts.