Gene Therapy - Dose 04B

Also sitting at the table was a trust fund brat named Brad, and his fiancé Mary. She came from old money and likely had a considerable sum waiting for her, while Brad was only worth the little over $50 million that his late parents had left him. Their relationship seemed quite different than you'd expect based on their financial standing, with Brad being overbearingly controlling. It seemed he was using her self-esteem issues against her, and watching them was rather unpleasant.

I focused on the Grants, however, as they had been my primary target for the evening. Doing my best to ignore the obnoxious Brad, I made small talk with the older couple. They were pleasant enough, and my pheromones made quite the positive impact on the pair. In between speeches complementing the guests, and dinner being served, we talked until they started to open up about what they really wanted.

The 60-something year old Grace had only had a single daughter, and was now well past menopause. While my pheromones did trigger a level of arousal in her, it seemed that the primary effect was to intensify her already great desire to have grandchildren. When Grace brought up the problems they were having in that department rather abruptly, her husband Will wasn't at all surprised, as he shared the same concern as his wife.

After having their daughter rather late at 40, Grace had wanted to try for another child. Before one could be conceived, however, a medical condition intervened, forcing her to have a hysterectomy. As their precious daughter got older, they discovered that she is a lesbian. Having a rather modern outlook, they didn't mind their daughter's sexual alignment. The problem came when they realized that she had no interest in having children, meaning no grandchildren for the Grants.

After plenty of talking, and plenty of arguments, their daughter Laura never budged on her positon. The most she would commit to would be letting her spouse bear a child, assuming she found the right woman someday. While a child born this way would likely ease their desires, the fact remained that it wouldn't be a genetic descendant... There wouldn't be another child with Grant blood.

It was about then that I noticed the impudent Brad flirting with one of the servers, grabbing the girl's soft ass in plain view of his fiancé. After overhearing the odd couple for the last hour, I finally reached my limit, and resolved to do something. I focused on the matter at hand, however, and continued my work with the Grants.

They knew that I was a professor at the university, but now I told them that I was starting a scientific foundation that would work to solve problems such as their own. The possibility of a solution seized their attention like a vice, intensifying their interest in me. When I told them that I'd be happy to examine Laura for them, that there was likely a medical reason she was averse to childbirth, they were ecstatic. I gave them my card, and told them to arrange a meeting. If the tests were conclusive, she could be cured the same day.

I didn't pressure them for donations, though they likely would have complied, instead just suggesting that they should arrange the meeting sooner rather than later. The couple were extremely happy, and Grace had become more than a little aroused over the course an hour in close proximity to me. I suggested that they enjoy a dance to celebrate, and when they readily agreed to the idea I turned my attention to Mary.

Though sitting opposite me at the table, she had become increasingly drawn to me as my somewhat dispersed pheromones reached her nose. Brad was still fooling around with the server, so I took the opportunity to get up and sit lightly in the chair next to her.

She looked a bit surprised that I had approached her. "Oh! Umm... Hi, ahh, Dr. Zephyr, right?"

I gave her a warm smile to reassure her. "Yes, that's correct. And you are Mary Monroe. Dear, you simply must tell me, why do you let that boy treat you that way?"

She was a bit surprised at the sudden question. "Well, umm, he's handsome, and he's willing to be with me. I love him, and he has money, so I know he's not just after my inheritance... Really though, a girl like me? I mean..."

I cut her off there. "Mary, I don't know what he's told you, but there are plenty of men who would love to be with you. You shouldn't be so hard on yourself, you're a lovely girl with an attractive figure. If only you'd open your eyes, there are plenty of men who'd be happy for you to look their way."

I could tell she was already under my sway, as color flooded her cheeks in a mixture of arousal and embarrassment at my complements. She looked up, growing bolder as her need started to displace her fear. "What about you? Would you have me?"

I gave her a sad smile. "Yes, were only circumstances different. I can't be with you, but that doesn't make what I've said any less true. You have Brad too, remember. I'd love to help you though, if you'd give me the chance."

I could see some disappointment there, and my new assessment of her was conflicting with her deeply held beliefs. "Oh, I see..."

I handed her a neatly wrapped cum drop. "Here, enjoy this candy, and think about what I told you. You are better than you give yourself credit for. If you wish, I can talk to you and Brad at your hotel tonight. I'll help him realize that he should be treating you far better."

Mary unwrapped the cum drop, giving me a hopeful smile. "Okay, I think I'd like that." She popped the white candy into her mouth.

I watched her surprised reaction as she tasted the candy. She seemed perplexed because it was delicious but she couldn't identify the flavor. "Okay Mary, I have to make the rounds." I handed her a business card. "Take this, text me at that number with your hotel information if you want me to join you. Best would be if I joined you shortly after you arrive yourselves."

She was still sucking on the candy, trying to figure out the flavor. "Okay, I will."

I left her to start making my rounds among the guests. I had several secondary targets identified. My plan was to leave a positive impression, give them a business card, and then wait for them to schedule a meeting. If the target was female, or had a female +1, I'd give them a cum drop as well to help spur interest. I originally didn't plan on impregnating anyone at the party, knocking up a bunch of wealthy women would be too likely to draw attention. It seemed that I'd be making an exception for Mary and the Grants' daughter, Laura.

I watched Mary out of the corner of my eye as she reached the liquid center and had an orgasm. Brad had joined her again, but wasn't paying attention and didn't notice her struggling to hide her pleasure from view. It wasn't long after that when I received a text message from her with their hotel information and a promise to text again when she knew when they'd arrive that night.

Overall the banquet went well. I made a solid inroad with the Grants, who left early to take advantage of the arousal I had inspired in Grace. I made contact with a few dozen potential donors, most of them pretty strongly inspired to donate to my cause. I also had plans to deal with Brad and Mary, which to be honest wasn't entirely about helping Mary. While the donations from tonight would be legitimate and tax deductible, Brad's gift was qualified for my personal accounts.

Of course, the foundation's activities wouldn't be entirely above-board; in reality it would hardly be a legitimate NGO at all. But it would all be legal, or at least in that legal grey area where things are technically legal, but only by exploiting loop holes and poorly thought-out verbiage in the law.

I'm not going to discuss all the encounters with all the donors, as I mentioned earlier I didn't have sex with them. They typically made large donations, but those donations were quite reasonable for their wealth. They wouldn't have to give up whatever toy they were looking forward to purchasing, whether it was a supercar or new Gulfstream. I also made some connections through them, so that I could reach new donors at a later date.

These secondary targets were responsible for adding around $200 million to my foundation's coffers, more than enough to get things started. And of course, there were the Grants who donated as well, though I'll get to them in a bit. All things considered, a pretty impressive haul. Villains everywhere would love to be so lucky, but I did it with only some pheromones and a bit of smarts. No super powers, shadowy agencies, or global conspiracies required.

If I may wax a bit philosophical here, I'd say that power, at the fundamental level, is the ability to influence people. To control what people do, or get them to do what you want. Knowledge is power, because knowledge can be used to influence people. Money is power, because money also influences people. Political power, regulatory power, star power, everything comes back to influence and control.

This experience among the rich and powerful gave me a new appreciation for my abilities. Sure, I can make women horny, but I can also influence people, control them, even if only to a limited extent. I began to realize that the power of my abilities was really only limited to the power of those I influenced. If there was something I wanted, wasn't there a person or persons I could influence to get it? If so, didn't that place everything within my grasp? And the most worrisome, if I murdered someone, even if caught red-handed, wouldn't my influence over the police, detectives, and the district attorney's office mean that I'd walk free? And even if there was a trial, wouldn't my influence over the prosecutor, witnesses, judge, and jury eventually lead to the same result?

The saying goes, "power corrupts, absolute power corrupts absolutely." I don't believe that I'm a bad person overall, though I do subjugate the wills of others. I at least try to remain benevolent in the use of my influence. Still, I became worried of going overboard with my power, becoming maniacal and corrupt. I also feared rising too far as Icarus did, melting the wax holding my wings together. No matter how powerful, I know there are limits to what I can do. I may be able to influence a person, but I can't influence a bullet, drone, or bomb. So I started making a code, at least the beginnings of it, after this fundraising extravaganza.

Not just to keep me ethical and limit my corruption, but also to keep me alive.

One thing I vowed to do was use my ability for the good of my fellow man. I know that sounds funny coming from the guy that's basically mind controlling people and impregnating women left and right. Still, I can serve more than just myself. I've been trying slowly and gently to nudge this country to a better place. I convinced a certain person to run for president, for example, though he didn't succeed at the primaries. I gave a little support, but underestimated the level of power wielded in favor of the establishment's chosen candidate. Still, I've done good in other ways, such as trying to influence those in power in favor of net neutrality, though money often speaks louder than I do. I refuse to order politicians to do things, I don't want to supplant democracy... but it means I succeed far less often than I'd like.

Log 09 – Couple's Therapy

[#] CAUTION: This log contains a little sadistic cuckoldry, as I punish Brad for being a douche. Nothing too bad, but if you are really averse to that type of content, you may want to skip to Log 10. [#]

When the fundraiser was starting to wind down, I left a little early to make my way to Brad and Mary's hotel. I told Mary via text to try and bring Brad to the room right away, instead of going out elsewhere. I had some plans for Brad's attitude readjustment. I may not have been clear earlier about just how much I disliked the douche, but my reasons for finding him repugnant went well beyond his treatment of Mary.

When I arrived at the 5-star hotel, located in a prime spot downtown, I went immediately to the check-in counter. The refined gentleman manning the counter was helpful in providing me a key to Mary's room, once we discovered that the room was under her name rather than Brad's. It didn't really surprise me that he'd have her cover the hotel bill.

When I arrived at their suite, I immediately went to work setting up the "therapy session" I had in mind for the two. This largely consisted of turning the lights up, and positioning a rather nice high-back padded wooden chair near the bed so that Brad would have a good view of what I was doing to Mary. I had brought along a set of long and sturdy zip ties that I had acquired for just such a purpose. I prepared the zip ties by fastening one around the wood of each arm rest, leaving a large loop for Brad to slip his hands into. I also fastened two on each of the wooden front chair legs, above the support bar so they couldn't slip off. This left large loops ready for Brad's legs.

I fetched a few glasses, and bottles of water, and neatly hung up my tux jacket and vest, along with my bow tie. Then it was just a matter of sitting and waiting until the couple arrived, which according to Mary would be any time now.

I suppose I should take a moment to describe Mary, so that you get a good mental picture. She certainly isn't a beauty, but neither is she ugly. I imagine that growing up in wealth, surrounded by beautiful people, only intensified the normal messages from advertising and media about beauty. Throw in an ass like Brad to manipulate those insecurities, and that's where you start to have problems with self-esteem.

Mary's worst feature was probably her height. She probably stands nearly six feet tall without any help from shoes. While being tall is often considered beautiful on the (literally-deformed) narrow bodies of models, Mary had a normal frame. Her proportions were fine, her shoulders pretty much spot-on the expected width based on her bone structure and height... But even though proportionally she was perfectly normal, her body was still large. While from a distance she looked really good, and you could admire her hourglass proportions, up close she seemed too large. It gave her the presence of a giantess, and it probably didn't help her feel normal when she was taller than many men.

Otherwise though, she was average or better. Her hips would be good for childbirth because of the increased dimensions, but her hips were actually wider than normal proportions in a way that drove men wild only a century ago. Her breasts were probably a 40D cup, but that would only be because of the large band size due to her rib cage. A bra size 36DDD is the same as 38DD, which is the same as 40D, at least when it comes to breast volume. Her breasts fit her body nicely, but in absolute terms they would be very large compared to a smaller girl.

Mary's body was soft, but not fat to the point you could call her chubby. She had obviously been concerned about gaining weight, and thus avoided it. If she did the right exercises she'd quickly look toned, but she probably didn't want to build muscle that might make her look any bigger. While aside from her size her body was rather nice, her face was more average. Perhaps a 6 out of 10. It seems her awkwardness had led her to missing out on a lot of beauty techniques such as makeup that would bump that number up, at least temporarily.

* * * * *

Brad entered the suite first, complaining to Mary without looking back as he strode into the suite without her. She was struggling with two carry-on bags and her purse, which rekindled the anger I felt toward the impudent little snot.

It took him a few moments to notice me, seated on the couch in the suite's living room. "Hey! Who the fuck are you, and why are you in my room?"

I stood up and walked over to him, answering as I did. "Do you not remember me from the banquet? I'm Dr. Zephyr."

Once he got a better look, he seemed to remember my face. He turned to Mary who had walked up beside and slightly behind him. "Did you invite this asshole here without asking me first? Why the fuck would you think that you can..."

I had stopped only a pace from Brad, whose cheeks were flushed with anger as he immediately blamed Mary. I reached out with one hand, grabbing Brad's jaw firmly. It was a strong grip, with my palm sideways under his turned chin, while my fingers and thumbs clenched the bone on opposite sides. He was shocked, and immediately stopped talking, and I forced his head to turn and face me before leaning in and speaking only inches from his face. "Shut up Brad, you have the manners of a filthy reprobate. I am your guest." With that I pushed against his jaw and released it as I stood up straight.

Mary was a bit surprised, but seemed glad I was there. "Hello Dr. Zephyr, welcome... Ah, I'm sorry about Brad."

Brad's look of rage had transformed into one of confusion and fear. He started to stammer out a non-committal apology, but I ignored him and replied to Mary. "It's okay my dear, and please don't demean yourself by apologizing for this degenerate."

Brad's bravado caused him to open his mouth in order to return my insults. He should have been smart enough to know better, but I suppose he wasn't used to being insulted. He had only managed a single word before I silenced him with a single finger held in front of his face. "Brad, you are about to make me angry with your disrespectful behavior. I suggest you quit while you're ahead."

I turned back to Mary. "As I was saying, I'm here to make sure you won't feel the need to apologize for him again, nor listen to his sniveling insults. He'll soon know his place, and just how lucky he is to have you."

Mary pushed past Brad, wrapping her arms around me. "Oh thank you Dr. Zephyr, thank you."

I gave Brad a firm look, letting him know I wouldn't tolerate any more stupidity. He had tensed up, like he wanted to punish Mary for hugging me, but immediately slouched back down under my gaze. "Please Mary, call me David. I'm glad to help."

She squeezed me harder, and I could feel her inhaling through her nose that was pushed against my neck along with the rest of her face. "Okay. Thanks David, I really mean it."

She wasn't letting go, and I knew that her hug had turned into an excuse to touch me, rather than an expression of gratitude. "Okay dear, if you're ready, let us all head into the bedroom to start the lesson." I stepped back, pulling away from her hug.

I walked across the room, pausing at the double doors leading to the bedroom area. Mary was right behind me, but Brad hadn't moved. "Come along Brad." He reluctantly started shuffling towards the bedroom.

In the brightly-lit bedroom, I led Mary by the arm and positioned her to stand next to the bed in front of the chair I had prepared. I looked at the sullen Brad, and pointed at the chair. "Sit."

He slowly made his way to the chair, noticing the zip ties before he reluctantly sat down. "Okay Brad, for your own safety, you're going to place your feet through the zip ties attached to the legs of your chair."

He was taking his time, resistant to the idea of being tied up, but not sure what else to do. "Hurry it up Brad, I have no patience for your precocious stalling."

Once both legs were through the loops of the zip ties, I placed a comforting hand on Mary's lower back and continued with my instructions. "Okay, bend over and pull the zip ties until they are snug around your ankles."

He complied, a lot more quickly this time, and sat up again. "Okay, put one hand through the zip tie on your armrest, and use your other hand to tighten it."

He chose his left arm, pulling the zip tie until his wrist was tightly fastened to the armrest. "Okay Brad, put your other hand through the open loop on the other armrest." I waited until he had done so. "Mary, go tighten that last zip tie."