Sam I Am Ch. 03

Things had now been set in motion: the plane ticket had been bought, and they would see each other in two weeks, but she didn't want to spend those two weeks just waiting. Time was precious, and she wanted to fit as much productive time in those two weeks as she could.

To any outside observer, it might have seemed that she was eagerly anticipating the end of the two weeks of waiting, that she was trying to get him as excited as possible for the time when they would be together. But although he certainly didn't know it at the time, she was actually planning a much longer project, playing a long game in which things would continue happening well after the trip was over. She had been observing this man for years before finally deciding to take steps to turn him into her property, and after waiting for so long, she was willing to take the time to do things carefully and methodically. Although they only spoke in terms of their pending meetup, everything she said to him was said with a mind toward a longer-term future.

The human brain is a flexible thing, but it adapts itself to changes relatively slowly. Events which transpire only in a moment are usually witnessed and then quickly forgotten. Now that she had his attention, she needed to be able to retain it, and that meant keeping him long-term in a mental state in which his thoughts were where she wanted them to be. At least once per conversation, often several times in one conversation, she would plant the seed of a thought, just the tiniest, most subtle seed, something he probably wouldn't even notice because his conscious thoughts would be overwhelmed with much louder thoughts, but the seeds, once planted, would nestle into the crevices of his brain and grow, such that he would begin to have thoughts which he hadn't had before. A woman's greatest pride often comes from being able to convince a man that her idea was his idea, that whatever she wanted was actually what he wanted, because then his natural ego will cause him to follow this idea through, all the while thinking that it was his own idea. Sam was an ideal guy for such a project, because he lacked a self-identity, meaning he was a blank canvas for her to design her own identity on. Once this work began, he would begin to forget himself and become an extension of her own plan for him.

The night after he'd booked the plane ticket, she insisted on doing another video call so that she could watch him and his reactions. Text had been a good starting point, but it was too easy for him to hide his reactions in text, too difficult to really observe his most immediate and visceral reactions without seeing his facial expressions and body language and hearing his tone of voice. When they started the call, she kept her camera off at first, but was pleased to see him gazing into the camera with rapt attention. She almost laughed at his eagerness; he looked like a schoolboy who had been promised a treat if he paid extra-careful attention in class. He had the body of a man, but he still carried a certain boyish youthfulness that appealed to her and made him seem even more vulnerable.

"Did you have a good day?" she asked casually, sounding as though it had been like every other day in her life.

"Sort of," he said. "It was a little stressful, but not bad."

"Why was it stressful? Did you have a bad day at work?"

"No, work was fine, it was pretty much as usual. But I guess I just had problems concentrating."

"Why's that? Maybe you need to drink more coffee."

"No, it wasn't anything like that," he said, then began to breathe a bit deeper out of embarrassment. "I just had, well, you know, problems..."

"Oh dear, problems with what, dear Sam?" she asked sweetly, as though she had no idea what could be wrong.

"Well, you know, I kept thinking of you a lot," he said shyly. As he spoke, he looked down-her camera was still off, so there wasn't anything to see on the screen anyway-and his embarrassed, downcast gaze was wonderful. She wanted him to get used to looking down. It was a posture of humility and submission. As long as she could maintain him in that position, not only physically but especially mentally, then his mental state would be where she wanted it to be.

"I like that," she said happily. "I like it when you think about me a lot. Why would that ever be a problem?"

"Well, that in itself wasn't a problem, but I mean, I really wanted to have some kind of sexual release, but I promised you that I wouldn't, so..."

"Did you keep your promise?"

"Yes, I did."

"I'm so glad you did!" she exclaimed, and it was true. It meant that any rational thoughts he might have been able to have during the day would have been effaced by his sexual urges. Had he been able to think clearly, he might have started having second thoughts. Guys like him who think too much always do! It was much better to keep him in a state of constant sexual tension so that he would be unable to torture himself with questions that could lead him down the wrong track. As long as he had no orgasm, he would only be able to have sexual thoughts about her, and as this state persisted over a long period of time, he would lose the ability to have other kinds of thoughts that could interfere with what she wanted for him. "As a reward for your obedience, I will allow you to see me." She turned on her camera, and the transformation in his expression was exactly what she had hoped to see: he had the face of a man seeing something he had wanted to see for a long time.

For a while, perhaps a fairly long while, they just looked at each other. He was staring at her so intently that he seemed mesmerized, so to carry on with this theme, she moved her face directly in front of the camera, opened her eyes wide into a stare that was perhaps more silly than intense, and said "Look into my eyes!" She was trying not to laugh; something about it all seemed very funny, but at the same time she took it seriously. Perhaps she wanted to be able to get him to laugh so that he would feel more at ease with her and not feel like he was the subject of an interrogation. In any case, he said nothing, but remained watching the screen, fixated. Because the webcam on a computer is at the edge of the screen, a person looking directly at their conversation partner will not be looking at the camera, so it was difficult for her to tell if he was actually obeying her wish to look into her eyes, but his eyes did seem to be fixated on one spot, so that was a good sign, at least.

They were not sure how long they had been frozen in this state, in this act of staring at each other with the sense that they weren't really staring at each other because they were looking at their screens and not at their cameras. Presently, however, they both became aware that it had become awkward rather than romantic. One difference between them was that he tended to get mentally stuck, in the sense that when a conversation stopped, he would be at a loss for something to say to keep the conversation going, and he also tended to become so focused on small details that he stopped whatever he was doing or saying. She was the opposite, always full of new things to do or talk about, which meant that it fell to her, by default, to decide what they would do or talk about much of the time, but this suited her since she was naturally bossy, the kind of person who didn't mind telling people what to do as long as they actually obeyed.

"I had the day off today," she announced, reasoning that talking about each other's day was a normal couples thing that could always be used to start a conversation when they saw each other.

"Oh, that's nice. What did you do with your day off?" he asked.

"I did some tidying up. I did the laundry and vacuuming, washed the windows, that kind of thing. I went to a new restaurant for lunch."

"That doesn't really sound like a day off," he said with a faint smile. "I mean, you spent your day off doing housework."

"What can I say, I like to live in a tidy house. And I get a certain sense of accomplishment from it. Which isn't to say that I would mind if someone else did it for me." And she said this last sentence with a faint sense of pointedness that made him feel like she was suggesting something.

"Don't look at me, I don't even tidy up my own house," he said.

"That's okay, you can clean mine instead," she said with a smile.

Here he was stumped for an answer. There was something bizarre and yet simultaneously exciting about her suggestion. She found that she liked the act of stumping him, of saying things that left him at a loss for an answer, because it made it easy for her to control the flow of conversation. She could get him talking or make him stop when she wanted.

Finally, unable to think of anything better to say, he asked: "Why would I clean yours when I don't even clean mine?"

"Because I'd like you to, and I think you want to, anyway."

"What makes you think I want to?"

"Just the look on your face when I suggested it."

"Why, what kind of look did I have on my face?"

"A look that showed a clear desire."

"Maybe it was a desire for you, not for doing housekeeping chores."

"But if you want me, you would do nice things for me, right?"

"Sure, but..." he trailed off.

"But what? Are you saying you don't want to?"

"I guess I do want to, but..."

"But what?" she asked again.

"I don't really know why I want it," he admitted helplessly.

"I think you like the idea of serving me," she said with a smile. When he didn't respond to that right away, she added: "You would do all my housework while naked, of course. I would like that."

"So you'd just sit there and watch me while I worked?"

"I wouldn't just watch you. I would film you."

She was beginning to notice how his eyes rolled back into his head when she suggested something he found sexually interesting. His words suggested someone hesitant, but all his body language and tone of voice clearly betrayed his arousal at her suggestions. Predictably, he played it cool with his words, asking simply "Why would you film me doing housework?" His words, calm and cautious, stook in stark contrast to all his non-verbal language.

"Because you'd love me to," she said with a triumphant grin.

He couldn't deny that, so he said nothing. After a moment, she went on: "Actually, I changed my mind: you wouldn't be completely naked. You'd be wearing shackles around your ankles." That actually elicited a groan from deep within him, as if this thought alone had triggered an orgasm. "And a ball gag. You'd do all your chores while on your knees. And I would film you washing my floors and cleaning my toilet, and upload the video to YouTube under the title:APyreInside is my bitch!"

He almost fell out of his chair. She watched him with quiet satisfaction. He was so easy for her to manipulate that she almost wanted a bit more challenge, but in the long run, she understood that it was good, good that he was so weak, so suggestible to her influence.

When he'd calmed down enough to be able to talk again, she asked with amusement: "Do you like that idea?"

"I don't know," he answered, which actually sent her into peals of laughter.

"How can you tell me you don't know?" she asked, barely able to speak through her giggles. "You're breathing like a horny teenager looking through a porno magazine for the first time, you're squirming in your chair uncontrollably, and yet you say that youdon't know how you feel about it all? Are you emotionally retarded, or are you just bullshitting me?"

"Well, I mean, I just don't want to get carried away with it," he said, his voice and his face still communicating uncertainty. "It sounds nice, but I've never done anything like that before."

"Get carried away with it," she said in a voice that was suddenly sharp and commanding. "I told you, I will be the voice of reason for us. Your job isn't to be cautious or second-guess anything I say. Your job is to go with your first reaction to anything I say or do."

He nodded, and she could see that he was shaking.

"If you like something, I want you to tell me," she continued. "Anytime something I say or do pleases you, I want you to tell me that you like it, so that I can understand what you enjoy. I want to make you happy, but I need your help to do that, and you're not helping by giving me bullshit non-answers like 'I don't know' or 'I've never done it before.' Just tell me how you feel. If I get the sense that you're holding back on showing me your emotions, that will upset me."

"I'm sorry," he babbled, "I really like it, I mean I really like all the things that you said you would do."

"Why do you like them?"

"I don't know... I mean I really don't, honestly, I can't say why I like it, I just like it a lot."

"Do you think the fact that you haven't had an orgasm all day might have something to do with it?"

"Probably. I mean, I would probably react differently if I had had one."

"That's what I thought, too. I think I'd like to see how you react after another day of having no orgasm." At these words, a cold knot of worry formed in his stomach. "I'll wait until tomorrow to grant you an orgasm."

"But... you said that I would have one tonight."

"I changed my mind," she said with a smile. "You like it when I change my mind, don't you?"

"Um... no, I don't think I do."

"Why not? It confuses you, doesn't it?"

"Well yes, it does."

"And you love it when I confuse you."

"I do? Why do I love it?"

"Because it gives me more control over you and your thoughts, which is what you want."

"Well, yes..." His voice trailed off, uncertain.

"Then tell me that you like it," she said simply.

"I like it when you confuse me."

"You like it when I mess up your thoughts, leaving you unable to think, so that I have to do all the thinking for you."

"Yes."

"Say it in a full sentence. Say 'Yes, I like it when' and go from there."

"Yes, I like it when..." He paused, unsure of how to form his sentence. "I like it when you confuse me and mess up my thoughts."

"Does it turn you on?"

"Yes, it turns me on when you confuse me."

"Good. There will be a lot more where that came from. So hold off on your orgasm for tonight, and I'll give you a reason tomorrow night that will be worth waiting for."

"Okay."

"I don't like it when you give short, non-committal answers like 'Okay.' Say 'Yes, I will obey,' and say it like you mean it."

"Yes, I will obey your wish for me to not have an orgasm tonight." She was glad to hear in his voice that he wasn't just reciting her words; he said it with enough feeling that she understood he meant it and was getting into it.

To an outside observer, this might have seemed like a lot of pointless and boring back-and-forth, a relatively tame conversation between a horny guy and a woman whom he happened to be attracted to. Within the connection between the two Sams, however, the process of repetition in this form was not only meaningful, but necessary for the relationship to go further. Fans of "mind-control" erotica often imagine that one person can hypnotize another in a matter of minutes and turn their subject into a controlled slave within the course of a single day. In reality, the process of changing anyone's cerebral structure is the matter of a long series of repetitions. Snake charmers enchant their snakes mostly through their repetitive movements. A snake is deaf and thus unable to hear music; the use of music during snake-charming acts is mostly for audience entertainment. What actually happens is that the snake observes the repetitive swaying motion of the charmer and begins to imitate it, since swaying motions are a natural form of movement for snakes anyway. In much the same way, mesmerizing a person requires giving them something to focus on. Because the human mind thinks on many different levels, and because many of these are not consciously recognized, the process of taking over a person's mind requires filling in their mind with a lot of background noise to drown out questioning or resisting impulses which might weaken the impression left on them. By not allowing him to orgasm, she was ensuring that many, if not most, of his background thoughts would be entirely sexual in nature, forming subconscious connections that would be impossible for him to destroy. Whenever he thought of her, he would immediately associate her with sex and experience sexual arousal. At the same time, the constant back-and-forth of their conversation kept his conscious mind occupied on what she was saying so that he had no opportunity to resist her by forming second thoughts. The process of keeping both his conscious and subconscious thus occupied was part of the long process of turning him into a dumb sex object who existed only for her pleasure and had no independent will. She needed to keep him in this state for extended periods of time on a regular basis so that he could form an addiction to it.

Part of cultivating an addiction in someone else also entails deprivation. After you've gotten someone hooked on something for a while, you also need to take it away now and then so that they come to realize how dependent they are on it and how far they're willing to go to feed their addiction. Particularly if the goal is to make the person powerless, unable to control either their dependence on the addiction or their supply of what satisfies their cravings, then it is important to show that person just how dependent they are and let them experience what it feels like to be unable to satisfy themselves.

"If you keep your promise," she began, "it will please me very much. I will go now, but I'll make sure to check on you tomorrow night to see how you're doing."

"Why are you leaving now?" he asked, and the look on his face at the news that she was leaving was so tragic that she almost felt sorry enough for him to stay a little longer.

"We've already talked a lot tonight," she said. "If you get too much of me, you might start to take me for granted."

"I don't think I would."

"That's what you men all think. You always think that you could never get tired of a woman, that you would want to spend every moment together with her for the rest of your life. And then suddenly you find that you're bored and want to be alone for a while. You don't understand your own feelings, but I do. You need a bit of time away from me to understand how much you need me."

He hesitated, but he understood well enough by now that his place was to agree with her, not to argue with her. "I understand. I'm not happy about it, and I'll miss you, but if that is what you say, I will accept it."

"I'm glad," she said. "If you want to be happy, just keep that attitude. As long as you follow what I say, I'll make sure that you are happy."

"Thank you, Sam. I trust you."

"Good. One other thing: give me your mobile phone number."

He recited it to her, and watched as she typed it into her phone. "I might call or text you sometime," she said, "so be ready." In reality, she didn't plan to either call him or text him very often, but the thought that a message from her could arrive at any time would keep him thinking about her even when they were offline. He would be anticipating at every moment the possibility that she might suddenly show up on his phone, and this anticipation would keep him thinking about her.

As it happened, however, he did get a text message from her while at work the next day. His phone buzzed, and he pulled it out to check the message. It said simply, "What are you doing?"

"I'm at work," he texted back. "I'm working."

"Okay, good. I want you to masturbate now."

"Um, I'm in a workplace where other people can see me. Should I go and do it in the bathroom?"

"Yes. Think about me slapping you."

That was all the motivation he needed.