TRANCE, Inc. 05: The Coed

I rubbed my eyes wearily and muted the audio file playing through my earphones. A yawn forced its way through my body and I stretched, my muscles sore and tense. I was seated on the lone barstool at my kitchen island, my glowing laptop and a single lamp the only light sources in my darkened apartment.

God, I thought as I glanced at the digital clock on the microwave. Is it really that early? The green numbers told me it was 6:30 in the morning, and I groaned. I wanted to lay down with my head on my arms and sleep, but I knew I wouldn't be able to. Instead, I reached out for the cup of black coffee beside the black-shelled computer and tipped a large swallow down my throat. I had hit the dregs at the bottom of the brew, but I could barely taste it anymore. I hadn't kept count, but to keep myself awake I'd definitely drunk a number of cups that enumerated into the double digits.

The generic white mug clattered softly on the counter as I placed it down, and I smirked tiredly as I read the swirling, artsy cursive script that had been drawn onto the ceramic. World's Best Master, it read in Sharpie, and it had a bunch of little red hearts dancing around the words. Amber had made it for me as a joke when I'd asked her to be my girlfriend. I kept it out of sight of company.

Twisting in my chair, I grunted softly as I felt my lower back pop-pop-pop and release some of the tension that had built up after having spent hours hunched over my computer trying to decipher the secrets of the little green drive currently inserted into the USB port. I scowled at the thing and bit my lip, then tried to come up with another angle of attack.

Fact: Mike Lassiter, TRANCE, Inc.'s Director of Talent Management, was going to come into the office at 9am on this Monday morning.

Fact: He was going to quickly realize that the USB drive where he kept the audio and video files for his hypnotic brainwashing protocol was missing.

Fact: He would also realize that the only reason someone would take the drive was because they had figured out his secret — he was using mind control to brainwash and program TRANCE's bevy of pornstars to make them into perfectly willing, submissive and enthusiastic bimbo playthings.

And if I were in Lassiter's place, I knew what I would do. I would set up some sort of meeting with each of the actresses, or all of them at once. Then, I would trigger them into a hypnotic trance, reprogram them and question them to ascertain which one of them had been found out... and by whom. Finally, that very special someone who had dared to fuck with my plans would be fired and prevented from ever having contact with the company or its actresses again.

Or... I swallowed. TRANCE was the biggest adult entertainment company in the country, maybe on the planet. They were generating hundreds of millions in revenue. They might not even squirm at the idea of...eliminating... someone who could potentially uncover their biggest secret.

Who ever would have thought, I wondered, that I would fear being executed by hitmen working for a porn company? The idea almost made me laugh... in a dark, twisted and slightly frightened sort of way.

I shook my head and tried to focus through the buzz of caffeine and the fuzz of sleep deprivation that shared space in my brain. And that's why you need to figure this thing out...

I had separated Lassiter's files into two parts — video and audio — which helped to diminish their effects. Still, I had to make sure not to lose concentration as I listened and watched, because the ensnaring effects of Lassiter's creations were strangely powerful. Something about the strobing shapes and colors drew me into the screen, and some intangible quality to the musical beats in my ears made me want to relax, space out and absorb commands beyond the edge of my conscious hearing. I'm glad I hadn't been stupid enough to watch both at the same time. I might have ended up as suggestible as...

My girls chose that moment to walk into the kitchen. Each of them was drop-dead gorgeous with a happy, refreshed expression, hair worn loose and tousled from sleep and nothing else on except a thong and one of my old teeshirts. They queued up to say good morning — brunette, redhead, redhead, blonde.

Victoria, my dark-haired lover and current boss, came over with sleepy smile curling across her full lips. "Morning, baby," she murmured as she gave me a soft kiss on the cheek, scooping up my empty mug and taking it over to the sink.

I groaned something in response that might have translated to "Good morning" but could just as easily have been "Help..."

Next in line, Daisy smiled cutely at me while her identical twin sister bit her lip with a naughty gleam in her eye. Don't ask me how I knew which was which. Maybe it was something in the way they carried themselves, but my twin pornstar babes looked as alike as two peas in a pod. Both were slim and supple, with the gorgeous allure of 18-year-olds who were still young enough to give me innocent, angelic looks right before I fucked them senseless.

The redheads both leaned in at the same time and kissed me chastely on opposite cheeks. "Good morning, handsome," they chimed in unison, then giggled and shot each other amused glances.

The procession of beautiful women was waking me up better than the coffee, and I was able to give them both a weary smile as I glanced left and right. "Hey, girls," I responded as they went to the cabinet and fished for coffee mugs of their own.

Amber brought up the rear. She dimpled affectionately over my shoulder at the other women bustling around the kitchen, then hit me with a gorgeous, glowing smile. I turned on the barstool as she stepped up close and wrapped her arms around my neck, and I lowered my head so my forehead rested at the base of her throat. My hands went to her hips and found smooth, soft skin as I took a long, deep breath.

"How's my man doing this morning?" Amber asked fondly, her fingers running through my hair as her sweet scent tingled through my body.

I didn't answer for a moment as I felt my muscles relax and release tension I hadn't even known they were holding. Then, I looked up into her face. My hands slid up under the soft grey teeshirt she wore as I stood, bunching the fabric up under her full, round breasts. I saw her pupils go wide and her lips part as I leaned in and kissed her on the mouth, a soft moan escaping her.

She melted against me, her tits pressing into my chest so that I could feel her nipples hardening through the thin fabric. My hands brushed down her sides and slid around her waist, dropping lower as I sank my fingers into her muscular ass. Her malleable flesh gave under my fingers and I felt her groan low in her throat, her hips grinding up against mine.

We broke apart, both panting softly. "I'm worried," I admitted, breaking contact with her gorgeous blue eyes as I glanced over at the dark computer screen. "I can't figure out how to reverse-engineer this hypnotic conditioning program and I only have a couple hours before Lassiter comes in for work and realizes it's missing."

Conversing with Amber last night, I'd come to a fantastic realization. Some part of Lassiter's programming had made certain that even if the girls were made aware that they'd been hypnotized, they didn't mind in the slightest. I had been so stressed that revealing their conditioning would bring my house of cards tumbling down, but all of the women had assured me that it didn't change their feelings for me in the slightest.

I guess I should be grateful for the little things.

Amber pursed her lips and looked thoughtful as she drew back slightly, gazing off into the distance as though searching for an idea. Then, she shook her head, long blonde locks waving from side to side.

"Do you need to figure it out?" Victoria's voice was pensive, and I turned to look at the curvy brunette where she stood at the counter, stirring sugar into her cup of coffee. Her dark brown eyes met mine and her gaze was equally musing.

"What do you mean?" I asked tiredly. "I need to figure out how the program works so I can use it on Lassiter and make sure he doesn't come after us..."

Victoria raised an eyebrow, her expression disturbingly similar to the condescending look she used to give me at work when she had only been my bitchy, demanding boss and not my hypnotized lover. "So what you really need to do," she said, "is make sure that that man sees the recording. Then you can program him however you want to, right? There's no requirement for you to know how it works..."

I thought about that for a second. Then, I thought about it for another second when I realized that I hadn't immediately found a flaw in her logic. I'd based my entire plan on the assumption that I would need to rework and create a specialized version of the hypnotic video for Lassiter in order to make sure he wouldn't fuck with me or my girls. I'd just assumed that since Lassiter's original video was designed to reprogram women into mindless sex puppets it wouldn't work for my purposes.

But I don't need all of the functionality to work, I realized.s Just as long as it makes him obedient... "That's all I need!" I gasped, surprised that I'd missed such a simple solution. I sprang up from the barstool with renewed energy and crossed the small kitchen to Victoria in two long strides.

The statuesque brunette grinned confidently at me as I wrapped my arms around her waist and swung her up in to the air. I spun in a circle, Victoria giggling like a teenager as I set her bare feet back on the tiled floor. Her eyes gleamed delightedly as I bent forward and kissed her, my hands reaching up to cup her cheeks and pulling her into me. The woman's tongue slipped between her lips and explored my mouth, and I returned the favor. Even as I did, I let my fingers reach up and run through in her hair, teasing and tangling in the dark, wavy locks.

I finally pulled back, out of breath.

Victoria's chest was rising and falling as she panted, her eyes bright with a growing fire. Her cheeks were flushed and she bit her lip as she looked up at me through her lashes.

I let out a theatrical sigh. "And this is why you're the boss!" I told her with a grin.

"Mmm..." Victoria murmured wordlessly, stepping in close and reaching up, grasping the front of my shirt in her fingers. "Not the boss anywhere that matters... Master..."

I groaned softly, the title never failing to shoot a pint of blood directly through my male ego into my cock. I felt myself growing harder as Victoria pulled herself up against me and ground her pelvis against my awakening erection.

"Do you feel less worried, baby?" she teased, standing on tiptoe to kiss up my jawline. She gently nipped my earlobe as she whispered naughtily, "Did your hot, slutty little fucktoy earn a reward?"

"God..." I gasped almost inaudibly as her fingers slithered down under the waistband of my boxers and circled around my cock. I loved it when my women talked dirty to me. Several confident strokes and I was at full hardness, my length throbbing against her palm.

"How can I..." I stumbled over my words as she gave me several more delightful strokes. "... reward such good behavior?"

Victoria took a short step back and unconsciously licked her lips. Her eyes slid down my body as she slid to her knees and freed my cock so that the red, urgently needy head was at eye level. "I think I know just the thing to reward your naughty girl..." she told me, dark brown eyes blazing up into mine for just a moment.

I groaned again as she leaned forward and her mouth enveloped me in its hot, wet sheath. As my gorgeous boss began to bob her head up and down, lathering my achingly hard shaft with her saliva, I couldn't help but close my eyes blissfully. You lucky devil, I thought. And some man thought he could take all this away from me...

* * *

It was 8:56 am when the girls and I pulled into the TRANCE, Inc. parking lot in a miniature cavalcade. The twins arrived in Carmen's car, since Daisy's still in the parking lot from the previous day. Victoria drove herself, her stomach carrying a cup of coffee and a full load of my cum, and Amber drove with me. We were quiet on the ride over — I was nervous about what I needed to do and Amber knew me well enough by now that she didn't force us to make small talk to mask the unspoken tension.

"I have a shoot today," Amber reminded me as she leaned over and gave me a peck on the lips before getting out of the car. "But let me know if you need anything and I will be over in an instant." She fixed me with a mock-serious expression and cocked one hip as she raised an eyebrow. "Understand?"

I couldn't help but give her a small grin in response. My eyes devoured her in her outfit, a tight yellow crop top that showed off her toned stomach and a pair of cutoff jean shorts that barely covered her deliciously round ass. You're mine, I thought as I mentally ravished her. Mind and body...

My pornstar girlfriend giggled as she read my mind and gave me a quick twirl, her hair spinning around her shoulders. "You like?" she asked me softly, fixing me with an ardent gaze as I, too, exited the car. The vehicle chirped electronically as I tapped the "Lock" button on the key fob.

"Very much," I managed through my suddenly dry throat.

Amber glanced around the parking garage. We were a bit late — after Victoria's "reward" the rest of the girls had wanted some attention as well — so while there were plenty of cars all of their owners were already inside the office building.

"No man satisfies me like you do," she murmured, sauntering brazenly up to me and placing a hand on my chest.

I felt my heart rate triple. Holy shit this woman is hot... Despite the fact that I'd already cum more than once this morning, I felt my cock twitch in my pants.

"No matter how many shoots I have in a day," my girlfriend continued, "your cock is the only one that satisfies me..." She let the hand on my chest brush down the front of my shirt and cup the tent in my crotch. She purred.

I swallowed.

Amber's angelic blue eyes glinted mischievously as she leaned in and kissed me, squeezing lightly as she did.

My cock twitched beneath her palm and I groaned against her soft lips.

She pulled back, laughter in her too-innocent smile. "I'll be thinking of you," she murmured as her hand dropped down to her side. "So fix our little problem and tonight me and the girls will make sure you have a good time to look forward to..."

I admired her tight ass in those short jeans as she strolled off, long legs exhibited to perfection in a pair of blocky heels, and wondered whether it bugged me that my girlfriend was going off in that sexy as hell outfit to fuck other men.

It shouldn't bother me, I tried to tell myself. That's so hypocritical... I shook my head and pinched the bridge of my nose. "Come on, man," I scowled at myself. "Focus. Bigger problems to deal with."

But that sadistic part of my mind, the part that got off on my mental disquiet, wouldn't shut up. Fucking other men... it whispered. On her knees, begging for their cum... In her, on her, it doesn't much matter... I gritted my teeth and started walking. Other men triggering her, it continued. Just like you did. Using that trigger phrase to turn her into a submissive bimbo plaything. Just like you did...

My fists were clenched. "Shut. Up!" I growled through gritted teeth.

It's not like you mean anything to her, it mocked. It's not like she even means anything to you. You've just been using her for sex, after all... It's tone was sly. Your girlfriend? Ha! What a joke. Have you even been on a proper date?

I swiped my keycard angrily to get in and practically stomped to the elevator.

She doesn't like you, the voice crowed triumphantly, sensing that it was getting to me. She doesn't care about you. None of the girls do. It's all a lie, a delusion that you created because you can't handle the fact that no one cares about you and...

As you can tell, I had mostly stopped ruminating about my unique relationship issues by the time I'd gotten to my office and sat down at my desk, dropping my backpack on the floor next to me. Yeah, right...

But Amber was right, I had a little problem to deal with. So I sat in the darkened office, not turning on the light, for several long moments. There was no window in my office, apparently quality control geek didn't merit one, so it was only dimly lit by the light from the hallway coming in under the door. I forced myself to take deep breaths. I forced myself to think about the most immediate problem — Lassiter had doubtless already realized that his electronic files were missing, and he was probably looking for someone to decapitate. I forced myself not to think about Amber, Daisy and Carmen, all getting ready for a day spent filming and fucking... And when I realized that I had cleared my mind as much as I could, I slid my laptop out of the backpack and flipped it open.

The glow of the screen lit up my tiny closet of an office, and I drummed my fingers aimlessly across the keyboard for several moments. Alright, Chance, I ordered. Let's get this done.

Victoria had made a good point that morning. I didn't need to understand how Lassiter's hypnotic mind control brainwashing video worked. I just needed to be able to use it, because the same programming that I'd used to turn three pornstars and my boss into sexy, submissive playthings could be used for a more general purpose... Obedience. And once I had Director Lassiter's obedience I could make all of our problems disappear.

So all you need to do, I thought, is find a way to get a crafty, cautious man who has turned scores of women into brainwashed bimbos to drink his own Kool-Aid... I wrinkled my nose. Right. Piece of cake.

I didn't have much of a plan, but I tried to think strategically. "Okay, Chance, stop stalling." I muttered. "Step one. Reconnaissance." I stood, slipping my hand into my pocket where the small, green USB drive was lounging innocently. Figure out what's going on in the world of Mike Lassiter.

I took the elevator up to the twelfth floor and stepped out confidently, acting as if I had everything under control. Despite my calm, steady walk, my eyes darted from side to side as I scanned the HR department for the Director of Talent Management.

I tried not to grimace when I saw him. Yikes.

Director Michael Lassiter had one of those offices with big glass windows on both sides — the indoor and outdoor sides, that is — with blinds that he could draw closed when he needed privacy. Those blinds were currently not being utilized, even though the man inside the office looked like he could have used a moment of privacy.

Mike Lassiter was red in the face, pacing back and forth and yelling into a bluetooth phone that was wrapped around one ear. He was a tall man with brown hair and a clean-shaven face, looking dapper and masterful in a tailored pinstripe suit. I pulled out my phone and lifted it to my own ear, nodding as though listening to instructions as I edged closer. As I did, I noticed that the director's red power tie was askew, the top button of his white dress shirt was undone and his hair was disheveled as if he constantly ran his fingers through it. These left him with a slightly disheveled appearance, and I had to stop a slightly smug grin from twitching across my face. Apparently the man's office was soundproofed, because I couldn't hear even the barest whisper of the shouted conversation, but it seemed like he was tearing some unlucky individual a new one.