She had been viewing Cyril's page. She liked it. She found it engaging. When she was done, she went to click away from it. But she found that she couldn't leave. She couldn't bring herself to click away. She had to stay on it. She had to keep viewing it. Something kept her there. Something kept her locked in place.

"I don't understand," she said to herself.

You don't need to understand.

"I...don't need to understand?"

You don't need to understand.

"I don't need to understand."

You need only obey.

"I need only...obey?"

You need only obey.

"I need only obey."

She didn't hear the commands so much as instinctively know them. Questioning them took effort--hard, tedious, tiresome effort. But following the commands took no effort and felt good--so soothingly, wondrously, desirously good.

You will always obey.

"I will always obey."

When obeying, you will be always be barefoot.

"When obeying, I will always be barefoot."

She slid out of her shoes and peeled off her socks. Then she placed her bare feet up on her desk.

You will show my page to all the other smart, young, attractive women you know.

"I will show your page to all the other smart, young, attractive women I know."

She began thinking of all the smart, young, attractive women she knew. Then she imagined each of them viewing Cyril's page. She pictured them entranced, barefoot, and obedient, just as she was now.

Begin your task, slave.

"I will begin my task, Master."

She blinked. Then she shook her head to dispel a momentary daze she hadn't realized she was in. What had she been doing? Oh, yes, she'd been viewing Cyril's page. She liked it. She found it engaging. She thought of some women who would like it, too. Wouldn't it be great to share it with Shannon, Denise, Penelope, Zee, and several others? Yes, she should do that. She would do it right now.

Still barefoot and obliviously brainwashed, she rose and left the room to carry out her task....