Ten years from now…

Vine smiled and sighed contentedly, allowing herself to briefly revel in the heavenly brush of the immaculately kept suburban lawn against the bare soles of her feet.

But then, she let the joyful feelings fade from her mind and concentrated on the task at hand. She scrunched her toes and felt the empathetic connection blossom between herself, the grass, garden plants, nearby shrubs, outlying trees, and even the weeds that had escaped the gardener's culling.

The flora had deep roots, and through them she learned what she needed to know of the house in whose long nocturnal shadow she now stood.

They confirmed her suspicions:

This was no innocuous suburban residence. This was the lair of a notorious supervillain. That villain was inside, in the basement. And so were three victims of the villain's machinations.

What the flora couldn't tell her was who specifically the villain and victims were. But Vine had confidence in her detective skills, which she had honed and refined over her years as a superheroine. Those skills had led her here and pointed to the likely identity of the villain she sought: Maestra.

Maestra was one of several mind-bending criminals that plagued the city's residents, officials, and heroines. She held a threat level of severe in the city's crime fighting database. It was time to take her down, once and for all.

Vine was going to do just that.

With a subtle flexing of her big toes, she activated slender bands that she wore on both ankles. Immediately, the anklets unfurled and expanded downwards in a series of cascading motions until, within a mere second, her feet were covered in sturdy but flexible boots.

Vine pouted for half a beat, as she felt the connection between the flora and herself severed. But she knew that, once she had apprehended her quarry, she could treat herself to a long, barefoot walk through the luxurious foliage around her own home.
With that happy thought in her mind, she sprung into action.

The cellar window shattered inward. Landing on the floor amid a rain of glittering glass shards, Vine's lithe figure rose from a crouch into a readied fighting stance. She was clad all in black, and she wore her thick, raven hair pulled back tight in a bun behind her head. Her beautiful, mocha face was normally graced with a friendly smile; but now, it burned with righteous anger.

Four other women occupied the large basement into which Vine had just crashed. Three lay on examination tables and wore garb akin to hospital gowns. Their bare feet faced the heroine, who could also see that heavy restraints on their arms and legs kept them immobilized.
These four were, Vine knew, Maestra's victims. They either had been, or were about to be, subjected to her latest mind control experiments.

The fourth women was, of course, Maestra herself. She was tall and pale, with hair that in part stood on end, in part curled in all different directions, and somehow seemed to wave in a breeze that didn't exist. She wore a stained lab coat and an improbable contraption on her head that enabled different sized, shaped, and colored lenses to cover her eyes.

"You could have knocked," Maestra said with a malevolent smirk, as she eyed the broken window and glass-strewn floor.

"You could have left these innocent women alone," Vine said.

"No, I really couldn't have."

"Then neither could I."

Maestra shrugged. Then she smiled maniacally. Two over-large lenses slid down and clicked into place before her eyes.

"Well, since you're here," she said, "you might as well join them as one of my mindless slaves."

Before Vine could react, Maestra's lenses flared with a starburst of multi-colored light. As the initial flare dimmed, it revealed swirling, pulsing patterns within each lens.

Vine gasped involuntarily. She had encountered--and fallen into--hypnotic traps before. So she knew that, by the time one recognized such a trap, one had already been ensnared by it. The fate of that person was induced trance, suggestibility, obedience, servitude...and often worse.

Indeed, staring into the enticing spirals before her, Vine felt a twinge in her mind.

But that was all she felt--a twinge. No need or desire to sleep followed it, nor did any suggestibility take hold in her mind. Her thoughts and will remained her own. As she had known they would.

"Pathetic," she said.

She waited just long enough for her statement and the fact that she was not succumbing to Maestra's hypnosis to register with the villain. When they did, she quickly flexed her big toes again, this time varying the previous movement ever so slightly. In response, the heels of her boots instantly extended down into stiletto points.

Then, she jumped up, spun in mid-air, and leveled a roundhouse kick at one of Maestra's lenses. The impact poked a jagged hole in it, but stopped just shy of touching the eye behind it.

Vine landed, then repeated the kick with her other leg, this time aiming at the other lens. That target broke as easily as the first one had, while again the eye behind it suffered no injury.

"Now, are you going to come quietly?" Vine asked. "Or, do I aim the next strike at you, rather than at those annoying lenses? Either way works for me."

The second way did not work for Maestra, who promptly surrendered.

A few hours later, Maestra found herself in solitary lockup, while her victims received treatment for their physical and mental trauma. Score another one for Vine and the forces of good in the city.

Though there were other cases to crack and more villains to catch, Vine fulfilled her promise to herself and took that long walk among the local plants around her home. She let the awareness of the bountiful flora wash over her, taking it in, enjoying it, but not focusing on any one thing. It brought her pure, unadulterated joy.

As she walked, she thought about the night's events, about the victims she had rescued, about Maestra, about the villiain's mind control, and about how she had resisted it.

No, she hadn't just resisted it. She had been completely immune to it. For a while now, she had found herself immune to all mind control.

Maestra couldn't put her under. Nor could Dr. Hypnotiq. Nor could even the much feared Severna Strickland, the undisputed Empress of Brainwashing/Mind Bending. None of those villains, nor any others, had been able to control Vine for the last three years.

And that was huge change. Because for the previous eight years of her superheroine career, Vine had been very susceptible to mind control. Like all of the other heroines of the city, she had fallen under the sway of the various mind-bending villains time and time again.

Every method imaginable had been used on her: hypnosis, telepathy, spells, chemicals, machines, and sometimes combinations of them. She had been brainwashed to act as a slave, to countermand law enforcement efforts, to capture other heroines, and even to forget for several months that she was a superheroine. And those were just the things that she remembered doing. She had little doubt that she had done other horrifying deeds that had been permanently erased from her memory by the insidious masters and mistresses who had controlled her.

Then, about three and a half years ago, she had investigated a new villain that was terrorizing the city. The villain had a plant-themed motif and abilities, so naturally Vine took up the case…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Vine opened her eyes. She blinked several times to restore her blurry vision and shake off a cloying grogginess.

As awareness and clarity returned to her, she realized several things: It was nighttime, she couldn't move, she was up against a tree, and her bare feet rested on a patch of moss.

Well, aside from not being able to move, things could've been worse.

She remembered entering the woods outside the city to track the newly emerged eco-villain, Belladonna Deeproot. Her communing-with-plants powers had let her easily track Belladonna. And then...everything was a blank.

Obviously, Belladonna had captured and incapacitated her. She looked down and saw several vines binding her limbs and torso, securing her to a large tree. With a smirk, she registered the irony of the situation.

And then, through her connection to the very plants that held her, she knew that her captor was approaching.

A moment later, Belladonna came into view. She was a strikingly gorgeous woman of indeterminable age. Long, ginger curls covered her head and fell loose over her shoulders. Freckles dotted her radiant skin. She wore not clothes, but rather living wrappings gathered from the forest she occupied. And though she walked unshod across the ground, no dirt or muck blemished her feet.

"Hello, my darling," she said to Vine in a melodic voice that carried no malice or ill intent.

"Uh, yeah, hello. But, no, I'm not your darling."

"I know they sent you to hunt me. But there's no need for that. We should be friends. We are the same."

"Yes. No. No. And definitely no," Vine said in response to each of Belladonna's statements.

"Oh, but we are the same. We both understand the plants. And they understand us. It is a wonderful symbiosis."

"Mm, yeah, it is wonderful. What would also be wonderful would be a few more things: You releasing me, giving me back my shoes, and then no longer breaking every law of the land to make your overly obvious points about living in harmony with nature."

"Your shoes? Oh, my darling--"

Vine all but growled at being called that again.

"--how can you maintain your connection to the plants while you wear those horrid things?"

"I have my ways. But honestly, you can keep the damn shoes if you release me and then turn yourself in, okay?"

Belladonna giggled.

"You have no idea how powerful you are, do you?" she asked.

"I have a very good idea of how not powerful I am," Vine said.

"Oh, but you don't. If you did, you would not need me to release you."

Vine raised a questioning eyebrow. Neither she herself, nor any of her crime fighting compatriots considered her powerful. Did this villain know something different? No, of course not. How could she? But then again…

"What are you talking about?" Vine asked, suddenly hopeful to learn something about herself.

"The thing is, if I show you your true power, you would use it to escape, and also try to capture me. You would succeed in the former, and you might even succeed in the latter. And we can't have that. No, no, my darling, not that."

Belladonna giggled again. Despite not liking the villain, Vine couldn't help but find the sweet little laugh charming. And the villain herself quite attractive.

Vine scrunched her toes into the moss and wiggled her fingers through her organic bonds. She opened her mind to the signals and messages from the flora. And then she nodded in understanding.

Pheromones. Belladonna was releasing low levels of pheromones. The natural chemicals were ever so slightly influencing Vine's behavior and attitude towards the villain, softening antipathy and encouraging attraction. It wasn't exactly mind control, but it was something to be aware of and fight against.

"Ah, so you've discovered one of my abilities," Belladonna said with an appreciative smile. "Well done."

Vine glared at her.

"Don't worry," Belladonna said. "These pheromones won't stop you from disliking me, nor keep you from wanting to apprehend me. Though if I have read the plants correctly, they are making me very desirable to you. And given how lovely you are, that does make me happy."

Vine blushed despite herself. But she focused all of her will into the steely stare she leveled at Belladonna, pushing back against the chemical influence being exerted over her.

"The thing is," Belladonna went on, "these pheromone are not the only ones I can release."

She giggled, then took in a long, slow breath. When she exhaled, Vine immediately sensed something else. Something different. Something…

Warm and soothing, yet also invigorating and very, very arousing. So arousing. So undeniably, irresistibly arousing.

Suddenly, Vine couldn't think about anything but her burning desire for Belladonna.

"My darling, I would have much preferred to work with you as a willing partner," Belladonna said. "But you never would have gone for that. You are too much the heroine. That is okay. This way will work, too. I will unlock your power--all of it. I will give you everything you need to be a true champion of the plants."

Belladonna walked up to the bound heroine and gently caressed her cheek. Vine's eyes rolled back, and she moaned in pleasure.

"And you, my darling, as you learn and grow, you will do such wonderful things with, for, and to me. Oh, yes, it will not be all work for either of us. You and I will have much fun together."

Belladonna raised one leg up over her head. Then she slowly lowered it so that her toes brushed Vine's neck. She continued tracing a delicate path down the heroine's body until she reached Vine's own toes.

The last thing Vine remembered before surrendering to a deep, blissful sleep was an explosively pleasurable release within herself, as Belladonna's toes teased her own.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"What. The. HELL?" Vine thought.

She thought it quite suddenly one day, many months after her encounter with Belladonna Deeproot in the woods. She thought it because she had completely forgotten that encounter and much that had followed it.

How could that be? How could large chunks of time have disappeared from her memory?

But she knew the answer even as she asked the question. Because it had happened to her before.

She had been brainwashed. Belladonna had brainwashed her. The pheromonic villain had induced her into some kind of hypnotic trance--awakening a strong arousal and immense pleasure in her as part of it. Once she had gone under, her will had been forfeit, and Belladonna had been able to mold her thoughts and memories to suit the villain's every need and desire.

Vine sighed as the knowledge and understanding of what had happened returned to her. She could add it to the list of the numerous times a villain had bent her to their will.

And yet...this time was different. Because, though she hadn't realized it until just now, she was different. Any previous time she had awoken from being in someone else's power, she had felt weak, vulnerable, and exposed. It took the help of others in the superheroine community--friends, mentors, and counselors--to regain her confidence, put the experience behind her, and take up the mantle of crime fighter again.

But this time, she had needed no help. This time, she felt strong and empowered. Literally empowered, as in more powerful.

Vague images and partial memories resurfaced, as she tried to put the pieces together. She could more or less remember being taught by Belladonna. Being trained by her.

Yes, some of that training was how to serve, obey, and pleasure the villain. Normal brainwashed slave kind of stuff that Vine had been put through before.

But some of it involved how to better use her powers. How her connection to flora could and did go deeper than just using their senses and communicating with and through them.

She thought how, just last week, she had needed to kick down the door to a criminal's hideout. Without even thinking about it, she had visualized her leg as being made of thick oak. The door had easily broken under her mighty kick, a feat that she would not have previously accomplished.

Soon after, she had needed to wriggle free of handcuffs. Visualizing her wrists to be as her namesakes were, she had no problem doing it. With almost inhuman flexibility, she had shed the cuffs in seconds.

The abilities seemed similar to what a heroine acquaintance could do with animal abilities. Anima could adopt the speed of a cheetah, strength of an elephant, or perception of an eagle. Vine now understood that she could use the natural properties of plants in the same way.

Now, this didn't mean she was super strong, wholly invulnerable, or at all undefeatable. But it did give her an edge that she'd never had before.

But why was she just realizing all of this now? And also, why had Belladonna given her--or at least unlocked within her--these powers? Did the villain still have some control over her and intended to use her for some nefarious purpose?

It was entirely possible, but she didn't think so. She knew that she had been completely in Belladonna's thrall. She knew that she had been the villain's slave. But she didn't feel any loyalty or obedience to her now, nor any attraction. All she wanted was to catch her and bring her to justice.

That didn't sound or feel like being in someone's power.

Then there was the other ability that she felt she now had. It was something she had come across quite accidentally. She had been tracking Dr. Hypnotiq, who had recently escaped from prison and was (yet again) mind controlling hapless women into doing perfectly horrid things.

She had found his lair and had confronted him in it. Never one for physical combat himself, he had sicked six of his minions on her. They were highly trained martial artist women, thoroughly brainwashed by him into doing everything he said.

The fight had been tough, but with her own martial arts background and her newfound powers, Vine had taken the minions out. But then, as she made ready to put Hypnotiq out of commission, she felt a sting in the back of her neck.

Damn! Once she felt it, she knew exactly what it was: a hypno-dart, fired from some hidden mechanism in the room. Its effects were almost instantaneous. She would first feel light-headed, then sleepy, then she would lose consciousness, and at that point she would become wholly suggestible and obedient to the villain.

Sure enough, she felt the light-headedness. But the sleepiness never came, and she never lost consciousness. Nor did she fall under his control.

Well, as odd as that was, she wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. She proceeded to pummel Hypnotiq into submission, then carted him off to the police.

A similar occurrence happened two weeks later when she took on Severna Strickland. This time she found herself overpowered before she could engage her foe in hand-to-hand combat. As expected, she wound up hooked into a brainwashing machine, with her feet bare and her head covered by a hypno-helmet. It was not an unfamiliar predicament for her.

Severna had other matters to attend to, so she left the machine to do its work. But for the first time ever for both the heroine and the villain, no brainwashing occurred.

It took Vine a long time to break free of her bonds and escape, but she finally managed to.

And that was when she first realized that she was immune to mind control. Why? How? What was Belladonna's motivation for giving her this gift?

Vine had no answers. But she had new powers, and she used them. Over the next three years, she took on every mind controlling villain in the city.

Before, she had fought them, but always with reservations. Those were usually fights that she lost, and losing meant mindlessly serving and obeying evil scumbags until other heroines, or sometimes just time itself, broke her free of their villainous control.

Now, it was different. Losing her mind to some fiend's brainwashing wasn't a concern. That didn't mean she won every fight. But with her mental immunity and other plant-based powers, she won a lot of them.

Only Severna Strickland eluded capture by her. Even if Severna could no longer brainwash her, the villain had more than enough minions, escape plans, and monetary resources to fearlessly go about business as usual. Anytime Vine actually got close to her, Severna had an out. Most of the time, that 'out' was another brainwashed superheroine--often a close friend of Vine's, like Superia or La Profesora--who interceded on her mistress's behalf.

Vine seethed at knowing that she couldn't get close to Severna, and she didn't stop trying to do it. But on the other hand, she knew that it drove Severna crazy not being able control her. That wasn't exactly a win, but it did make her feel better.

After capturing Maestra, no other mind-benders popped up in the city for several weeks. Vine took on normal cases, caught many criminals, and enjoyed the almost boring normality that superheroine life had become.

But then, for the first time in almost four years, word arrived through crime fighting channels of her return. At first, Vine couldn't believe it. Or, at least, she didn't want to. Day after day, though, the rumors strengthened. And there were even sightings. There was no denying it. She had come back:

Belladonna Deeproot.

Vine knew she needed to face the villain. And she believed that with all her skills, abilities, and mental fortitude, she could do it. Probably. Well, either way, she had to try. She hadn't shied away from mind-bending foes when she was an inexperienced heroine. She wouldn't start now. No matter how unsure she suddenly found herself….

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Of course. The building resided in the industrial section of the city. That meant foliage was as scarce as a skyscraper in the middle of the rainforest. In turn, that meant no on-the-fly intel and extra-sensory assistance from flora for a plant-powered heroine. Vine would run this one blind. Of course.

She entered the building through a maintenance door. Moving as stealthily as she could with her boots on--why have them off, if there was no ground-level plant life to touch with her feet?--she made her way through the lower levels of the building.

She found a directory. None of the names in it stuck out, until she came to one MET, Inc. The letters stood for Mind Expanding Technologies. That didn't exactly translate to mind bending or mind controlling, but she didn't have anything else to go on. She noted the floor and suite number and headed to the nearest staircase.

As fit as she was, climbing to the ninth floor penthouse level didn't tire her out. It just took time, and she wanted to get on with things already.

MET's offices were the only ones on this level. She approached quietly. Seeing no obvious security cameras, she tried the door. It was unlocked. With a sharp intake of breath, she opened it and entered the suite.

Lights were on in the lobby and in all the rooms she could see, all of which had open doors. But she saw and heard no people. The only prominent sound was a low mechanical hum, which emanated from a room off to her right. She headed that way.

When she entered through the open door, she stopped in tracks and gasped.

A large chair akin to an overstuffed recliner took up much of the room. The chair back was upright, but the footrest was elevated. It held an occupant, a woman. She was extremely attractive, from her freckled face down to her bare and unblemished feet, whose soles were directly in front of Vine. Two thick straps covered her forearms and two more covered her lower legs. They secured her to the chair. Resting on her head was a small metallic dome, not unlike a helmet but sporting several LED lights on its surface and underside. A shock of bright red hair stuck out on either side of the headgear.

"Belladonna!" Vine said in amazement.

Not unexpectedly, the bound villain gave no reaction to Vine calling out her name. Her eyelids were closed, and behind them, her eyes moved randomly back, forth, up, and down. Her lips moved, too, though their motion followed a specific, repeating pattern. It appeared to Vine that she was speaking, so the heroine stepped forward and leaned in close, trying to make out what she was saying.

"...I must obey Master...I must do whatever he says...I must obey Master...I must do whatever he says...I will not remember...But I will obey...I will not remember...But I will obey...I must obey Master…I must do whatever he says...."

Not that Vine had any doubts before, but hearing the repeated mantras confirmed it: Belladonna was being brainwashed.

The general setup, if not the exact equipment, was all too familiar to Vine. She had been forced to undergo similar processing beneath the same kind of helmet dozens of times.

"Huh," she said aloud. "I never would've guessed I'd see that."

"See what?"

The man's voice came from behind her. Vine whirled around to face him, ending up in a defensive combat stance.

He was nondescript in every way, except for intensely seductive eyes. She recognized those eyes. She recognized him. She had known him years ago. But she had forgotten him. Seeing him now, she wondered how that would have ever been possible.

"Cyril."

She thought the name. What came out of her mouth was something else:

"Master."

She heard herself say it. For an instant, she was shocked. But then, understanding sank in. She turned back to briefly look again at Belladonna under the brainwashing helmet. And she nodded. That was how she had forgotten him.

"Hello, slave," Cyril said.

Vine bristled at slave, but she said nothing. She wanted to say something, to do something--a swift kick to his jaw came to mind--but she found herself unable to.

What about her immunity to mind control? Had it stopped working? Did it rely on Belladonna being conscious and/or not under mind control herself? Vine had no answers. All she knew was that she stood before her former master, and she was unable to take action against him.

"You seem tongue tied," Cyril said. "That's a good sign. I don't have full control over you, but residual influence remains. It will be enough for now."

"No, it won't! You won't brainwash me again! I won't be your slave again! I'm taking you out, Cyril! Then I'm hauling you and Belladonna off to jail!"

Of course, Vine said none of that. The thoughts raged in her mind, but she couldn't voice them.

"She's quite a sight, isn't she?" Cyril said, indicating Belladonna. "Very beautiful and so sexy. Even without the effect of her pheromones, I'm sure you agree."

"Yes, I do," Vine said, despite not wanting to.

"Well, as easy on both our eyes as she is, we have work to get to. Follow me to the other room. You may ask me questions, if you wish. But keep them civil."

Cyril turned and walked out of the room, then entered an adjacent one. Vine followed him. She felt plush carpet underfoot and looked down to see that her feet were bare. Grimacing in disgust at how she had unknowingly shed her boots for Cyril, she chided herself for losing her cool. Yes, she was under his influence. But if she remained calm and acted intelligently, she could get out of this. She could prevail.

"Please tell me, Master, what is going on."

(Another grimace at calling him Master.)

"What's going on is the fruition of many years of planning. When Belladonna arrived in the city four years ago, I captured and brainwashed her. I knew that you would go after her, given your shared affinities for plants. I instructed her to capture you. I wanted her to use her unique pheromones to render you immune to all mind control. Well, all but my own. Being the wonderful master that I am, I also let her enslave you for a while. She enjoyed her reward. And I did, too."

"Why would you want her to make me immune to mind control, Master?"

"Because I needed you to do very important work for me. I needed you to take out of all the other mind controlling villains. Who wants competition? Not me. Anyway, with your newfound immunity, you did just that. It took you a long time, but it was worth it. Now there remains only two of us. Myself. And Severna Strickland."

"I haven't been able to defeat Severna, Master."

"No, not yet. But with no more distractions from the other mind controllers, and with some special tools that I will give you, and with the aid of my other lovely slave--"

He pointed in the direction of Belladonna in the other room.

"--you will defeat her. Then, you will bring her to me. I will brainwash her into my slave. And then, I will be able to do any and everything that I want. Won't that be fantastic?"

"Yes, Master, it will be fantastic."

"Poor, poor slave. You can't stand being partially under my control. You have to do what I say, but you can still think for yourself. How torturous that must be. You've suffered enough. It's time to release you. Release you from the burden of free will and independent thought."

With a devilish smile, Cyril beckoned to the same model chair that Belladonna sat in next door. Vine walked over to it, then turned around and sat down. Bindings immediately locked closed over her forearms and lower legs. Then, the footrest began to elevate. In a few seconds, Vine was in the same position that Belladonna was in her chair.

Cyril leaned down over her. He could see the hatred burning in her eyes. He nodded.

"Enjoy all the hate and anger for as long as you can, slave. Because in a few minutes...oh, why bother? We both know the drill, after all. Pleasant dreams. Oh, and for what it's worth, you're as beautiful and sexy as she is. I may even let you remember that."

Vine heard the hum of the helmet above her head. Soon, she felt its snugness as it moved into place over her scalp. She steeled herself against the onslaught of sensations that she knew were about to begin. But they didn't...yet.

Instead, a pale, feminine figure entered through the open door. Her eyes found Vine, and her face lit up with unabashed cheer.

"Darling! How lovely to see you again. You look quite sexy, all trussed up like that. I'd love to have some fun with you, but, sadly, I have other things I have to do. But don't you worry. Soon enough, we'll get to spend a lot of quality time together. Until then…"

Standing before Vine's chair, Belladonna raised up one foot and brushed her toes teasingly down, up, and back down the bound heroine's exposed soles. Vine squirmed uselessly against the deliciously maddening tickles.

With a playful wink, Belladonna stepped back. She turned to Cyril and bowed reverently. He nodded in acknowledgment. Then she turned and left the room.

Now the sensations Vine had expected began. She wiggled and twitched from head to toe, but she couldn't avoid them. They prickled. Tickled. Chilled. And jolted her.

Then she heard Cyril's voice. The intensity of the sensations made it hard for her to concentrate, so she couldn't tell if his words were live or broadcast through the helmet into her head.

"You will obey me, slave."

"No! No, No, No!" she screamed, but whether out loud or only in her mind, she also couldn't tell.

"You will obey me, slave."

"No!"

"You will obey me, slave."

After what seemed an eternity, the sensations lessened. They became gentle. Massaging. Luxurious.

"N-no! N-n-no!"

"You will obey me, slave."

Try as she might, she couldn't resist them. 

"N-n-n...n-n-n-no!"

"You will obey me, slave."

They relaxed her. 

"...O-o-oh..."

"You will obey me, slave."

Lulled her.

"O-obey...obey...I will obey...I will obey...."

Pulled her from wakefulness down into sleep. Blissful, desirous sleep.

For the first time in almost four years, Vine succumbed to a hypnotic induction. She closed her eyes and slipped into a deep, deep trance.

And then, she was brainwashed into mindlessly serving and obeying her master.