"Well, this is different."

"That it is. Delightfully so."

"You like seeing me this way."

"More than you could ever know."

"I doubt that. I recognize your voice, which means our situations have been reversed in the past. So, believe me, I do know. But that voice. Hm. Give me a minute, and I'll put a name to it. Of course, I wouldn't have to think about it if I could see you."

"The blindfold stays on."

"As do the restraints?"

"Correct."

"And I take it that my clothes remain off?"

"Correct again."

"Not unexpected. But I thought I'd ask. This chair is freezing. Ah, yes...it's Vine. Hello, my once and hopefully future slave."

"Hello, Cyril, my current prisoner and never again master."

"How are you, Naz? I presume you're extremely well, given that you're free and I'm your captive."

"Let's stick with Vine."

"Why? It's not like I don't know who you are. It's not like I don't know every one of your intimate secrets. It's not like I don't know things that even you've forgotten...I being the one who made you forget them."

"Vine."

"Suit yourself. Anyway, Vine, what is it that you have in store for me? Bringing me to justice? Or exacting revenge?"

"Like you don't know."

"Well, you are a superheroine, an upholder of morals and laws and what-not. If you're sticking to your principles, then that would indicate one course of action. But if you're not, then that opens up the possibilities. In either case, I'm sure interrogation is your first order of business."

"How smart you are."

"But how do you assure my compliance? Intimidation? Coercion? Torture?"

"Forgetting the one sure way, are we?"

"Forgetting, no. Not wanting to go there, yes."

"You'd prefer torture?"

"I'd prefer none of the options."

"Your preferences are irrelevant. Just like you're going to be when I'm done with you. It's just you and me here. No morals, no laws, no principles. You're helpless. I'm in control. I'm going to do whatever I want to you. Sound familiar?"

"My own words spoken back to me."

"Exactly. And here's another of your words spoken back to you: brainwashing. I'm going to brainwash you. I'm going to make you submit. Make you talk. Reveal all of your secrets. And forget all of mine. Then, before I send your pathetic ass off to prison, I'll bring some girl friends round. Whose voices you might also recognize. And I'll leave you alone with them, one at a time. I don't know exactly what they'll do to you, but I have ideas. Let's just say it'll be a long, long, long day for you."

"That doesn't sound good. At all. Still, I am curious. How will you brainwash me?"

"You're about to find out."

"Ah, I hear you walking over to me. A shame it's the sharp tapping of your signature stiletto-heeled boots and not the whisper-soft padding of your lovely bare soles."

"You won't be hearing that sound, nor seeing my bare feet ever again."

"A sad thought indeed. Ow! My neck! What did you--oh, yes, of course. An injection. Something to soften me up for my impending brainwash, no doubt."

"That's right."

"I know your League doesn't deal in such drugs. So you probably just pumped me full of...Cyrqwel."

"Deliciously ironic, isn't it?"

"If I'm being honest, then yes, it is ironic to inject me with the drug that I designed."

"You have no choice but to be honest now."

"Hm. But as effective as Cyrqwel is, it's not meant for long-term mind control. Which you well know. So, you must have something else lined up. Hypnosis is my guess. But for that, you'll want to uncover my eyes so I can see the swinging pendulum or swirling spiral or pulsing lights that you'll use to induce a trance state."

"Give it up, Cyril. I'm not uncovering your eyes. Not until I brainwash you into submission and obedience, and erase all your desire and ability to hypnotize others."

"Harsh."

"Necessary. Justifiable. And my absolute pleasure to do."

"No argument. But still...harsh."

"Enough gab from you already. It's time to start filling your mind with suggestions and instructions. First things first: You will not speak again until I tell you to."

"I will not speak again until you tell me to."

"Good."

"Except that...no. I will speak whenever I feel like it."

"What the hell?"

"Dear, sweet Naz, Cyrqwel is my drug. When I developed it, I made damn sure I was immune to it."

"You son of a bitch. Fine. We'll jump right into the hardcore brainwashing."

"But as I asked before, how? Hypnosis seems unlikely at this point. Technology then? One of my machines? Do you suppose that when I created those wondrous devices I ensured that they wouldn't work on me, much the same as my drug?"

"..."

"I can all but hear you fuming. Poor Naz, are things not going as planned?"

"Shut the hell up, Cyril. Maybe you're right. Maybe your machines don't work on you. But there are other villains we've defeated, other mind control tech we've acquired."

"Yes, of course you have. But Strickland and Hypnotiq, though they put their own creative touches on the devices they use, acquired the original technology from me. So the question remains, will it work on its creator?"

"You know what, you smug asshole? You're still the one sitting there, tied up, naked, and helpless. I don't need to brainwash you. I can still get everything I want out of you."

"So torture it will be. Definitively revenge and not justice."

"You deserve nothing less."

"Hm."

"And would you look at that? Is the oh-so mighty, powerful, and defiant Cyril Wellington actually a submissive? Because as soon as he realized that he truly wasn't in control of the situation, that he had lost this fight, that he would be broken, a most remarkable physical response occurred. And it's still occurring. Wow. You are hard as a rock, Cyril. Fantasizing, are you, about all the superheroines who are going to beat the snot out of you, starting with me? That is completely unexpected. And amazing beyond compare. The closet submissive mind controller, who secretly dreams of being at the mercy of his victims. I love it."

"To be honest--again, because I want to be, not because of the ineffective substance you shot me up with--I'm fantasizing about our situations being reversed, as they often used to be. I'm picturing you hypnotized, kicking off your heels on my command, and standing before me barefoot. Then stripping out of your catsuit, sitting in this chair, letting me tie you up. And waiting for me to subject you to a thorough brainwashing, after which you will serve and obey me until I grow tired of you and move on to another helpless, barefoot superheroine. That is why I'm hard as a rock."

"You want me to think that. But I don't buy it, Mr. Submissive."

"Here's the thing, Naz--"

"Vine."

"Naz. You covered my eyes. Smart. But you left me naked. Not so smart."

"I've seen naked men before. Including aroused ones. You're nothing new and nothing special."

"As you say that, I know that you're looking at me. Seeing me aroused, engorged. And you're finding out how wrong you are. Because you can't look away."

"Oh, please."

"Your voice is wavering. And I know you're not looking away. Because I know myself, and I know you. You can't look away. You don't want to look away. You won't look away."

"No. N-no."

"Those familiar, pleasant feelings that I implanted in your mind before are encroaching on your will, Naz: relaxation, sleepiness, and a desire to give in."

"N-n-no..."

"You're going to give in, Naz."

"N-n-nuhh..."

"Give in, succumb, submit. But first, you're going to sleep. Sleep, Naz. Sleep."

"S-sleep."

"Sleep. Now."

"S-s-sleeeep...zzzzzz..."

"You are hypnotized, Naz. You will obey me."

"...Hypnotized...obey you..."

"Take off your shoes. You know that all my slaves must be barefoot."

"...All your slaves...barefoot..."

"Take off my blindfold. Ah, it is so good to see you again, my beautiful, barefoot slave. Now, untie me. Where are my clothes?"

"...Other room..."

"And how were you planning to brainwash me?"

"...Hypno helmet..."

"As with your use of my drug, A for irony, F for viability. Still, I'm glad that was your plan. Now I can use it on you. Where is it?"

"...Other room...with your clothes..."

"Lead the way, my lovely slave. The view from behind is as desirable as the one from the front. Ah, that whisper-soft padding. How I missed it, along with the gorgeous sight of you. And also hearing you call me master. Call me Master."

"...Yes...Master..."

"Hm. Perhaps this all too much of a good thing. I don't think I can wait until I've finished brainwashing you. Not that I need to. You're mindlessly obedient now. Slave, look at me as you just did when I hypnotized you. Do you see what I need?"

"...Yes...Master..."



"Do you know how to fulfill my needs?

"...Yes...Master..."



"Then begin."

"...Yes...Master...."