He greeted them. Had them introduce themselves. Of course, he had heard their bland self-descriptions before. At the beginning of their weekly sessions these last months he had first allowed them to speak freely, like a real therapy session. Then he had pulled them under, brought them into a trance state without them even realizing it. When they were under, the real work began, and the pretty lies they told about themselves and their marriage were quickly stripped away. The truth -- about themselves, their desires, even their fantasies -- spilled easily, secrets he had recorded on video without their knowledge. Secrets they would later never remember revealing, as Provert wiped their memories of the hours they spent in his office before sending them on their way.
This time would be different. This time, there would be no hypnosis. No drugs. They would submit willingly, fully aware of what they were doing, of what was happening to them.
"Before we begin, I have some documents both of you need to read."
He handed each of them a folder, then leaned back to watch their reactions.
Tiffany flipped through her folder quickly, her expression hardening. On seeing one of the photos, a glossy five-by-ten Anne had taken in the first month, she slapped the folder shut and threw it on Provert's desk.
"That's... that's not me."
Trying to disguise his glee, Provert drew the photo out by a corner and held it up. "It isn't? It looks like you. The document next to it has your signature on it."
"What the fuck is going on here?" Grant snarled, more concerned with what he was reading than the photograph of his wife. "How did you get this?"
Provert glanced at the folder in the man's lap. Like his limbs, his neck was long and wiry, and his chair was raised enough that he could easily see what his clients were looking at.
"That? Why, you gave it to me. It's evidence of your embezzlement. Your signed confession is on the next page." He knew exactly what was in both folders. The contents had been painstakingly constructed over the last few months. The confessions were signed in his office. By themselves, they were inadequate evidence. In Grant's case, he had given him a post-hypnotic suggestion to bring in checks, account statements, and other incriminating material from his office. Combined with the confession, it would be devastating if it ever fell into the hands of his employers.
Grant was still in denial. Clutching the folder, he turned to his wife. "Come on. Let's get out of here. This is some kind of setup."
She shook her head. "He has pictures of me! Of us!"
Feeling smug, Provert couldn't resist waving the photograph in the man's face. It was a picture of Tiffany. She was naked, on her hands and knees, with two very large men on either side, neither of them her husband.
"Tiffany! How could you!"
"It's... Grant, I don't remember doing that. He must have faked it!"
"My dear, I assure you. Everything in those folders is genuine. The photographs would stand up to any level of scrutiny."
"There are more?" Falling back into his chair, Grant began flipping through his folder again.
"These are only some of what I have," the doctor said, licking his lips. "There is a great close up of you at the end, enthusiastically performing fellatio on one of the men who fucked your wife. You will have to trust me when I tell you that both of those events occurred on the same night."
Even as Provert spoke, Grant had grown very quiet, holding that very photograph in his hands. His shoulders sagged. Defeated, the doctor thought.
While the couple sat dumbly in their chairs, Provert described some of the other evidence he had acquired, the secrets he now possessed. He even showed them the video Anne had made, the one where Grant dressed in a diaper and a pink dress while his wife spanked him and called him a sissy. Both the pictures and the video were carefully made so that nothing in them indicated where they had been taken. Nothing in the folders led back to Provert or to his two assistants.
Both of them appeared ready to vomit.
"You should know," he went on to say, "that if anything happens to me, a copy of this material will end up in the hands of the police, your employers, your colleagues, your relatives, and even the newspapers. You will certainly lose your jobs if this happens. Grant, you will likely go to jail for embezzling company funds. And you, Tiffany, will never find a teaching position again. Not after your school sees what was in your folder."
Tiffany's head fell. She hadn't shown her husband the contents of her folder, but Provert had prepared something very special for her. Inside was a sworn statement from one of her former students, who was now eighteen. In it, the student alleged that Tiffany had seduced him when he was in eleventh grade.
Like her husband's embezzlement, this was a crime she had committed even before coming into his office. When Tiffany had admitted to it under the influence of hypnosis, he had asked Julia to look into the matter. As it happened, the school even had a file on Tiffany, containing a photograph of her together with the student as well as the sworn statement. The student had refused to press charges and his parents had acquiesced, not wanting to make life more difficult for their child. Provert had been positively joyful when that file found its way into his possession.
Of course, Tiffany hadn't told her husband about her little fling. The school had pressured her into taking a leave of absence, but she had informed Grant it was just because she needed a break.
"What do you want? Money? We have money." Grant said this almost eagerly, blackmail being something he could understand.
"Nothing like that. What I want is for the two of you to volunteer for my experiment."
He described it to them. What he was researching. Why it was so important that they partake willingly, without hypnosis or drugs. What the consequences would be if they backed out, or didn't fulfill their part to the best of their abilities. Every two weeks, he would check on their progress. He didn't mention that Anna would be observing them as well.
"Think of it like a vacation," he said. "A vacation from your lives. When the time is up, I will destroy the evidence, and you can go back to being yourselves again."
Provert just nodded when they agreed to his terms. He wasn't surprised. They had to agree. He even had them sign a contract, one that allowed him to do whatever he wanted with them, and gave him power of attorney over them both. The surgeon he had lined up, Doctor Hawke, had demanded the legal niceties. Hawke was willing to play along (if he didn't, Provert had threatened to release [i]his[/i] file to the police; as bad as Grant and Tiffany were, at least they hadn't murdered anyone.) In his explanation to the couple, Provert had left out the bit about surgery, but there was no way they would be able to fill their new roles without it. Grant especially.
They didn't even look at each other when Provert injected them. After they slipped into a trance, he gave them a few more post-hypnotic suggestions. Nothing that would interfere with the experiment, of course. But it wasn't cheating to prepare them a little. After the first week, the suggestions would fade, and they would be on their own.
After he was finished, he phoned Hawke and told him to get ready. Shortly after he hung up, Anne came in.
"Is it done?" he asked.
She grinned at the sight of Tiffany and Grant slumped over in their chairs. "The car is gone." She began removing their wallets and Tiffany's purse. "The rental van is waiting downstairs and Doctor Hawke sent some people to help collect bodies."
"Make sure you take them around to the back of the clinic."
Nodding, Anne invited two burly men in to carry Grant and Tiffany out of the office. Provert knew them both already. They were the men from the video, the ones who had fucked and (in Grant's case) been blown by the two helpless test subjects.
"Be careful with them, boys," Provert said. "I don't want them damaged before surgery."
"Don't worry, doc." The man easily lifted Grant over his shoulder. "I liked this one. He had a very talented tongue. Say," he paused on his way out the door. "What kind of experiment are you doing?"
Provert carefully filed the two folders away. He had copies, obviously, but there was no point in leaving evidence lying around. "It's a new kind of therapy I've developing. Very sophisticated. Let's call it all-inclusive role-playing."
"Yeah?" The other man had Tiffany in his arms. "And what roles are they going to be playing?"
Provert hesitated. He knew both the men. They worked for Hawke, but they were reliable, as long as someone was paying their fee. He didn't think they would tell anyone else, and even if they did, who would believe them? Also, the feeling of triumph was making him less cautious than he usually was.
"Anne and I have prepared something special for both of them," he finally said. "They're going to be playing the role of..."  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
| Members who added to this interactive story also contributed to these: |
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
More by this author