by Zephyr

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© Copyright 2020 - Zephyr - Used by permission

Storycodes: M/f; mind-control; drug; mpov; bond; oral; sex; cuffs; leash; denial; outdoors; drug; exhib; naked; reluct; nc; X

Desert Run

It's really not wise of me to say exactly how and where I came up with this device, let me say it was a tool of the cold war and it wasn't ours. The code word for the project was "Nightshot." I, as a military pharmaceutical analysis contractor was assigned to analyze it, apparently seized from the Russians but even I am not 100% sure.

Mechanically the device was pretty simple. it was basically a high-pressure immunization injector, with a few modifications to make it damn near noiseless. The chemical was an enzyme held in a delivery chemical base. The enzyme was like nothing I've ever seen and nothing I could find in bio-chemical literature, and it was clearly brilliant. The chemical neutralized the enzyme that controlled the critical thinking portion of a person's brain. In short, if you got shot with this, for the next five to ten minutes you became completely suggestible and anything said to you while under that influence would be completely accepted as truth. The Russians had perfected a mind control drug!

The delivery system was a hollow quarter-inch rod with a trigger an inch or two below the tip. Apparently, you walked up to the person you were going to capture, pressed the tip of this unit up against their clothing and fired it. It was a high-pressure delivery system, but was noiseless. It had no hiss that could be heard, unlike most high-pressure delivery systems, and it was powerful enough to work through most cloth thinner than leather. The chemical worked within a quarter-second: the target had enough time to start to crease his or her face, then the enzyme hit them and they were still functional enough to continue whatever they were doing, walking, etc., but anything said to them went straight to their core without filtering.

To prove my analysis, I built a similar model for the demonstration and compounded a vial of Nightshot (as I named the chemical) for the military. Actually, I was on my 5th injector unit before I got it right and compounded about ten gallons of it (once I got the chemical mix right) to prove it could be repeatable. It was only minor to fix the other four units to work correctly once I had gotten the fifth injector system right. When I turned in my research, I only presented two injectors and a vial of the American-made chemical equivalent. The other three injectors and the rest of the enzyme were carefully sealed and buried in a box in my side yard. I knew I had something big here, the Russians had it and now our military had it, but I wanted some of it just in case something ever came up. Nothing ever came of the project again that I ever heard about and I decided that at least five years needed to pass before I even thought about touching what I'd buried. It would still be ok, with that chemical base the enzyme ought to be potent for about two decades.

Five years did pass. I left that research lab, spent about two years with a biotech start-up that went belly-up, then settled into the R&D department of a traditional pharmaceutical. I never thought about the Nightshot buried in my side yard until I started to notice Marcia.

Marcia worked in accounting. Marcia was a bigger, healthy girl, but not overly so. Not fat by any stretch, but nowhere near a stick. The thing that brought her to my attention was the things she wore to work, short skirts, thin blouses, high heels, always attractively dressed. Then one day the general announcement went out that she was getting married. She and I didn't know each other more than knowing who each other was and maybe saying hi as we passed in the hallway, so I didn't go but of course wished her well.

I noticed something, as a few months had passed: She had given up on the nice clothes. Somewhere I started getting a little bitter. Just another woman who would dress nice to hook someone but once the fish was landed, all that stuff just wasn't necessary. Unfortunately, I had first-hand experience with this.

I remembered the Nightshot and decided this was enough of a cause and long enough had passed since my military contractor life. I spent the remainder of the week thinking about just how to do this and late that Saturday night I dug the case back up. Everything inside was fine and the testing I did showed everything was still in working order. I decided at least one live test was needed.

I went to a mall and walked around until I found what I was looking for: a young couple both in their twenties. They were clothes shopping and every once in a while they would break up and go into separate stores. He was average, well dressed, from all looks a normal guy. She was dressed in a loose shirt and long skirt and looked rather stuck up and she was giving him a hard time. I waited until they were both in separate stores and walked up beside her. I had the Nightshot wand inside my wrist up my sleeve, all I had to do was reach out just a little and press the trigger. When she moved more or less off by herself for a moment by some dresses, I took my opportunity.

She was bending over, and managed to straighten halfway up before the Nightshot hit her. She finished straightening up and looked at me but by that time she was under the drug so she stood silently and waited.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"Lauren Vespucci" she answered.

"Lauren, pretend to talk with me as if I was answering a question to you about the clothes. If someone goes into earshot, ask questions and interact with me until they pass. Do you understand?"


"Do you like wearing revealing clothes?" I looked around, but boyfriend was still nowhere in sight.


"Why not?"

"I'm too ugly. My legs are too fat."

"Show me." She lifted her skirt almost to her waist. Her legs looked fine, about a 7 on a 1 to 10 scale to me.

"You no longer feel concerned that your legs or any part of your body are anything but appropriate for any kind of clothes your boyfriend or husband wants you to wear. You like showing affection and feel sexy and happy when dressed up or naked for your man. You will go into a changing room in a minute or two and take off your bra and panties and leave them there. When your man returns you will get him in semi-public, then take his hands, and place those hands on your body in such a way as to show him you are no longer wearing these items. Then you will do your best to get him into a dressing room where you will desperately want him to have sex with you. You will agree with anything he wants if he will do his best to bring you to an orgasm there. Do you understand so far?"

"Yes." Two minutes, no sign of boyfriend. So far so good.

Now for the critical part: "When I snap my fingers, you will lose all recall of this conversation, all recall of being given these instructions, and of seeing me in this store until I leave it. You will not pay any special attention or take any special notice of me. You will go back to whatever you were doing when I walked up and will not be receptive to any further instructions you are given that you wouldn't have agreed to yesterday. Is this understood?"

"Yes." I moved away and as I parted I snapped my fingers. Her eyes flickered, she gathered herself for a second, then went back to looking at the skirt.

I went to the far side of the store and browsed, watching her. I was starting to wonder if I had wasted my time. Something had happened, she hadn’t slapped me and called mall security as we were talking. A moment later she took off with a dress for the dressing room and when she emerged from the room in her regular clothes, it could be seen from the pleasant bouncy rhythm when she walked that she was braless.

Her boyfriend walked up and she went to meet him. He did a double-take when he noticed that pleasant bounce but she went up to him and kissed him deeply for a second. Then she backed away, asked him with a wild smile to come take a look at some clothes in the back of the store with her, which he, flustered, did.

They walked to a back corner of the store, and she showed him a short silk sundress. I was about twenty feet away, pretending to be looking at something else and could barely tell what they were doing.

She took his hands, and did something that caused him to bend down. I figured she was running his hands up her legs to reveal her lack of panties. He had the weirdest but laser-sharp interested look on his face when he stood up. Then she looked around, took his hands, placed it under her shirt on her stomach, then moved them up inside her shirt until they rested firmly on her bare breasts. It pulled her shirt up a little but nobody was there to see it. She had a big shit-eating grin and he looked like he might faint or run but he wasn't about to move. Then without moving his hands, she wrapped her arms around him and started kissing him deeply.

She kept it up for a few long seconds, then backed away, breaking the kiss and pulling his hands out from under her shirt which then fell down to a normal length. She grabbed the short silk dress, giggled, crooked a finger toward him, then headed toward the dressing rooms. He followed, a moth to a flame. They both wound up in the dressing room, but after about ten minutes they re-emerged, her wearing the dress (she was wrong, her legs looked great). She couldn't wear a bra with that dress: It was too low-cut in back and the silk was tight enough to show she wasn't wearing panties either. She looked awesome in it. They both stepped out of the dressing room, him with the shit-eating grin this time and her looking a bit scrambled. Freshly fucked. They paid for the dress, put her old clothes in the store bag, and made a speedy exit out of the store and out of the mall.

Well, I guess that test could be considered a success. I followed them out to the parking lot at an extreme distance. When they got to their car, they apparently spent a long, long time necking until they finally pulled out and drove away.

The next day, having proven the Nightshot still effective, I started planning out exactly what I was going to do with Marcia.

I found out more about her. She had a really bad relationship a few years ago, but now she was married and lived in the suburbs in the east outskirts of town. Her wedding and honeymoon went well according to friends in common and she was settling back into life. Everything still seemed go and I had an idea how to get her back to what she promised as opposed to what these days she was delivering.

I began carrying the wand with me just in case a chance came. After two weeks, I saw her waiting alone for the elevator, and I joined her, making it look completely unplanned.

The door opened. It was empty and we both walked in. As the door closed, she was looking through some of the papers in her hand. I reached out to her side with the wand and pressed the trigger.

"Hey...owww..." She had a moment to say before the drug hit her. I had about 30 seconds in the elevator which should be enough. I had my lines memorized, and it took 20 seconds to say them.



"When you hear the words 'Nightshot is my life', you will follow the instructions of the person who said the words completely and fully without hesitation. Do you understand?"


"You will not remember this conversation. You will remember that the ride in the elevator went without incident and we did not speak. Do you understand?"


"When the door opens, you will continue with your business and will not be receptive to any instructions you would not have accepted yesterday. Do you understand?"

"Yes." Ding! The elevator sounded our arrival at the ground floor.

The door opened and she walked out without speaking to me or looking back. I figured I had pushed my luck way too far for one day and watched her walk away.

Three days later I found out I had a new project and she was one of my key team members. This was awesome; It would provide me with a reason to be around her without raising too much undue notice.

One day as a team meeting ended, I asked her to stay behind to explain in depth some of the project figures. Once everyone else had left and she moved up to talk to me I decided to try the trigger phrase.

"Marcia: Nightshot is my life."

She frowned at me for a second. "Yeah, right. Whatever."

"Marcia. Would you please close the conference room door?"

She stood up and walked to the door, closed it, then started to return to her seat.

"Sit here, instead." I indicated a seat that had the table between the door and the seat. She didn't break stride, just sat where I indicated.

"Marcia: Without standing up or showing yourself outside the window or outside the conference room I want you to take off all your clothes below the waist and hand them to me under the table."

This was the big test. Either she was going to prove the Nightshot had worked, or I was about to get involved in a big HR debacle and lose the project at best and maybe my job. At very least I'd be thoroughly slapped. I almost couldn't breathe.

For a long second she sat still, her expression unchanging. Then she reached under the table and began doing things. First, she handed me her heels, then after a long struggle and a lot of wiggling, I felt her place her pants and underwear in my lap.

With a big smile I left her clothes in my chair, then got up and walked beside her. "Scoot back and show me you're naked below the waist." She rolled the chair far enough back to prove it. I sat back down in my chair.

"Marcia: Take off the rest of your clothes and hand them to me." This was the biggest test. No one would ever do this. If she did, she would be clearly topless to anyone passing in the hallway. But after a second, she reached for her blouse and started unbuttoning.

"Marcia: Stop!" I commanded. I passed her clothes back to her. "Without showing yourself, dress as you were when you entered the room." She took a few minutes, but was then dressed normally.

I figured I had taken enough of her time. I instructed her to forget what happened, then to pop out of it. When she did, I thanked her for helping me understand things, then she gathered herself up and left. It worked perfectly! What was I going to do with her now?

I instructed her to start wearing miniskirts to work again on occasion, as she did before, weather permitting. She did, usually once a week, sometimes twice. One time at a meeting she was wearing a short denim mini (I love those!). I caught her after the meeting and under the Nightshot hold I asked her what had changed due to her wearing miniskirts again. I asked her to discuss it with me as if I were her best friend, who she shared everything with and held back nothing.

"Nancy in Training doesn't like it; I think she's jealous. Neither does Carrie. Gene and Larry are ogling me again now. Tony, my husband. says he isn't thrilled that his wife goes out in such short skirts but he understands that in today's world it's normal and unfortunately expected." She giggled. "Actually, he's a lot more attentive to me on days when I do." She sighed heavily then smiled. "And we have sex more often now!"

"What sort of sex life do you and Tony have?"

She sighed. "The usual. Missionary or maybe doggie-style sometimes. He's not a wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am sort of person, fortunately for me! We usually both get what we want and he knows how to use his equipment."

"Does he ever go down on you?"

"He's asked. We've done it a bit. It's ok, but I like straight sex better."

"Ever go down on him?"

"Yeech! No way." She sighed again, looked a little downcast. "Actually, he's wanted me to do that, but I just can't bring myself to do it. It's so dirty! Catholic girl, you know, and all that... It's a sore spot, but I make it up to him in more conventional ways, if you know what I mean."

"Marcia: You no longer feel that that is dirty. You don't mind the thought of doing that, especially with Tony. If he asks you why, tell him you love him and you're trying to be pleasing to him. If he asks you to do that, you will be at least as willing to go down on him as you would be willing to have intercourse with him. Do you understand?"


"You will tell me, privately and when the opportunity presents, all about what happens each time you go down on him and how it goes. Do you understand?"


I released her from the Nightshot hold and we finished our business conversation. I watched as she walked away; I always had a high appreciation for denim miniskirts on women with awesome legs.

I had set Marcia up to talk to me like that when we were alone, with an emphasis on her sex life, and that I didn't need to trigger her to get her to take my commands to heart. We had a lot of conversations after meetings or on occasional lunches, and I watched her sex life blossom with some minor guidance from me. Over a month or two she had gone down on him a bunch of times and he was tutoring her in how to do it. She'd gotten to the point she could bring him off that way regularly. Now it was time to move on to the next step and Tony's wife was going to get a little more wild and less inhibited. We were off at lunch with no one around to hear us.

"Marcia," I asked. "Have you ever been tied up or restrained when you had sex?"

She looked at me. "Wouldn't you like to know!" After a pause, nearly in a whisper. "I tried it twice when I was in high school. A guy named Justin. He really liked it but it didn't do anything for me. He tied my hands up to the headboard, then sat on my chest and played with himself until he was good and hard, then slid down and finished himself off inside of me. The second time, he tied my hands behind my back and had sex with me. It was all too weird for me, so I broke off with him."

"Tony ever wanted to do that?"

"He's never asked."

"Ask him. You will find you like it. You will find being tied up is a real turn-on, because you're not responsible for what happens to you when you can't control it and you are so totally his for the taking, you're giving yourself so totally to him. Why don't you ask him to try this with you and let me know the next day how it went?"

"Ok." The drug was still in effect on her.

She came up to me a week or so later. "I tried what you suggested, and asked him to tie me up. For the first few minutes he wasn't sure but he did it. He wasn't super-happy, but he still came."

"What do you think of it?"

She giggled. "It was fun, struggling a bit, and you're right, being not in control was freeing. More Catholic schoolgirl I guess."

"How's the going down on him stuff working out?"

"Oh, that." She rolled her eyes. "THAT he can't get enough of. Any time I blink like I'm ready he's willing."

"Hmmph. What if you told him you weren't giving blowjobs any more, unless you were tied up and couldn't say no?"

She gasped in mock horror. "Yeah, but would he let me go in time to get to work?"

I smiled. "You will tell me how it works out, right?"

"Yeah, of course. You know I tell you everything."

"This isn't going well." Marcia confided in me a week or so later. I told him I wasn't in the mood to give b-js for a while, figuring he would tie me up and make me, but he hasn't figured that out. Instead he's mad as hell at me."

"Maybe you should shout it out as a dare to him. Tell him he can't make you do it to him."

"Hmm. Not a bad thought..."

She came by the next Monday morning. She was dressed in pants and a long blouse and her hair wasn't perfectly combed as it usually was. I looked at her as she walked up and raised my eyebrows. "Sister, you had a weekend, by the looks of it."

She smiled at me under raised eyebrows. "You can't dream the half of it." She sagged into the chair across from my desk. "I'm so tired. But you remember us talking about him not being able to get it? That problem is way, way, way solved."

She went on into her weekend. Friday night, Tony had again asked her for a blowjob and she had said no. She'd have traditional sex or tied sex or anything else pretty much, but none of that.

He rolled over angry, and she stewed in her worry for the next three hours as far as she could remember.

The next morning, she woke up to find him already gone, with a note that he had gone to pick up a few things he needed, that she shouldn't worry, and that he loved her and would be home soon.

When he did get home, he had a big, unmarked bag of something that he wouldn't show her. He asked her one more time for a blow job and blew up when she again said no.

"Fine." He had told Marcia, as she related it to me. "I have no clue what's gotten into you, but it's your responsibility to provide for me and if you won't give me what I deserve willingly, then I will have to take it from you!"

"He ordered me to turn around away from him and not to look back. I was worried but he assured me that while I might not like what is about to happen, he would never harm me. He paused for a minute, then said, 'And actually, based on the way you've been acting recently, you might be very happy about this.’"

He grabbed something in the bag that rattled metallically. Chain? Handcuffs, maybe? He grabbed me roughly, reached around my front to pull open the tie on my robe, and pulled it loose, then the robe hit the ground and I was naked. He pulled my hands behind me, and before I knew it, he had handcuffed my hands behind my back."

"No way!"

"Way." She said wryly. She held up her hands which slid down the sleeves of her blouse, exposing her wrists. Both were bruised, one with a good black bruise on the inner side of her wrist. "I didn't get out of them until last night." She smiled. "But it wasn't that bad. My wrists aren't the only place that I'm sore, if you know what I mean..."

"What happened after he handcuffed you?"

"He tied a loop of rope around my neck in a slipknot. That I really didn't like but at the time with my hands handcuffed behind my back, I couldn't stop him. He took off all of his clothes and sat down in his favorite chair and had me kneel in front of him, then used the rope around my neck to pull me down to give him his blow job. If I tried to pull up, the rope around my neck tightened, so it wasn't as if I had a choice." She paused for a moment, then gave a cat-eaten-canary grin. "Just what I wanted."

She paused, until I prompted her. "And then?"

"Well, I got to relax for a while. He made me agree that I would give up on this ‘not in the mood’ stuff unless I wanted to be tied up and forced like this more often. I told him I’d give him his blowjobs to earn my freedom, that was ok with me. After all, I like watching him squirm when I lick him off, I just wanted him to get a little more aggressive with me, which he did. He said he kind of liked my current situation and on second thought wasn't in a hurry to change it. He didn't take the rope or the handcuffs off, though and I didn't get to wear any clothes until he took them off."


"Really. Not even going through the drive-through at the fast-food joint on the corner of 45th and Allen late Saturday night. Still naked as the day I was born. Still with my hands handcuffed behind me. With the rope still around my neck and in his hand. Fortunately, his truck has really dark-tinted windows."

I winced in sympathy as she continued. "The poor teenager at the window, he never did say a word. Just took our money, gave us our food and our change, and probably didn't stop drooling over me until we were half way home."

"Wow, some people's husbands..."

"Yeah." She said dreamily and smiled. "The sex afterward was worth it, though."

I relaxed the restriction on blow jobs for her and Tony. She still preferred being tied up to do it but didn’t have to be if she didn’t want to or it didn’t seem appropriate. I had her challenge Tony when she was otherwise willing for sex but wanted to be tied up to tell him: "No. You can’t make me." He caught on fast this time and seemed happy to do so, tying her to the bed for sex or cuffing her hands behind her back for blow jobs. Marcia always told me those tales with long contented sighs and smiles.

I didn't mess much with Marcia's sex life for a while. She and Tony seemed to be doing fine. She was now dressing nicely at work again. She and Tony were doing well enough sexually. Marcia only got tied up every once in a while now, and the experiment seemed to be a great success. Then I got a wild idea. But I would have to do it in several stages.

I asked her to start getting Tony to have sex with her outdoors. The idea was to get him used to her being naked outside.

That went well enough. They did things some times in the backyard or out in the desert. I decided to plant the idea in her head now and trust that over time she would bring it to pass. It was radical enough that I knew better than to have her push Tony too hard on it.

We had a short time after a project meeting. For this, I put her under the Nightshot hold.

"Marcia, have you ever been to Saddleback College?" I knew she went there for classes. It was on the edge of town (but probably wouldn't be the edge of town a whole bunch longer), and was in a mile-square block ringed by roads right now but other than in the college it was pretty much just open scrub in the block.

"Yes." she answered.

"You want to play a game. You want to be chased, stark naked from Elwood Road across the desert to the college parking lot. You want Tony and two to three other men to give you a short head start, then try to catch you. If one of them catches you, they can do anything they want to you for 15 minutes, including sexual things, then they must let you go. You will wear cuffs or chain around your wrists and ankles so it is easier to tie you up if you get caught. You call it 'doing a Desert Run'. You get very wet at the thought, of the chance to evade and outwit these strong males, who will do anything they want to you if they catch you. Do you understand?"


"You want to do this, and the desire to do this gets a little stronger each week, but you will only do this with Tony's agreement and if he is one of the chasers. To be honest, you only want to be caught by Tony, but you want the others there to raise the risk and danger level. Do you understand?"


"You will tell me about any progress in getting Tony to let you do 'your fantasy' and if it ever happens, you will tell me all about it. You will tell me in advance if you can. Do you understand?"


"Talk to me conversationally now. Has Tony ever wanted to have other men involved in your sex games?"

"He has asked if I would tease and flash other men. I don't know if he'd like me to actually have sex with them."

"Find out when you have the chance and let me know."

Marcia didn't have anything to say about the Desert Run scenario I gave her for several weeks. She mentioned it to him one weekend when they both were drunk, but otherwise nothing happened on that front. Then one Tuesday she came into my office somewhat excited.

"We did it, but it was just ourselves. We finally did a Desert Run."

She had finally talked him into it, at least the two of them alone. It was a spur-of-the-moment thing, so she had no chance to tell me ahead of time. They waited until about 1 AM, then they took two cars to the college. Tony left his pickup in the college parking lot in a dark corner, but not right next to the field. They got into Marcia's car and drove around to Elwood Road and parked just off the road. The best place, out of sight of the road, was on the other side of Elwood, so Marcia on her run had to cross Elwood as well as traverse the desert. They had parked then walked for about five minutes south, parallel to Elwood> She had then given Tony every stitch she was wearing except for chains around her wrists and ankles. She could start for the truck then and there, while Tony had to drop off her clothes in their car before he could start hunting her, giving her the head start.

"How'd it come out?"

"I won. He saw me, but couldn't catch me in time."

"Well, do you think you two will try that again?"

She smiled widely. "If how he ran me ragged once we got into bed is any indicator, I'm sure we will."

I smiled as she left. This Nightshot thing was working out very, very well. What would I do with it now?


The author currently has no sequels for this story planned or in the works but it’s mostly a lack of a good story idea. The author invites you, if you have some thoughts as to where this story might go, to leave a comment about it in the forum. It would be welcomed and gratefully received.

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