NOTE: These are from the posts Geoff made at the MCForum.

Only What You Want

I suddenly realized I must have been sleeping. It took a moment to sink in.

"You did it, didn't you? You hypnotized me. I didn't think you could."

"I told you I would."

"I don't feel any different."

"You're awake now. No longer in trance. Oh, I did leave a little posthypnotic suggestion."

"Um...what kind of suggestion?"

" I think you want to remove your shirt now."

"...Why did I do that? Oh shit, you made me do it! What are you gonna do next?"

"Don't worry. Remember what I told you at the start?"

"You said hypnosis can't make me do anything that I don't want to do."

"That's right. And it's absolutely true. Everyone knows that."

"I have to tell you, that's a relief. I mean, no offence, but knowing that you're gay..."

"I wouldn't make you do anything you don't want to do. Trust me."

"I do trust you."

"Good. Now I think you want to take off your pants."

"...You're right, I did want to. How could you tell?"

"You want to stop asking questions, don't you? You want to just come over here...and kneel at my feet...and wait for whatever I say next. Like the good little slave that you've always wanted to be."

It was amazing how he knew just what I wanted. And how he's always
known, ever since.

The Last Man on Earth II: It Knocks Again

He didn't move from the chair, didn't make a sound. Maybe it would think there was no one home.

No such luck. There was a second, louder knock. Then the door swung open.

The street was littered with bodies, both male and female. Every face was frozen in a rictus of unbearable pleasure, a pleasure too intense for any mortal to survive.

He barely noticed. His eyes were already glazing over as the figure in the doorway became his entire reality. He was dimly aware of his pulse racing, his cock hardening, his jaw falling open. Coherent thought was lost in a sea of lust.

"Sorry to disturb you, dear," said the incubus politely, "but you're the only one left."

The Wonderful Thing about Triggers

The wonderful thing about triggers
Is triggers are wonderful things
They'll bend your will like the rubbah
You'll dance like a puppet on strings
They're trancy, fancy, trancy, fancy,
Fun fun fun fun fun
You won't obey triggers from anyone else, 'cause I'm the only one
YeaahhIII'm - the only one!

Consider Yourself

Consider yourself entranced
Consider yourself under the influence
My hypnosis is so strong
You've lost all sense of what's right and wrong

Consider yourself my toy
Consider yourself part of the furniture
I'll freeze you as my armchair
To sit on and snuggle with anywhere

If I should need someone to type my latest book for me
Clean and cook for me
That's you
And when all I want's a helpless fuck-and-suck machine
I'll make you enjoy that too!

Consider yourself enslaved
It's not like you have a choice
For after several deep inductions I can say
You cannot resist
(Cannot resist)
My Voice!

MC Sitcom

If you're going to have an MC sitcom, then you need more than the starring couple (or triple, or quadruple) and their wacky neighbor. You must also have the precocious kids who say cute funny things:

Mom: "Now, Bobby, you're sixteen. You need to learn the value of saving up for the things you want."

Precocious Bobby: "Aw, but Mom...'Allowance Slave'!"

Mom: "...Yes, Master. How much may I give you?"

(Audience laughs uproariously.)

Precocious Bobby: "Thanks, Mom, three hundred will be fine."

(Audience laughs uproariously. Precocious Bobby leaves.)

Dad (offscreen): "Honey, I'm home!"

(Dad enters, sees Mom still in a trance.)

Dad: "Honey? Oh... That boy o' mine! He did it again!"

(Shakes head as audience laughs uproariously.)

Dad: "Say, honey, I had a rough day at the office, and now... (sings) I'm in the Mood for Love!"

(Audience applauds.)

Mom: "Yes, Master. How much may I give you?"

(Dad winks at audience, who cheer loudly. Cut to:
Precocious Bobby, greeting Suzie from Next Door on the sidewalk out front)

Precocious Bobby: "Hey, Suzie, I got the - "

Suzie from Next Door: " 'Zombie Stud'. "

No Longer Precocious Bobby: "Zom-bie o-beys, Mis-tress."

(Suzie plucks the dough from Bobby's hand and kisses his blank face. Audience cheers louder than ever. Suzie drops a halter over Bobby's shoulders as we Fade out.)

Name Games

Gordon M. Bates—Gordon M. Bates had a thoroughly miserable childhood, thanks to his parents' decision to give him his mother's maiden name as his own middle name. They proudly spelled it out on every document, from school records to summer-camp enrollment, and Gordon Master Bates never went a day without being mocked. He took to hiding out in the musty aisles of second-hand bookstores, where one day, at the age of fifteen, he stumbled upon a yellowing Victorian tome entitled The Mysterious Secrets of the East, or The Ancient Way to Influence the Minds of Others. To Gordon's astonishment, the techniques described actually worked, and he resolved that his hated middle name would become a symbol of what he truly was. Today, ten years later, the high-school jocks who bullied and taunted him have all become successful local businessmen - and secretly turn half of their profits over to Gordon, to pay for the privilege of being his personal slaves. The girls who used to giggle whenever he passed are married to those men, and haven't had sex since their weddings. Gordon's parents have no comment to make, since they are now, and believe they have always been, goatherds on the Azerbaijan steppes.

Pussy—Pussy, unknown to the authorities, has been the dominating force in Edywn Keller's life. In an earlier time, this insidiously disguised mind controller was the mastermind behind a vast criminal organization, operating through a series of disposable, interchangeable human figureheads. Since the demise of that once-powerful cadre at the hands of a British agent, Pussy has been laying low in the Texas hinterlands, appearing to most people to be an innocent, harmless white housecat. In reality, his past defeats have driven him utterly mad, and he periodically vents his fiendish rage by MC'ing puppets like Edwyn into acts of mindless violence.

Only Constance Troy of the South Texas SPCA is aware of Pussy's potential for mass destruction and world domination. Thanks to her unique genetic resistance to his powers, she has been able to abduct him and is seeking a way to finish him off. But even Constance is unable to break Pussy's mental grip completely, and finds herself unable to threaten him directly. Will she find someone to do the job for her - before Edwyn, responding to his feline Master's telepathic summons, does a job on her?

Only Peregrine Falcone knows the answer.

Brian Phillipstine—Brian Phillipstine, unable to get a date by any normal means, spent years searching the world for the fabled Jewel of Xlazcalo. He finally found it in a lost temple deep in the Bolivian jungle, guarded by a fierce but very attractive cult of headhunters. By crawling along the vine-covered ceiling, Brian managed to reach the fabulous gem unseen, and as soon as he seized it he possessed its legendary power: to turn anyone he chose into his adoring love slaves. The Brian-worshipping cult quickly spread from the hidden temple through the surrounding jungle, as entire villages fell under his erotic spell.

What Brian didn't know was that there exists a well-organized council of magic wielders...and the last thing they want is for the world to find out that such powers really exist. The council promptly dispatched a dozen of their best to take Brian down before his activities drew wider notice. Taken by surprise, he was hit by the same spell from twelve directions at once, an accumulation of mystical power that is quite irreversible. In that same moment, though, Brian unleashed his own formidable power against his attackers...

Today Brian still lives in the heart of the jungle, as the world's most worshipped, and most psychotically frustrated, miniature poodle. With twelve powerful sorcerers heading his cult, he could easily rule the world...if he could find a way to give them any command other than "Arf!"

Ms. Myrrh, an MC author roast

Ms. Myrrh

Gwynevaire Myrrh was born on May 31, 1960, to Balthazar and Eurethra Myrrh of Mountebank, Wisconsin. In their big Victorian house on Maple Street, little Gwyn had a happy childhood, playing in the spacious yard with the dolls her Grandma Annie made for her by hand. A fixture in her big wicker chair on the veranda, Grandma enthralled the girl with Russian fairy tales and ghost stories, and descriptions of life at the glamorous court of the czar. Gwyn was not without playmates her own age, though. Whenever she walked one of her dolls through the front gate, a neigborhood child would soon follow, exactly duplicating every action of the doll's limbs. A neighbor recalls, "Our moms always told us, when it's another kid's yard and another kid's toys, you play by their rules. It was the same with Gwyn - except in her yard, we were the toys."

From an early age, little Gwyn loved to visit Uncle Nelson's bookshop downtown. It was the beginning of a lifelong fascination with books, spurred by the chance to meet the authors who continued their life's work in the store's secluded back room. Mark Twain read to her from Tom Sawyer Among the Indians, Kipling told the missing Mowgli stories from memory, and Will Shakespeare held her spellbound when he acted out all the parts in his Tragedy of King Arthur. So passed many golden afternoons.

School seemed commonplace by comparison, but as Gwyn reached puberty, she developed an interest in cheerleading, or more accurately in cheerleaders. It amazed her to hear them chatter of the boys whose interest they couldn't seem to attract, and she helpfully offered to teach them some basic herb-lore. Of course, there were certain side effects to watching Gwyn prepare her philters up close, and the squad soon lost interest in the boys and concentrated on Gwyn herself. The school authorities were delighted; the cheerleading squad had never been more in synch, and the team had never been less distracted from their game. At least, until they got so frustrated that they, too, came to Gwyn for help, and...

Graduating with honors, Gwyn accepted a scholarship to prestigious Miskatonic University, where she majored in literature and minored in psychology and folklore. She quickly became the star of the school's drama club, riveting audiences both with her thespian talents and with her golden-haired, ethereal beauty. She seemed to have a unique ability to meet the eyes of every member of a theater audience at once. Many were those who gazed into those deep blue eyes and were never the same again. The sororities vied to win her as a member, but instead Gwyn started her own, and they flocked to live in her house. Not wishing to discriminate, she decided to make it the first co-ed fraternity/sorority, or as she dubbed it, "siblingity". "The other houses all seemed so shallow after that," one alumnus recalls wistfully. "They had their silly beer parties and their gossip. We had the chance to serve our Goddess."

After graduation, Gwyn decided to travel for a while; her parents, having passed on, had left her a substantial inheritance, and encouraged her to see the world. From 1982 to 1985 she lived a roving life, riding dolphins in the Aegean, yeti racing in Nepal, shooting the rapids of the Nurubamba in a bark canoe. It was at the Carnivale in Rio that she attracted the attention of the famously reclusive multimillionaire, Valentine Koala. Over snow crab legs and tangerine wine, the odd little man invited her to become caretaker of his vast private library. Intrigued by his collection, and considerably more by his statuesque teenaged twins Norman and Irma, Gwyn agreed to give it a try. But for someone so accustomed to travel, Koala's domed estate at the bottom of the Pacific soon came to seem far too confining. With the genetically-enhanced, superbly-built twins in tow, she stole a submarine and escaped.

The next four years were largely happy ones for Gwyn. Norman and Irma were loving companions, and were perpetually awed by the sights and sounds of the huge upper world. But whenever they settled in one place for long, the relentless Shark Men would appear, always seeking to return the twins to their father's watery domain. The martial arts and ninja techniques that Gwyn had learned in her travels came in handy many a time. But in the end, it was no way to live. Sadly, the siblings chose to go back to the sea and let their lover live in peace, figuring that their father couldn't live forever.

Alone again, Gwyn felt adrift and depressed. Deciding that it was time she got a more stable life, she found employment as an events coordinator at Barnes & Noble. She was appalled, however, at the seemingly endless line of disposable celebrities plugging their New Age self-help diet books. Looking to liven things up, she persuaded her old acquaintance Nero Caesar Germanicus to come and read from his autobiography, Lyre, Lyre, House on Fire. The colorful speaker brought down the house. Unfortunately, he also razed it to the ground, and Gwyn was unemployed once more.

In 1991, Gwyn returned to Mountebank for the funeral of Uncle Nelson, and was astonished to find that he had left the bookshop to her. Should she stay? Walking the quiet streets of her home town, she realized that, for all the wonders of the world that she had seen, she had an attachment for these shady lanes and spreading oaks, these century-old storefronts facing cobblestoned streets, that would not be denied. It was time that her parents' house was lived in again.

It was on her very first day as proprietress of the bookshop, as she flipped through the yellow pages looking for someone to help restore her neglected family home, that a darkly handsome, charismatic man in a dark blue suit inquired the price of a newly-autographed book of Emily Dickinson. Noting Gwyn's research, the charming stranger mentioned that he himself had some experience at fixing up old houses, and offered to take a look. By the end of the day, he was hired. By the time the renovation work was finished, they were in love. Gwyn had finally found a soul-mate who seemed to share nearly all of her interests and passions.

The ceremony of their union was a quiet and private one, held in the drawing room of the Myrrh house itself. Gwyn's parents gave their daughter away with pride, as Grandma and Uncle Nelson beamed. Sappho sang an ode to love that she had composed especially for the occasion. The cider was perfectly chilled, the pumpkin pie was served hot, and all agreed that it was the start of something beautiful.

And it was.

How the Mummy Stole Helen

by Dr. Wersgor

The rule is that mummies just lie there and rot,
But Imhotep, the high priest of Karnak, did not.
He rose from his tomb, by means dark and devious,
And went for a walk, plotting mischeif mis-cheevy-us,
For word had gone out that the Cairo Museum
Had dug up his neighbors so people could see 'em.
The sweet Anck-'sen-Amon, his would-have-been bride,
Was laid out on display in a glass case inside
And Imhotep pondered, wrinkling his brow:
"I must resurrect Anck-'sen-Amon - but how?"
Then, as he stood thinking and shuffling his feet,
He saw Helen Grosvenor crossing the street.
His whole face lit up with a mean mummy smile
That frightened the scales off the Nile crocodiles.
"I know!" said Imhotep. "I'll kidnap that beauty!
Anck-'sen-Amon's all dried up, but Helen's a cutie.
She's dating Frank Whemple, but that doesn't matter;
I'll take her to someplace where Frank can't get at her.
She'll melt in my arms when we get to my temple,
For who'd want to marry somebody named Whemple?
My princess will live once again, never fear!
I'll remove her soul there - then I'll put it back here."
The mummy made haste, with deadly devotion,
To put his diabolical plan into motion
And, posing as Ardath Bey, kindly old scholar,
Took Helen where no one would hear should she holler.
He showed the girl visions of lives that had been
And told her reliving past love was no sin.
But the plan that Imhotep found sweet and romantic
Drove poor captive Helen to protests most frantic.
"You want to transplant my soul into a mummy?
That isn't true love - it's decidedly crummy!
I don't want to be something dead and decayed!
O great goddess Isis, come to my aid!"
And what happened then? Well, in Cairo they say
That the hand of the goddess waas felt on that day.
Isis' power reached out like a bolt from above
To save Helen from Imhotep's dark, twisted love.
Instead of fulfilling his blasphemous lust,
His mummified body dissolved into dust.
And, as Helen gave thanks to the heavenly power
That saved her from doom in her life's darkest hour,
The winds of the desert silently cried
For a soul long lost, and a love that had died.


...but when he was alone in his little stable, his expression turned as cold as the polar wastes.

" 'Go down in history'! Ha!" he snarled bitterly. "And that's it? No apology for all the slurs and insults. No regret for all the times you wouldn't let me join in your games. Now, just because the FREAK turned out to be useful, I'm supposed to believe you suddenly love me?"

His voice rose, cracking. "I'll play games with you, all right! I'll smile and laugh and pretend you have me fooled - just to set you up for my fiendish revenge! You will pay for what you did to this reindeer! Oh - how - you - all - will - PAY!!"

The northern lights trembled to the echo of his mad laughter.