Sample – Making Mandy

Making Mandy

The room wasn’t his, nor could he recall ever having been inside it before. The curtains were a sheer white, drifting against the breeze that blew through the inch gap in the opening, filling the room with the smell of cut grass from somewhere. The floor was hardwood, the furniture a deep cherry oak to match, including a chest of drawers and vanity mirror and tall wardrobe. The bed was soft, and he could feel light sheets on top of him.

When he tried to sit up, he found that his arms were bound to the bedposts to his left and right, his ankles similarly constricted by professional-grade handcuffs that rattled as he shifted his weight on the bed. His head throbbed, and he let it fall back onto the soft pillow beneath.

“Hello?” he called out. “Help!”

He could hear the sound of footfalls beyond the bedroom door and watched as it swung open, revealing Janessa wearing a worried expression. She crossed the room to the bed and brushed his short brown hair back from his forehead.

“You’re awake. The doctor said it might be another hour or two. You’re a quick healer. That, as they say, bodes well.”

“Janessa, what are you doing?” he asked, rattling the cuffs. “Are you planning on kidnapping me? Look, I know hitting you was wrong, and I’m sorry, I really am, but you can’t keep someone hogtied in your house. We are in your house, aren’t we?”

“We are in a house,” she grinned and sat on the edge of the bed. “I still have some properties that haven’t sold, yet. This one just won’t sell. It’s so out of the way from anything, no one can figure out what to do with it. But I always liked it. I think it’s quaint.”

“Janessa, please…”

“I acted rashly, no doubt about that, but you just made me so goddamned mad, Martin. But, in the midst of all that darkness, I saw the light. You were right. No one wants me, no normal guy like yourself, anyways. So, after you were knocked out and I had more time to think, I realized that we could both be happy, Martin. You just need a better perspective.”

“What perspective is that? You think I’m going to get some kind of Stockholm Syndrome or something if you keep me here long enough?”

“Don’t be silly, Martin,” she said, and the light manner of her voice worried Martin far more than the handcuffs at that moment. “My father was a professor at Columbia, taught history, especially military history. What he really loved, though, were stories of Cold War experiments and secret CIA missions, all that espionage stuff.”

She idly ran her nails along his sheet-covered belly. Martin realized the sheets were satin, his favorite as she knew.

“I liked hearing him tell stories about programs designed to make someone act and believe just how you wanted them to. If I’m being honest, those stories turned me on a little,” she said, bending close to his ear, as if sharing a delightful secret. “So, I believe what we are going to do is find out if a person can be completely changed through modification. I reached out to some people my father knew, and they put me in touch with some of the old timers who still remember those programs. A couple of them even conducted these experiments.”

“What are you saying? You’re going to make me love you?”

Janessa kissed his cheek, even as he turned his head away from her.

“No, Martin. I’m going to make you like me.”

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