Knock Knock

"Mom!" George knew he could lie and tell any story he could ever dream up. He remembered reading that the transmission and acquisition of AGS was poorly understood, but that each patient became nearly entirely worthless to society. As such, society kind of turned a blind eye. Doctors reiterated concern and advice. Friends offered condolences. Jobs declined current and future employment. There were no magnanimous institutions the afflicted could turn to take care of them. [ that sounds like a story for another time]

"I see a letter from your doctor came." Even through the closed door, he heard his mother moan in some kind of anguish. But George continued. "You know you can trust me to take care of you. Come out so I can inspect you the way you've been diligently training me to do so for years." A good way to manage the fear the afflicted feel when told anything, especially in vague or hesitant manners, is to make them think it was their idea from the start. "From here on, every single thing I do to you is because you have instructed me to do so." George feels no qualms about the start of his empire of terror, although his mother will not see it like that. In some way, the mother George once knew is gone, and he's about to entirely take advantage of someone who looks like her. He chuckled. On some level, he knew he was about to commit acts of ****, **** and battery, to a poor unsuspecting female. On another, his mother had escaped justice for her treatment of her son...George realized he could amend the narrative.

Her bedroom door opens and Mary shuffles out, completely at ease, if not disheveled from sleeping for a few days. She caught his laugh and responded with a smile, opening her mouth to speak.

But George wasn't done yet. "You love me like you've never loved another. You have always loved me. You follow my commands because you know it's right and you have worked all these years to be a law-abiding citizen. Isn't that correct?"

"Oh George, I love you so much." Her face softens even more. "I know you'll take care of me, and I can follow your instructions because I never break the law."

"Who is this...George?" He slowly enunciates it like its a word of foreign nature. "You're allowed to call me Master. To you, I am your Master. What does the word master mean in this context?"

Mary is crestfallen. "I forgot, Master. I think it means that I serve your every whim. That you're in charge and every little thing you tell me to do is exactly what should be done. I follow your rules, Master."

"Good, Mary. Do you remember if you've ever hated me or laughed at me or bullied me?"

"No, Master, I have never acted like that!" AGS is such a powerful affliction. Mere seconds ago, George had rewritten Mary's history, and she was none the wiser. Of course she would not remember such behavior. "I have loved you always."

"Do you remember training to be my concubine? It is a thought nearly as strong as your love for me. You are a piece of meat for my pleasure." He motions to the floor at his feet. "Kneel for your inspection. You always kneel with your hands behind your back. You wait eagerly, and quietly for my attention".

His bitch of a mother is all but gone, and an obedient older woman is in her place, a woman who knows she's a fucktoy for her Master. George walks past her kneeling figure, and into the bedroom he has never been allowed to enter.