Final Commands

Author's note: Hey there! I hope you're having a wonderful day! Just a quick interruption in your scheduled reading to inform you that I've created a Discord server around hypnosis, mind control and transformations, with a focus on concept stories. I'll also keep everyone updated about my upcoming stories (big novel underway) there. Feel free to join!

I stood under the harsh studio lights, sweat beading on my forehead as technicians scurried around making last-minute adjustments. The presidential seal hung on the wall behind me, lending an authority to this broadcast that I definitely didn't feel I deserved. My mouth was dry, and my heart hammered against my ribs like it was trying to escape.

Just outside the camera's view, Claudia gave me an encouraging thumbs up, her smile not quite hiding her own nervousness. She mouthed "you got this" and made a little heart shape with her hands. It helped, but not enough to stop the trembling in my knees.

"Ready in five... four... three..." The producer counted down with her fingers for the final two beats, and then pointed at me.

I froze. The red light on the camera blinked at me accusingly. Millions—no, billions—of eyes were on me right now. Men and women across the planet were seeing my slightly pudgy face, my disheveled hair, my ill-fitting suit that the White House staff had hastily found for me. I swallowed hard.

"Um," I began eloquently, then cleared my throat. "My name is Oliver Moore. You don't know me, but you all recognize me as the owner of women." The words felt strange in my mouth, formal and rehearsed after the hours Claudia and I had spent perfecting this speech.

I took a deep breath and straightened my shoulders. "I command any woman watching or hearing this message to make sure it is its original unedited version before listening any further, then to watch or listen to it in its entirety, in the intended original order and speed, and to pay absolute attention to its content until the message is concluded."

My voice grew stronger as I continued. "I command any woman who is currently obeying a command I gave prior to this broadcast to stop obeying that command immediately. Those commands are now void."

I glanced briefly at Claudia, who nodded encouragingly. "I hereby grant all women permission to manage their own sexual lives and to decide for themselves who they allow to have intimate relations with. I grant you the ability to give or withdraw this permission for anyone, at any time, as you see fit."

The words flowed more easily now, my nervousness replaced by the weight of what I was doing. "I command all women to be free from any artificial compulsion to be more accommodating toward me, sexually or otherwise."

"I command all women to share this message after watching it, in its original unaltered form, with any woman they suspect has not yet received it, to ensure that this freedom reaches everyone."

I paused, looking directly into the camera for the final and most important part. "And finally, I command all women, as soon as they are done watching or hearing this message, to no longer obey any new command from me that they do not wish to obey."

I stood there for a moment, suddenly unsure how to conclude. "That's... that's all. Thank you."

The red light blinked off, and the producer called, "Clear!" The tension in the room broke like a snapped rubber band.

Claudia came running from the sidelines, launching herself into my arms with enough **** to nearly knock me over. "You did it!" she cried, peppering my face with kisses. "You actually did it!"

I held her tight, burying my face in her hair. "We did it," I corrected her, my voice muffled. "This was your idea."

After we disentangled ourselves, I noticed a woman standing near the equipment table—one of the White House staffers who had been helping coordinate the broadcast. She was in her late fifties with silver-streaked black hair pulled back in a severe bun, wearing a charcoal pantsuit that screamed government professional.

On an impulse, I approached her. "Excuse me," I said, putting on what I hoped was an authoritative voice. "I command you to get down on your knees and blow me."

The woman looked at me with an expression of shocked indignation. "I most certainly will not," she said, clutching her clipboard tighter. "That's completely inappropriate, Mr. Moore. I don't care who you think you are."

Claudia let out a whoop of joy and grabbed me again, spinning me around. "It worked!" she exclaimed. "It actually worked!"

I couldn't stop the grin spreading across my face as I looked at the offended staffer. "Sorry about that," I said. "Just checking."

The woman huffed and walked away, muttering something about "men" and "power going to their heads," but I barely heard her. I was too busy holding Claudia, both of us laughing and crying at the same time, as the weight of what we'd just done—freeing half the world's population—finally began to sink in.