Why not hit the 24-hour gym?

"You know...speaking of the gym--I bet there aren't many people at Workout World this time of night." She read the letter from Tomorrow industries over again, and grinned. "So I'm not allowed to talk about what the stuff is--or where it's from, but it doesn't say a word about field testing it..." She said.

And then her eyes hung on the last paragraph of the letter.

Anything under the influence of Manacite is under your complete and total control.

Anything. Britney looked down at her chest again, imagining her tits perking. They obeyed. When she imagined herself squeezing them, palm-shaped marks pushed at her skin from the outside, and invisible fingers seemed to curl around them, elongating her breasts as the emulated hands grabbed them. Britney savored the feeling of touching herself without hands, and her mind wandered to her clitoris, which began flicking itself. "Uh--huhhhh..." Britney moaned. Even her own body listened to her.

No verbal command is beyond its limits. Just document what you use it on and how you command them and you’ll be rewarded with a lifetime supply...

No verbal command? Maybe she'd have to test that claim a little more thoroughly. As for documenting it, Britney looked at her phone on the bed.

"Hey, did we spray that down?" She asked. The phone lifted off of the mattress and rose toward her. "I guess that answers that question." She turned around to look at her two gym outfits and had a plan. "Spray my gym bag--and then you two collapse into it, okay?" She said. "I need...something relaxed. Something comfortable." Britney looked at her closet, imagining herself leafing through her hangers from a distance. As she slid her hand back and forth, each hanger shuffled aside. Every item in the closet had been hit by the mist.

"You know what? How many spray bottles do I have?" Britney grinned. "Go ahead and hit anything in my bathroom that can hold more stuff." The spray bottle and paint brushes headed toward her bathroom, and she called after them. "Rinse first! Mix a vial in, fill 'em up, and throw 'em in the bag!"

She found a maroon sweatsuit to dress in, bringing it to life and having it slip itself over her t-shirt and shorts. In the bathroom, everything had already been misted. Britney hadn't meant for the brush to rise up and start drawing her hair together--but now she had only to think about an action, and the affected items started into action all on their own.

She shrugged, giggling as she turned back to her phone. As she imagined opening her video recording app, the mobile phone complied, and now she was staring at a mirror image of herself as the phone hovered in front of her.

"Nah--let's use the better lens," she said, "and get my good side!" The phone turned around, hovering to her left as she made a motion with her hands like a scene clapper. "Action," she said.

"Since I was asked to document my findings, I figured I'd start here," Britney narrated for her camera. "It's--really really good to remember..." She trailed off. "Uh, I mean--the importance of commanding an affected object when you administer the Manacite on said object cannot be understated," She said with an official-sounding register. This stilted professionalism didn't last. "Seriously, like, once the stuff was out--the container I put it in got an idea in its head...or like, in its atoms, or whatever--to just start pouring the stuff on other things, and I actually couldn't keep up with it. There was sort of an apartment full of rogue objects for a few minutes, and I actually didn't know how to undo it. Once you bring something to life with this stuff--either you command it immediately, or it comes under its own command...whatever that means." Britney thought about it for a second. When the spray bottle started getting out of control, where did the uncommanded objects get their ideas? She wasn't sure. "The point is, they'll do sort of--whatever they want. I was lucky they didn't hurt me, if I'm being honest."

She thought back again. They weren't actually threatening her--though they did try to make damn sure that she couldn't reassert control--at least until she drank the stuff in desperation.

"However!" She said, raising her pointer to the camera. "I, um, wasn't sure what to do, so I just drank a vial of the stuff. Which...I hope doesn't have any other side-effects I'm not aware of. You said it was non-toxic..." A hair tie rose off of her vanity and flipped into her hair, deftly stretching and coiling over itself as the hairbrush coordinated, effectively tying her hair back. "I haven't had any ill-effects so far, but the benefit of drinking it--which was a little tingly, by the way--was to give me some kind of hyper-control over not just my body parts...but I could also control the Manacite that had affected the other objects in the house," She said. "So really--it was kind of a lifesaver."

Britney looked at herself in the mirror, and back at her phone. "So--because it's late at night, I'm going to head to my gym to experiment with the material in a way that won't cause too much of a scene. And--as requested, I won't disclose anything about the product. I will continue my documentation then!" Britney had the phone stop recording. It sailed into a pocket of her sweatshirt, and she grabbed her keys and pocketbook as the gym bag's canvas handles rose up to meet her hand.

She grabbed a row of vials from the box of Manacite and was just out the door before she made one last request to her apartment.

"Hey, um--clean up for me while I'm gone, would you? Fresh sheets might be nice, too." She closed the door and headed to her car. She had one little stop to make before she hit the gym.

* * *

The woman at the register gave Britney a look when she checked out with a dozen misting bottles. She just smiled, not feeling the need to offer an explanation unless she was asked.

When she got back to her car, it was already after midnight. She was feeling adventurous--and her control over things since she'd swallowed the Manacite was so complete that she was pretty confident about what she was about to do. "Go ahead and...spray the car." Britney said, raising an eyebrow. Her gym bag unzipped, letting one of the three spray bottles out. The thing dusted the interior, then the panel and the steering column. Britney felt fluttery as she anticipated the machine's reaction to the Manacite. She felt a tingling feeling again, swearing she could feel the upholstery moving beneath her. The climate controls started fiddling with themselves, and Britney's eyes lit up.

"Okay, okay--here's the deal. You're going to be my official chauffeur, okay? First off--you gotta go where I tell you to. Make sure you don't hurt any people, don't hit anyone or any other vehicles, and don't do anything that's going to get me a ticket." Britney took a deep breath.

The thing shifted into gear, and Britney's eyes went wide as the steering wheel spun on its own, reversing her out of the parking spot and shifting again. The radio turned itself up, and Britney gasped as the seatbelt pulled itself over her, clicking into place. It stopped dutifully at the exit of the parking lot, turning its own right signal on. It came to a full stop before executing a right on red--and now Britney bit her lip as the car left the parking lot, accelerating down the road on its own.

There was something absolutely enthralling about being in a car driving all on its own, and Britney couldn't help but tweak her own nipples--without even touching them, of course--as she drifted down the four-lane on the way to the gym across town.