Slip the MILF a mickey

You pour a liberal dose of the **** you discovered into Ms. Branco's drink. You put a little booster in Mary's juice as well, just for good measure. She is very well conditioned, but you don't want any resistance cropping up once you start playing with her mother.

Ms. Branco returns without Mary. Presumably Mary is inserting an unneeded tampon. The milfy Ms. Branco sits and sips her doctored drink and you relax, confident that things will go much more smoothly from this point on.

"So, what are you majoring in then?" she asks.

You've been majoring in pussy since you made your discovery, but it isn't time to tell her that yet.

"Neurochemistry," you tell her. "I've always been fascinated by how the brain works, especially the higher brain functions like volition, attitude and belief structures."

"Oh my! That sounds very complicated!" she says, drinking her medicine like a good girl. If she notices the slight added sweetness and tingle, she doesn't seem to mind it. She won't be minding much of anything soon.

"Yes, it is pretty complicated," you say, wanting to keep talking so that she can keep drinking. "There's all kinds of different neurons and transmitters in the brain. But my hypothesis is that there should be a central master key that controls it all. It you could turn that key, it might open the mind up and put it into a sort of learning mode."

"Learning mode?" she asks, her juice have gone. "What do you mean?"

"Finish your juice and I'll tell you," you say, deciding she's ready for a test.

She makes an odd face, but drains her drink in one go, then looks at you expectantly.

"Basically, if you were to develop a chemical that could turn that key, you could open the mind up so that it would loose all resistance to accepting new information," you explain. "A brain in such a condition would become very, very susceptible to suggestions. Free will would basically be given a short vacation."

"Is he telling you about his science?" Mary asks, returning to the room. "Isn't he brilliant, Mother?"

"Yes...yes....he's brilliant..." Mary's mother says, her voice slowly loosing it's inflection. "But...but wouldn't it be...dangerous? Altering someone's brain like that?"

"You don't need to worry about that, Ms. Branco," you tell her. "You don't need to worry your pretty head about it."

"Don't need to worry my pretty head about it," Mary repeats in her entranced monotone.

"Don't need to...worry my....pretty head about it?" her mother says, confused but with crumbling resistance.

You get up from your seat and sit next to her on the love seat. You rest your hand on her knee. She looks at it but does not object.

"That's right, now," you say. "Everything is just fine. There's nothing to worry about."

"Everything is just fine," she repeats. "There's nothing to worry about."

You grin. Everything is just fine indeed.