Wonders of Gaslighting
By Valley Vixin
When I came into my power, I was
promised godhood, then told I was garbage. My name, well, my deadname is just
that. Dead. I am Gaslighter. You don’t have to fear me. If you don’t cross
me, I will never harm you, so do not fear me. If you do cross me, don’t bother
fearing me. If you try, I will just make you stop.
I was a loser. A punk kid who was too poor to be able to afford to go to the
school my scholarships promised me I could. You see, if you win the full ride
scholarships, they pay for everything and you can go even if you have nothing.
If you win the next tier, any kid with support can go even to the ivy leagues
and follow his dream. A kid with no support, not an orphan, not a street kid,
but a kid whose mother was barely getting by herself, well, just covering
tuition won’t be enough to get me the brass ring.
I was working minimum wage unloading on the docks when Maxwell Lord found me.
His telepathy felt my mind, found its glow, and he promised me the world.
Promised me I could be a god among me like him. He made Superman his bitch,
made him his little puppet. I was learning to do the same thing too, when she
came. He put a lock on my powers during training, teaching me how to master the
subtlest hardest to detect powers first, because to be noticed is to be
targeted. When I was ready, he would unlock my greater powers, and I would be
his right hand, a demigod to his god. Then she ruined it.
Wonder Woman. She killed Maxwell Lord. Sure, he had Superman under his thumb,
used him like an indestructible guided missile to kill whoever he wanted. He
preached to me about subtle and quiet, then used Superman like a big shiny main
battle tank with trumpets. Wonder Woman came to stop him, and my mentor, my
master, my teacher went and told Wonder Woman that the only way to stop him was
to kill him. So she did.
I felt him die. I felt the psychic drain he had put on me collapse, and the
feedback nearly killed me. I had become a hundred times stronger under his
training, but he had siphoned that power away from me, locking my own powers 90%
away, while teaching me to use the other ten percent so gently another telepath
could be in the room and not feel the ghost of my touch.
When he died, the lock didn’t. The key did. I had the power to be his equal,
but now because of Wonder Woman, I would never be more than a cripple. I had
the power of a god, ninety percent neutered.
I was meant to reach out and take control of minds, to reach out my mental fist
and take the mind of the godlike beings of the Justice League or the villains
that opposed them, and simply reshape their reality so they saw, heard, tasted,
felt, and thought only what I chose.
Instead, all I could do was read their surface thoughts, their emotions, and
make a single suggestion. Just one. I was a gaslighter, not a mind flayer. I
would make the single most effective personal life coach, as once per session I
could give you a single thought, way down deep in your core so deep that you
knew unquestioningly that it was yours.
I used my powers for good, not because I
was good, but because I knew I could never survive if I got targeted by anyone
with real power. I had a suggestion, not a command. I was worse than a loser,
I was a neutered god; neutered by that damned Amazon and by Maxwell Lord.
Well, Max was dead, and maybe he was going to keep his word and take off the
locks, but because the Defender of All Women decided old Maxi needed to get
thrown away like a used maxi pad, I was nothing more than this, not a god. A
gaslighter.
Then I got into a little trouble at
work, and life changed.
Mat and Suki were coworkers of mine. Mat was a big hulking bruiser, if I
tipped the scales at an even 240lbs, Mat was over 300, and worked as a leg
breaker when he wasn’t moving freight with me. Suki was one of the shift
clerks at the dock, and cute as a button. Mat decided Suki had a thing for
him. Suki decided she only wanted to date her own species, and Mat was
disqualified. He didn’t take it well.
I heard Suki scream and came at the run. Mat had her by the throat, and had
hammered a punch into her stomach to shut her up before reaching down to tear
open her blouse. He was screaming that she didn’t get to say no, he was going
to teach her what a real man was.
“Let her go Mat, don’t make me stop
you.” I roared as I came in, which was funny because Maxwell Lord was really
big about never teaching me fighting skills, because I was supposed to be an
agent of influence not a blunt instrument. We had slaves for that. Well I
don’t and Mat is a very big blunt instrument.
Mat turned and grinned.
“You know punk, this works out just about right. I get two bitches to play
with. I was worried I wanted to slap the shit out of this bitch before I
fucked her. I was worried there wouldn’t be enough left to be pretty enough to
bother fucking. Now I can just take my mad out on you, and when you run out of
bones, I will go use my bone on pretty little Suki.”
I could feel his emotions. He was going to kill me, then rape and kill her.
This was the docks, people go missing. He had helped a few people go missing
for jobs, so losing a few more for kicks wouldn’t bother him. In fact, it
excited him.
I was going to die, and worse, I was going to fail. That bitch Wonder Woman
left me neutered. Left me a mental eunuch in a world filled with monsters. It
isn’t like she was coming to protect me or Suki, she just took my power without
even noticing and left me to die here cut off from my own power.
I snapped. I lashed out with my power.
“You couldn’t hit me if you tried.” I told Mat. I let my power lance through
that messed up hate filled animal thing he called a brain and left this one
truth, this one absolute unquestioning belief. He could not hit me.
Mat looked scared, but he was too stupid to handle scared, so he came in
swinging. I looked him right in the eye and didn’t bother dodging or
blocking. He was faster, stronger, trained, and hugely experienced. I was,
not.
His fist passed so close to me he wiped the sweat from my chin. Then his kick
was so close to my knee I felt his laces slap my jeans. He swung wild
roundhouses, swift jabs, front kicks, side kicks, back fists, then he charged
in to give me a bear hug and rang his hip on the dispatch table and smashed his
face open on the floor as his hands scissored on air, now where near me.
I hadn’t moved. His body simply refused to target where I was. He was a
skilled fighter and hit what he aimed at, but he could not hit me.
I smiled. The rush of power filled me. Not my mental powers, those felt like
I had just strained their limit and needed to recover, but for the first time I
realized how powerful a single suggestion could be. No, the feeling of being
powerful, I had forgotten I had ever felt that way. Now it was back.
“Oh Mat, you know you can’t hit me with a hand grenade in a port o potty, let
alone a punch. Don’t you think it would be a really good idea to get gone
before Suki calls the police to arrest your raping ass, or I got angry enough
to think about working you over, then leaving you under one of the cranes to
have a tragic industrial accident?”
I know he did that to one of the guys who snitched to the police about his
smuggling, so he knew how easily it could be done. I wasn’t using my power,
but since his violence failed him against me, he was more easily spooked than a
pigeon.
He ran. I was building a headache, but
the flow of my power was beginning to return. I wasn’t useless! Suki had
stopped crying, and called the police. I was still trying to figure out if my
powers were useless or not. I mean, one suggestion at a time, needing several
minutes to recover between didn’t seem like enough to win a fight, but I just
did.
“Oh my god, you were so amazing. Mat tried to hit you a hundred times, punching,
kicking, grabbing, and he couldn’t touch you. It is like you were magic! Are
you some sort of hero?” Suki asked.
The panic kicked in. Maxwell Lord’s conditioning. I wasn’t a hero. Heroes
were prey. I wasn’t to be noticed. If I got noticed, I would die. I was a
secret. I was hidden. I was the weapon no one saw coming.
Without thinking, I followed Maxwell’s training, and my power lanced out again.
“He threw one punch, then ran.” I told Suki, putting my all into it. Then my
nose started to bleed. I pushed too hard, twice in a few minutes was too much.
“Oh my god, when he threw that punch he DID hit you!” Suki exclaimed, already
rewriting her own memory. When the police and ambulance came, I needed the
icepack and the gauze for my nose bleed.
I could make only one suggestion per session.
One suggestion that became unquestionable fact, that became truth, natural law,
one that the target could not resist, or even know they should.
I felt my cock start to harden. Wonder Woman neutered me. I had been repeating
that phrase to myself every heartbeat since Maxwell Lord died, and with him the
release of my true powers. I felt my cock grow hard as a bar of iron, my balls
twitching in primal hunger.
Wonder Woman neutered me? I think not. I can’t shatter minds, I can’t enslave
armies. I am, at most, a gaslighter.
No. I AM Gaslighter.
Wonder Woman, what you took from me, you can never give back. But don’t
worry. I will find some way for you to make it up to me.
2.
Trust is Wonderful
Having decided to take my place as
Gaslighter, avenger and heir to (or victim of?) Maxwell Lord, and gain my
revenge on Wonder Woman, I began by reactivating my old data network. Maxwell
Lord had tentacles in every source of power known to man, and a few as yet undiscovered.
It had been my job to do the grunt work about keeping his network happy and
running, to soft filter the intel for things that were potentially useful. His
network is thought of as being something created by his powers of mental
control, but that is idiotic. Maxwell never lowered himself to use his power
if he didn’t need to. He taught me to look for human weakness, and to use
them. Half his network had been suborned with his power, over half of what was
left broke contact because they feared reprisals. That left a quarter of his
network, made up of those with grudges of their own, who waited in place for
the chance something they knew would be useful for Maxwell Lord to hurt the
people they worked for, and hated.
I put them to work. There were enough people in government and press circuits
who played the good guys and just couldn’t wait to sell them out. People who
worshiped heroes like Wonder Woman for saving them, and hated those same heroes
for being strong and brave enough to do it when they themselves would not. I
used them to get a sense of Wonder Woman’s movements, for her patterns, for her
hunting patterns in particular.
Then there was the other half of the network. You know the thing about
organized crime? Bad guys don’t play nice. It may sound funny, but big strong
scary men get off on intimidating those around them. Those around them are
often not quite as big, not quite as strong scary men who really don’t like
being intimidated, abused, and mocked without being able to do anything about
it. They would never sell out to the cops, I mean, they are not snitches, but
sell their abusers out to a bigger badder predator who will see they never get
a chance to wonder who sold them out, why that they could do.
I found a local cause. Fentanyl overdoses. Heroin on the streets is as old as
industry in America, before that it was opium, so it has been on the streets in
America since before we called it America. It has been a big money earner for
organized crime since ancient Rome, and while addicts have been happily
destroying their lives for thousands of years, that wasn’t enough for some
people. They started cutting it with Fentanyl. Synthetic, stronger, cheap,
and oh yes, it killed people faster than war in the Middle East or even Viet
Nam during the bad bits. Honestly, it isn’t like heroin and coke weren’t
bringing in enough, and dangerous enough without turning to Fentanyl, but some
guys would rather kill their customers than test their batches. I had a
perfect reason to reach out to Wonder Woman, to have her in regular contact
with me, away from any of her kind that would notice subtle changes in her
behaviour, and around my kind who were ready and able to show Wonder Woman the
time of our lives when the changes reached the tipping point.
Plus, I dearly wanted those guys cleaned up. I mean, I was a villain, but they
were scum. Let her work her heroine needs out cleaning up the heroin trade.
I reached out to one of her old contacts
in the IADC that Maxwell had ID’d. Not a dirty one, a clean one. The whole
thing had to be clean. You don’t go after the woman that killed Maxwell Lord,
the woman that kicked the tar out of Superman long enough to free the Man of
Steel from being Maxwells little toy soldier and give her even a hint of a
reason to suspect you. I gave the location of a warehouse the dirty drugs were
being produced in, and ID’s of the mules with a note that someone with the
power to make them tell the truth could save potentially thousands of lives by
shutting down this network. I gave my own contact information. Why not? When
Wonder Woman killed old Max and accidentally neutered me, she had no idea who I
was. I adopted the pseudonym G, let her find out later what it meant!
Then I did the hardest thing I have ever done. I turned my power upon myself.
I pushed so hard I bled for half a day afterwards. “Do not even try to lie to
Wonder Woman.” Max got caught playing the two face game with her. She isn’t
like Superman, not just a powerhouse who always wins by being stronger. She is
like Batman without the bullshit. She was always paying attention. She was
good at reading people, and she felt all men were scum. She was right ninety
percent of the time, and gracious when she was wrong. If you want to catch
her, you can only do it from the front, while she is watching, without even
trying to hide.
My info checked out, my contacts reported that she was having me checked out.
Well, I was clean as her star spangled spankies. She neutered me before I had
a chance to spread my wings in evil. I sat in the park, watching the entrances,
trying not to sweat. I failed utterly. Not only that, the first clue I had
was when a surprisingly large hand closed gently upon my shoulder. I froze.
“You are G?” She said softly, and I swear my balls nearly exploded. Her voice!
You know how in WWII and all the way through Viet Nam the enemy used sexy
voiced radio DJ to spread disinformation and try to break soldiers lonely
soldier’s morale? Well they were nothing compared to Wonder Woman just trying
to be causal.
“Yes!” I squeaked, I began to ask “Are you Wond…” I trailed off as I turned
and her physical presence hit me like Maxwell Lord’s power when he used to seize
control of my own in training. It wasn’t anything she did, she was just,
more. Strong, gods yes. Beautiful, beyond the ability of photos or even video
to capture. Graceful? Well ballet teachers would cut off their own feet in
shame if they saw her move up close. The body, oh man, you would think that
fact she could punch out Superman and she killed my own master would make it
impossible for me to have any reaction beyond fear, but there is a reason she
is called Wonder Woman, because once you have seen her, there can never be
another woman for you.
“You have some information for me? Information that if true, could save many
lives.” She said casually, tossing her hair so one errant lock of it would
fall back over her alabaster shoulder.
“You will want to do this under the lasso. Just so you understand, I used to
manage the informant networks for Maxwell Lord, and you need to be sure what I
am telling you is straight truth.” I said, holding a hand out to her.
She looped one loop of the lariat around my wrist, and I felt something, not
like my power, not like Max’s power. I guess that is the magic he always
bitched about. I don’t know how it works, but I could feel it setting up
tendrils of something in my brain. If I tried to deceive her, she would know,
and I would fail. They were less invasive, more subtle, less damaging that my
own commands. I guess fifty years experience, being a goddess, or just the fact
that it was magic made it smoother, but what was important is that it was less
rigid than my own self imposed limits, and would never be able to find me
attempting to lie.
“Why are you doing this?” She asked, her eyes boring into me.
“Fentanyl is murder. These people are killing kids for chump change. They are
scum, they need to be stopped, but the law can’t catch them. The only way to
shut these networks down is for the people who act as cut outs between the
disposable street scum and the big money men confess to what they did, who they
did it for, and show you where to find the truth. Who else but you could do
that without torture, who else but you could survive trying?” I felt her power
singing through me, looking into me, and I saw her eyes widen, her gasp of
surprise. Oh my fucking lord, those boobs! She could see the truth. Why not,
I wasn’t lying. I meant every word. I hope she takes them apart and it hurts
the entire time.
“Do you mean me any harm?” She asked.
“I would rather die than see you hurt. I would kill anyone I thought might
have a chance to actually injure you. You are important to me.” Fucking HELL.
Where is the off button on that lariat? Okay so maybe my obsession about her
was a little unbalanced, and while it is awesome that I am convincing her that
I am not plotting her death, it sounded like the sort of cringy love confession
a pimple faced sixteen year old makes to his first love. I may, just may, have
fixated on her a bit more than I admitted.
She smiled, and went to remove the
lariat. Generations of men, and no few women, had laid their hearts at her
feet to be trampled and ignored. She was used to it, and gracious about it.
“Don’t be embarrassed G. The lariat can lead to oversharing. Let me free
you.” She said graciously, but I gathered my power and struck before she could
release me.
“You can always trust what I say, Wonder Woman.” I put all my power in it, and
being under the lasso only made it stronger, as the web of her power meant none
of mine went anywhere but right up that beautiful conductor and into every part
of her mind tuned to listen for every scrap of potential information. Every
center of the brain concerned with memory, judgement, threat assessment all
drank in that suggestion like parched earth drinks summer rain. From this
point on, she would be unable to even think I would deceive her. I had said
only truth, that I wouldn’t lie to her. We have a thousand years of fairy
tales talking about the dangers of fairy creatures who speak only truth and
deceive and destroy foolish mortals. This time, the fool was a GODDESS.
She smiled, unwrapping the lasso from my hand, and stroking my face casually.
“Yes, I can trust you.”
She walked away with a confident stride. My god, that ass. I was staring
after her when she turned and caught me.
“Mr G, we will be seeing a lot more of each other if this works out.” She
said, smirking at catching me checking out her ass.
I blushed. If she had any idea how much more I would be seeing of her, she
probably would have killed me then. I wasn’t Max. I couldn’t reach out and
strip her will away. I had to unweave her will like I was unweaving her star
spangled hot pants. That is fine. Thread by thread, if it took a week, a
month, a year. I would strip that ass bare, then I would own it.
Chapter 3 Wonderful Show and Tell
Gaslighter was my new name, though to Wonder Woman, to the street, and to law enforcement intelligence agencies I was known only as G. To Wonder Woman and law enforcement, I was an intelligence asset that risked life and limb to ferret out the worst of the crimes they could never hope to reach. To the street, I was G, the man to know, the untouchable one, the only major player too tough to muscle in on, but not hungry enough to push for more. What is funny is that having been stuck like this, a master telepath reduced to being able to make one suggestion to one target, at best every five minutes, I had become more dangerous than Maxwell Lord, my one time master, was when Wonder Woman killed him and left me stuck under this damned training lock old Maxi left me with.
You see, Max could afford to be big, to take Superman and make him his bitch right out in the open. Make him his club to beat the world with. I had to think smaller. I couldn't reach out and crush anyone. I had to build inside the people I deal with a new reality, one block at a time. The thing is, when I do it, it is buried down so deep no one can question it. They KNOW it is true, so true if anything conflicts with it, they reject it. The more people I make the same suggestion to, the more they start to fill in the blanks to make it make sense. By the time I started to spread the word about me being a serious player in the shadows, organizations I didn't know anything about already knew about me, and reached out to make sure we were cool. More people believed the legend I created than I ever touched. By now, everyone accepted it had always been so.
I took over a peeler bar from Fast Eddie Coltraine. I threw him under a bus called Wonder Woman for dealing fentanyl that was stacking bodies of dead addicts deep enough people couldn't overlook it anymore. When he got nabbed, I suggested to the bank that they needed to offload his assets before Wonder Woman set the IRS hounds on them, and they agreed. The club was now called Wonderland, and it was the biggest, boldest honey trap you have ever seen. So big a trap, Wonder Woman herself had no idea that the whole three floor building existed only to trap her.
You don't make a proud, smart, strong, and freaking magical woman like Wonder Woman your bitch in a day, and you don't do it by force. She turned Maxwell Lords head all the way around when he defied her, so since I was his apprentice, powers under lock and key until my training was done when she killed him, I would never on my best day be as strong as he was when she killed him. I would not defy her. I would DEFILE her. Debase her, corrupt her, and she would thank me for it every step of the way. She had no idea killing Max neutered me, but guess what Wonder Whore? You have no idea you neutered me, so you can lick my balls to kiss it better.
The cops and street heroes are great at catching the disposable trash of organized crime, but there are so many cut outs, you will never get to the big labs that produce the stuff, the big name investment firms that launder the money. You can at best cut off disposable branches without ever touching the money tree. I ran Maxwell Lords intelligence network, and I knew where to start. Within weeks, everyone knew they always knew me, always trusted me, and knew for a fact they never told me anything that could incriminate them.
I fed Wonder Woman the good shit. I helped her close down entire networks, bag the big boys, grab the money. She just about levitated off the ground when I told her how many lives she saved. Sure, she didn't ask, and I didn't mention that the good heroin was now on the street under my control, and my shit was clean. I wasn't greedy, I didn't want a fast buck, I wanted an undetected buck. I didn't want to own the market, I wanted to own the part of the market no one hated enough to go after. I got in with the safe injection people, got involved with the treatment programs. Dead addicts are bad for business.
Wonder Woman knew I was the reason she was cleaning up the killing drugs, and had no idea she was the hammer taking out my enemies, and building my rep.
She hated coming to visit me as Wonderland. She was the Defender of All Women, Champion of Virtue, and she was in costume meeting me in Wonderland a strip club she suspected was named after her.
She came in, a goddess that made our strippers look like potato sacks. She was sexier when she moved normally than my girls doing a full spready, but at the same time her eyes were like gunsights, like the eyes of an eagle in full dive. She was a living weapon and to be the focus of her gaze made your balls crawl up under your belly button trying to hide. She made my cock harden just walking in.
"Do we really have to meet here? I feel sullied just walking in here. The gaze of these men make me need to shower." Wonder Woman asked as she came to my table at the back of Wonderland, sitting beside me in full view of everyone. She never suspected that the reason the never wondered how I dared play informant with her in uniform in the middle of my own club was because I suggested it wasn't worth thinking about.
"Absolutely essential." I told her. After all, how could I make her my Wonder Whore if she didn't come to my club to get trained? "I am known here as a safe man to come to. In my club, the girls are safe. There are no drugs, There are no street pimps putting pressure on my girls to work for them. They make good money here, and nobody lays a finger on them. This gets me the kind of girls you can't get at the clubs run by street thugs. The kind of people who come here are the ones away from the street. The ones who know things the police would die to know, and which the bosses would kill before anyone got into an interrogation room. They come here, and my girts make them feel safe, make them feel good, make them feel talkative. Then my girls, they talk to me, and I talk to you." I used my power on myself before I began this game, I could not lie to Wonder Woman. She could use the lasso on me and hear the exact same answer to the questions I guided her into asking. Not my fault they aren't what she should have asked.
"Really G, you don't think it beneath me to be seen in a place like this?" Wonder Woman asked, looking like she would have blushed if she were weaker.
I pointed to my bait. It took me three weeks to set up, three weeks and a few nosebleeds and migraines as I pushed my power more often than I should. It isn't enough to plant suggestions. You have to anchor them on something. Show them something then suggest what the learn and they will never question you. Show and Tell.
I pointed to a woman in an expensive business suit. A conservative looking woman, she made more in a year than my whole damned club cost, land included. She was sitting at a table with a dozen men, all her subordinates. At my signal, she got up on stage and began to strip. Her face was, if anything, more arrogant as she stripped then it was in the boardroom. Her juniors looked at her stripping for them not like wolves ready to pounce upon a rabbit, but like worshipers at a shrine. Don't think that didn't take a lot of work to set up. Not a single person was in here that I hadn't already programed to react properly. This was a wonderful game of show and tell, for my Wonder Woman.
"You see that dame there? She is the senior VP in charge of currency trading over at Goldblum Winters and Yatz. Those boys she is stripping for are her team, her traders. Look at her. She knows she is getting seven figures base and more in bonuses because of their work. They make her look good, and they bust their balls doing it. She is their boss, she holds all the power in their relationship, kind of like you and me. That woman? She could make or break their careers with a single text. That gives her the power to be sexy for them. See, a weak woman, she would have to play ice maiden, have to play good girl, or she would worry they would stop respecting her."
I could feel the pressure building in my temples as I pushed the suggestion into her. The woman was still in heels, thigh highs, bun and glasses, but now she was table dancing for each of her subordinates, riding their crotches, squeezing their faces between her tits, spanking her own ass in front of their adoring faces.
"She is strong enough to be sexy in front of them. Strong enough to reward them for helping her look good by being sexy for them. Only strong women dare to be sexy for men." I let my power go. The suggestion was planted, she saw how the woman finished her last song, and sat on the table, spread her legs and spread her labia right in front of some poor overweight balding bastard who looked like he was about to pop an artery and die, then gestured imperiously for him to go fetch her a drink.
He fell on the way to the bar, crawled the rest of the way and ordered her a drink. By the time he got back, the executive being dressing and let the sweating man hold her drink as her subordinates now competed to help her dress.
Wonder Woman looked thoughtful, looking at the female executive, then looking back at me.
"I could never do that." She said.
I took her lasso and wrapped it around my own wrist, binding myself to tell her only the truth.
"You are a thousand times stronger than her, and a thousand times sexier. If she can do it, you can do it. This club is a safe space for women. No man will touch them unless they ask. But I have some more important information to give you. In looking into the fentanyl ring, I came across some female traffickers who were using the same smuggling and distribution ring, did you want me to look into it for you? It shouldn't be too risky for me."
Every word I said was truth. After all, there would be no risk to me. Plus, those girls were working for the kind of pimps who left bodies in allies, who brought the cops down on everyone. I didn't need that crap in my city. Besides, you didn't need to kidnap women to find hookers, and you got a lot more money from healthy, happy, skilled hookers than broken drug addicted diseased kids. Honestly, scum these days give bad guys a bad name. I wouldn't regret setting my little Wonder Bitch on them, they deserved what they got. Like I deserved what I was going to get.
We talked for half an hour, I was very clear about what I knew, what I suspected, and what I figured I could get safely. Not knowing I cheated, she was way to impressed with how brave I was. Every five minutes when I felt my power had restored I would slip another suggestion into the conversation.
Wonder Woman caught a guy walking past my booth to the bathroom looking down her cleavage so hard he walked into a pillar and complained "I hate it when little perverts like that look at my tits and ass." She said.
I hit before she could finish the thought. "But you love me looking at your tits and ass." I put a lot behind it. She gave no resistance at all. She was already convincing herself what a hero I was, and how bad she felt about not doing anything for me, so my suggestion just shaped what she was already thinking. Anchored it. Directed it.
She blushed. "Yes G, I do like it when it's you."
I got back on topic before she had a chance to think about that, got her all filled with fire about saving those poor smuggled girls from a fate worse than death, then when she got up to leave, I rushed the timing on my next suggestion enough that I would proably collapse for the next half a day.
I reached out and slapped her ass in front of the whole club. As I had primed them all to, they all cheered and wolf whistled, the girls even clapped.
As she turned to punch me through the back wall, I hit her with my last suggestion.
"You really love when I do that to you here in the club."
She stopped, looking stunned as the suggestion slid home, the final brick in a construct I had been labouring all night to complete, and all month to set up. While she was confused and not sure what to do, I struck with my words, not my power.
"Go now Wonder Woman. I can only find those girls; it takes a Superheroine like you to save them!"
I shit you not, she reached out and
stroked my cheek as she turned to run out. She glanced back to see me watching
her ass when she ran, and smiled at me.
Show and Tell was over, my little honey was getting comfortable in the trap.
I am Gaslighter. I am not Maxwell Lord. I will never be the super villain I was supposed to be, but I will be the one to make Wonder Woman my bitch.
Chapter 4 Wonderland Birthday Present
Diana (Wonder Woman) POV
Diana didn’t know what it was. She had hated coming to Wonderland before. She
had an informant named G who admitted to once having served Maxwell Lord. Even
the Justice League had been fooled by that rogue telepath into thinking he was
a good guy, so Diana tried not to hold it against him, any more than G held it
against her that she killed Maxwell Lord. G had given her insight into what
was going on in organized crime. She had been able to save thousands of lives
by getting fentanyl off the streets, cutting the cities overdose deaths from
something that looked like a bad day in the war Afghanistan or Iraq, to a
statistical oddity. Then he began to help her root out the human traffickers,
the child pornographers. With his information she reached places and stopped
evils that the Justice League and even Batman couldn’t. He somehow did it
without violence. He did it simply through his club Wonderland.
She should have hated going there. It was a strip club. A club where women
took off their clothes for money. A club that objectified women, in which
women visibly enjoyed being objectified and degraded for the pleasure of men.
Yet, every day she could not wait to come back here and tell G the wonderful
things she had done with his information, to get his approval, to please him.
Oh god how she wanted to please him. He took no reward. He took no fame, he
had made her promise not to tell anyone of his aid. Yet she saw both police
and high profile criminals come into this club, all eager to earn G’s favour,
not one of them ever mentioning that they had seen her there. Seen Wonder
Woman sitting with G in his private booth.
Diana grew wet, her breath coming faster. They didn’t mention the other thing.
G explained it as the sort of thing that football players, and baseball players
did to congratulate team mates on their success. Indeed he pointed to the TV
running between the dancing stages to show men slapping each other on the ass
as they rounded the bases after a home run, or made a good catch or tackle.
The first time he had smacked her on the ass she turned ready to break his arm,
until he reminded her that she loved it when he spanked her.
Now, every time she stopped a super villain,
or freed some exploited underage sex workers from slavers, she rushed to the
club to get him to give her that spank of approval.
Soon it became a game. He would tease her, fake a swing a few times until she
stuck out her star spangled bum and begged him to spank her. It drew a crowd,
all the men of the club would gather around to see her beg to get spanked by
G. She would have never guessed this wouldn’t bother her, but G reminded her
that she loved when men watched her please him. That helped make it clear in
her mind. The next time he reminded her how turned on she got by pleasing
him. Honestly, he didn’t really have to remind her, she knew that one already,
but once he said it, she could admit it. It was a week later that he finally
gave in and began to give her a spank per girl she rescued, a spank per bad guy
she captured. That was when the trouble started.
G reminded her how much being spanked by men turned her on. Now, it was all
she could do to finish her business and get out of sight to drop her fingers
down her star spangled bootie shorts to frig her Amazonian goddess gift until
she came so hard she had to fly home because she couldn’t walk. It had been
days since she was able to go farther than the next roof over before dropping
her panties and diving fingers into herself, even tearing her top off to suck
on her own nipples thinking about being spanked by G in front of all those cops,
criminals, and business leaders. It was okay. Everything about wonderland was
safe. G reminded her of that. G was always good at reminding her of things
she had always known were true but sometimes forgotten.
G had sent her a message, he was skipping out a birthday party set for him by
the Chamber of Commerce because he had some hot information about a new plan by
Cyborgirl to take delivery of a shipment of trafficked girls, some of Maxwell
Lord’s mind control and conditioning hardware and programs, and her own cyber
enhancement knowledge stolen from Star Labs to make a little mind controlled
kill squad of enhanced and enslaved girls. Diana had to stop Cyborgirl from
getting her hands on those girls and she had to make sure that mind controlled
tech never reached her hands, or Wonder Woman would have the blood of countless
innocents on her hands as Cyborgirl continued her pointless vendetta through
mind controlled pawns. She would do anything for that information.
Gaslighter POV
Happy Birthday to me. Happy Birthday to me. Happy Birthday dear Gaslighter
now Wonder Whore will be! I laughed as I sang to myself. Today was the day.
The day I got my revenge. Well, the first, most delicious taste of it. Today
was the day that Wonder Woman, the Defender of All Women, the living goddess,
begged to whore for me. She didn’t know it yet, but I did.
I had been Maxwell Lord’s apprentice. To become his apprentice, I accepted his
training seal upon my powers. Sure it later turned out he was siphoning off
most of it for himself, but since I was getting trained by him in return, I
can’t really complain. I don’t know for sure if he ever would have released me
as promised, nor if there weren’t some other little compulsions he buried in
there. I choose to accept my mentor’s benevolence, since when Wonder Woman
snapped his neck like a Thanksgiving turkey, my hope of having the lock on my
powers removed died. She emasculated me. She gelded my godlike potential.
She broke me and didn’t even notice.
Now all I could do was make one suggestion every ten minutes. Five if I pushed
it and didn’t worry about possible nose bleeds and potential brain bleeds, but
ten was safest. Ah but Maxwell’s training wasn’t a joke. He took my power
away so I would learn to be subtle. Where his power, and what should have been
mine, could reach out and make Superman my puppet, all I could do was make a
single suggestion. His attacks were like a taser to the brain, disrupting it,
shattering all coherent thought and forcing your own to replace it. It was
brute force, it was noticeable. Hell, it was so obvious the muscle heads of
the League spotted it and they usually needed someone to send up the Bat signal
or nuke the Daily Planet. Maxwell Lord was a two handed sledge hammer to the
skull, I was the finest thin needle inserted into the very deepest part of the
brain, injecting one little suggestion so deep inside that whoever I implanted
it in would accept it unquestioningly.
Not much right? I wasn’t a mind devouring titan, I wasn’t going to stand in
the middle of the city and scream “Kneel before me!” and expect anything but
arrest under the mental health act. No, I was just a gaslighter. Just a maker
of nasty little suggestions that got down deep inside you and got accepted as
unquestioning truth. Given time and exposure, I could layer them on top of
each other.
The funny thing about strong intelligent people is that they will find a way to
make it make sense. They will make the connections between the accepted truths
(that I supplied) and use it to restructure their own beliefs to remove any inconsistencies.
Layer enough of them, and the mind will begin to extrapolate. After all, a
truly intelligent person will not simply accept a thing is true without
extending what they know and trust absolutely to derive what should naturally
follow. They reprogram themselves after a while. When I suggest how something
makes them feel good, or makes them feel safe, makes them feel scared, makes
them feel excited, their own brains start to supply the stimulus to reward
their behaviour changes. The strong ones have the willpower to push the
farthest, after all, they know its right, they will follow it to the end.
Heroes are the strongest of all, and Wonder Woman is the strongest even among
them.
Victor Treblinka was in the club, with a dozen of his hardcases. He ran the
smuggling on the docks. He worked for every outfit that needed something moved
on the quiet through the docks. Not one of the supervillains or major crime
lords wanted to go up against him, because he was the only one to keep their
goods moving beneath the notice of the superheroes and government spooks. He was
a little pissed that two of his brothers were doing federal time right now, as
Wonder Woman had taken one down for running dirty drugs, and fed the second to
Batman for the Gotham end of the pipeline. He was willing to pay any price to
get a bit of his own back on Wonder Woman. I set a price. He didn’t believe
me, but he brought the bonds and securities just in case.
Happy Birthday to me, time for my present to unwrap itself. The door just
buzzed me. Wonder Woman was here. The Star of Wonderland was about to go on
the main stage.
She came into the club, and it had
changed. As I layered the suggestions in her brain, I changed the club bit by
bit, to adjust her new normal. Where once she passed a proud senior executive
woman stripping on stage, lording it over her minions like a queen teasing her
toys, now that same woman was finishing a lap dance by getting her nipples
gnawed on by her flunkies, her tushy spanked red and tight holes fingered as
they stuffed small bills in her garters. Where once she passed policewomen and
police men chatting idly at the tables watching the sports screens between the
stages, now she saw police women in uniform being brought into the club and
then going up on stage to strip for the male cops and half the same perps they
booked during the last shift.
She “KNEW” Wonderland was a safe place for women to express their true needs,
where a strong woman was free to show her soft side. After months of
suggestions I had trained these worthy women, everyone from DA’s to detectives,
CEO’s to Grammy nominee singers that what they really wanted more than anything
was to please men on the stage, and if they were lucky, for special dances in
the back room, usually performed on their knees or back. Wonder Woman passed
all of this with a smile, and smiled fondly when men would spank her ass as she
passed, each time looking at me to see my approval.
She blushed like a virgin in a whorehouse, which was oddly appropriate, for the
moment. She was excited, almost bouncing as she came over.
“I am so sorry that you had to miss your birthday party for this G, I know
helping me has cost you so much. I just wish there was something I could do
for you. Anything I could do for you to make it right.” Wonder Woman was
regal, even now. A Queen among the commoners, a goddess among mortals,
lowering her purity to be sullied by my hand as I took her hands in mine and
wrapped her lasso of truth around my own hands.
“Having you here today is worth more to me than a thousand honours from the
Chamber of Commerce, the Governor, or even the President. I know where we can
get the information to stop Cyborgirl from hurting all those girls, and
endangering your life, but the man who can help want’s something I can’t give
him. Something only you can give him.”
I unwrapped the lasso from my arm, which is what I always did when I was done
giving her the information she used to save people. Everything I said to that
point was true. You can’t lie to the lasso, so I used my power on myself to
make sure I never tried. I can’t lie to Wonder Woman at all. That is what
makes the game a fair fight. It will be my mind against hers. I will own her,
mind, body, and soul, where my dear departed master, Maxwell Lord, could not.
I looked away. “I am sorry. If I wasn’t too embarrassed to ask, then you
could get the information from him tonight. I mean, I couldn’t ask any of my
girls to do it, because they might get hurt. You are bullet proof, heck, you
punched out Superman. You wouldn’t be hurt at all, but it is too much to ask
you to do just to save a few dozen girls you never met.” I turned to her and
told her, “If I had a girl that was invulnerable as you, then I could get the
information you need right now to save those girls.” Not a lie. Victor wanted
Wonder Woman, if I gave him Wonder Woman on the main stage, I was getting five
million cash, and both of us were getting our revenge. Wonder Woman would also
get the information to save a bunch of girls and stop a cyborg with serious
anger issues, because some stuff gives a bad name to crime, but that was more like
the icing than the actual cake.
Wonder Woman was the cake.
She reached out a hand and touched my face gently. “What is it that you are
afraid to ask me?”
It was time to run down all the suggestions I had given her so far, to key them
in sequence so that the next one fit.
“You know you can trust me. You know that nothing that happens in Wonderland will
ever get out. You know that you love to please me. You know that you like to
excite men. You know how being spanked makes you excited. You know it takes a
strong woman to admit she wants to be sexy. You know you are the strongest
woman on earth.”
I smiled as she blushed, I mean right down to her breasts blushed. If that
chest armour of hers wasn’t strong enough to stop a .50 sniper round, I bet her
nipples would be sticking through it right now.
I grinned and offered her an aside. “You know today is my birthday, and I was
going to suggest giving you my birthday bumps.” I smacked her ass.
“Generally, it is the one having the birthday that gets the birthday bumps, but
we both know both of us get more excited when you are the one being spanked.
This would just be like you taking my birthday bumps for me, only in a way only
a strong woman could do, only a strong courageous woman who was willing to do
anything to save those poor innocent girls.”
Sure I was laying it on thick, and a few months ago, she wouldn’t have bought
it, but right now I could smell how turned on she was. She was practically
wiggling in the seat like a puppy trying to wag its tail.
“What do I need to do, G. I will do anything.” She asked me seriously.
I gestured to Victor, he and his goons came over.
“This is Victor. He knows where the girls and the tech is coming in, and he
can give you what you need to stop them both. Victor has some tastes which are
a little hard on mortal women. You see, he wants to give you the Birthday
Bumps, but he wants to do it will bull whips, and cattle prods. Now they would
hurt a normal woman, but they could no more hurt Wonder Woman than tickling
with a feather.” I said.
I could see her thinking about it, the idea of being whipped for men’s pleasure
was a natural outgrowth of her being turned on by being spanked by men. This
wasn’t even really for her, this was for those poor suffering girls!
“I will do it!”
Victor looked at her slowly up and down.
“If this is real Wonder Woman, how do I know she won’t snap me in half for
whipping her? I am paying you in good coin, and information that could get me
killed, I am not looking to get hurt for playing the good guy for once.”
Victor asked, his accent coming out under stress.
I assured him calmly. “Victor, if it will make you feel better, we can bind her
arms above her head with her own lasso. Even she can’t break that.”
I took her to the main stage and bound her hands to the steel ring that hung
down for some of the girls who liked to do silk rope arial work in their acts.
I whispered in her ear the truth.
“The knot is in your hands, if you want to be free at any time, just tug the
loop at your wrist and you will be free.” The trap wasn’t that she couldn’t be
free, the trap was that the lasso compelled the truth.
Victor looked at her again, panting like a racehorse at the starting gate, legs
trembling, face flushed, and he snered.
“How do I know she is real Wonder Woman. She looks more like Wonder Whore?”
Victor sneered.
I walked to the stage and stroked Wonder Woman’s face, looked deep into her
eyes and hit her with the strongest suggestion yet.
“If she is Wonder Woman, Defender of All Women, Princess of Themyscira,
mightiest of all the Amazons, then she will stand unbowed, proudly with hands
raised high, as you ply your whips and your cattle prods because she is the
Goddess of Truth. Then to her you will give the information to stop Cyborgirl
and save those smuggled girls. If she gets so turned on by being whipped and
shamed by the hands of men that she can’t help but touch herself, that she
can’t help but finger that hot little pussy, then I guess she is Wonder Whore
and will need to find some other way to please you and your men to EARN that
information and save those poor girls.”
I had to back away and sit down before I fell down. Putting that long a
suggestion into her head was pushing my limits. Luckily, in her currently
aroused state, she wasn’t thinking clearly enough to notice anything wrong.
Victor had a bull whip in his hand, as did two of his thugs, a few more had
cattle prods, cruel sparks flashed from the tips as they dragged them over metal
chair backs as they eyed her.
“So, miss Princess Wonder Woman Amazon slut. How old are you?” Victor asked
as he cracked the whip behind her a few times, smiling as she danced away from
it, even though they could have hosed her down with submachine guns and not
hurt her. A whip worked on something other than the flesh though, a whip
trained animals and slaves to obey.
“Over a hundred. I never really counted until I came to your world, before the
first of your World Wars. Why do you ask.” Wonder woman asked, confused.
With a crack, he brought the whip down across her star spangled ass and she
shrieked in shock.
“Because bitch, you get one ‘birthday bump’ per year. Now, don’t lose track or
we have to start again.”
They played with her, sometimes striking her ass, sometimes tits, sometimes
right on her virgin pussy, at least half the strikes were fake, cracking the
air before or behind her to make her jump. They loved watching the proud look
on her face dissolve into a mix of fear and lust as time and again she lost
track of the number, and had to start over.
When she was starting to lunge towards the whip to take strikes not on her
thigh but on her, visibly soaked star spangled spankies, Victor knew she was
getting too turned on to think. That is when the cattle prods came out. First
he jabbed one in her breast, right above the nipple, letting the gold and steel
of her armour arc it across both her breasts. She arched her back and screamed
“YES” at the top of her lungs.
Then Victor led her around, causing her to spin to face whichever man had the
prod as whoever was left would whip her ass to distract her.
Prod to the pussy, whip, whip, faked whip, faked whip, prod to the breast.
Whip, whip, whip, then a touch of the cattle prod to her pussy one last time
when Wonder Woman lunged out, arching her back, desperate to finally climax
with one more cruel shock, only to find Victor smirking and saying coldly.
“No. You want to cum Princess, go fuck yourself.” Victor laughed, throwing
the shut off cattle prod aside, as each of his men tossed down their prods and
whips, and each of them stroked their hardening cocks through their pants.
She had been edged for hours on the main stage, now there were a hundred men
looking at her, staring at her, chanting at her to fuck herself. Fuck
herself. Fuck herself.
She looked at me, I smiled and pushed that last little bit, to seal the deal. One
last touch of power to seal her fate. “If you would rather be a whore, go ahead,
fuck yourself.”
“I am Wonder Whore!” She screamed, as she tugged the knot, to free herself
from the Lasso of Truth that had already caused her to admit that she wanted in
that very moment, to be Wonder Whore, and satisfy the needs of her superhuman body,
more than she wanted to be the Princess of Power, the Defender of All Women,
Wonder Woman.
She pulled her star spangled pants down to her knees, and fell forward. Diving
her fingers down, raising her ass in the air, she frigged herself to a squirting
climax towards the cheering crowd.
Victor unzipped, and pulled out his cock. A dozen of his men did the same.
“Well Wonder Whore, how are you going to earn that information and save those
poor little girls now. Wonder Whores are only good for one thing, so how about
you earn your money for old G there?” Victor smirked.
This was it, this was my moment of victory. Wonder Woman, killer of Maxwell
Lord, destroyer of my future and power looked over at me for permission to
whore for me in front of my entire club. I nodded like a noble to a lowly bar
slut, because that was now our relationship.
Victor had his goons bind her hands behind her back with her lasso while they
stripped her top off, and removed her soaked little blue pants. They left her
tiara and boots, to remind everyone who they were using.
Victor grabbed her by the hair and began to face rape her. She made such faces
as he turned the most powerful woman on earth into his cock sleeve. You could
see is nine inches pushing the sides of her throat as she fought down her gag
reflex. He held her nostrils shut as he face raped her.
“She must be the real Wonder Woman, what a perfect whore, she doesn’t even need
to breathe at all when she sucks cock!”
She sucked cock too well, and soon he collapsed to the floor, and she was on
him like a striking snake, diving on his cock like it was her only hope of
salvation. Well, his minions were done pulling pud, because one of them lined
up on her pussy and drove her onto Victor’s cock by burying himself in her pussy.
“Holy shit boss, this is tighter than any woman alive. This is like the pussy
of the gods. Like the pussy all pussy was meant to be.” His minion stated as
Victor screamed, almost losing his soul as the Defender of All Women sucked every
last drop of his load out of his balls, and maybe half his soul with it. While
Victor crawled off to watch and recover, his men ran a train on the Princess of
Power.
The cattle prods came out again, and as she rode one of the goons, two more of
them gnawed on her nipples, sucking and biting hard enough to make her scream,
before shocking the soaked and conductive nipples to drive her into shattering
orgasms on the cock of the thug below.
Victor got his second wind and grabbed Wonder Woman by the hair, pushed her
face into the ground, and shoved his foot on her cheek. Pushing her into the
ground, he rasped out his promise.
“Alright Wonder Whore, I am going to fuck you up that Amazon ass, and if you
can make me cum up your bum, I will give you all the information you need to
save them little girls and stop that cyborg psycho. If you don’t make me cum
with that tight little ass, then I guess all those poor little innocents are
just going to die.”
Taking the cum that was dripping from her pussy, he fingered her tight little
asshole until it started to open. You can’t force a woman who could crush a
crowbar in her back door if she wanted, she had to want to be ass raped. She
had to want to whore out her Amazon ass in front of the whole club.
He pushed in, and her ass clamped on him like a velvet vice. He hammered her.
No gentleness, he pounded her ass with all the fury of a man forced to watch
his brothers go down for federal time because some do gooder was too tough to
kill, too smart to fool, and too righteous to bribe. She fucked his family
right up the ass, so now he was fucking her ass for revenge.
“Ah fuck, I can’t stand it. This is the best ass I ever had. You were made to
fuck. You really are a Wonder Whore!” Victor panted, he took the cattle prod,
and jammed it up her cunt, triggering a final bolt that caused her whole body
to convulse, and nearly tore his cock off. He came so hard, but so did she.
Like two dogs fucking, he was trapped in her ass, unable to pull out until she
stopped cumming.
She came, and came and came, crying out. “I am WONDER WHORE!”
Victor felt his poor cock spasming again and again, as if in its death throws,
unable to stop cumming as his balls threatened to implode pumping into her
ass. Finally, he withdrew.
It took two of his men to hold him upright, as he could not stand.
“Good whores clean up their mess. Are you a good whore?” Victor asked.
Wonder Woman, Princess of Themyscira cleaned her ass and his cum off Victor’s
cock.
He staggered back, picked up a thumb drive and went to his wallet and pulled
out five crisp 100$ bills.
“There is your information. You can play superheroine again. Save some girls,
make the press think you aren’t really just G’s latest whore, turning super
powered tricks for cash and information. Here is your tip. You can keep it,
or give it to your pimp.”
Wonder Woman pushed the thumb drive into her boot, then with eyes down, and
five one hundred dollar bills, crawled to my table.
She knelt, naked save for her tiara and boots, and offered the five hundred
dollars on upraised palms.
“Happy Birthday master.” She offered.
I stroked her hair. “Good Girl. Wonder Whore is my best girl.”
I folded my money and put it in my breast pocket. I felt fingers on my belt,
then my zipper. The woman that destroyed my life, the superheroine that killed
Maxwell Lord and freed Superman had just freed my cock, and was doing her best
to show me that she gave her pimp more pleasure than even her customers. Tomorrow,
and outside she would be Wonder Woman, and save the world. Here in Wonderland,
right now and forever, she would be Wonder Whore, and be the best girl any pimp
could have.
I am Gaslighter. This is my story.