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The Mind Control Conspiracy

Chapter 1: The Glasses

Sponsored by Asbeoth

By Draconicon

Everyone in his family had told Sean to go to college. It would be the best years of his life, they said. It would be the place he would make something of himself, they said. Well, they were half-right.

The fox sat in the front row of his classroom, rubbing his head as the headache that had been building for the last half-hour throbbed behind his eyes, beating in time to the lazy cadence of the wolf professor. The droning canine continued to drag on about the history of their society, how they had continued to build up after all had failed.

"All due to the wonderful foresight of our Founding Fathers, of course. Without the foundation of the Hierarchy and their guiding wisdom, we would be no better than the other countries that border us. Anarchic, misdirected, and chaotic, they look upon us with envy, and plot little more than our complete and utter destruction."

Sean rolled his eyes. It was a similar spiel to what he had heard in High School, and before that, in Junior High, any number of times. The teachers continued to go on and on about the Federation of States, how they had ruled the modern world for years, how every country wished that they were as good as their own. It was a snore-fest, as far as the fox was concerned, and if he had any way of protesting it without being expelled, he would have begged for Professor Halkin to move on to the next part of the curriculum.

Of course, the last time someone did that, they were expelled. One did not talk ill of the great Federation without there being some sort of consequences from above, after all.

So, he leaned on his hand, feeling the headache pounding behind his eyes as he looked around the room for any sort of distraction. He looked at the maps of the Federation on the wall, all of them nearly the same despite ostensibly coming from different eras of history. He glanced at the globe on the teacher's desk, at how it showed the Federation as almost continent sized, despite being no more than a third of a continent at best.

He looked the teacher right in the eye, wondering if the wolf was going to be going home to a man or a woman, wondering if Professor Halkin took it or dished it out.

Sean had many of those thoughts when he was bored. Considering that his main way of paying for college was acting as a rent boy on the streets of the college town, it was his only real field of expertise. There were times when he'd actually follow teachers home to see if his guess was right, and more often than not, he was.

He tapped his cheek with one finger as he looked into the professor's eyes, staring through the darkened lenses of the glasses the wolf wore, making a few guesses.

Tends to wear suits and ties when the rest of the professors prefer more relaxed wear; could mean that he's overcompensating for a perceived feeling of being less, or it might mean that he is too much of a top to lower himself, he thought. Then again, the tie is obviously done up by someone else, considering the way he fumbles at it. He doesn't know how to tie it himself, so someone else does it for him. Either a helpful partner or someone that is sending their little bitch off to work.

The professor turned, and Sean smiled. An opportunity for something much more interesting. As the wolf turned to the globe, rotating it with one hand, Sean looked to his left, then his right. With the droning going on, all the other students should have been nearly as sleepy as he was, perhaps with one or two outliers that were more interested in the subject than he was.

Such was not the case.

All around him, every student was staring straight ahead, each one marked with a curious expression, their eyes half-lidded but their bodies sitting up straight, their frames completely rigid while their heads and eyes were completely relaxed.

It was an odd contradiction in posture, and one that had fascinated him since he'd seen it on his first day.

Then Professor Halkin turned around again, and he went back to staring forward sleepily, half-imitating the others as the droning continued.

"The greatness of the Founding Fathers lay in what, class?" the professor asked.

"In setting up the Hierarchy and laying the foundation of our great country, which others seek to destroy," said the rest of the class, with Sean mouthing along as he went.

"Very good. Very good."

The wolf chuckled, then winced. He reached for his glasses, paused, then shook his head.

It was such a strange gesture that Sean almost wondered if he had imagined it. It was like the professor had been about to pull off his glasses, then stopped himself as if it was something that he wasn't supposed to do.

Fascinating.

Sean leaned against his hand again in half-faked exhaustion as the wolf looked at them again. He seemed to be examining them, debating some sort of action.

"Close your eyes, class."

Out of the corner of his eyes, Sean saw eyes closing on either side of him, and he quickly imitated them, closing his eyes to slits. Not closed, but slits, giving him the slightest bit of detail as he lolled his head back a little bit.

It was enough to see Professor Halkin taking off his glasses, putting them on the desk and then rubbing his eyes. The wolf groaned under his breath, shaking his head as he ground his fingers across his face, ending near his temples.

"They need to come up with a better design for that. It grinds right into the brain right now...But at least it works."

It works, hmm?

Sean hid a smile. One more bit of evidence. One more piece of information that he could squirrel away for later.

This was not the first time that the strange trance had struck his class, nor the second or third. Ever since he had come to college, he'd seen the strange, half-relaxed, half-tense postures throughout the student body. It was always there, though it seemed to grow more intense when a professor was around, and more intense still when the dean poked his head out of his office and started looking around the campus.

Of course, when the dean was out, the educators started acting like their students, showing a similar sort of look on their face as the one that dominated his classmates right then and there.

The more that Sean had seen, the more he noticed that it had been going on in other places, too. The fast-food places all around town seemed to take on a different significance when he saw the managers acting all bright-eyed while the workers were all slumped over like his classmates were, and the offices that he sometimes visited on courier duty for his father were no different.

Once people hit the age of 18, once they entered 'society,' something happened, something that he, strangely enough, had a curious immunity to.

Sean kept his eyes closed to slits until the professor put his glasses back on, calling for the class to open their eyes again. He leaned forward along with the rest, opening his eyes halfway, and the lecture continued.

#

Class came to a halt about twenty minutes later, and he was grateful to leave it behind. The other students started to come back to life when they left the room, and he was glad to put the act behind him.

The fox walked down the hall with his bookbag over his shoulder, flicking his eyes down the hall. He spotted a couple of clients that had hired him before, a horse jock on the college football team and the assistant librarian that had been involved in covering up some failing grades for the athlete. The librarian, a rather rotund frog, saw him first, and they waved at him. Sean put on a smile and walked over, throwing a slight swish into his walk, feeling the shorts he wore clutching his ass like grasping hands.

He shifted his bookbag so that it pulled on his tight crop top a bit more, making it cling to his slender build. No harm in getting a little more of an advertisement out there, as far as he was concerned. Anything to get the business going, keep people interested in his ass so he could keep himself in school.

And, admittedly, build up a bit of a defense fund. He had seen what happened to students that weren't completely in line with what the administration wanted. Sooner or later, someone was going to catch on to his little game, and when that happened, the fox wanted to have a few thousand squirreled away so he could start running, and running fast.

Sean smiled as he leaned against Jack's locker. The horse looked down at him, a slight blush on his cheek.

"Still on for Friday, Jack? Or is it John, in front of Randy here?" he asked, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at the frog.

"It's, uh, it's still Jack," the jock said, rubbing the back of his neck. "He knows."

"Heh, good. Then I don't have to pretend."

Not that he needed to, considering that Randy was as good as his name, feeling up the fox's ass from behind already. Those thick fingers were regular visitors to his asshole, and he had felt them spread him so wide that he'd needed to blow a couple hundred on some tightening creams. The back-alley clinic had given him a bit of a deal on them, long as he didn't mind a bit of sensitivity for a week.

For him, that was a goddamn bonus.

He pushed his rump back against the frog's fingers, feeling one sliding along the bottom of his booty shorts. The fox knew that Randy wouldn't take it much further than that, though. The assistant librarian knew better than to go too far in public, even if he was allowed to take it pretty far.

Jack, though...

The horse was one of his best clients, someone that paid up-front and paid with a twenty-percent tip most of the time. Not that he had to, considering that Sean was very good at getting what he was worth, but the stallion came from money and seemed to want to keep all debts paid. Good enough for him.

Sean patted the horse across the crotch of his jeans, giving those large colt-makers a little squeeze. Jack groaned, rising up on his hooves slightly before coming back down.

"N-not in public, man."

"Don't worry. Your girlfriend won't know that you're humping the college whore as long as you don't make it obvious," Randy said. "I've known Sean since he was in high school. He's discrete as they come."

"After all, we've been humping for how long?" the fox asked.

"As far as you know, we never did it at all. That's part of the deal," Jack hurriedly reminded him.

"Why do you think I'm asking? I've completely forgotten any sessions we might have had."

Sean smiled, shaking his head as he turned around, putting his ass against the lockers. Randy was disappointed, as ever, but the frog could live with that, he knew. He looked between them.

"So, either of you two see anything interesting today?" he asked.

"Heh, do you mean interesting for business, or interesting for that little obsession of yours?" Randy asked.

"Either or, but preferably what you so nicely call my obsession, thank you."

Neither of them were aware of the same phenomenon that he was, as far as they'd been able to determine. The two of them had fallen into the same trance that every other member of the student body - hell, as far as he knew, every adult of the town - had fallen into, so they made it clear that they were doing him a favor whenever they found anything. Anything to get a cheaper shot at his ass, in the case of Randy, and probably making sure that he didn't rat out the 'straight' horse, either.

They weren't exactly 'safe' to ask, either. If they were susceptible to the trance, just like the others, then there was every possibility that they would end up turning him over if they were asked to while in trance. All it would take would be someone asking the right question.

That said, they were safer than some of his clients. They both had something to lose as much as he did, so they wouldn't volunteer anything, and more to the point, they were both in positions that meant they weren't in trance as often. Jack was on the football field, showing off why he'd gotten a scholarship in the first place, and Randy...

Well, he was pretty sure that Randy skived his duties in the library half the time to go and watch porn in some secluded corner. Either way, they weren't doing what other students and staff were doing at any given point.

Randy looked at him with a smirk, though, which told him that the frog had something. Something big, too, with that grin.

"Before I show you, I want you to promise that I get a free shot at your ass," the big guy said.

"Free? What did you find, a signed confession?"

"Heh, no, but I found something else you wanted. Now, come on. I want a promise, Sean. Say, 'I promise I'll let Randy fuck my ass for free tomorrow.'"

"Can't do tomorrow, but I can give you the weekend," the fox said. "Unless someone cancels, then we'll talk."

"Ah ah. I want you to say it. In public. Right now."

Sean would have rolled his eyes if it weren't so ridiculous. He knew just what Randy was doing. Pressing his limits, seeing what he could get away with. Not that it would harm him in public, really. A quick glance up and down the halls confirmed that there were no staff members around, nor anyone that was known as a rat.

He shrugged.

"I promise I'll let Randy fuck my ass for free on Saturday. Good enough?"

"You couldn't blush a little bit?"

"Look at Jack. He's blushing enough for all three of us."

And sure enough, the horse was. The jock's cheeks were burning like the sun, making it abundantly clear that he was still as shy as he had been his first time. Sean had ended up charging an awkwardness tax for that, but once he found out that it was just how Jack was, he'd ended up refunding it.

"Oh come on, you've had him three nights running, Jack," Randy said. "You still get embarrassed about this?"

"It's...weird, okay? It's weird."

"It's the world's oldest profession, Jack. People were selling ass long before they were buying tickets to your games. Anyway, you got my promise, frisky fingers. What do you got for me?"

Of course, Randy had to make a show of it, pulling at a case in his pocket and spinning it about. Sean indulged him, watching the twinkling metal case as it turned and spun before finally landing in the frog's palm. The assistant librarian hit the button on the front, and it popped open to reveal...

Glasses.

Sean looked at them for a moment, about to ask what the hell this was about, before he saw the little insignia in the middle of them. A little crown and shield, nothing more than that along the bridge, and one that was faint enough that you had to really focus to see it, but it was there nonetheless. It was the same sort of glasses that the teachers wore, and the staff members, as well.

He picked them up, shielding them with his hands from public view.

"Where the hell did you get these?" he whispered.

"The main librarian left them out. Put them on his desk when he went to get a headache pill. So, I put a regular set down and took these," Randy said. "You've been wanting to get your hands on those for a while, haven't you?"

"You have no idea."

Today's class had confirmed it, in a way. Seeing Professor Halkin being so unwilling to take them off, even after the class had been completely entranced, made it clear to him that the glasses were responsible in some way. He had guessed at it before, but that had been confirmation enough.

Now that I have a pair...

"Sure that I can't sneak in tomorrow?" Randy asked.

"Ask Jack, he's the one that booked it," he muttered under his breath. "I have to go, guys. I'll see you tomorrow."

He was already moving, snagging the case from the frog's hand before it could be taken away. Two steps later, and the glasses were back in the case and hidden in his bag. Not that he imagined it would stand up to a thorough search, but it was better than walking around with it in his hand.

I have the glasses. I have them. Maybe I can figure out what the hell is going on.

Sean walked across campus and then off it, making his way across the street and down to the bus stop. The looks he got in his booty shorts were not the ones that most nice boys wanted to get, but he was used to them. You got used to that sort of thing real quick when you worked the alleys and the gas stations after dark in less than this.

The bus arrived, and he walked inside. The bus driver gave him a look that said 'cash only,' and he pulled out his wallet and dropped a couple of coins in the box. The bull driver grunted, nodding towards the back of the bus, muttered about 'fucking whores', and then kicked the bus into gear.

He was used to the sudden jump of public transportation and hopped onto the steps as he went flying backwards. It wasn't quite a backflip, and he didn't land without discomfort, but at least he managed to make it look cool.

Landing in a seat with a bit of an 'oof' and a not-entirely-happy tail, Sean pulled one leg up over his lap and claimed the other half of his seat. If the bus driver wasn't going to be happy with him just for riding, he might as well make it worth it. He tapped his toes inside his sandals, pulling his phone out and plugging in some music for the trip home.

A little heavy metal would do.

#

By the time that he got off the bus, a block away from his house, the bus driver had been about ready to murder him. Not for music, or anything like that, but more for how close he came to conducting business on the bus.

Most of the other passengers hadn't been interested, their eyes half-lidded and tired from work, but there'd been one guy, one guy that looked more awake than the others. A rabbit, for that matter, one that didn't usually look so flighty. He'd been jumpy, his eyes wide and aware, and he had zoned in on Sean faster than anyone else.

The rabbit had sat beside him, pushing his feet off the seat and muttered something about paying him. Paying him whatever it took, whatever it took to get out.

Assuming that the rabbit meant that he needed to get off instead of get out, he pulled out his headphones and offered a rate of $300 an hour, completely joking as he said it. He had never expected the rabbit to pull out a bundle of bills, more than sufficient for that over the course of a day, and push it into his hands.

"Come on, come on," the rabbit said.

Before the fox could do anything, the bus had stopped again. The bus driver had stood up, but not just to throw the rabbit off. Two others had come on.

Two of the Black Hats.

That's what the people called them, anyway. Whatever their species, they wore black suits and black hats, small things that were akin to slightly too small bowler hats. They wore glasses with thicker and darker lenses than their colleagues in positions of authority, and they moved with a strange stiltedness compared to the others.

They'd grabbed the rabbit quickly, covering his mouth as he kicked and strained. One of them had gathered up the bundles of money on the floor - save for one that Sean had managed to tuck into his bag - while the other lifted the rabbit off his feet and carried him out.

The bus driver had complained about the 'whore' in the seat, but the Black Hats ignored him, walking off the bus and taking the fox's customer with them.

He didn't know where they'd taken him. When the bus started again, there'd been no sign of them, or of any vehicle that they might have come in.

He chalked it up to general weirdness and moved on, trying not to think about anything except the money in his pocket and the glasses in his bag.

When he reached his house, he tested the front door. Unlocked, for a change, but probably because he'd gotten home before full-dark. Sean pushed it open, the one-story house stretching out in front of him, the bathroom on his left and the little cubby for shoes, coats and bags on the right. He kicked off his sandals, then shouted down the hall.

"Dad, Paul, I'm home."

"Dad's at a meeting, bro," Paul shouted back. "Not back til midnight."

"The police riding him again?"

"More like he's riding them," his older brother shouted from the living room. "According to him, they're not doing their jobs."

Lovely. That meant that there would be a long, loud list of complaints on the morrow, mostly about the different 'scumbags' that the police couldn't catch. His dad was keen on blaming them for everything that was wrong with the city, for not working hard enough, and anything else that he could blame on them.

Considering that their dad was the deputy mayor of the city, it was not an opinion that they alone were exposed to. It was constantly on the TV as his father ranted and raved against the police department for the news.

Maybe that's part of the problem, he thought, pulling the glasses out of his bag, holding the case between his fingers. Then again, can't really put all your trust in authority...

He cracked the case open, looking at the glasses once more. They still just looked like normal glasses, tinted more than they needed to be, but not quite on the level of sunglasses. There was a crest in the center, something that was burned into the frame rather than being embossed on it, but that was hardly part of it, he imagined.

The fox put the case back in, holding the glasses carefully as he unfolded them, running his fingers along the frames. There had to be something to this, something beyond just the simple fact of wearing them. The teachers and the staff and...well, everyone in authority seemed to have these.

How do you make them work?

That was the question, and he wasn't finding an on-button or anything. But that would be the easiest thing in the world, wouldn't it? It wouldn't be hidden if people were...

Or would it?

They have everyone stupid with the trance thing, Sean thought. As long as people are stupid, then they wouldn't have to care about security. Nobody else knows they exist, so they don't have to take that much care...

He stared at the glasses again, his eyes moving back to the little crown indent on the front of it once more. His finger hovered over it as he shook his head.

It can't be that easy...

Sean touched the tip of his finger to the crown and bit off a hiss as it shocked him. The lenses lit up from the other side, making him gasp in surprise, and he lifted the glasses to his face, eager to see what was going on.

It was like looking at a computer screen, something more advanced and more detailed than anything that they had available to them as far as he knew. In the corner of the screen, a label flickered for a few seconds before going dim.

'Authority Enforcement Apparel, Model 2B. Initiating Personnel Dump.'

The lenses were suddenly filled with more information, showing the files for him, his father, and for Paul, dumping their personal information into the glasses and -

Zap, zap. He winced, suddenly understanding how the teachers were feeling when they used these things. They zapped right through the side of his head, downloading the information right into his brain.

They had more than just their names, addresses, and photos. They had everything from their employment records to their criminal records, and even more private information. Sean would have blushed at some of the pictures that his file had in it, showing him in the middle of an orgy that had marked the end of his high school career - and if it got out, would have ruined his father - as well as an 'interview' where he'd apparently been drugged and spilled not just his sexual history, but his sexual preferences. He would have blushed, but that orgy was still one of his best moments, and he tended to top his metaphorical CV with that particular experience.

Someone had a good camera to get these angles, though. I didn't know we were watched this much...

And it got worse as he was exposed to every scandal that his father had hushed up. Not many, when it came to the potential of politicians, but still enough to bring the older fox down if they were ever brought out. It was blackmail hell, and then -

Annnnd that will probably mean therapy, he thought as he had both videos and photos of his father in bed with many women downloaded into his head. The fox stared ahead, slowly shaking his head from side to side. At least the old man was relatively vanilla, though he had been rather eager to 'breed' the different women that he had been with, and he kept telling the drag queen that he had gone to bed with to keep the wig on, to keep sounding like a woman.

His brother, on the other hand -

This is just getting - oh, hello...

Sean's eyes lit up when he saw that his brother had been a closet gay man for a while, indulging in the same sort of things that Jack had been back at the college. Buying up the 'faggots', as he called them, and using them for his own pleasures before sending them off. There were pictures of his brother with a leash and collar in hand, and a leather band with spikes around his cock and balls.

More and more intriguing.

It didn't bother him as much to see Paul like this as it did to watch his dad. Mostly, it was the difference in partners. Sean had a huge preference for dick over pussy, and seeing his brother fucking many different guys was better than seeing his dad fuck his mom.

Considering that the readout didn't have any scandals for Paul, either, other than the fact that he had bought whores, it was clear that he had been smart about it, too. No serious problems, nothing besides the fact that the son of a prominent city official was gay.

And that, honestly, wasn't that much in this day and age.

He pulled one of the photos back up, smiling at the sight of his brother's cock. Solid and hard, looking like a big black pillar, it was measured out at eight and a half inches by the computer in the glasses.

"Hmmm..."

"Hey, you coming back here or not? If you're going out tonight, I need to know. I got a friend that was thinking of coming by."

A friend. This time, he heard that with the little tinge in the voice that he hadn't heard before. A friend. A prostitute. A whore like him. He would have laughed if he didn't think he wouldn't be able to stop.

God, if he only knew what he had under the roof right now...

But for all that the glasses were giving him some amazing information, he knew that there had to be more to it than just a data repository. That wouldn't cause a trance, and he hadn't seen anything else that they did besides look around.

How do you - oh boy...

As soon as he started thinking a question, a text bar had appeared in front of him, filling up one corner of one lens. He stared at it for a moment, watching as the pause made it delete the partial question.

It's hooked up to my brain. Right. Okay. Well...download Paul's dick pics?

As soon as he made the request, he felt the painful shock again, and barely suppressed a wince from it. It did, however, confirm something to him that he was glad to know. There was an obvious zap when something was going from out of head to in his head. That meant that if someone tried to track him and take control through the glasses, he might just have an early warning.

Okay...how to trance?

And so the glasses started to inform him, putting him through a step by step visual tutorial. When it came right down to it, the process was surprisingly simple.

Regular eye-contact created a connection between the glasses and the mind of the subject, hooking them with electrical lines that were projected with something that was far beyond earth tech. It wasn't dangerous, but it could be interrupted if too many things passed between the wearer of the glasses and the subject.

Once a neural connection was achieved, pre-programmed software was activated by the glasses and the wearer, allowing for pre-programmed commands to be run in the other person's brain, or to allow for the wearer to start programming a new routine. It was a bit complicated there, but the tutorial promised that it would be explained in another wizard.

Then it moved on to the final part, which was ensuring that the trance continued. All that seemed to require was a regular set of eye-contact with his subject, looking into the eyes of whoever he wanted to control every so often to reestablish the connection and strengthen it.

Authority Enforcement Apparel is not responsible for self-hypnosis through equipment clash. Please use only as directed and do not attempt to control those of a higher tier than your assigned number.

The last warning came up just as the tutorial finished, and just as Paul poked his head around the corner.

"Hey, bro, you go deaf or something? You hanging around tonight or not?"

"I'm sticking around today," Sean said, rubbing his temples. "Just had a headache, was thinking about something."

"That's how you got the headache, heh. You sure you don't want to go out? If it's money, I got one of dad's cards hanging around somewhere."

"Heh. That's not the worry."

Sean had been planning to take the night off, to enjoy himself and relax. Now that he had the glasses, however, all he wanted to do was experiment, to test, to see what he could accomplish with them on someone else's mind. If he was going to understand what was going on around him, then he needed to see what the hell the glasses could actually do in the first place, how far they could run.

He'd seen his brother's face turn all slack and relaxed around the glasses before. He'd seen his father be the one to make it happen, so the 'pre-programmed software' must have been in his brother, even if it didn't work on him.

Let's see what sort of routines he has to work with...

The End