Voyer’s Hypnostuff: A Guilded Cage


General Disclaimers: While it features no ‘on-screen’ sexual activity or explicit adult situations, this hypnofetish short does contain examples of fictional characters doing illegal, immoral and/or impossible things to other fictional characters. If you are under the age of consent in your community, are disturbed by such concepts, or want hot wet thrusting monkey-sex in your on-line pornography, then for goshsakes stop reading now!

Permission granted to re-post for free to any electronic medium, as long as no one's being charged to view it, and this disclaimer and e-mail address (hypnovoyer@hotmail.com) are not removed. It would also be nice if you told me you were posting it.

Copyright Voyer, 2008.

Specific Disclaimers and Such: Thanks to Vice over at the Yahoo Group MCComix, who did some Poser fanart which encouraged me to revisit this particular fictional universe..

Dedicated to the Mandrill.

The lock was, of course, the very best that money could buy. Solid steel, bulky yet sleek. Before, Heidi would have considered it total overkill to have it here, attached to this particular pair of doors. But now...

From this side, the inside, in a lesser lock, you’d turn a turn-bar and be through. Not so with this guardian; he sported a very emphatic keyslot on either end. Fortunately, Heidi had the needed key, which she now inserted and turned. Clunk. Above the lock was, of course. the gold-plated handle.

She turned this as well, and the door swung open on oiled hinges, its numerous glass panes catching the various lights in the room behind her, along with bits of Heidi: wide freckled face and lots of brown hair pulled back into a rough knot. She stood for a moment, her bare toes still on the carpet. On the edge of the patio.

Patio. She remembered previous patios, from Before. From the land of the turnable locks. Those were reached by sliding glass doors, and held barbecues and plastic lawn chairs purchased at S-Mart. Here, now..

This door, these two doors, like had been constructed by experts: tall and arched, all the glass thick and perfect (and supposedly bulletproof, although to Heidi’s knowledge, this boast had not yet been tested..)

And this patio...

She stepped out into the night, the flooring rough and cool under her soles. The door swung itself shut behind her. Thump. The various noises and more importantly the smell within were sliced instantly away. She took a couple of slow deep breaths, her arms at her sides, already goosepimplng. Yes, the air was cool, and as clean as air ever got in this city.

The city. It stretched out beneath her, all around her. Ribbons and towers of lights. Whatever Mange’s other faults, he knew how to pick a view.

She padded forward, past the chair (not plastic, but polished wood, with lots of carefully-fluffed cushions), past the Jacuzzi bubbling quietly to itself, past the gaudy (but exotic) flowering plants and the tacky (but expensive) statues. At least she’d been able to consult, however briefly, with that decorator.. what had her name been?.. and arrange all of this in a semi-attractive pattern...

No barbecue. Surprising, sort of, that Mange never showed the slightest interest in burning meat.

She reached the patio-railing, stood before it, then slowly touched it with her fingertips. It matched the doorhandles in color and style, of course. Mange had extravagantly slopped his.. personality.. around their living space, but the bones of were still...

She brushed the thought away irritably.

The night sky was speckled with a few of the brighter stars, but no moon. Beneath that, the city was fully on display. It really did look its best at night; in particular the Bloy Building, turned from its daylight persona of ‘hideous gray stump’ into.. what? A spaceship landing pad, aiming its tracking beams to the sky? If half the stories she’d heard about its builder were true, it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility.

There might even be spaceships coming someday to land. Even Before, she’d noticed a few things, even saw the ArchForce’s ‘non-existent’ Saucer buzz by the window at work one day. And Now.. it wasn’t far-fetched at all.

The possibility came to her, as it sometimes did, that Mange was an alien.

No. He’s all too human.

She looked down. Even at this hour, taxis and trucks trundled along the various streets, looking like jeweled insects.

I could jump.

She blinked as the thought zoomed across her mind. That it could come at all, even out here, in the brisk cool wind. That it could come at all, when she was so.. happy? Was she happy? Was she unhappy?

She thought about this for a long time. A set of lights passed overhead, not stars or aliens, just a small jet headed in the general direction of the airport.

When you got right down to it, the answer to both of her questions was ‘no’. She was.. just here. Now. Standing barefoot on the patio of a luxury penthouse apartment in her expensive, silken, but rather threadbare bikini. She tapped at the railing.

I came out here for some reason. Some specific reason. It certainly wasn’t to jump.

Maybe she needed to review.

How had she arrived Here and Now?

Blind stupid luck. What variety of luck.. she wasn’t entirely certain. Before, she had worked.. toiled anonymously.. in one of those towers of light. She could just see it, over there to the right, if she leaned out far enough. Every night she would go home to her crummy little apartment, which was definitely not on display.

Every night? No. One night after work, she had gone with her idiot friend Tawni to that stupid club. Or trailed along in Tawni’s sparkling wake. Whatever. She, Heidi, hadn’t even liked clubs. Still didn’t. Noisy, crowded, full of Tawni’s fellow idiots, a sizable fraction of them drunk. But she had been more bored than usual. And so she had been there in a corner, nursing her watered-down drink, watching.. when he came wading out of the passing throng.

Mange. A stooped, knuckle-dragging.. bastard with hair everywhere except on the top of his head, sporting a hideous shirt opened enough to expose his hideous gold chains and..

His hideous intoxicating stench. A gal smelled it and her brains just .. melted out.. through her shoes. (Shoes, what shoes?) He’d homed right in on Tawni of course. Men always did; maybe that was the real reason Heidi had gone along, to watch the inevitable freak show. She had always been an observer. But then Tawni was kissing this creature, she was all over him, and the smell hit Heidi, and she also wanted to be kissing him, wanted it more than anything...

They had come back to this very penthouse, along with some other girls. Even now, standing out here on the balcony, her head relatively clear, Heidi was not quite sure why Mange had brought her along. She was sure that Mange didn’t know why. To say that introspection and planning were not his strong suits was like saying that The Wormmaster was sort of damp and creepy.

But maybe.. just maybe.. he had recognized something in her. Mange wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer, but he wasn’t a complete idiot either.

And so. Almost.. what.. three years later... Tawni was long gone and forgotten, dozens more come and gone in her wake, and Heidi was still Here and Now. Not because she was beautiful (she was pretty and/or cute, and had a decent body, but out-and-out beautiful? Not a chance.) but because, evidently, Mange’s knife was at least sharp enough to realize he needed someone like her around.

Not just an observer, but an organizer. Someone to make sure the laundry got done, and to see that there was non-rotting food in the fridge, maintain the damn Jacuzzi, and to pay the bills (And oh, did Mange have bills, owed to other men, who employed still more, very large, men, upon whom Mange’s scent often had an effect, oh yes, and not the same as the women...) Whenever Mange came through the door with his latest conquest(s) wrapped around him, Heidi tried to be right there, peeling off and stashing away any cash/jewelry/toys that she could sell/pawn/trade/invest. Occasionally they would hit the jackpot of looks and wealth, and a very large check would be written. Or it was someone useful, like a decorator, who could help arrange plants to in such fashion as to best de-emphasize statues.

It was a struggle sometimes, but she kept their head above water. Well above water, if you were speaking literally. 23 stories up.

She wondered if somehow, she was somehow partially immune to Mange’s powers. Not totally, of course. Not even close. If she didn’t get smell him.. up close and personal.. every couple of days, she would.. she didn’t like to speculate. Sometimes she had to sneak to Mange’s (large and gaudy) bed and do it while he was sleeping off the latest debauchery. Fortunately he slept like a log, and post-action his current pets were always banished to the various baskets scattered around the room... The very best was just after a Jacuzzi session, when he was mostly clean, with only the scent, slowly, slowly, running her hands across the hairy tangled forest that was his chest, the scent just billowing off him, melting her brains again and again andagain..

She deliberately stubbed her toe against a railing-post, bringing her thoughts back in line.

But even then, there was something just ticking over in the back of her mind, cold and hard and observant. And right now.. the current crop of pets in the penthouse.. they were only thinking about Mange. About being with Mange. And Heidi the organizer had been able to take hold of the long key-chain which forever dangled around her neck, pick out the correct one, unlock the door and stroll out here on the patio.

She really was quite cold now.

She should go back inside.

She remained at the railing.

That was something else that was different about her. Part of the same genetic twist maybe. She could leave Mange, leave his physical presence for a while, and remember. All the pets.. when Mange inevitably got bored with them and kicked them out... it was clear that the whole experience rapidly faded away into a really erotic dream. They could encounter Mange months later, passing on the street, and there wouldn’t be a flicker of recognition. Unless they got a good whiff, of course. There had occasionally been ‘repeat customers’...

But anyway. She, Heidi, could go out. She tried not to, for a variety of reasons, but even with the marvel of the Internet, it was sometimes unavoidable. She would pull open the closet in her tiny (but comfortable) bedroom, and there would be her two options: the overall/dress and sandals combo, or on those rarer occasions when signatures and paperwork were involved, the suit/skirt/pumps. (Both of these, she’d glomped onto them when they had appeared on the body of a pet who sorta matched her measurements. It was a very nice suit, and had come with a very nice check..)


The word came bubbling back up from the depths.

Her fingers curled themselves around the railing.

That’s why she was standing out here, wasn’t it?

It was unavoidable.

And it was all tied into.. one of her trips..?

She thought for one eternal panicky second that her body really was going to jump over the railing. But no. Just the opposite.

Her body was locked in place, fingers around the railing. She couldn’t move. She didn’t want to move. She wanted...

Her eyes widened, just a fraction of an inch, and locked in their new position as well. Someone was coming. She heard nothing but the wind, saw nothing but the lights. But she knew..

Because they had come before.

This had all happened before. Under stars. In the rain. Once even in a light snow-fall.

And it would all happen again. And again, and again, until..


There were rainbows.. bending between the lights.. millions of them...

“ello, Heidi.”

The voice purred behind her, right behind her. She did not react. She had not been given permission to react. A thin, icy hand touched her back, slid across it. Her flesh did not twinge.

A noiseless swirl, and the voice’s owner was standing next to her at the railing. A new pair of hands came up, grasped it.

“Arentchya gonna say ello back?”

Heidi turned her head to look at the other woman. The same as always. Black. Black hair streaming out behind her in a dripping cloud, moving on even the slightest breeze. A black taping body, as sleek as the doorlock but thin and oh-so-feminine, right down to the carefully pointed toes.

And in the midst of the of the hair, two white eyes, just a little larger than they should be. To see better in the dark. There was something in the center of each, but it wasn’t a pupil.

As always, Heidi wondered how the other woman got up here. Climb up the outside? Teleport? The possibility that seemed the most appropriate was that she just floated down on the breeze, like some malign dandelion seed.

“Hello, Umbra.”

Umbra smiled, showing teeth almost as bright as her eyes.

Heidi turned her head back to look at the lights.

“Yer never any fun.”

You want fun, go open that door behind us. Mange’ll show you a good time. Mange would love you.

Or maybe he wouldn’t. The man generally wasn’t at all observant, but he had the danger-sense of a sewer rat. And now.. she remembered all about Umbra, but there was something else. A deeper shadow behind.

“Oh, very well. Gimme yer spiel.”

And with those particular words, part of that shadow lifted...

Heidi turned her head again.

“Umbra. Courier Mode. Level Three. Engage.”

Umbra widened her eyes further, stared at the lights, parroted the words back.

“Courier Mode. Level Three. Engaged.”

Heidi studied her for a long moment, clutching even tighter at the railing, relishing the feeling of power. Umbra would stand there, holding the railing, her legs posed. She would not move (except for her hair, of course), she would not speak, she would not even think until Heidi spoke the words that switched her back on. A moment was all that Heidi was allowed, (speed was needed, it was vaguely possible Mange might even at this time of night, wander out onto the patio to use the Jacuzzi or something..) but it made all the rest ever-so-worthwhile...

“Begin report. Individual aliased as ‘Wormmaster’ telephoned at 4:00 PM Monday, another failed attempt to interest Mange in some variety of proactive criminal venture. Movies viewed on DVD: Voodoo Slaves 5, Galaxy Smasher Squad, Revenge of Doctor Ludmenkov. Wagered on and then watched several professional meepball games, net result, loss of $223. New female collected from Club Eastside-42 on Tuesday, name: Sharon Gadbarrow, employed by the Ruitanian Bank Corp. Collected check for $5,000. Estiimate that Mange will tire of her in less than a week. Diet change: Mange expressed preference for snozzberry-flavored cola instead of orange. No immediate effect noted in regards to pheromonal powers. Mention made of possible trip to Las Vegas; estimate only 40% likely to occur...” Heidi’s tongue ran through this and more on auto-pilot, but then it was over and she managed to extract one last second of delay.. “End Report.”

“Report confirmed.”

There was another second while Umbra processed at this, and Heidi wondered vaguely if all this was really necessary. She could just call...

Call who?

And phones can be tapped, messages overheard. No one tapped Umbra. Doubly so, now that..


Umbra blinked. She did not smile. She swiveled her head, and they were looking directly into each other’s eyes, and Heidi could see what was there, where the pupil should be.

And she knew, she remembered, that it was there deep inside her eyes, too.

She remembered everything.

no no not everything not even now not ever

She remembered what was important.

She had slipped on her overall-dress, dashed out on one of her errands, and suddenly..

She had been in a room, a long thin room with strange walls, and there were other people there, but she only caught the edges of all that, because she was looking at the throne.

The man seated on the throne, gripping the armrests. Impossibly tall, impossibly thin, wearing some sort of robe that was somehow both dull gray and shimmering all at once.

“Miss Beechman.” The voice. Not asking or suggesting or commenting.


She had looked up, she was on her knees, and she looked into his eyes.

Black, bottomless eyes that swallowed her entire world.

And then filled it with millions and billions of rainbows, all spinning..

Something about sleep...

Sleeping with her eyes wide open..

And his voice again, from nowhere, from everywhere.

“I am Doctor Fang.”

“You are..?”

“From this moment forward, my will is your will.”

“Your.. will is my will.”

“You are my obedient slavegirl.”

The words spilled out easier and easier, as if she had known them her whole life, had just been waiting for this moment to say them.

“I am Your obedient slavegirl.”

“You live only to execute my orders.”

“i live only to execute Your orders!”

And it was true, all rapturously eternally true. The rainbows twisted tight around her mind, sang songs from heaven forever and ever, as the Truth spilled into her mind.

And then the orders came. Along with..

And Mange? Mange was just a stupid gibbering monkey who had, evidently, gotten lucky in the genetic draw. It was her Master who truly understood Power and Control, built entire shimmering cities out of them. Even so.. That was the reason that Heidi Beechman, of no particular importance, had come to be kneeling, in person, before her Master’s throne.

Mange was merely of interest. No. Mange was nothing. It was the man’s powers.. Her Master’s will of course completely overrode those powers, so perhaps there only scientific curiosity, something the Master possessed in abundance.. but no. Perhaps Mange’s genetics would eventually have their place, however small, in her Master’s new order. And so those genetics would be discretely protected, even encouraged, in their natural habitat, yes, but also ruthlessly studied and observed.

And reported on.

For yes, as Heidi looked into Umbra’s eyes, she saw, she somehow knew without being explicitly told, that the other woman had attempted to sneak into their Master’s home, plotting to steal some of the Master’s treasure, thinking perhaps her pupilless eyes would protect her.. An attempt that had inevitably ended with Umbra kneeling before their Master’s throne, falling eternally into his eyes, learning the true nature of darkness. Ended with just another slavegirl (however useful) reciting her litany and ecstatically receiving her orders. Now when Umbra wasn’t carrying their Master’s messages, she didn’t even get a basket, she was curled up inside a sealed can, asleep with her eyes wide open, watching the rainbows...


Pulling them both deeper and ever deeper...

Their Master opened Umbra’s mouth, spoke a single word through it.

Heidi jerked, in the process yanking her hands free of their death-grip on the railing. Why was she standing out here all alone, freezing her ass off? She blew out a breath. The air wasn’t just cold, there was only a hint of Mange’s scent, and she was suddenly feeling unusually needy in that department. She needed to breath deep and forget..

Forget what?

Forget something. She turned to go back inside, automatically checking that the breeze hadn’t messed up her hair too much. No. The knot was still there, along with the sharp spike holding it all in place. She longed to touch it, slide her fingers along it smoothness.

Pull it out and..

The image came sharp and bright, but then it was gone, wiped ruthlessly away, and her hand dropped back to her side.

She unlocked the door, swung it open, and Mange’s scent broke over her in a wave.

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