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Chris Anderson

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DEALER BY PROXY, PT 2: THE EXCHANGE

I watched him stride into the store and take off his sunglasses as he passed a rack of suits. He was suddenly unsure of himself. I had implanted the suggestion to be here at 3 pm, but nothing else.

While the clerk was distracted with another customer, I stopped pretending to browse and tuned into his stream of consciousness, willing him to let me take full control. His hands began to tremble as his hulking body grew rigid. He tipped his head back slightly as his eyes rolled up into his head.

I curled his lips into a smile. I was back.

Fiddling with his fine motor movements, he slide his sunglasses back on to hide the evidence of my entry. Try as I might, I’ve never been able to get the eyes right. Fortunately it’s also a fail-safe way to know I’m in control.

I modified the gate of his walk as he approached the salesman, copying the swagger of a hot straight guy at the gym I saw earlier. I wanted my proxy to embrace his power and cause a bit of confusion. When he approaches, you don’t know whether to run or beg him to fuck you.

Maybe both.

He reached into his pants and adjusted himself. I brought his fingers to his nose and borrowed his senses, smelling the odor of his dank, unwashed cock.

The salesman, watching him closely, stepped behind the register to hide his erection. “Can I help you, sir?”

I wanted to play with him.

My muscle-puppet slid a thick hand onto the salesman’s, resting on the counter. “I’m here to pick up an order,” he said, bringing his face uncomfortably close to the salesman. I felt the salesman’s nervous breath gust against his neck.

“Right away,” he said, breaking away quickly.

He took off his sunglasses as he shrugged the suit on in the dressing room. I examined the fit, thrilled with the ability to flex his ass as I cup it and worship the meaty bulges that threatened to tear the fabric.

Getting distracted, I glanced to make sure his eyes were still rolled back, signalling my ownership.

A perfect fit. The suit and the man.

I directed him into the bathroom and snapped a quick pic for the boss along with the text:

READY TO WORK.

The sun started to dip as I a glare caught my binoculars. Borrowing his sight from across the street, I studied the cafe from the balcony. The product was safe and sound in the BMW parked on the street, and my contact - the server on the patio - just needed the keys for the exchange.

I had him straighten his suit, adjust the meaty cock nestled in his new jock strap and slide on his sunglasses. He shot a slight grin my direction as he left the patio.

He re-emerged on the street. I guided his legs while focusing on the way his glorious body fought against the suit. Borrowing his senses, I ran his hands along his body– feeling him up from the inside– as he crossed to the restaurant.

He settled in at a table as the server approached. The older man smiled and offered, “Would you like a menu, sir?”

”Just an americano, thanks,” I grumbled through the dapper beast. He dropped his sunglasses for a moment as he said the agreed-upon signal, “It’s cold for a Tuesday.”

The server’s face dropped as a busboy brought a steaming cup of coffee. “I didn’t know you would be using a new contact.” He looked around at the other patrons suspiciously. “Just tell me who you really are and we can deal directly.”

”The other one was compromised and this one is still a little…” I adjusted the collar that was wrapped tight around his thick, muscular neck. “Stiff.”

“Who are you… really?”

“Not important,” he bit off. I flexed one of his biceps under the jacket. A subtle rip was heard. I used his other massive arm to yank on the server’s tie, bringing his face close to my proxy’s. “What’s important is that you don’t make me angry. Especially in this body.”

He let go of the frightened server as he dug the BMW’s keys out of his pocket, dropping them on the table cloth with a plunk.

“Now the money,” I said steadily. “I want to enjoy my coffee. Well… enjoy him enjoying the coffee.”

I brought teacup to his face and felt the heat lick at his nostrils. Upon taking a sip, I tasted the flavors he was experiencing. I felt the comforting hot liquid shoot down my throat.

The server snatched the keys as he pulled out his phone. Shortly, my hunk’s phone buzzed.

1.5 million bitcoins have been dropped into an untraceable account.

As the server turned to walk away, I tugged at his apron. “I could actually use your help training him tomorrow. You up for it?”

“Will I meet the real you?” he asked skeptically.

“Yes, sir,” I responded, unbuttoning a couple of his buttons and flexing his pecs, giving the older server a little taste. “But after our training session, it will only be this guy that you care about.”

He looked at me questioningly. “What made you change your mind?”

“If you try to double-cross me, Marty,” I dropped his sunglasses once again and pointed to the rolled-back eyes of the possessed man, “You will be next.”

The server gulped as he ran back inside. I borrowed the vision of the hunk once more and shot a sexy wink to another woman on the patio, then showed off a bit, twitching his massive pecs under his shirt.

Source: @the-dapper-executive

Chronivac Implant (2)

Over the following weeks, the changes were slight but noticeable. He met twice a week with his coach and he was taught what he needed to know about maintaining his body, nutrition etc. He'd been given a provisional training plan and he was definitely out a lot more than he used to be and would come back directly from the gym in his gym clothes, still sweaty and all. Wild really because he used to be such a neat freak and was immaculately clean and likely repulsed by the thought of sweat. Now he seems to love his body and taking selfies.

Which reminds me too: I swear that thing is not only rewarding narcissism, purposely distracting him from things. Like he drops his bag down somewhere, or kicks off his shoes then will totally forget about it. It's like he doesn't even see the things lying around anymore. When I mention it to him, he genuinely seems surprised that I am telling him he left some protein shaker near the TV yesterday and it's still there. And anyway his OCD about these things must be being affected because his room is a far stretch from a few weeks ago. He was so neat and everything had a place, but since he was given a load of gymwear in his onboarding, he didn't really have a lot of space so it's either hanging out of drawers or just cast around the floor. Not sure if I'm just imaging the musk from his room or whether it's really there. But again, he seems chill with it.

One thing he said he was struggling with at his regular coaching sessions was sport. Part of the process of his therapy was choosing some characteristics and one was picking which sports he'd like. He told me he'd even asked to skip it, but he just had to choose something. Eventually they chose football for him. Apparently each time he has a session, some time is devoted to learning all he needs to know about football. He says he suddenly becomes hyper-attentive and they force tonnes of knowledge about rules, players, teams and past games into his head. Apparently it's exhausting because when he comes back after those sessions, he's always beat and lies down for a few hours.

Slowly though I can see he's taking an interest, or being conditioned to. For someone who hates sports, he was certainly changing. One evening we went out with friends and he'd keep glancing at the TV screens and losing the conversation. Another time he was totally not present and kept checking his phone every few minutes to check the score. When he saw the other team take the lead he cursed under his breath and looked genuinely frustrated.

As you can imagine, all this change took a lot of his energy. From coaching, to gym to recovery and everything else, it left little time to study. We had mid-terms and he barely scraped a pass. For some reason he was really happy about it? When I asked him what there is to be happy about, the previous straight-A student said something like "Because it's fucking working dude! Like before I'd study and ace it no problem, and even now I tried hard to study and concentrate in the exam. And I honestly did my best and don't know what else I could have done better and I got my first fucking D! I'm really changing bro - the best I can do is a D!" He had a beaming smile as if he'd really accomplished something.

And if you think that's crazy, wait til I tell you about his sex life.

Easy grab...