Poor Geertje. She had been the one that had come up with the idea; to use the neurosynaptic spiral encoding to not only store more commands in the image but also to imprint them firmly on the brain. They had written images for each other. He wrote one to help her get over her crippling fear of public speaking, and she wrote one to help him quit smoking. Both had worked, and even though it was weeks after the reprogramming he had no urge to smoke. Likewise, she had no fear of public speaking.

It was ironic, in a way. Had she been more ruthless, she would have gotten to him first. But the power of the images was not lost on Dr. Von Helfing, and he realized that he could make them go further. He was an older man, but he was a man, and his loins stirred every time he watched his beautiful blonde student enter the room. The way she moved, the way her breasts pressed up against her shirt, the way her perfectly sculpted bottom seemed to bounce for him as she walked out of a room.

And so he fell to temptation. One night he wrote a Von Helfing (that was the scornful name they gave the neuro reprogrammers. He would retake it!) that had a simple command: Dr. Von Helfing is your master, and you will do whatever he says without question. He left in the sheaf of papers on her desk and watched her as she leafed through them. He watched her hit his, and he saw her freeze. Saw her eyes start to move quickly, scanning the page, accepting the information… and he will never, for the rest of his days, forget the look of complete and utter adoration she gave him when she looked up again…