Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. Triggers 17 by Slippers (wendyslippers@yahoo.com) (mc, ds, hm, fe, nc) DISCLAIMER: This material is for adults only; it contains explicit sexual imagery and content of an adult nature. If you are offended by this type of material or you are under legal age in your area, do NOT continue. COPYRIGHT: Copyright (C) 2005 Slippers (wendyslippers@yahoo.com) All rights reserved; this story is not to be reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the author. This story may be freely circulated only with permission, in its entirety and with this notice attached. SYNOPSIS: The Hypnotic Shoppe characters, A strange company, a voodoo lady, a bus ride? INTRO COMMENTS: Most of my writings are actual events I've experienced, with names or such changed. This story is from a recurring dream I have. It has non-consensual sex and though I try to tame down the graphic language, the graphic nature is evident. Also, if you're easily tranced- realize I wrote this half-tranced, born from a previous trance, and recurring dreams came from it for days. Please be kind- I write to express what I cannot in my real world. Triggers 17 The large, loud bus roared as the driver stepped on the accelerator pedal. The city bus rocked like a ship on the sea, its ten or twelve passengers leaning and jerking in their plastic molded seats. The driver had long forgotten his normal route, and had been picking up passengers from the Performance Arts Plaza and the College for several days. He made enough of his normal stops that the complaints were few. Mrs. Kurosawa stepped up through the front door, held out her monthly pass for inspection, then turned left and sat in the third seat on the bus's right, beside a young woman in a red and white exercise outfit. She sat her large bag of groceries between her Payless discount loafers, and rested her arthritic joints. The woman beside the older Japanese woman was in her early thirties, or late twenties, with pretty, long dark hair. It was obvious she took care of herself, and was likely a dancer, or an instructor in performing arts. The look on her face was one of inner peace, and perhaps elation, though a confused brow occasionally clouded an otherwise look of elation. The older woman checked what road they were passing out the front window, then smiled at the woman beside her. "Nice day this? You happy, you working out?" She hoped her English was good enough. Dark brown hair barely shimmered as the woman with smooth skin and pleased expression whispered. "Neee,, need," she frowned for a second, but then the look of inner peace and joy flooded across her face again. "Yes, I need working out too," Mrs. Kurosawa smiled. Mr. Kurosawa would have a heart attack if she was in better shape, she thought. "Needle." The woman said in a hushed voice. The Japanese woman worried if maybe the young lady had taken too much of some medication, like she had once, when she misread the English instructions on her medicine. Her stop had come though. So with a snatch of her bag, she nodded her head lightly and stood, looking back for a second to note the young lady was still staring off into space. A quick glance later she realized all the young men and women on the bus were sitting transfixed in some strange delirium. She got off and headed for Mr. Kurosawa. The instructor managed to focus her thoughts enough to get use of her left hand, and like a spider, was crawling it toward the emergency button on the wall. In the back, the short young woman with long blonde hair bounced up from beside a man in leotards, and in three steps of her Adidas jogging shoes, was beside the instructor. A whip of her head threw her long golden locks over her shoulder, and she caressed the face of the woman in the jogging suit. "Relax child, Momma Wendy's gonna fill you with de sleepy happy thoughts," and pulled a small white cotton doll from her multicolored handbag. The doll already had a blue pin in its head, and a red one in the middle of its spine. The Cajun witch in Wendy's body pulled a long, nearly invisible pin with a round pink head from her bag as well. "Nnn, no,," the instructor wasn't sure what had happened back at the studio, or how she got on the bus, with its gentle rocking motion lulling her to confusion. It had to do with the young girl with the pins though, the pins, the warm glow inside all over. "You don't feel dis one going in do you child?" The pink pin was half sticking out of the head of the nondescript rag doll. "So happy now ain't dat so?" All thoughts stopped in the head of the woman with long brown hair. A huge glowing smile grew and shined. Mindless joy and openness filled her entirely, blanking any knowledge of where she was, what she was doing, or why she was there. Her dead eyes stared off, her lips parted in a full smile, wide eyed and slumped in her seat. "You see dis laptop I sit in your warm little lap here? Yeah, take the computer child." The hands of the vacant woman moved to the sides of the black box resting on her thighs. The transfixed joyful face pointed toward the glowing screen. Black, with bold blue words glowing over much of the screen. "BLUEBLOOD.COMCLICK TO BEGIN The witch smiled with Wendy's lips as she clicked the ENTER key. Jack pulled his head away from the electronic circuit board, the smell of soldering smoke filling the room. He had managed to not think about the woman in his secret lens for the whole day. She had been leaving her house early and coming home late, only to shower and crash. Where was she going lately? He thought about a quick intrusion job to install a lens in her bathroom or car bumper, when the door opened and the secretary ushered in, with several large blue plastic bags. Jack prepared himself for the onslaught of derision Jack gasped. Not only had she somewhere misplaced at least forty pounds of her usual girth, but she had traded her normal loud print moo-moo dress for a black cotton knit. She was still pudgy, and her legs needed hours in the spa, but she was looking much better and her smile betrayed that she knew it. "Well, Mizz Grouch, look at you!" The transformation wasn't complete but it was startling. He had never seen her smile before, nor had many people. "Ha-ha, it's a new outpatient liposuction and skin treatment. They laser your skin to shrink it, and now I have a twenty week workout plan, and massage and cream applications. I also have to wear their clothes." "Um, what clinic has their own clothing line?" "Blueblood." Carla leaned against the counter at the Shoppe, tired from her two jobs. She had missed so much school in the last two weeks she had to withdraw, and Amy had only two more days to miss as well. She leaned her head against her forearm, and slid off the straps of her new four inch heel black pumps, letting them clunk to the floor, from her stool by the window. But the new career paths were worth it, she mused. Watching the store for Wendy was more just free money than anything else. Few people came in, and those that did usually wanted tarot readings, so she gave them the phone number list and a free cup of tea in the new café area. At night, she and Amy went to the Blueblood store and worked. Worked. She focused on what it was she did, but she was too tired to call it up from the black goo in her brain. She was so tired she failed to notice many of the products and the petty cash were missing.