Follow Instructions

At sundown, with the bright heat of day becoming the dark heat of night, I came home from my Friday commute, opened the front door, and called "Hi!"

There was no answer. She must be busy.

I passed by the kitchen, grabbed a slice of ham from the plate by the stove, downed a glass of water and called again.

Still no answer. Was she home? Was she asleep? Where were the kids?

I climbed the stairs, chewing on the ham slice as I went. "Hello!"

I opened the bedroom door. She lay on her stomach on the bed, face buried in the pillows. She wore a see-through knit gray sweater and dark green silk panties and bra. No pants or skirt. Her legs were together, her arms at her sides, palms up, her feet bare. Her hair drifted down to her shoulders, obscuring her face.

"Honey?" I said. She didn't move.

Then I saw the envelope. It lay next to her on the mattress and was marked I'M OK

I picked up the envelope, and read the enclosed letter:

Follow instructions.

The kids are sleeping over at the Kingstons.
No one will bother us.

I am OK, but I am dead.

You may do what you like with me.

But first, roll me over.

You will find further instructions inside my sweater.

Follow instructions.

I set the note down on the night table and ran my hand over her head, down her back, past her buttocks, down her legs to her feet. "I love you," I whispered.

She did not react; she only lay there. I placed my hand under her shoulder and gently turned her onto her back. Her arms, her legs moved limply as her body turned. Her hair was in her face, and her sweater was twisted a bit. She made no move to fix them.

I lifted her hand and let it flop onto the bed. I kissed her neck, and felt the heat in her face. I lifted her sweater, revealing her skin and more of her green silk bra. But no note, no instructions.

I ran my hand over her skin, and felt only her warmth, her heartbeat, and her flaccid compliance.

Then, I noticed the index card which must have fallen from her as she rolled:

Follow instructions.

You may treat me as you like,
but you will prefer to follow instructions.

You are surely hungry.

There is a chocolate bar in the boys' closet,
together with what you should do next.

Follow instructions.

I set down the note and brushed some of the hair back from her face. Her eyes were closed, her lips slightly parted. The temptation was enormous to end the game right then before it really began, but I resolved to play along. She knew just how to make me happy.

I stepped out of our bedroom and across the hall to search for the next set of instructions. (The candy bar had also caught my imagination.)

The boys' bedroom was a mess, as always, and the closet was a Superfund site, but, after a bit of searching, I found an extra large chocolate bar tied to a digital voice recorder with a red ribbon. play me said the little yellow note stuck to the recorder's play button.

I figured I'd listen to my wife's instructions while admiring her prone form, but when I returned to our room (after picking my way back over the clothes, books, and toys littered across the floor in the boys' room), I found that the bed was empty. It was as if she had never been there. She must have slipped out while I was searching.

I opened the chocolate bar, pressed "play," and listened to my wife's voice.

Follow instructions.

Unless things have gone very wrong, you have just found my limp, lifeless body on our bed. You may be assured that I am just fine, but I know you like these little games.

If you follow instructions, we will re-enact the events which led to your finding me a few moments ago. Sometimes, you will be ordered to play a part in the unfolding story of my demise. At others, you will be ordered to simply watch.

You will discover some surprising things about your little wife before the end. You will also see the depths of my love for you.

Please bring the tape player with you, since some of your instructions will be recorded.

There was a slight pause.

It all began this morning when I received a package marked 'Educational Materials'.

Hmmm.

I wonder what it could be....

There was the sound of paper tearing, then the sound of my wife's anguished cries:

No! No! Please....

After a moment's silence, my wife's voice began again, but this time in a breathy, dreamy tone, as if she were talking in her sleep.

Go to the breakfast nook to see what has become of me.

Then, there was silence. I pressed "stop." Everything was still very quiet. I ate the last few bites of the chocolate bar and headed downstairs.

I walked through the foyer, past the living and dining rooms, and into the kitchen. My wife was sitting straight up at the table in the breakfast nook, her arms hanging at her sides. She was staring off with a dazed expression, her eyes focused somewhere out the kitchen window. She was not dressed as I had last seen her, but as she was earlier that morning, before I'd left for work: jeans, a pink polo shirt, sandals.

As I drew closer, I saw that the table was bare except for some brown wrapping paper which had been torn open to reveal a rather large colorless crystal. I walked around to look in her eyes. I spoke her name. She did not move or change her expression.

After a moment, her eyes rolled up and her body slumped forward. Her head hit the table with a thud, her arms still limp at her side. She then lay still again, her face toward the crystal, her eyes closed.

I hurried around the table to make sure she was still OK, but before I could get to her, her eyes snapped open, and she sat bolt upright again.

"Yes, master," she said to no one in particular. She lifted the crystal with her right hand and touched it to her neck, all the while gazing into space.

As the crystal touched her skin, though, her expression changed. Panic filled her eyes and she began to gasp for air. Her left hand joined her right at her neck, as if fighting to remove the crystal.

After a moment, she fell to the floor with a sigh. Her eyes closed and her body lay unmoving. I looked at her still form for a minute or so, my heart pounding. I was unsure of what just happened, or what she wanted me to do next, until I noticed another folded paper tucked into the waist of her jeans.

I bent over and retrieved the note, taking an opportunity to run my hand over her soft form.

Follow instructions.

I lay here for most of an hour.
Then, a man came in through the front door, using a key he had stolen.

You will play the part of the intruder.

Drag me into the dining room, away from uncovered windows.

When you can, remove my sandals, jeans, and blouse, in that order.

You will find a nightstick in the silverware drawer. Take it with you.

It will be clear what to do with it.

Follow instructions.

A toy nightstick made of gray plastic was in the drawer, just as the note said.

The door to the dining room was closed, and my wife lay in its path. I dragged her into the kitchen, holding her by her bare ankles and watching her arms and hair trail behind her. Her blouse was firmly tucked into her jeans, so it did not ride up and reveal her lovely tummy, but I wasn't too disappointed.

After I opened the dining room door, I lifted her under the shoulders, dragging her sandaled feet across the kitchen floor. Her head lolled forward, and I focused on the back of her lovely neck. I bumped into the door frame in my carelessness. I held the nightstick in my teeth.

I left the crystal on the floor by the breakfast table. She hadn't mentioned it in the note.

When I got her into the dining room, I lay her down on the hard wood floor next to the formal dining table. I then stepped over to her feet, knelt down, and began removing her sandals. Sandals, jeans, blouse, I went over in my head. What did she mean by "when you can"?

No sooner had I removed one of her sandals when I heard her scream. It made me stop for a second; I was startled, and I was hoping the neighbors wouldn't hear her and call the cops

She pushed up onto her elbows, turned onto her stomach and tried to crawl away from me. She kicked me (pretty hard) with her bare foot.

I remembered the nightstick in my mouth. I took it in my hand, regained my feet, and chased after her.

She looked over her shoulder and saw me coming, but rather than trying to get to her feet, she seemed to freeze, staring at the gray nightstick with surprise and more than a little fright. I closed on her quickly and brought it down onto the side of her neck. With a tiny gasp, she fell forward into unconsciousness.

After sitting for a moment, replaying the scene in my head and admiring my wife's prone form, I returned to the task at hand: sandals, jeans, blouse. I pulled off her other sandal, then rolled her over onto her back.

The jeans were next. I unbuttoned them, waist and fly. I expected to see her green panties then, but instead I found folds of green fabric. As I worked the jeans down over her hips, I realized that she was wearing a very short green skirt under her pants. I pulled the pants the rest of the way off. It was like undressing a rag doll, which is a bit harder than it might seem, but, oh, so gratifying.

I pulled the shirt up over her head, enjoying the way her hair and arms flowed with the fabric. I found that she was wearing something beside her bra under that as well: a white, sleeveless leotard.

I took a good look at my limp lady. (I think she sensed my surprise; there was the faintest hint of a grin on her face.)

Across the chest of the leotard was emblazoned a large green M so that she looked like someone out of a comic book.

I love comic books.

There was another note taped to her stomach:

Follow instructions.

You have discovered my secret. I am

> MISTRESS OF MIGHT!

You are still the intruder.

Retrieve the crystal if you don't have it with you.

Press it to the M on my chest 3 times, then place it on my forehead.

When you have done that, turn this note over.

Follow instructions.

I walked back into the kitchen and picked up the crystal from the floor by the breakfast table. When I returned, my wife was writhing a bit and softly moaning; she was coming to.

I walked over to her and touched the crystal to her chest as she had ordered. Suddenly her eyes snapped open and her body tensed as if from an electric shock. I lifted the crystal, and she relaxed, her eyes closed and she moaned in pain.

I touched the crystal to her chest again. Again she jerked to awareness and tensed her muscles. When I lifted the crystal again, she again relaxed, but this time her eyes stayed open.

"Please," she said, "whoever you are, please don't. I'll do whatever you want. Just don't..."

I touched the crystal to her chest again. She let out a cry of anguish and convulsed beneath my hand. Her face was set with determination as she fought the effects of the crystal. Finally, with a soft sigh, she collapsed again. She jerked a few times more, and was then still.

I lifted the crystal. She remained where she was, lying there, her arms and legs at unusual angles.

I turned her head and balanced the crystal on her forehead. She uttered a series of soft sighs, and then lay silent for a moment. Her head turned to its side, and the crystal fell to the dining room floor, but it seemed likely that its work was done.

My heart racing, I turned over her last note.

Follow instructions.

I'll be unconscious as long as you wish, but there is more to the story,
and I'll need some time to get ready.
You'll also need to get some background.

In the kitchen, there is a plate of ham,
and some potato salad and beer in the fridge.
Eat. I have already had my dinner.

Listen to the next recording.

It has more of the story, and further instructions.

Listen, and then do as you're told.

Follow instructions.

Instead of going into the kitchen right away, I knelt by my Mistress of Might and ran my fingers through her hair. I sat beside her and lifted her limp form into my lap, laying her head against my shoulder. I held her and rocked her with her head resting against my shoulder.

"You don't have to do this," I said after a while. "To know that you would is enough."

Her head slid off my shoulder and hung back against my arm, her neck exposed. I hoped she was enjoying this as much as I was. I'd hate to think that she was doing this just to humor me, or reward me for something.

I lay her back down on the dining room floor, posed her in what to me was a very lovely position, stood for a while watching her, and then stepped into the kitchen. I really was hungry, though I guess I should have had other things on my mind.

I fixed myself a dinner plate and popped open a beer. When I peeked through the door to the dining room again, I was not surprised to find my Mistress of Might missing.

I pushed the "forward" button on the recorder, and pushed "play." My wife's voice greeted me again:

Ever since I was a little girl, I idolized Supergirl and Wonder Woman and the other superheroines I saw on TV or read about in comic books. When I got the chance to become one, I grabbed at it. My incredible strength and highly advanced intelligence have proved the banes of many an evil-doer over the years.

I won't go into how it all started and everything. It doesn't really matter since it will all be over in the next hour or so. You've already seen how I end up.

A short pause, then

Only a few people know of my weaknesses:

I cannot bear to be in the presence of supernium, a surprisingly light gray material which drains me of my power as long as it is nearby. The nightstick was made of supernium, which was why the blow you delivered rendered me unconscious. The sweater I wore when you found me was also made of supernium.

My heightened intelligence also makes me susceptible to certain psychic or hypnotic attacks, though I have never been exposed to a villain who possesses enough power to successfully use this weakness... until now.

Even so, there is only one way to kill me.

My enemy is the crystal. Formed deep within the Earth, it somehow acquired in its molecular lattice an advanced sentience. Existing for millions of years without the capacity for motion or community, it developed an intense psychic ability and a supreme hate for all of creation.

Spewed from an Asian volcano two centuries ago, it was, for the first time, relieved of the intense pressure and heat of its birthplace. Far from softening its hate, the roots of self-loathing grew deeper.

Over the decades, it learned how to attack the animals whose psychic presence was the only company it ever had. At first, it pleased itself with outright killing any mind within a few hundred feet, sending dogs, bears, bugs, and people into painful convulsing death.

Soon, however, it found that it could enslave these creatures. The humans were the most rewarding, for they could be the crystal's arms and legs, and they could kill and destroy again and again.

Mind-control is, however, taxing for even the strongest of people, so that over and over, the crystal had to find new minds to control, abandoning the bodies of former slaves. Boredom added to the crystal's hate. What it needed was someone strong enough to continue its destruction for decades, centuries, even millennia.

When the crystal's most recent victim (the intruder) placed the crystal on my chest, it realized it had found another host, one that was strong enough to aid its destruction long, long into the future. It placed the intruder into a deep hypnotic sleep, and concentrated its efforts on ...

...me.

Her voice became dreamy and expressionless again, just as it was when she first fell under control of the crystal.

It has enslaved me. I will do nearly anything it asks. I am powerless to resist. There is a small amount of self-will remaining to me, but I fear to use it.

When you are finished eating, come into the family room. You will find further instructions.

Follow instruc....

Her voice trailed off into silence. I had eaten some of my dinner, but discovered I was no longer very hungry. I took a final sip of the beer and walked quickly toward the family room.

In the middle of the floor in the hallway was a toy ray gun like the boys play with. A note was stuck to the side: TAKE ME WITH YOU. I picked it up and continued into the family room.

My wife stood in the center of the room in her costume, her head down, her arms at her sides, her shoulders lax, her feet together, her knees slightly bent. Our stereo system had an index card atop it, held in place by the weight of the evil crystal. More instructions.

Before reading the note I walked over to my wife, circled her still form, taking her in from all angles.

"You're beautiful, you know," I said.

She made no move.

I lifted her wrist to my lips. When I released it, it stayed where it was, and did not fall back to her side. I pushed back on her forehead and her face tilted up.

Her eyes were open, her lips parted, her face in the same distant expression as when I found her at the kitchen table. Her left hand still hung where I left it.

I placed her right hand on her head, posing her like a doll. She made no move to resist, or to change her position. I placed her hands on her chest, and admired her unusual posture, then retrieved the note from the stereo.

Follow instructions.

I am almost completely under the control of the crystal.

Play the CD in the stereo.

You will hear the thoughts the crystal placed in my head,

and see my response.

After a while, the crystal will call for

the intruder, which it calls "Pawn".

You will again be Pawn.

Follow the instructions of the crystal.

Use the contents of the shopping bag when appropriate.

Follow instructions.

I started the CD. (She later told me she made it on the computer using her own distorted voice.) An eerie music began, then an other-worldy voice filled the room:

"Bow before me," it said.

Instead of simply bending her waist, as I expected, my wife dropped to her knees, then raised her arms and fell prostrate.

"Now, sleep," said the voice from the CD.

Her hip fell to one side, and her body rocked over. Her arm and her hair covered her face.

After a moment (allowing me to admire my wife in yet another unusual position), the voice began again: "I see you are quite strong. Perhaps I can use you in my purpose. Or, I can kill you now. Which shall it be?"

My wife made a muffled sound from beneath her arm and hair.

The voice of the crystal boomed out, "WHAT???"

The Mistress of Might began to convulse on the floor as if she were being electrocuted. Crackling sounds came from the stereo, accompanying her bizarre dance. After a moment, the sound and my wife stopped. She lay on her back, her arms and legs spread, her cheek against the carpet.

The crystal's voice was filled with outrage, "Will you repeat your insolence?"

The thin, dreamy voice of my wife answered, "I speak only the truth. You cannot kill me."

The voice on the CD called out, "Pawn!" (That was me.) "Shoot her!"

I aimed the ray gun at my wife and pulled the trigger. The gun lit up and emitted some very loud sound effect, something like a cross between a car alarm and a cell phone.

My wife put her hands to her stomach, curled up her legs and rolled onto her side.

"Again!" said the crystal. I pulled the trigger again.

My victim rolled onto her stomach, her hands still clasped beneath her. Her legs pumped a few times, moving her hips up and down, until she was once again still.

"Again!" the crystal ordered once more. Obediently, I pulled the trigger.

This time, my lady just lay there on her stomach, her hands beneath her, her legs slightly spread. This must have been the end.

I was wrong. After a moment, the crystal said in a somewhat astonished voice, "She lives!"

A moment more, and it continued, "Pawn! Remove her costume!"

My pleasure. The CD played more weird music as I knelt beside my wife's prone form, set the toy gun on the floor, and pulled her skirt around her hips and down her lovely limp legs.

There was another note taped inside the skirt:

You might want to pause the CD if you want to take your time.

Good thinking, I thought. I paused the CD player and then returned to my wife.

I pulled the leotard straps over her shoulder, revealing the straps of her green silk bra. I pulled the leotard down, over her compliant body, her arms, her legs, her head and hair flopping back and forth: my living rag doll. I took my time, as she suggested. At last, and too soon, she lay in her green bra and panties... on her stomach, because I liked seeing her that way. I picked up the gun again.

I started the CD player again, and listened to more of the weird music while I ran my hands over my wife's still form.

Then, the voice of the crystal again: "Perhaps you are not so strong without your costume!

"On your knees!"

She slowly, sleepily pulled herself to her hands and knees, then straightened so that she stared ahead with her arms hanging by her sides.

The voice on the CD barked: "Pawn!" (Me again.) "Shoot her again!"

I hesitated a minute, and she turned her head to me with a look of helpless resignation which for some reason excited me all the more. I fired the gun, and she fell onto her side with a soft sigh.

More weird music while she lay there and I watched her.

"You will be my slave," the crystal said. "You will kill again and again. You will begin with ... your husband."

My wife began to stir, just a little, rocking back and forth. In a moment, she was back on her hands and knees, panting with exertion.

"What are you doing?" came the voice of the crystal.

She pulled herself to her feet, her head down, her arms across her stomach.

"On your knees!" commanded the crystal, but my wife did not obey. Muttering to herself softly, she began to slowly, resolutely walk out of the room. I followed her, and the crystal's protests echoed down the hall.

At the foot of the stairs, my wife stopped, standing there in her panties and bra, breathing softly through her barely moving lips. I could not tell what she was saying, but I saw another note taped to the staircase:

You are no longer the intruder.

The crystal released him.

He wandered out the door, down the block,

and came to his senses at the corner, not knowing where he was,

or what he was doing there.

Follow me up the stairs.

I have entrapped the crystal's mind,

but there is only one way out.

I cannot allow you to be hurt.

I said that the crystal could not destroy me. That is correct.

Only I can end my life.

I set the note on the stairs. She slowly began to climb them. I followed right behind, watching her move. When she reached our bedroom, she walked over to her dresser, and drew out the gray sweater I saw her in when I got home.

She said a few more nonsense words, and then slipped it over her head. As soon as she did, she seemed to weaken further. She drew an envelope out of the same drawer, staggered over to the bed, and dropped it on the covers, then sat down.

She took a breath or two. Then she pulled herself up so that she knelt on the covers.

She spoke resolutely now, not muttering, not lost in a trance. "I resolve..."

A pause. An intake of air. "I resolve to resign my...

"life."

She fell forward, catching herself with her hands, then dropping to her elbows, her head down. She gasped, sighed and softly moaned. Her hips fell, then rose again, then settled down. Finally, she lay as she was when I first found her. I watched her a moment, then opened the envelope she had set on the bed.

My darling, I hope that you have enjoyed this little performance.

There are no more instructions.

You may do with me as you like.

I hope you will do with me as you like.

I have enjoyed dying for you,

especially if it has made you happy.

I am yours...

You have all my love.

We're going to have the kids sleep over with the Kingstons more often.

Please write me if you have any comments about this story.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.

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