After a costume change for the Master, he and the Mistress proceeded on to their next stop. A small scale factory located in London's industrial district called, 'Farrel Plastics.' They'd both decided that among the many companies in London that were producing plastic, this one was best suited to their needs.
It was small, but big enough to provide the necessary equipment and supplies needed for the Nestene. They also knew, that Farrel Plastics wasn't doing very well at the moment, and that they weren't getting nearly enough orders to fulfil their quotas. Which meant that the Master and the Mistress, would be able to take complete control without having to worry about other customers snooping around, demanding to know why their orders hadn't been complete.
Once agreed, the Master had then phoned to set up a meeting with the man in charge of the company, Mr. Rex Farrel. He was delighted to get their call and was able to schedule them in immediately. They'd had some time before the meeting however, so to fill the gap, the Mistress took great pleasure in taking the Master into a tailor shop. There, she took control of the owner and had him assist her in dressing up her Master.
By the time she was done, the Master was then dressed in a finely made dark suit to match her own outfit. Beneath he wore a white collar shirt with black Gallifreyan cufflinks, as well as a dull orange tie that the Mistress thought suited him perfectly. The Master wasn't as sure, but wore it just to please his Mistress.
She herself wasn't in need of a business suit for their meeting. Her standard outfit consisted of a double-breasted dark jacket, with four gleaming black buttons and sleeves pushed halfway up her arms. As well as tight leather trousers and the aforementioned black ankle strapped high heeled sandals, the Mistress always looked like she was ready to do business.
Arm in arm, the two infamous Time Lords then made their way to Farrel Plastics for their meeting. The Mistress purring with excitement, while the Master held a confident smirk on his lips.
When they arrived, they were warmly greeted by Mr. Farrel and a few of his staff. They quickly went through the formalities, before then being escorted up to Mr. Farrel's office. Once the door was closed and they were then alone, the Master said, "I'm very glad that you could see me and my wife at such short notice, Mr. Farrel."
It should be noted however, the Master and Mistress were not actually married. It was just a simplification used for their cover story.
"Well, your telephone call was pretty intriguing, Colonel," admitted Mr. Farrel, almost a little nervous. "Do sit down," he said, gesturing to the two chairs in front of his desk.
"Thank you," the Master replied, pulling out a chair for the Mistress who nodded in thanks before taking her seat.
"Er, we do–We do have a little spare capacity at the moment. That is to say, I'm sure we should be able to squeeze in whatever your order is," declared Mr. Farrel. Getting right done to the business side of things, as he nervously rubbed his hands together.
Of course, the Master and the Mistress knew why. After all, they had done their research, and had picked this company for the very reason why Mr. Farrel was so nervous.
"I would say more than a little," pointed out the Master curtly, leaning back in the chair next to the Mistress. And just like that he'd seized control of the conversation and the room. How the Mistress loved to see him at work, as she bit down on her lower lip. "Considering that your plant has been working at less than half volume for over a year now."
"I see you've done your homework, Colonel," said the embarrassed Mr. Farrel, now that his secret was out in the open. "Well, I…admit I was interested when you mentioned a steady repeat demand," he continued, trying and failing to hide the desperation in his voice. The Mistress did love to see her subjects squirm, watching with predatory like eyes, as Mr. Farrel made his way around to the other side of the desk to sit down.
"Well, fortunately for you, Mr. Farrel. The people we represent, can never have too much plastic," declared the Mistress, as she subtly slid her chair closer towards the desk between her and Mr. Farrel. Crossing her legs at the knee as she leaned forward to meet his excited gaze.
"Well, that's-that's excellent," said an overjoyed and delighted Mr. Farrel, unable to contain his smile. "May I ask what it is you'd have us be producing?" he asked, leaning forwards with his hands clasped together on his desk, as he tried to maintain his professionalism. Unfortunately for him, things were about to take a nasty turn.
"Oh, there's no need to get into all that right now," dismissed the Mistress, still holding her gaze with Mr. Farrel. "In fact, before we proceed any further, I think we should get to know each other a little more, don't you, Mr. Farrel?" The Mistress's voice had taken on a softer, more entrancing tone as she spoke, and as it entered Mr. Farrel's mind, he couldn't help but agree.
"Yes, I quite agree," he said, smile growing when he saw the Mistress's own smile.
"That's good, Mr. Farrel. That's very good," replied the Mistress, as she brushed aside her hair with a flick. Giving her eyes a clear line of sight into Mr. Farrel's. "Tell me, what do you think of my eyes?" she asked, placing her hand beneath her chin, and giving her eyelids a flutter as she began to pull Mr. Farrel into her hypnotic gaze.
"Your–Your eyes?" stuttered Mr. Farrel, suddenly finding himself unable to blink, or even look away from the Mistress's eyes.
"They're beautiful," he said automatically, mouth left hanging open as he finished.
"I know," agreed the Mistress with a thin porcelain smile. Well aware of how attractive she was. "I've been told they are a cloudy blue. Do you agree?"
"Yes."
"That's good. You like my eyes, don't you Mr. Farrel?" the Mistress asked, once again guiding him with her hauntingly soft voice.
"Yes," he repeated.
"You could look into them all day, couldn't you?"
"Yes," he said obediently.
The Mistress smiled, satisfied with the way things were going. Sure she could take control much faster, just as the Master could, but she liked taking control slowly, methodically. Without the subject even realising until it was too late.
"You're starting to get lost in my eyes, aren't you? In that hazy blue mist of mine. It's engulfed you. Becoming your whole world. You can't look away from my eyes, just as you can't escape the mist that has encompassed you." At this point, Mr. Farrel's breathing had become heavier. On the verge of hyperventilating, as if he really were trapped and lost in a blue mist.
"But don't worry," the Mistress soothed him. "I'm here to guide you. Just follow the sound of my voice. That's right, surrender your trust to me. Obey me and I will guide you out." And as she spoke, Mr. Farrel's breathing began to quieten.
"That's good, Mr. Farrel. You are doing most excellent. Now do as I say and close your eyes." At her command, Mr. Farrel's eyes closed, head dipping forward. "The blue mist is fading away now. You are free. Free to obey me and my every command," instructed the Mistress, her voice echoing inside Mr. Farrel's mind. Drowning out his thoughts until he believed the Mistress's words to be his own.
"I shall obey," said the obedient Mr. Farrel.
"You are mine to command," declared the Mistress in that same soft voice, leaning back in her seat as she smiled at her handy work.
"I am yours to command," repeated Mr. Farrel.
"You will now awaken. Knowing that your only purpose in life, is to satisfy, and obey me." The Mistress then snapped her fingers, and Mr. Farrel's head shot up, eyes wide and blank for a moment. Until he blinked, and life returned to those brown eyes. But it was a life now under the Mistress's control.
"I think it's time we got started," declared the Mistress with a look to the grinning Master next to her.
"Of course, Mistress. My faculty is at your disposal. Whatever you need I shall obtain for you," said an enthusiastic Mr. Farrel without hesitation.
"You're too kind," purred the Mistress, resisting the urge to laugh, before both she and the Master set to work.