Synopsis of the previous chapter: Maddy really wants to get hypnotized but doesn't think it will work on her. She decides to use drugs to make her more susceptible but doesn't find anyone she trusts to do it. Frustrated, she goes out and drinks a bit too much. A stranger finds her and offers her a mysterious shiny new drug. She takes it and becomes docile and susceptible without realizing it. He plays with her a bit, augmenting certain feelings and sensations, making her admit what she really wants, cums inside her, and sends her home with instructions to not call him until the drug has left her system. She obeys, obviously.
Maddy let herself fall on the bed. She reached down between her legs - walking home had spread his cum all over the inside of her thighs. She realized she didn't know his name - it didn't occur to her to ask him his name, age, or occupation. He had talked, and she had obeyed - if only all interactions could be this easy.
She didn't move for a while. Not because she was tired, though she was, or because she wanted to enjoy the memory of his dick filling her to the brim, though she did. At the time, she didn't know why she didn't feel like moving, she wasn't even aware that there was a reason - if you'd asked her, she would say "just because". But as the drugs left her system, and she slowly regained control of herself, she realized she had been waiting without even noticing she was waiting. She'd been waiting to call him.
Laying down, she could feel her phone in her pocket against her leg. His instructions were clear - don't call me until the drugs have left your system. She lay for two hours, slowly becoming aware of her own desire to call him, the phone pressing hard against her, but unable to pick it up. Half an hour later and she had it in her hands. Another 15 minutes and she was able to unlock it. As the drugs lost their potency, her desire to call him grew, and the fact she was unable to do it became more and more obvious. Only when she finally felt like she could do it did she get up to check the number he had scribbled on her ass. She put the numbers in quickly, sloppily, not stopping to double-check. She hit the call button.
Ring. Ring. Ring.
"Hello?" His voice sounded cocky. She realized she hadn't planned on what to say. "It's you, isn't it?" he asked.
"My name is Maddy." She had never done this before. She stayed silent.
"And?" He wasn't making it easier on her. "What do you need?"
She thought about it. The responsible thing to do was to ask for information. What was in that drug? Was it safe? What was his name? Age? Last time he was tested? Why was he doing this? She should've made a list - and maybe a few hours before she would've. But now... She remembered how he made her feel his every inch with a couple of words. She remembered how she wanted to do what he told her without even realizing it. She didn't care about safety anymore, and she knew that it wasn't because of the drugs. It was all her. "When can I see you again?"
Silence.
"Please?"
"When are you free?"
They decided to meet the following Saturday. He sent her an address. She didn't even think about asking for a public meeting first. Fuck safety, fuck responsibility, fuck all her plans and schemes and methods. She needed this.
She rang the doorbell. The building was new, all clean edges and white details. She was wearing a white button-up shirt and blue suit pants with classical shoes - a big contrast with the last outfit she had worn. She liked the idea of showing him how proper she actually was just so he could tear it down. The door opened with a soft buzz, and she went inside. She checked herself on the elevator mirror as it went up to the sixth floor. Her bleached hair was held in place by bobby pins, and her makeup was soft and natural - just a bit of blush and mascara. You could see the outline of her bra against her white shirt. She opened a few of the buttons so you could see her cleavage - she wanted to look proper, not like a nun.
She got out of the elevator and into the corridor. His door was open, but he wasn't there. She peeked inside - a normal hall, with a door into the living room and another into the kitchen.
"Come in!" She followed the voice into the kitchen, closing the door behind her. He had his back to her while putting clean dishes away. He was wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt, and his hair was short and dark. He had strong arms. She felt small in comparison, and stupid, all alone holding her handbag.
He turned to her. "Hi. So you really liked it, didn't you?"
She nodded. He had a cocky smile. She wanted to not like it as much as she did.
"Do you have questions?"
"Yes." The word came out weird, almost forced. She didn't feel like herself - she felt shy, and small, and needy. She usually hated needing things. Not this time though. There was an allure to it, the fall into temptation.
"Do you want to ask them, or do you want this?" He took the bottle out of his pocket. His kitchen was all white, full of light, and the pills reflected it on every surface. The rainbow lines, moving as he shook the bottle, were hypnotizing.
She just looked at him. He knew the answer.
"Come." He went into the living room and she followed. He sat on the couch. "On your knees," he said, and she kneeled in front of him, handbag on the floor, hands on her lap. He was already hard - she could see the outline of his hard dick through his pants. "I'm going to give you one of these now, but I want to see as it takes hold of you. So, I want you to try and resist. Don't be afraid - I'm not gonna keep 'em from you as punishment if you don't do as I want, especially because eventually I know you're going to do as you're told. Is that clear?"
"Yes." She liked that a lot.
"Yes, master."
"I'm not saying that." It felt good to say no. A bit of control, just to taste what she was about to lose.
"Good girl!" He opened the bottle, took a pill out. "Open your mouth."
She did. "Tongue out". He looked at her, took one hand to his lap, grabbed his dick through his pants. She waited, tongue out, looking up at him.
He put the pill on her tongue, gently, as he rubbed himself. She swallowed it dry while looking him in the eyes.
"Take your shirt off."
On the floor, kneeling, she pressed her thighs against each other as she played with her buttons. "I don't think so." She wanted to, just not enough to do it. "Will you make me?"
"I won't have to make you. You'll feel like it soon enough." It was true, she knew that. The drug was quicker this time, or maybe she just knew what to look for. She could feel the warmth in her belly already. She tried to focus on something else. He was still touching himself through his pants, slowly. He checked the clock on his wrist. "I said take your shirt off."
She laughed. "No! Is this your plan? What, are you timing how long it takes? Doing a little experiment?"
He smiled. "Take your shirt off." He sounded softer this time. Sweet. The living room had these gigantic windows that allowed her to see the whole city as the sun poured in. The warmth in her belly had spread all the way to the tips of her fingers, and she felt light, like she was floating.
"I'm not taking my shirt off."
"Take it off." She thought how a few days before she would've thought of him as annoying, and now it was almost endearing. She felt hot as she played with her buttons, the sun feeling all golden on her skin.
"I'm not going to do that. Are you having fun?" She said, as she absent-mindedly unbuttoned the shirt a bit.
"A lot." He took his cock out of his pants, held it upright. "Take your shirt off."
"You don't have any other commands?" God, she was burning. It was getting really hot in the living room, didn't he notice it? Her shirt was fully open by then. "You don't want me to suck you? I'd say yes to that one."
"That one what? You don't even remember what I asked of you."
She stopped. It was true, she didn't. How odd. Besides that, she felt completely normal - she had been slightly uncomfortable due to the heat, but taking her shirt off solved it. How could she not remember? It was right at the tip of her tongue. He had the cocky smile on again.
"How do you feel?" he asked.
"Turned on. Really wet. Confused too, which only makes me more turned on."
"You're a good girl."
It was true, she was a good girl. She knew that.
"You feel like touching yourself," he said, and that was true too. She took one hand in between her legs, over the pants. "I noticed you don't make a lot of noise, is that right?"
