Maddy Takes A Fun Pill

The single most frustrating thing in Maddy's life was that everyone thought she was boring. It's not like they didn't have reasons to think that - she was not a risk taker, she could admit it. She played it safe - she had played it safe all her life.

She came from a troubled home (a nice way to put it, and she was always nice), but never got into trouble. She had studied hard, spending her high school years at the library, not touching a drink during the school months, never staying up past nine during exam season, all so she could get the perfect grades for the perfect scholarship for the perfect ticket out of the hellhole she was raised in. And it paid off. She got a full ride to an Ivy League and she was out of there. You could think the sudden freedom of being alone for the first time in her life would lead to some bad choices, but she remained as before - focused, diligent, hard-working. During her years at uni, she didn't make one single impulsive decision.

Not taking risks is not the same as not doing fun things. It just means you try to avoid all the negative consequences that could come from it. It's not like she never got piss drunk - she did, several times. But the first time, she did it in the comfort and privacy of her own home, where she logged what she was drinking in her little Excel document and kept a detailed record of the "symptoms" she was exhibiting, so she knew how well she could handle alcohol before embarrassing herself in front of others. Every time she got drunk after that, it was during the holidays and she felt in complete control, even when puking in a stranger's bathroom.

And it's not like she never had a stupid one-night stand - she did, more than several times. But she would always look for the right person, someone she knew was good in bed without being a fuckboy (or fuckgirl), someone she knew was discreet.

And it's not like she never did drugs - she probably did more drugs than half the people in that school. She was a good student because she was curious, and curiosity doesn't go away with a bit of danger. The difference between her and the stoners and cokeheads that she frequently encountered at the few parties she attended was that she didn't go into it after a breakup or impulsively once her fun night out had started to die down. She did her research - how much, how long, how strong. Every time she had decided to try something new, she made sure she was in a good headspace, got her room ready with snacks and activities, made sure she had someone on call in case things went awry, made sure her vibrators were all charged and ready to go, and locked all the windows and door. You would never catch her drooling in a common room or maniac in a corridor - she was not a risk taker. But you would also have some trouble finding something she hadn't tried before.

She was now in her last year. Exam season had passed, and she was just waiting for the results to come in, results she knew would be good. She had a few interviews lined up, a nice comfortable path in front of her, and two weeks free of any responsibility to spend doing whatever the fuck she wanted. And she knew exactly what that was.

Maddy had an interest (a fixation, if we were being honest) in mind control. It wasn't surprising at all - the control freak wishing for a break. Every time she touched herself, that was the fantasy that played in her mind - she had read every story, watched every video, listened to every audio. Unfortunately, it didn't work for her. No matter how much she tried to get into it, to convince herself to go under, her mind, her awful focused controlling mind, could not let go of the wheel.

At first, she tried to make her peace with it. Maybe it was for the best - sometimes, the intensity of her cravings scared her. If she wanted this that much, who knew how she would react when she got it? She didn't have an addictive personality, never had problems with alcohol or drugs or saying no to things, but she never wanted anything as badly as she wanted to be controlled, and not any type of control - the one so absolute you don't even notice it. She craved it desperately, the blank look slack-jawed bliss, the unawareness, the brain free from thought now able to take it all in, every little input. Would she want to go back? Would she be able to? The risk was high, but that's what made it so delicious.

Maddy wasn't willing to give up on this particular fantasy, so she made a plan - a simple plan, really, divided into two parts. If her mind wasn't budging, there were two possible reasons - either the outside influence was too weak, or the inside resistance was too strong. Her plan was to attack her mind from those two points - increase the outside influence by getting a real person to hypnotize her, and reduce inside resistance by using some kind of drug.

There were two problems with her plan - first, she would have to find someone experienced in the art of hypnosis and willing to hypnotize her while she was under the influence. It seemed to her like anyone in that category would also belong to the category of "creeps she would never trust to be in control of her". She had never told any of her partners about her kink - to trust a stranger with it... It would have to be a very special stranger. She had joined some online groups and had been to some in-person group meetings, but no one seemed to fit the part. Even when she found people it seemed like she could trust to not take advantage of her, she didn't trust them to be good at their jobs - not their fault, but most hypnotic subjects are so eager to be hypnotized they just slip into it, no resistance. She was a complicated case.

The second problem was the drug. There were some obvious choices, but she only considered options for drugs that were well-tried and tested. Weed made her incredibly horny, but it didn't make her any less controlling. Xanax made her very, very relaxed, but her libido was completely erased in the process. Ecstasy made her feel hot, which made her feel horny, but she became bratty and argumentative. LSD was the best thing she had - she became subdued, easy-going, open to new things and experiences, and her libido wasn't affected - but her experiences with it had been very unpredictable. Sometimes just a bit of it would affect her a lot, sometimes a bigger dose would barely do a scratch on her psyche. Sometimes she tripped for just a few hours, and once she was under the effect for almost a full day. She thought the problem was the supply - she needed something of better quality, more constant.

Maddy knew the chances of getting a trustworthy dealer, checking the new supply to calculate the dosage, and getting a trustworthy hypnotizer, all this in two weeks, were literally none. She had a rule against doing psychedelics twice in the same month, so it was completely impossible. At the same time, there was a small voice in her, a voice that had been missing most of her life, whispering "Come on... just this once... two weeks left... you know you want to do it...".

She did want to do it. She wanted it so badly that it hurt. She wanted it so badly she couldn't stop thinking about it. Eating her breakfast, a bit of milk running the side of her mouth, and she would imagine how sweet if it was her drool, how sweet if it was her mindless, subdued drool... Reading late at night, her tired eyes unfocusing, and all she could think about was how wet she would be if someone did that to her, made her unable to read, or maybe they could still let her spell out the words while unaware of their meanings. At night, getting ready to go out, choosing her clothes, wishing someone would choose them for her, wishing her response instead of intuitive annoyed opposition was just subservience, a sweet "yes master of course master take me master fuck me master right here master right here in my big open dumb mouth".

But she was still her, and her options hadn't changed, and so, though it hurt her very soul, she decided she had to postpone the plan. There just wasn't enough time to do it properly, and so she wouldn't do it at all. She decided that as she got ready to go out - a small house party a friend of a friend invited her to. Making a good decision doesn't mean you feel good about it: she was pissed, and horny, and worst of all sexually frustrated. She changed her outfit from a tight but still modest dress to a black tube top that could barely contain her breasts, a short skirt with frills underneath, a pair of fishnets, and the tallest heels she could find. With her heavy eye makeup and bleached blonde hair, she looked like a doll, a big-eyed innocent bimbo, and she was hoping someone would fuck her like one.

Everyone hates not getting what they want, but Maddy took it a step further. She was fine with it when it was other people's fault, but when it was because of her? She knew, she had proven it to herself time and time again, that she could do absolutely anything she put her mind to, and so not getting what she wanted had the added injury of knowing it was because she failed, in some stupid probably predictable way. Maddy thought about this as she walked to the party, as she bought a bottle of wine, as she irresponsibly drank it on the way. God, red wine went right to her head. She found herself in front of the address her friend had given her, a two-story house with a tiny little garden and a big red door. The party seemed to be a hit - the door was open and there were people everywhere, sitting in front steps, going in, coming out. Maddy was supposed to meet a friend at the entrance but the high heels hurt her feet and she needed more booze in her system, so off she went into the mouth of the wolf.

She went straight into the kitchen, but all they had was beer - this late into the night, she needed something stronger. She looked around the first floor, but no sign of clear liquor. She eyed the stairs... There was always the medicine cabinet. She started going up. There was a couple making out on the steps, and she carefully stepped around them. The second floor was darker, less people too, and she tried to pass unnoticed. She opened the first door - a teenager's room, and a couple making out on the bed. "Oops, sorry!" She opened the second door - king bed and old pictures. Jackpot.

She closed the door behind her and went straight to the bathroom. Opened the cabinet.

"What are you doing?" She almost dropped the bottle she was holding and looked at the mirror. There was a guy by the doorframe, hands in his pockets. Didn't seem like a cop, and certainly wasn't the owner of the house.

"Stealing pills. Hopefully something good." She checked the label - some antidepressants, useless. She took another bottle.

"What would you say is good?" he asked.

"Here, best I can find is probably some Xanax, but it's not looking great."

"I have something."

It was the way he said it. Ok, maybe it was the wine and the horniness and the annoyance, but it was also the way he said it. Like he wasn't interested in it for himself, like he was simply trying to help. She wasn't the type to accept drugs from strangers, but the way he said it caught her attention. She put down the bottle she was holding - it was useless anyway.

"Something good?"

"If you're into that type of stuff. It's not your normal high, it's a thing I've been working on. A cocktail of mine."

That seemed even more dangerous. And irresponsible. Stupid, really. And she never made stupid irresponsible dangerous decisions. She saw as he took a little bottle out of his pocket, played around with it. The bottle was clear but too far away for her to see the color of its contents - she could only see the way the pills seemed to reflect the light, sending flashes of rainbow ricocheting off the walls. She took a last look at herself in the mirror. She was all grown up and yet she still couldn't get the one thing she really wanted - a fucking break. She turned to him.

"How does it make you feel?"

He laughed. "Oh, I haven't taken it. Not my type of stuff. It makes you easy-going. Relaxed. More willing."

"Willing to what?" She trusted him, for some unknown reason. She could see he was being totally honest - if he sounded mysterious it was only because he knew that's what she wanted.

"Anything, really. If you want to try them, and it really seems like you do, you should know I'm not kidding: you'll do anything you're told to do. And you should also know it's going to feel really good." He said it in a purely informative manner. She knew, from his tone alone, that the drugs made you willing but what made you feel good was something else.

She wanted to ask him what was the exact composition of the pills. She wanted to ask about side effects, duration, estimated hangover. She wanted to ask why he offered them to her. "I want them". It was the only thing she could say. She noticed how desperate she sounded, and hated herself for it, and then hated herself for how wet that made her.

He threw the bottle at her. "Don't worry, I'll take care of you. Just take one."

She opened the bottle. The pills were reflective, like tiny disco balls that someone smashed into an oval. She looked at it in the counterlight and saw the bathroom lit up in several colors. She put one on her tongue. Swallowed dry. Threw the bottle back.

He put it back in his pocket. "So, why did you take them?"

"Do I need a reason? Maybe I just wanted to get high," she said. She was trying to focus on how she felt, to get some kind of baseline. Her head felt good, solid, her line of thought was coherent, and though the wetness between her legs and emptiness in her belly were noticeable she assumed she was just horny because of the situation. It hadn't kicked in yet.

"No, I've seen you around campus. Even the party girls don't take mysterious shiny free drugs from strangers, you're certainly not the type. I know I was the one to offer, but I never thought you'd take them. So why?"

There was a warmth in her belly, and it was starting to spread. She wanted to tell him off, to tell him he didn't know her and it was rude to assume, but the idea of raising her voice was suddenly too much trouble. And she wanted to tell him the truth. She wanted to play nice.

"I just like it. Fine. I'm obsessed with it. Being willing... I'm never willing. I want to want to do what other people tell me to." The warmth went from her belly and was slowly running down her arms, down her legs, back up again. Caressing her neck. Kissing the inside of her thighs.

"Why do you think you usually don't want to?"

"People are stupid. They want stupid things and they want to reach them by, like, stupid means." She felt suddenly self-conscious of her speech. She was smarter than this, she knew words. All the words she knew seemed to be running out of her slippery mind, right there slipping out as the warmth came in. "Inefficient, I mean."

He laughed at her. "It's ok, is it getting harder to use big words? You can use smaller words, I'll get what you mean."

Usually, she would get pissed if someone laughed at her, but all she felt was herself grinding her legs together. She really wanted to play with her tits but felt like it would be rude, so she just looked at him, waiting. What was she waiting for? She wasn't sure. She pressed her thighs together again, feeling her own wetness spread.

"So, you were saying you don't follow people's suggestions cause you think you'd do better?"

Ah, yes, they were in the middle of a conversation. She'd forgotten. "Yeah, usually. Well, almost always. I'm not supposed to say that part out loud cause it makes me sound cocky, but it's true. I make good decisions."

"Well, I'd believe you, except that this wasn't a good decision, was it?" He was looking at her like a parent at his misbehaving kid. "This was irresponsible. You were stupid. And stupid people shouldn't be making the decisions right now."

He was right. She hated when other people were right, but he was right, and that was making her so horny she couldn't think straight. She felt hot all over now, but she still had enough logical thought to realize the only responsible thing now was for someone else to call the shots.

"Come here," he said, "come into the room."

He sat on the bed, she sat in front of him.

"Do you feel hot?" he asked. "It's normal to feel hot around this stage."

She nodded. She didn't feel the need to talk. She was so relaxed, and he seemed so sure of what he was doing, there was no need to think at all.

"You should take your clothes off then," he said, and of course he was right. How hadn't she thought of that? She took her top first, then her skirt, her shoes. She kept on her panties and underwear. "How are you feeling?"

She focused on her body, closed her eyes. "I'm warm, all over. It tickles a bit, really."

"You feel like you need to be touched."

"Oh yes, that's exactly it." She didn't know how she hadn't recognized that feeling before, but she needed someone to hold her, grab her. Still keeping her eyes closed, she felt his hands caressing her arms, moving to her waist, then hips, waist again, her breasts.

"What else do you feel?"

She tried to focus but it was like every time she could remember a word the previous one was already lost. "Hard to think..."

"I know honey, but try."

She tried to focus. "Your hands feel good. I'm wet. I want you but I won't try to have you and I don't know why."

His mouth was on her neck now. "It's because you're waiting for permission."

She realized he was right. He was so right. God, it felt so good to be wrong, or just not know, or maybe it had nothing to do with that. Maybe it just felt so good to be grabbed and kissed and touched and grabbed and kissed - every time she remembered a new word the previous one was swallowed by the fog in her mind - and grabbed and kissed and she could do that forever.

"Unbutton my pants." She did. "Take it out". She did. "Put it in your mouth." She did, and she felt him grow inside her. She felt him stiff in her mouth. If she had any will of her own she'd be begging for him to fuck her, but she didn't have any will left. She noticed this as someone noticed a stain on an old sweater. Curious, but not a problem, and certainly not a time-sensitive one. She didn't even suck on it - he'd told her to put it in her mouth and that's what she did.

She found it curious, her own complete lack of independence. She wanted to test it, to try and defy it, but at the same time she was so comfortable just keeping it in her mouth, in keeping his warm thick cook deep in her mouth.

"You'd really do anything, wouldn't you?" he asked. He seemed surprised "Sorry, most girls stop at this stage. I doubled the dose on this last batch. Didn't think it'd work this well. Fuck, you're hot. Get up."

She did. He was sitting down with his dick straight in the air. "Turn around." She did. "Bend over, spread your cheeks, tell me how it feels." She turned, and bent, and she felt as he took his tongue into her asshole.

"Oh, it feels good. As I bent over I pushed my nipples against my bra and they're so... oh what's the word, like ..."

"Sensitive?"

"Yes, yes that... sensitive, it feels like I could come from that alone. I... oh god, your tongue. It feels like it feels good it just feels good you feel good and it makes me feel good."

"C'mon, tell me how you feel for real." He kept licking her as he circled her entrance with two fingers. "Tell me how you feel inside your head."

"I feel..." she tried to pinpoint it. "Good, and nice, and stupid, and you."

"Me?" he pushed his fingers inside her. "Touch yourself while you explain it."

"Just you I think of what I feel in my head and there's a big you and your voice and your fingers very big taking big space." She wasn't paying attention to her words. She could only feel as his fingers went in and out of her, as his tongue circled her asshole, as her hands found her nipples and twisted them between her fingers.