Word Search

Author's note: This story was inspired by JukeboxEMSCA's excellent "Head Games."

Her smile was his first clue that he was in trouble. It was her predatory smile, the same smile he imagined a cat had when looking at a mouse.

She had a twisted, very sexy scheme to turn him into her mindless plaything. A little voice in his head mocked him: if you're so upset about it, why are you getting hard?

He couldn't answer that. Maybe she was secretly programming him to want to fall into her clutches. Her evil, alluring, entirely desirable clutches.

"Do you know what I came across online?" she asked, interrupting his thoughts.

"What?" he asked cautiously.

"I found a word search generator!" Her smile grew wider.

His guard lowered slightly. Word searches were innocuous. He did word searches in elementary school. So, if they were so innocent, why is she smiling so widely, the little voice asked.

"I made a special one just for you!" she said excitedly. She pulled the chair away from the table. "Have a seat."

He sat down. On the table before him was a white sheet of paper and a pencil.

She leaned over him. He felt her breast press into his shoulder. "It's important we find the words in a special order, though," she breathed into his ear.

"Okay," he said.

"The first word on the list is 'drowsy,'" she announced.

As soon as he heard the word, his eyelids fluttered. It was as though someone had attached weights to them. Try as he might, he could barely keep them open. It wasn't just his eyes that were heavy. His whole body was suddenly leaden in the chair.

"Are you having a little trouble concentrating?" she asked. Was that condescension in her tone? "Are all the words swimming in front of your eyes?"

The moment she said that, the words grew hazy and unfocused. "Huh?" he managed.

"It's right here," she said, pointing to the word. Her breast pressed into his shoulder harder. "You're probably so drowsy, it's hard for you to pick up the pen and circle it. I'll just do it for you." She emphasized the word "drowsy."

Another wave of tiredness washed over him. She placed the pencil in his hand and closed his fingers around it. Then, she guided his hand to the paper and circled the word.

"Let's try the next word, shall we?" He wasn't so tired that he couldn't hear the enthusiasm in her voice. "The next word is 'foggy.'"

A gray fog rolled across his field of vision. If the sheet had been difficult to see before, it was impossible now, lost in the mist.

"I hope you're not feeling foggy." Her voice in his ear was low and seductive. "You haven't circled it yet. I'll just do this one for you, too."

As before, she put the pencil in his hand and guided it to the page to circle the word. This time, before placing his arm on the table, she slowly traced a pattern along his knuckles. The fog thickened. So did his erection.

"Let's move onto the next word," she said in that same low, seductive tone. "The next word is 'aroused.'"

He shifted in his chair. His pants were now uncomfortably tight. He needed to get them off. If only he weren't so drowsy and foggy, he could simply undo his belt buckle and open his fly. His muscles were absolutely limp, though.

"Is that one too hard for you?" She wasn't even trying to be concerned now. Her voice dripped with condescension and lust.

His eyelids had lost the battle to stay open after the word "foggy." It was easier to close his eyes, to let the thick, gray mist swirl around his brain. He didn't need to look at the page anymore. The letters were hopelessly jumbled. He knew she would help him. She would guide his hand to where it needed to go. She would guide his erection where it needed to go.

He hoped she would hurry up with that. His pants were now getting quite uncomfortable. He shifted in the chair again. If his muscles weren't so limp, he would stroke himself. He moaned in frustration.

"Okay, we'll do one more word." Her voice sounded as though it was traveling over a great distance to reach his ear, yet he knew she was standing next to him. He could feel her breast pressing into his arm. "The last word is 'will.'"

She picked up his unresponsive hand, closed his fingers around the pencil, and circled the word. "This one might not seem like it fits in," she explained. "I'll tell you why I chose it, though. Your will belongs to me." She came around the chair to face him. "I decide when you're awake. I decide when you sleep. I decide when you're turned on. And I decide when you get to come."

He moaned in response. The little voice that had been so active earlier was now muted. Instead, he heard her voice. It was telling him what to think, what to do.

Right now, her voice was telling him to stand up and follow her into her bedroom. Next, it told him to stand still as she undressed him. Slowly. Teasingly. The voice told him that every time she touched him, he would feel warm pleasure. She traced her finger down his sternum. He moaned as liquid heat flowed through her finger.

Her voice told him to lay on the bed. The only position that he would be in is the one she chose for him. Tonight, he would lay underneath her, on his back, as she rode him.

"I tell you when to come," she panted as she bounced on top of him. "I, oh, I decide, oh! And I decide, ah, you can't come, ah, until I do!" She gasped.

If his eyes had been open, he would have seen her throw her head back, her breasts heave. He would have seen sweat glisten off their bodies. He would have loved watching her on top of him, bouncing up and down, her eyes half-closed in ecstasy, in triumph.

He didn't mind that his eyes were closed, though. He felt too good to care much about anything. The warm, liquid pleasure was flowing through his entire body now, not just his erection. He was being carried on a gentle wave of pure bliss. It began rising higher and higher, carrying him on a current. The current was rising. It was going to crash onto the shore. He had never been so excited to be swept away.

When he was allowed to reach his climax, he let out a soft moan. His body shuddered. The orgasm was so strong, his head lolled onto the mattress.

"Here's another word that was in the word search," she said shakily. "Sleep." And because she told him to, he did.