My eyelids fluttered, and I struggled to prop them open again.

“Not yet, silly.”

“Yes Sire.”

“Dawww, so obedient already.”

“Thrall loves to… I mean, I’m resisting! Yeah!”

He chuckled. “Of course you are. Because I said you can’t give in… yet.”

“Because I can resist!”

“Of course you can. Of course. You wouldn’t feel yourself getting pulled down, slowly but inexorably, if I started counting down from 10, now, would you?”

I whimpered. “Nope. Definitely not.”

“So you don’t feel yourself slipping a little when I say ‘9’, is that right?”

“That’s right.” I asserted, but I slurred a teeny bit.

“Thaaaaat’s right.” He purred, and the sound went through me like a warm wave. “And you feel even better at 8, I’m sure.”

“Sure.”

“But still resisting.”

“Yeah!”

“So then if I said 7, your eyes wouldn’t have trouble keeping from closing, then?”

“N-no.” They felt awfully heavy, but I resolutely struggled on.

“And six wouldn’t pull those eyelids down.”

“Noooo.” They were slits, but they were open.

“And at 5, still awake.”

“Mmm.”

“And 4.”

“Mhm.”

“3”

I couldn’t muster enough will to reply, so I just nodded.

“2”

Nod nod.

“2”

Whimper whine!

“Oh, ok, you poor thing. You can let go now. 1, drop.”

And I fell into bliss.