“You want me to what?”

I giggle idiotically as the tension breaks, ran through by that simple question, spat from my girlfriend Luna’s lips, as harsh and shocked as anything I’ve ever heard from her.

Not that it’s a surprise, of course, given what I’m asking.

“I want you to cheat on me,” I affirm, lips wet. “With Ivy.”

The proposal thunders through our quiet apartment. Even though we’re right next to each other on the couch, I sense her shrink from me, disgusted. Luna looks down, quiet for a long moment.

“I can’t believe you would ever ask me to do something like that,” Luna says quietly.

In truth, I can’t either. It strains against the bounds of my self-image, distorted as those already were by insecurity and anxiety. A singular truth is impossible to escape: I didn’t have to ask for this. Nobody could force me. Ivy told me to, yes, but she isn’t here. I could have lied to her. I could have openly defied her. I could have done anything else.

Instead, I’m ruining my relationship at her command.

Because she’s superior, and I’m inferior.

I know, of course, that she’s been drugging me. Knowing that doesn’t help. After all, I also know that I’m not drugged right now. I’m in full possession of myself. I’m acting according to my own will. And if Ivy and her drug have permanently stamped themselves onto my will… well, that simply further attests to my complete, total, pathetic abjection. I am now the version of myself she has revealed to me, all the harder to deny because it so perfectly echoes the shrunken, helpless, subservient girl I was in college.

There’s no escape. There never was. In my heart of hearts, I know this above all—and I thank Ivy for showing it to me.

“I’m sorry,” I say to Luna—mostly just to break the silence.

Her eyes turn up at me, and they’re filled with scorn. She can see: I’m not sorry. Not really.

Because I want this.

That’s the other reason I can’t bring myself to resent Ivy for instructing me to bring Luna to her bed. I want this, plain and simple. It’s not that any of my initial horror at the concept has dimmed. Instead, it’s simply that it’s lit a twisted spark in me that has grown and grown at Ivy’s goading, driven ever-deeper into my drugfucked skull by taunts and commands given to me as I fuck myself for Ivy’s pleasure on the floor of my nice corporate office.

Now, after a few days, having Luna stolen away from me has cemented its place as foremost among my fantasies. It consumes me completely, burning between my legs like a fever. I can’t keep myself from replaying every little detail of that evening the two of them first met. The way Luna looked at Ivy. The way she laughed at her jokes. The way she was so impressed with her. The way she kept leaning in, attentive, eager.

Fuck. I’m already wet again.

It was both agony and ecstasy—but it’s not enough. I need more.

I’d beg both of them for more.

“I just…” Luna squeezes the bridge of her nose. It’s like she doesn’t even want to look at me. “Why? That’s what I don’t get. Why? I thought things were finally going to get better between us. And then… this.”

“They will,” I promise feebly. Falsely. I’d say anything to get my cuckold’s fix. God, I’m pathetic. “I just… um… I thought you might… be open to the idea?”

Clearly, the wrong thing to say. Luna looks at me like I’ve just slapped her.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she demands.

“You just…” I grope around. “It seemed like you and Ivy were really… getting along.”

Worse and worse. “Christ, Olive!” Luna explodes at me. “Is that really what you think of me? I thought we talked about this when we started dating! We set boundaries! We’re monogamous. I’m starting to think only one of us is taking that seriously.”

“T-that’s not…” I spluttered. This was all going wrong. I had been hoping I’d be able to do this the decent way. “It’s just… I mean, don’t you think she’s hot?”

Somehow, Luna senses my warped intentions. Somehow, even though this is all new to her, she understands exactly what I’m fishing for with the question.

Fetish fuel.

“Gross,” she murmurs, scandalized.

The look in her eyes pierces right through me. I understand, in that moment, that I’m losing something forever. A measure of Luna’s respect. She might be willing to pretend this never happened, if I ask, but she’ll never actually forget it. If there was any part of my life that had been kept safe from Ivy, trapped, kept idyllic like a scene in a snow globe, it was my relationship with Luna. Now here I am, poisoning even that. As it shatters, the shards rain down on me, and the fresh knowledge of how fragile it always was makes them bite all the deeper.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

I’m ashamed. I really am. Luna’s scorn is like cold water, drenching my face. But somehow the shock doesn’t bring with it any clarity, any sanity. Instead, it’s like a baptism. It feels rapturous.

Finally. Finally, Luna sees me the way I really am.

Inferior.

Like that night with Ivy, at the bar, it’s a first taste that has me instantly hooked. As one voice at the back of my head screams at me to stop this, to stop ruining my life, another drives me to push harder, to debase myself further.

How disgusted can I make Luna? Can I get her to look at me the way Ivy does? The way I truly deserve?

I’d love to pretend that voice is Ivy’s. But it’s not. It’s my own.

“I just…” Luna attempts, “can’t understand why you’d ask me something like that. You love me, don’t you?”

I nod.

“Then… why do you want to see me fucking somebody else?” Luna throws up her hands in despair, whilst I shiver with appalling eagerness. “I don’t get it, Olive! I mean, I can’t even imagine wanting something like that. And… god, why even call it ‘cheating’ if you’re going to ask? It makes it sound so…”

She wants an explanation. She wants this to make sense. I’m not sure I can offer her that. What could I possibly say? How could I possibly explain the force that’s bending my back; an overwhelming, cosmic need to bend every part of my life into the rightful shape Ivy has shown me?

“I just…” I flail uselessly. “I need it.”

“To… be… satisfied?” Luna suggests, for want of a real answer. “Sexually?”

It’s so much more than that—but I just nod.

“Right.” Luna sighs, and sags. “So, um, it’s basically a fetish. Right?”

Again, I nod. I suppose that’s not inaccurate, at this point.

“Wow.” Luna relaxes a little. Even smiles, very slightly. “I… I had no idea you were into that kind of thing, Olive.”

She seems faintly comforted. It’s just a fetish. Just a sick, twisted little fetish. Nothing to worry about. She can wrap her head around a fetish, however gross, and however vanilla our barely extant sex life is. I sense Luna’s disgust for me abate, and I almost regret letting her see it that way.

“That’s… really out there, though. Wow.” Luna shakes her head. “Have you… always…?”

“It’s… more of a recent thing, I guess.” Not untrue.

“Right.” She nods her head. Not a longstanding secret. Another comfort.

“So, um…” Need needles at me. As much as I should let it settle, I must press her. “Do you think… maybe…”

That earns me a sharp look. I can’t help but relish it. “God, Olive,” she says quietly. “Just give me a moment here.”

I do. A series of looks passes over Luna’s face. It’s like she’s trying to imagine what it would be like. She really is trying, for my sake. Eventually, though, the expression that sticks is plain, clear repulsion.

“No,” Luna says, with an air of sobering finality. “I’m sorry, Olive-  or, no, I’m not sorry. No. This is just a boundary for me. We’re exclusive. That’s something we agreed on, and I never want to break with that. Even if it’s with your permission. I just… don’t think that’s something I can ever feel comfortable with.” She glances at me. Her reproach softens. “Sorry.”

I’m broken-hearted—but not for the reasons she thinks. What’s eating at me isn’t disappointment or dissatisfaction. It’s the foreshock of exquisite shame and guilt beyond any I’ve yet known.

“Um…” Luna ventures anxiously. “You can be OK with that. Right?”

“Yeah,” I lie.

“Good.” Luna looks at me very seriously. “Don’t ask me again. I… I don’t care what kind of porn you look at, or what kind of fantasies you enjoy. But I really want to pretend this conversation never happened. Understand?”

I nod eagerly. “Of course.” She smiles at me. I return the gesture. “Hey,” I suggest. “How about you sit right here while I go make us some tea?”

“That sounds really good right now,” Luna agrees, trembling slightly as the tension of confrontation fades. “Thanks.”

I’m all nods and smiles—all the way into the kitchen and out of her sight. Then, I just barely manage to set the kettle boiling before I slump over the nearest counter, overwhelmed by something halfway between blinding panic and delirious arousal.

I can’t believe what I’m about to do.

I can’t do this to Luna, can I?

But I can. I will. I know I’m going to.

I have to. Otherwise, Luna won’t cheat on me with Ivy, and that’s more important than anything.

It’s what’s best for her, too. I know that now. Luna can’t see that for herself, so I have to help her. Ivy knows how to treat a woman. She knows how to show Luna a good time. Better than I ever will, that’s for sure.

I’m just a girl. Luna deserves a woman.

It’s for the best.

I tell myself that, like I’m doing something altruistic. Like I’m not soaking my panties at the prospect.

Ah, I’m the worst. I’m pathetic. Beyond pathetic. Beyond inferior. I’m a spectator, and that’s all I’ll ever be. Not someone who does. Someone who watches. And I want to watch so, so bad. I get off on watching, just like I get off on sending Ivy money.

The worst. And I’ve already betrayed Luna so deeply. I don’t deserve her.

But Ivy does.

She deserves to take everything for me.

The kettle boils. With unsteady hands, I pour into two mugs. Then I reach into my pocket, and retrieve the object Ivy gave to me when she left work earlier.

A pill.

I know exactly what it is. Ivy told me as much, in no uncertain terms.

It’s the drug she’s been dosing me with, whenever she needs to hammer home my utter, abject subjection to her will.

And it’s the drug I’m going to dose Luna with.

That’s what Ivy told me to do. I don’t have to. Just like asking Luna to cheat on me—I don’t have to. Ivy isn’t here to look over my shoulder and egg me on. I could defy her. I could lie to her, if necessary. Try to worm my way out of it. Instead, as her words swim in my head, as I feel her great presence above me, looming over me, looking down on me, I…

I twist the two halves of the pill apart and let the white powder fall into Luna’s tea.

In just a few moments, it’s dissolved. Invisible. Now there’s no going back.

At least, that’s what I tell myself, as I pick up both mugs of tea and start to bring them back out to my girlfriend. There’s no going back.

Is that really true?

I could pour the tea out. Drop the mug. I could tell Luna. I could confess everything. Maybe she’d understand. Maybe she’d be able to save me from Ivy.

But then I’d never again experience the privilege of being able to kneel before Ivy, and kiss her feet, and suck her cock, and finger my worthless cunt for her amusement. I’d be back to pretending to be a normal, regular person, just like everybody else.

That just wouldn’t be right.

I’m inferior. I know it. Everybody should know it. That knowledge has transformed me. It has infected me with base, disgusting needs. I need to send my hard-earned money to a superior woman. I need to work long, punishing hours to make up for the insolence of pretending I ever stood above Ivy in the corporate hierarchy.

I need to be cheated on.

That’s why I can’t go back.

“Here you go,” I say, as I put Luna’s mug down in front of her, keeping a pleasant smile plastered to my face in the hopes of hiding the way my hands are shaking from nauseous excitement.

“Thanks.” Luna notices my shakiness right away—but she doesn’t see it as suspicious. She grips my hand reassuringly. “I love you, Olive.”

“I love you too, Luna.”

The words feel like treason, coming out of my mouth. They make my blood burn in my veins. I’m a storm of conflicting urges. In one instant, as Luna lifts her mug and blows across it, I’m a heartbeat away from slapping it out of her hand. In another, I’m utterly placid, virtually entranced by the sight of the drugged substance in her cup, all but drooling at the prospect of her drinking it.

“I was thinking, um…” As she speaks, Luna brings the mug to her lips, all but touching it as she judges the temperature. “Maybe we could… I don’t know, try to spice things up a bit? Pick up a few, uh, toys? I think there’s a store, actually, just a few blocks away. Perhaps we could go together, sometime? I mean, I’m not really sure what I’d… but, well, it doesn’t seem like a bad idea.”

She’s trying. She’s really trying to offer me an olive branch.

And all I can think about is what’s going to happen when she takes a sip. About how awful it’s going to feel. About how good it’s going to feel.

Ivy really did a number on me, didn’t she? I’m a twisted knot of fetishes and incapacities.

And now Luna will…

“N-no!” I blurt out stupidly.

Luna pauses, surprised by my desperate tone. Lowers her cup. “You don’t want to?”

The pendulum swings back the other way. Ivy’s grip binds down tight around my mind.

“N-no, um…” I blather, feverish. “I m-meant… no, it’s n-not a bad idea.”

“Oh, right.” Luna relaxes again. I’m acting weird, obviously—but is that really a surprise? “Soon, then. Maybe the weekend?”

“Uh-huh,” I pant.

She’s lifting her cup again. Blowing on the hot tea again.

And then…

She drinks.

I twitch. I squeeze my legs tight together. It takes everything I have not to moan.

Partly, it’s that I know exactly what it feels like. I know exactly how quickly Ivy’s drug works to dull the wits and slow the mind. I know how completely and effortlessly it can break someone. As I watch Luna sipping her hot tea, I can just imagine Ivy’s presence entering her. Infecting her.

And Ivy isn’t even here.

It’s just me. I am a tool of Ivy Robinson’s will.

Fuck, that’s so hot. The thought that I could serve as an extension of such a superior woman. Surreptitiously, I slip a hand down my front and start massaging myself through my pants.

It’s OK. A few moments, and Luna will be too far gone to notice.

“Any ideas about what kind of…” Luna pauses to take a larger sip of tea. “Of…” She looks at her tea and frowns. “This tastes a little… did you use some kind of… artificial sweetener?”

There it is. In her voice. That spaciness. It makes my brain catch, and my body boil.

“D-don’t worry about it,” I pant, my unnatural, fetishistic lust drooling out in my voice. “It’s nothing to worry about.”

“Nothing to… worry about…” Luna echoes.

Fuck.

“T-take another sip,” I encourage. I can’t help it. “You’ll like it.”

Luna sips absently. “Like it…” she echoes. “Another…” Another sip.

With barely a hint of resistance, she’s gone. In the grip of the drug.

In the grip of my words.

My heart is pounding. Luna has never been more mine. I could say anything to her. Do anything with her.

If I warn her about Ivy now, she’ll be safe from her forever. She’ll trust me implicitly regarding the danger, and what Ivy’s made me do. Even now, this is salvageable.

Or, of course, I could do as Ivy would. I could have my way with Luna. I love her, of course, but like any relationship, ours has its little frictions and incompatibilities. Those could be a thing of the past. I could make her dote on me eternally. I could make her perform my every little fantasy. My every deep-seated fetish.

It would be wrong, obviously. But in a position like this, who wouldn’t be tempted? In a way, it would be like beating Ivy. Plucking the fruit she’s drooling over before she has a chance to take a beat. I’d feel so superior. So powerful.

And it would be so easy. Luna is sitting right there, placid and vacant, sipping at her drugged tea. She’s yet to even realize what’s happening to her.

All I need to do is lean over and whisper in her ear, and she’ll be mine forever.

“Y-you,” I drool pathetically, as my fingers find their way inside my panties. “Y-you think Ivy Robinson is t-the hottest woman in the world.”

“The… world?” Luna’s eyes widen. There’s the faintest hint of shock at what I’m saying, but it’s quickly swept away by the sheer hyperbole of my statement. Most wouldn’t take it quite so literally, but in the grip of the drug, Luna’s usual mental filters take a back seat. “H-hot…”

As the meat of the suggestion dawns on her, pink taints her pretty cheeks.  Mine are already dark red, and Luna’s arousal quickens the pace of my fingers.

“S-so hot,” I breathe. “You’d… hgng… do a-anything for a chance with her.”

“A… chance? With… her?” It escapes Luna’s soft, parted lips like a sigh of longing. It’s only natural; to her—and to me—Ivy’s the hottest woman in the world. “A… anything?”

She’s less certain about that. Her reluctance tugs at my heartstrings. It makes me think twice about what I’m doing.

Unfortunately, it also just makes giving in to Ivy even hotter.

“Anything,” I affirm. The repetition sinks it twice as deep into her psyche. “Even… g-god…” I can barely choke it out through intermingled shame and pleasure. “E-e-even cheat on me!”

“C-cheat?” A frown threatens to break over Luna’s placid face. She twitches, fighting to rouse herself. Swimming against the current. “N… no… t-that-“

“Yes,” I insist, eagerness driving me. “You’d c-cheat on me. W-with—fuck—Ivy!”

I need it. I need it so much. It’ll feel so right.

“B-but… but…” Luna is settling again. The force of my words have her bound in a knot. “Nnnot…”

I’ve been there, so I know exactly what’s going on in her head. I know that a new conviction is warring against an old one—and winning. Finding Ivy hot should mean nothing compared to Luna’s deep-seated aversion to unfaithfulness. It would on any other day. But today, with Ivy’s drug in her system, her entire system of values is softening and warping. Not cheating on me is becoming less and less important to her, and simultaneously, Ivy’s sheer animal magnetism is looming large in her mind.

I know how deep it goes. It’s not just about one decision. Luna’s becoming the kind of person who might cheat on their partner, if the other woman was hot enough.

And I’m here to put my thumb on the scales.

“You think,” I pant, my voice a breathy, creepy, perverted whimper, “c-cheating on me with Ivy is hot.”

Luna twitches. It’s like she’s shaking her head—but blushing, too.

“R-really hot!” It explodes out of me. A vile, humiliating need. God, my panties are soaked.

“Really… hot?” She can’t stop it washing over her. I can tell. Her eyes widen. A new fetish is born inside her.

What am I doing? Why am I ruining the woman I love like this?

Because I have to. Because I need to. Because Ivy’s superior, and she told me to.

Because more than anything else, I want Luna to cheat on me.

“You w-want to cheat on me.” The sound of my wetness as my fingers plunge in and out of my dripping cunt soils my words.

“Cheat… want?” Luna’s still twitching—but somewhere along the line, the shakes of her head became nods.

“Yes!” I seize on her implicit agreement. “You want to cheat on me. You want to c-cuck me.”

Ivy taught me that word. People call it that as a fetish, apparently. Luna seems to recognize it the same way; a sharp gasp escapes her lips.

“C-cuck… yeah,” she hisses. Her body is tense. Flushed.

“Cheating on me with Ivy is so—fucking—hot,” I pant, stringing it all together. “So hot you’d do a-anything.”

“Anything,” Luna drools, nodding emphatically. “Anything.”

That’s it. It’s part of her now.

She wants to cheat on me.

She’ll cheat on me.

That’s what Ivy told me to ensure. But I can’t stop here.

“Ivy i-is better than me!” I bleat, masturbating furiously. “I-Ivy will make you feel  b-better than I can.”

“Better… than…” Luna turns her head to look at me, just slightly. Beneath the glassy haze in her eyes, a new emotion forms. A kind of pity. “Oh…”

For just a moment, I white-out. I cum all over my fingertips. This feels perfect. This feels inevitable. Sharing the truth Ivy taught me with Luna, at long last, drives me into an ecstatic frenzy.

“S-so much better!” I scream. “I-I can’t even compare to her. She’s j-just so much hotter.”

Nothing has ever been as twisted or as beautiful to me as the way pity and contempt begin to taint Luna’s drug-addled face, even as her body begins to heave with longing for Ivy. It’s a car crash. I have to drink it all in. Every jagged angle, every crumpled surface.

And I’m the one behind the wheel.

“Ivy is i-incredible,” I babble through my ongoing orgasm, slumped back against the couch, desperately fingering myself. “S-superior! Superior to m-m-me.”

“Superior…” Luna echoes breathily. “Incredible.”

I’m a sweaty, gross, soaked mess, hunched over, rubbing my cunt, but Luna’s incapable of registering that. She remains calm and placed, overwhelmed by the picture I’m painting. By the words I’m writing into her head.

By her newfound adulation for Ivy Robinson.

“Perfect!” I scream, an ejaculation, bursting from me. I need Luna to see the world like I do. I need to show her the worst parts of myself, so that she understands. “N-n-nothing like me.”

Luna nods. She understands. I can see her joining the dots. If Ivy is perfect because she’s nothing like me, then I’m…

“F-f-fuck,” I whimper, feverish. I’m making myself cum again and again and again to my own abasement, and each orgasm worsens my delirium. “Y-you love me, but you’ll never forget Ivy’s b-better!”

“I love you,” Luna tells me slowly, absently.

It sounds different from usual. Fully loving, yes, but poisoned by the other woman who now looms large in her thoughts. She loves me, but she’s thinking about somebody else. She’s more impressed by somebody else.

I cum again.

And again.

And again.

“C-cheat on me!” I find myself begging pathetically, after saying goodness knows what else. “I… I f-fucking deserve it!”

Luna nods. She can’t stop nodding. She’s like one of those ridiculous dashboard toys as I indelibly mark her mind with my sickest urges. I need to stop. I know I need to stop. This is going way too far. Farther even than Ivy instructed. But I can’t help it. I’m out of control. The fantasies that are filling my head are so sharp and biting they leave me blind to any restraint, to any caution.

“You l-love cheating!” I moan deliriously, and cum yet again as Luna nods.

“Cheating… love,” she echoes. There’s no longer any hint of resistance, just a certain, breathy eagerness—suppressed beneath the drug, like everything else, but palpable enough to make me even more crazed.

“You w-want Ivy to s-s-steal you from meeee,” I whine.

Luna nods. An awful light is breaking through from behind her glassy eyes.

“I’m ju-ust a spectator! And sheeee’s a p-player!” I bleat, pouring Ivy’s twisted, degrading ideology from my broken brain into hers. “And y-you love it!”

Is she flushed? I can’t tell. I hope so. But compared to me, she still looks immaculate. She’s not a sweating, exhausted, slovenly mess of a girl like me. Luna is so calm and still. She looks beautiful. God, my girlfriend is so beautiful. In that moment, something innocent comes over me, and I just want to reach out and touch her. Maybe even just stroke her face.

But I can’t.

That’s not for me.

It’s for Ivy.

At once, images flood my mind. Ivy, touching Luna’s cheek with the intimacy of a lover. Ivy, kissing her. Ivy, undressing her. Ivy, bent over her. Ivy, plowing into her with her superior cock. Ivy, putting moans into Luna’s mouth and her name on her lips. Ivy, turning my girlfriend into the very opposite of the pure, faithful, loyal, immaculate woman I love.

Ivy, shutting the door to our bedroom in my face, while Luna flashes me a smug, contemptuous smirk.

“Y-you… eager… cheating… b-bitch!” I scream, as my fingers plunge into myself one last time, bringing my bliss to a dizzying, orgasmic peak.

This orgasm is the one to last. It doesn’t fade quickly. It lingers, my every heartbeat breaking a fresh wave of it across my body. I’ve never been quite so utterly, feverishly high on pleasure, not even with my lips wrapped around Ivy’s perfect cock. It’s all-consuming. I lose time from it. I can’t tell whether I pass out or not.

Either way, once it recedes, my filthy appetites have finally had their fill. The fetish Ivy gave to me is sated, for the moment. But post-orgasmic clarity brings with it no comfort. Only horror.

I look at Luna.

What have I done to her?

It’s too late for regrets. I know that. I know Ivy’s drug is potent. Perhaps even permanent. I consider trying to brainwash Luna back to normal again before it wears off, as absurd as that sounds, but both fatigue and Ivy’s iron commands prevent me. Instead, fucked stupid by my own fingers and fantasies, I simply sit there, watching, waiting for Luna to come to.

Praying that all the vile, perverted impulses I bequeathed to her don’t take.

It’s possible, right? Ivy’s drug is potent, but not all-powerful. After the first time, I was still able to push back a little. I remember that, even if I can’t help but consider my earlier resistance to be deluded hubris. I’m sure one exposure isn’t enough to warp Luna on any deep level. She’s strong. She’s principled! She was furious at me earlier for even suggesting that she and Ivy hook up.

Yes. That Luna will find her way back to me. I’m sure of it.

I cling to that hope—and when Luna eventually stirs, as if waking from sleep, and looks at me, my heart swells at the smile on her face. It’s so genuine. So joyful. It reaches her eyes, which are full of simple delight at seeing me.

She’s in love with me, and utterly pleased with me. It’s so obvious.

I should never have been so worried.

That’s what I think, right up until her smile twists into something devilish and knowing. And all too late, I realize that it’s not me Luna is so pleased with.

It’s what I had just been begging her for.

“Hey,” Luna says as she licks her lips, in a voice altogether unfamiliar to me. My one final, desperate hope is that when I look into Luna’s eyes, I’ll still see them clouded and addled by the drug—but no. They’re perfectly sharp, and unmistakably lustful. “Actually… you have Ivy’s number, right?”

I thought I was done. I really did. I thought my body’s needs were completely expended. But on hearing that, I cum treasonously in my panties one last time.