“Up, up, up,” she says, gently pulling on your chin with her finger. 

You blink, taking in the room again. The trance you’re emerging from is hazy and distant although it's hard to care much as you look into your partner’s eyes. She’s smiling wickedly at you, searching your face for something. 

“How are you feeling, pet?” she asks, still intently focused on you.

“Good,” you mewl. “A little groggy and fuzzy, but really good. I don’t remember much though.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” she says. Her tone is comforting, but there’s a commanding edge to it. You blink back at her. Were you saying something? “Good, pet,” she says. “Here, drink this.” 

She slips a glass of water into your hand, and you reflexively take a long draw. You look at the glass quizzically. It tastes slightly salty, almost soapy. “Does this..” you murmur, confused. 

“Don’t worry about it.” You hardly notice her take the glass from your hand and set it on the table. “You’re really cute when you’re dopey and spacey you know.” 

You flush. You’re suddenly feeling a little woozy and lightheaded. It’s not just the trance either, it’s getting more intense not less, and a moment ago you were beginning to feel clear-headed. Something is nagging at the back of your mind. There’s an explanation, but you can’t puzzle it out. 

“So tell me about the show next month.” 

You perk up instantly, “Oh my god, it’s a fucking Matrix themed…” You have to place a hand to your head as you sit up. The dizziness is hitting you even harder. “...like everyone is supposed to come dresss’d in all black.” You stop and giggle. Why are you slurring? Why is it funny that you’re slurring? “An’ that… ummmm wha’s her name’s going to be there.” You shake your head; it feels like it’s full of cotton. 

“Sounds like fun,” she says as she slides closer to you. You gasp as you feel her fingers climb up your thigh. 

You’re turned on. Painfully so. There’s an odd moment of dissociation where you note that you shouldn’t be this turned on.

Her hand climbs further, and you buck into her before even thinking about it. You realize you’re laughing at the strangeness of it all. You shake your head, pulling your focus together as best you can. You try to bring the faint buzz of anxiety at the back of your mind to the fore. Something is wrong. You glance at the glass. “You… the driiin…” 

“Yeah?” she leans over you. Gripping your jaw with one hand, the other still teasing between your legs, she guides your head, forcing you to meet her gaze. “Don’t worry about it,” she says firmly, all trace of comfort gone. You moan in confusion and lust. 

Something is wrong. You were about to say something–something important. You try to get up but you’re too dizzy. You don’t even make it out of her grip. 

“Uh, uh, uh,” she chides. “You’re in no condition to go anywhere.” Tightening her grip, she pulls your face next to her and stares you down, “You’re staying right here.” Your heart pounds. She pushes you away and releases her grip, and you fall into the couch. Your whole world is reeling and spinning. Bizarrely, you feel good. Really good. You’re laughing again. 

“Good pet,” she coos, as she unbuttons your jeans. “Such a good toy for me to use.” The buzz of anxiety is getting lost again in your arousal. You want her to fuck you–to use you. She yanks off your pants, pulling you further towards her on the couch, slamming your head back down onto the couch in the process. You have to close your eyes to keep the room from spinning. 

Before you can collect yourself, you feel her mouth between your legs. She’s greedily running her tongue across your sex. You moan. You’re aching so hard it hurts. “That’s right,” she growls. “Gods, you’re so hot. I’ve been wanting to fuck this,” she grips your sex applying a few hard strokes, “all night.”  

She swings a leg over you. You gasp as you feel her mount your hips and begin to grind. “Fuck yes,” she moans, “Gods, you look so hot–helpless and blushy.” A high gasp of pleasure escapes her lips as she grinds harder into you. Another voice is moaning with her. It takes you a moment to realize it’s yours. 

The spinning has subsided enough for you to open your eyes. You see her hips grinding against yours and realize with a rush just how good it feels. You spasm, and arch your back, and gasp. You can feel the pleasure rippling across your entire body, drowning out the remaining buzz of anxiety. 

She notices your open eyes and meets your gaze. “What a good little toy,” she says, reaching down to grip your hair, lifting your head with a shake. ”You don’t have to worry about a thing, baby. Just let me use you to get off.” 

She increases her pace, and your eyes begin to roll back. Before they can, she shakes your head, hard. “No.” she says firmly. “I wanna see that desperate…” she hisses in pleasure, still riding you, “...little expression of yours.” You gasp and moan in shock and pleasure. “That’s it,” she growls between her own moans, “Gods you look so hot–all glassy eyed and confused. Just relax, baby.” 

You’re held in place, but you feel like you’re spinning again. Looping end over end. Feeling her grind against you, seeing her shift and move, the reeling dizziness–the sensations are too much. Your eye roll back. 

—---------------

You’re lying on your side on the couch. Something was happening a moment ago, but your memory is hazy. A dull throb in your head and woozy sensation is all you’re able to summon up. Looking down you notice you’re naked. Your thighs and stomach are sticky, still glistening slightly. 

You up at your partner. She’s smiling knowingly. 

“What happened?” 

“Don’t worry about it.”