Obedient at home

The house looked the same.

White walls. Hardwood floors. The faint scent of lemon cleaner lingering in the air like stage perfume. The curtains had been drawn shut. I hadn’t done that. The light inside was soft, filtered. Not warm. Controlled.

Carl stepped inside ahead of me.

His shoes clicked once on the floor before he sighed and rolled his shoulders like a man home from a good day at work.

Me?

I stood in the doorway, shivering.

Everything felt off.

Not different, exactly, just… arranged.

Too clean.

Too still.

Carl turned, smiling at me like nothing had changed.

“You should be naked at home.”

Just like that.

Like he was suggesting we rearrange the furniture.

I blinked. “What?”

He tilted his head, amused. “It just feels more natural now, don’t you think?”

I opened my mouth, closed it again.

My skin prickled. Every nerve humming. My throat was dry.

And I didn’t know why.

A flash of memory surfaced, the hallway, the drink Clara gave me, the chair, the screen…

And then nothing.

Just… blank.

But after that?

That was when everything started feeling strange.

That was when the commands started making me wet.

That was when I started obeying without meaning to.

I swallowed.

“Carl,” I said slowly, “what did they do to me in that room?”

His smile didn’t waver.

He stepped toward me, unhurried.

“I don’t remember anything,” I said. “But I came out different. I know I did.”

Another step.

“This is my fault,” he said, voice soft. “I forgot. I’m not supposed to ask you anymore.”

I took a step back. My heel bumped the wall.

“What’s going on here,” I said. “You saw what happened to me. That, that wall, that man, the way I…”

“You obeyed,” he said.

Simple.

My chest tightened.

“Strip,” he added.

And my hands moved.

Not because I chose to.

Because they did.

“No,” I whispered.

But my fingers were already undoing the buttons at my collar.

“No, no, I’m not”

The dress slid from my shoulders.

Fell.

Pooled at my feet.

And I stood there.

Naked.

Trembling.

My nipples stiffened. My skin flushed.

I pressed my thighs together.

Because I was wet again.

Carl’s eyes moved over me, not lecherous. Just… satisfied.

He nodded.

And I whimpered.

Because my pussy clenched at the approval.

I wrapped my arms around myself, suddenly cold.

“Carl,” I said, almost begging. “Please tell me this is just temporary. That we’re just, just playing along until we get used to the town.”

He smiled.

Took another step.

Then he said, casually:

“Come here.”

And my feet moved.

One step. Then another.

Like gravity had shifted.

My breath grew shallow. My skin buzzed.

By the time I reached him, I was soaked again.

He sat on the couch.

Looked up at me, head tilted slightly.

“Good girl,” he said.

And I dropped.

My knees hit the floor like they belonged there.

My back straightened. My hands folded.

I didn’t mean to do it.

But I did.

Carl raised an eyebrow.

Then reached down.

Unzipped his pants.

Freed his cock.

It was already hard.

He didn’t stroke it. Didn’t need to.

“Please me,” he said.

I stared at it.

At him.

“No,” I whispered. “Carl, I, this isn’t me. I don’t do this. I’m not…”

“Please me,” he repeated.

My mouth opened.

Not to argue.

To obey.

My hands moved to his thighs. I leaned in.

The head of his cock brushed my lips.

I shivered.

This was wrong. I knew it.

But the heat in my gut spread like wildfire.

My tongue touched him.

I whimpered.

Because obeying felt so good.

He exhaled, resting one hand gently on my hair.

“That’s it,” he said. “You were made for this.”

I moaned around his cock.

My pussy clenched.

I hated him.

I loved him.

I hated myself for loving it.

But I didn’t stop.

I couldn’t.

Internal struggle

Later, the house was silent.

Carl had gone to bed.

I stood in the bathroom, staring at the mirror.

The woman staring back wasn’t me.

Her cheeks were flushed. Her hair messy. Her nipples still hard. Her thighs still sticky.

She looked…

Obedient.

I ran cold water.

Splashed my face.

It didn’t help.

I looked at myself again.

That room, that room Clara led me to. I remember entering it. I remember drinking something.

But after that?

Nothing.

Just… warmth.

Haze.

Then Carl speaking to me and my body moving before I’d heard the words.

I pressed a towel to my face.

My hand drifted down between my thighs.

Still wet.

Still soaked.

Just thinking of the word “Obey” made my clit throb.

I pressed harder.

I hated it.

I moaned.

What the fuck did they do to me?

I don’t remember what happened.

But I feel it.

Whatever it was, it’s inside me now.

Changing me.

Every time he orders me…

I melt.

I drop.

I serve.

And part of me still wants to scream.

But a louder part?

Wants to be told what to do.