Paige knew she should have never accepted that friend request from Brett.

It had been at least a decade and a half since they had last spoken and her ex-girlfriend Brett had certainly been a…darker time in her life. But after her divorce, Paige was trying to be better about letting the past go and giving people the benefit of the doubt. Her boundaries were much better now too than when she was younger. There was no way she would let Brett pull the shit she did when they were in their 20s.

Also, Paige remembered, even though things with Brett had gotten pretty toxic, there were certainly good times too. Paige had enjoyed Jeff’s steady calmness, but he was also a bit...unexciting.  She had to admit that it was often Brett she pictured when she and Jeff were in bed together. 

Brett grabbing and pulling her hair.

Brett teasing her pussy until she finally, finally cried.

Brett reminding her over and over again that she was nothing but Brett’s helpless, brainwashed toy. 

Paige even still had some of the videos of their sessions- some private and some that they sold online for some extra money. She had shown Jeff these at one point early in their marriage but his reaction had been…less than enthused. After that, she had kept the videos to herself- as a sexy, slightly shameful secret for when she really needed to get herself off.

So- yes. Even though she had sworn not to make contact with Brett a million times, she ultimately accepted her friend request. 

Almost immediately after accepting, Brett had messaged her. They started to chat.

In a way, it was like old times. The good part of old times. Their rapport, even over text, was still electric. They quickly caught up on their lives. Paige told Brett about her marriage and divorce and her job as a gallery owner. Brett had somehow managed to go legit and was a well-regarding hypnotherapist now- apparently either she had managed to hide her porn past from her clients and colleagues or they just didn’t care. She had broken up with her long-term girlfriend a few months ago but had a pretty cute dog as a companion.

After a few days of chatting, Brett had suggested that they meet up for dinner at her new house in the city to catch up in-person. 

Paige had felt some reservations, but tried to ignore them. She reminded herself that she was working on being more open. Brett had been nothing but kind and thoughtful since they reconnected and had not even hinted at their past problems. Paige also had a much stronger sense of herself now than she had when she was younger. There were so many ways that Brett had tried to manipulate her previously that definitely wouldn’t work on her now. If Brett DID try anything, Paige knew that she could just leave.

And when she showed up for dinner, Brett hadn’t tried anything. Paige listened for any tell-tale changes in her words or voice as she showed her around her huge new house but- nope, Brett was just making jokes about decorating. (Hypnotherapy must be paying WELL these days, Paige noted to herself.) She also hadn’t tried anything over dinner. It didn’t hurt that she was just as handsome as Paige had remembered her.  In fact, things felt so comfortable that Paige let herself have a glass of wine. Even then, Brett remained perfectly respectful. As Paige prepared to go, she let Brett escort her to the door and help her put on her coat. 

See? She told herself. This was fine. She felt ashamed that she had assumed that Brett would still be the same person she was when they were kids. She had under-

est-

im-

maaaaaaaa..

Darkness.

-------------------------

Paige woke up. 

At first she was confused. She was sitting in a chair in a small dark space. She tried to move her hands and feet, but was unsurprised when she noted that  they were tied tight.  She turned her head to look around  and saw Brett, lurking and smiling smugly at her from her corner.

“Up already, huh?” she asked. She rose from her chair. “Good- I thought I had gone a little too heavy on the dose.”

People never changed, thought Paige. “Fuck you,” she spat. “Let me go.”

Brett chuckled. “I mean- clearly I’m not going to, right? I know you feel like you have to say that, but…”

“I’m not playing with you, Brett,” said Paige. “I’m not stupid. I told my friend to expect me home in exactly three hours. I’m supposed to check in with her that I’m safe.”

“Or, what? She’ll call the cops?” Brett asked. “I’d bet she waits until at least tomorrow morning before that happens. And by that time, you’ll be much happier to tell them  that you just fell for my considerable charms again and decided to stay the night. That you were too….distracted to text.” She grinned. 

Brett  walked over to the chair and started stroking Paige’s hair. “Besides,” she murmured, “I very much doubt that strong, independent Paige actually asked anyone for help. You haven’t changed THAT much. You also,” she continued, “have been telling me all about how lonely and isolated you’ve been feeling. That’s why you accepted my request in the first place, isn’t it?”

Paige sputtered. “I didn’t say anything about…”

“You didn’t have to say it explicitly,” said Brett. “I can read you pretty well. And you’re still so easy to lead with little questions and insinuations- you’re so responsive to those. You never quite realize all the information that you’re giving to me, do you? Especially when a part of you wants SO much to cooperate...”

Paige felt confused. Was that true?

“I-” 

“QUIET, TOY!” Brett growled suddenly in her ear.

Paige felt her words stop. Her thoughts sputtered and silenced. 

Wait, no!  she thought after a second of quiet. She found her voice. “I’m not 25 anymore, Brett! I’m not going to play along with your little kink games the way I did….”

Brett yanked her hair.

Oh!

Please! Paige’s traitorous mind whispered. 

No! she firmly commanded herself. Out loud, she yelled “STOP IT!”

In response, Brett muffled her mouth with her hand. The hand was quickly and smoothly replaced with a gag before Paige could even think to resist it.

Paige tried to kick her with what little slack there was in the ropes.

She missed. 

She felt Brett’s breath near her ear before even hearing the sound of her voice. (Her hypnotist voice, Paige’s mind eagerly reminded her.)  “Now Paige,” it cooed, “you know this doesn’t have to be difficult for either of us. You remember, right? You’re already mine, deep down. All you need to do is relax and remember your place.”

There was a clicking sound. A screen lowered right in front of her face. Paige instinctively tried to move her head but Brett effortlessly held it in place.

On the screen, Paige expected to see a spiral or some other graphic but- no. It was one of their old videos. One she had kept in that secret file on her computer away from her husband. 

A resistance play scene.

Fuck, she thought.

Brett must have seen her expression. (Brett saw everything.) “You remember this one, don’t you? It feels good to give in sometimes, but it also feels good to fight, doesn’t it? That’s Ok. I’ve got you. You know I won’t let you fail. You can fight just as much as you need to exhaust yourself for me. “

On the screen, a younger Paige was fighting. She was trying to move her head away from Brett’s grasp on her hair but- she was already losing. Brett was talking about how good it felt to give in…

“You know you inevitably give in to me, don’t you?” said the voice in her ear. “Such a good toy. So fun to  wind you up and let you go. You’re weakening now, though. Can’t you see it?”

Paige’s mirror image on screen was already starting to blink more heavily. Paige remembered exactly how that felt. She tried in vain to keep her own eyes from blinking in response. 

Another screen lowered, this one a little more to her right. As the first screen continued to show her failing to resist Brett’s words, the second showed her looking rapturously up into Brett’s eyes. “Weak and helpless,” her voice repeated over and over again, dreamily. “Weak and helpless.” Her face was slack and peaceful.

Weak and helpless, Brett’s mind echoed. She remembered. She knew how good it felt to be weak and helpless for Brett.  She began to feel a bit floaty.  Brett’s voice continued in the background reminding her of how blissful it was to relax and give in.

She absently turned her head to the other side but- there was already another video playing there. This one was showing her moaning while eating Brett’s pussy. The wet, licking sounds were highlighted on the soundtrack along with Brett’s voice praising her. She told her over and over what a good, brainwashed  toy she was.

Paige felt those old familiar waves of pleasure- an old conditioned response to being praised.

More screens were lowered and all of a sudden Paige was surrounded. By Brett’s voice, commanding her and hypnotizing her and reminding her of how good that felt. Of her own voice, panting and moaning and reciting mantras of obedience over and over. Of images of herself looking blissful and used and utterly gone. They were beginning to feel less and less like memories and more and more immediate. 

Present.

Inevitable. 

She closed her eyes but somehow that made the effects even more powerful. Brett’s voice was everywhere. Her voice was everywhere. Voices saying to submit. Voices saying she was overwhelmed. Voices telling her to give in. Voices telling her to open her eyes.  

She opened her eyes. 

Paige was everywhere- submitting and being hypnotized and fucking and being fucked. One of the voices was talking about all of these mirrors- all of these images of who she was and who she would be. But which one was happening right now? Fighting and giving in? Rapturous and adoring? Blankly submissive? Being teased for hours and hours and begging to cum?  

Maybe they were ALL now, the voice explained. Maybe they were all happening and happened and were going to happen. She didn’t need to know, she was told. And that was nice to not have to know.

Brett knew, she remembered/heard. Brett knew what was right, All she had to do was sit back and obey and feel. 

And it was so easy to sit back and obey Brett. It felt effortless. Inevitable. She had a sense of an older Paige being unbound and kneeling at Brett’s feet  but she was unsure of whether that was an image she was watching or something she was actually experiencing. Maybe it was something she was fantasizing about, lying back in her bed at home and touching herself. It didn’t matter. Toys didn’t need to think. Toys just needed to feel. Toy just needed to know that she was and had been and always WOULD be. 

Always and only. 

Brett’s.