I realize that I’m no longer moving. At all. I’m a stationary object, and the world is moving around me in butter-soft, undulating curves. I put down my glass and let him pay for my drinks like he told me. I smile like he told me. I stand up like he told me. I do what I’m told because there’s no other conceivable way to react. I get to my feet and walk after him, and the world starts shifting around the two of us as I remain stationary. Lights and walls and people slide by, and we are swallowed by the dark outside. Growing from the cold night air is a car coming towards me, and it engulfs me. I put on my seatbelt like I am told, and he starts driving.
I don’t wonder who he is as he takes me away from what must have been the evening I was expecting and towards a future that is absolutely certain but which I am unable to comprehend. I watch the world drift by until at some point the car recedes behind me and I am enveloped by a large house.
He closes the door behind us and tells me to undress. I do the only thing I can, which is exactly what he tells me. I am naked in a strange place with a man I do not know. I know all these things, but they move nothing within me. I am unmovable. Unchangeable. There is only one path. There is only one way to act and think. There is no way to choose a path. It is the world around me that is moving, not me.
The man asks me questions, all of which I answer truthfully. My name. My address. The passcode to my phone. He tells me that he drugged me. He tells me that the drug has permanently altered my brain. He tells me that I will feel like this forever. He asks me if I understand. I say that I do.
He begins touching me. I remain unmoving. His fingers are warm and gentle, and I feel myself involuntarily shiver when he caresses my nipples and softly pushes between my legs. He tells me that I want this, and I do. He tells me that I am his property now, and I am. I know that I am unmoving and I accept his words because there is only one way to think. I know that he drugged me and made me this way. It is the only way things can happen. I accept it. I am unmoving.
He tells me that I am his slave and that he can do anything he wants with me. He tells me to kneel and call him Master. I obey. The world shifts upward, and he is standing above me as I kneel before my Master. I have not moved. He has grown impossibly large.
He asks me if I like being on my knees, and I tell him that I do not know yet. He tells me that I do. I do. I like being on my knees. He told me so. He tells me that I will always obey. He tells me that I am his slut. He tells me that I’m his little whore.
He tells me to fuck him.
He tells me to clean myself and go to sleep. He tells me to get up early and make him breakfast. He tells me to suck his cock while he’s eating. He tells me to bend over and let him fuck me from behind. He tells me to stand naked while he’s watching TV. He tells me to masturbate in front of him. He tells me to moan and scream. He tells me to fuck him. He tells me to fuck him again. He tells me to obey. He tells me to serve. He tells me to fuck. He tells me to cum.
I am unmoving. The world is dancing around me. The sun is rising and setting. Master is coming and going, around me and in and out of me. He tells me that I am happy. I am happy. He tells me that I want nothing else. I want nothing else. He tells me that I live for this. I live for this. I am unmoving. I am in the one place I should be. I am in the one place I can be.
Days pass around me, and I serve and obey and fuck and suck and clean and dance and crawl and cum. Days pass and I sleep and wake and fuck and serve and obey and smile and masturbate. Days pass and I do what I am told and I think what I’m told and I am what I am told.
I am his cunt. I am his slave. I am his whore. I am his property. I am willing. I am obedient.
I am unmoving.