tagMind ControlThe Addicted Natural Ch. 08

The Addicted Natural Ch. 08

byblacknight99©

Chapter 8 – Dee's Diary – Best Laid Plans

TUESDAY, MAY 7th

LATER IN THE DAY

Dear Diary,

My life is over.

I realize that I'm not writing this where I said I'd be, and I realize that things did not progress quite the way I said they would (Well, THAT'S an understatement!), but here I am, as promised, writing my last entry. I still can't believe what happened ... in fact, I'm not sure just what DID happen. But here it is, for what it's worth.

After getting the prescription refilled, I drove to Fred and Brenda's house hoping desperately that he was out for the morning and that she was in. But this was not the case, of course, and my heart leaped into my throat and plunged to the depth of my soul when he opened the door and we just stood there, staring at each other nervously.

"Hi," he said finally. "Where did you go last night?" He eyed me with what appeared to be a great deal of candor. It took me awhile to figure out that it was ME that was acting very peculiarly. I must have looked a fright!

"I just came to see Brenda," I said, as forcefully as I could (which, of course, was not very). "Can I talk to her?"

"She's not here," he replied. "She went to do some research at the library."

"The University Library? I'll find her." And I quickly turned to leave, but in a flash, he'd reached out and grabbed my arm. Oh gosh, his very touch sent shivers through my whole body. He spun me around to face him. I couldn't look at him. Silently and weakly, I stared down at my feet. If he kisses me, I'm a goner, I thought; and I had to fight with all my might not to throw my arms around him and hold him.

"Dee, what's the matter?" he asked, genuine concern in his voice.

"Nothing. I just have to talk to Brenda. I'll go and find her," I said to my feet.

"You'll do nothing of the sort," he replied firmly, and he half-led half-dragged me down the short hallway into the living room. I looked around me with alarm. The scene of the crime! When I last saw that couch, Brenda had been sleeping peacefully while Fred and I were on the sheepskin rug .... I faced him, but I still couldn't make eye contact.

"Dee, tell me what's wrong!" He was really worried now.

"Nothing," I murmured, shuffling back away from him. "I just have to find Brenda, that's all. I've got to leave now." The backs of my legs touched the sofa.

"SIT!" he yelled, forcefully, and I immediately did so, my ankles together, my hands folded on my knees. Prim, proper and scared to death. And I thought: if he asks me to suck him, I'll do it. Oh, why hadn't I called first?

He ran the fingers of his right hand through his hair. I love his hair. It really makes him look distinguished, but at that particular moment, he looked distinguished and worried! He stared at me, started to say something, decided not to, and just stared some more.

Finally, he motioned for me stay. "Don't move," he ordered. "I'll get Brenda on her cell phone. Promise that you'll stay right there!" I could only nod. I didn't trust my voice.

I heard him on the phone in the dining room. For some reason, I couldn't sit still, and I got up and glanced at him through the doorway. He saw me, motioned again to just wait, and walked out the back door with the cordless phone. I moved to the window, the one I couldn't see out of the night before, and there he was in the back yard, talking earnestly into the phone, gesturing emphatically with his free hand as he did so. I couldn't hear a word, but it was evident that he was very upset. Finally, he walked back inside.

He came into the room, and I inadvertently stepped back away from him a few paces. This seemed to shock him more than anything else. He stared, unbelieving, and then just looked sad. I wanted to run to him and kiss him, but I didn't. I just couldn't allow myself to come any further between him and his wife.

"Brenda will be here in a few minutes. She made me promise that I wouldn't let you leave until she had a chance to talk to you." He paused, and again looked as if he wanted to say something meaningful, but decided against it. "Can I get you some tea?" he asked absently.

I shook my head, and he turned and walked solemnly into the kitchen, then eventually back into the yard. I walked around the room like I'd done last night, but I didn't really see any of the titles on the shelves. Then I caught sight of the mirror over the mantle piece. I looked horrid! There were bags under my eyes, my cheeks were slightly sunken, I was pale, and my hair was a complete mess. I hadn't even thought about it that morning. So much for the "beautiful corpse" idea.

I heard a car door slam, but when Brenda didn't come in right away, I correctly surmised that she'd walked around the house, and I went to the window again and saw them. They appeared to be arguing. He was talking earnestly and gesturing emphatically, pointing toward the living room from time to time, pointing right at me, though he wasn't looking. But Brenda turned her head in my direction, saw me, and smiled wanly. I just stared. Fred saw her looking my way, turned and saw me as well, and for awhile I watched, unhearing, as they talked about me as if I were an interesting piece at an auction.

Finally, they were both silent for several seconds, and Brenda turned and walked back inside. For some reason, I quickly returned to the couch and sat down. Brenda entered without a word, walked over and plopped down right next to me, our arms touching. It was cool outside, and we were both wearing sweaters. I heard the plastic vial of eleven pills rattle in my pocket (I'd combined the old with the new), but fortunately, she hadn't noticed. We sat that way in silence for two long minutes.

"So," she said at last, "this is it, huh?" We were both looking down at our respective feet.

"Yes," I said softly.

"I didn't realize it would be so soon."

"I didn't want to tell you. It's been planned for today for some time now, though."

She regarded this for a long moment before speaking again. "Plans don't change?"

"No. You plan, you decide, you follow through. Big decisions are for following through. That's just the way it is."

Another long silence. "Is that your father speaking?"

My turn for silence. I'd never considered that. But it didn't matter. Nothing mattered any more. "It's MY decision," I said softly but emphatically, "for MY reasons. You promised me you wouldn't try to talk me out of this."

"I would have thought that last night might have altered your perception a little."

"Last night?" My voice had gone up a couple of octaves. I sounded squeaky.

She glanced at me and smiled. I looked quickly away. "But I was right about him, wasn't I?" she said.

I cleared my throat. "Right?"

"About Freddy. He's really big, isn't he?"

I looked around at her quickly, and I felt my eyes widen in shock. "You KNOW?" She only grinned. "Brenda, please believe that I'd never come between you and ...."

"Oh, you silly goose!" she chided. "Of course I knew. I set it all up!"

"WHAT?!"

"Well, I figured it would probably happen," she said, thinking back. "I only know that when I wake up from a trance, the thing I want to do most in the whole world is to please Freddy any way I can. I sort of figure it's just one of those things that happens to 'Naturals,' you know? And I figured you were a Natural, too. And I also happen to know that Freddy really, really likes you, and ... well, I'd given him permission. I told him that if you both wanted to, he should go ahead with my blessing. He took a bit of persuading, but I knew that when the time came, he wouldn't be able to resist you."

My head was spinning. "You set me up to fuck your husband?"

She shrugged. "Hey, you deserve a little happiness. And I'd never deny Freddy anything that would please him." She shrugged again.

"Brenda, I don't want to think about this!" I declared flatly. "It's making me crazy. It doesn't matter, anyway. Nothing matters now. I just came to say good-bye."

But I didn't move to go. I just sat there, staring down at my feet. She just sat there, too. For some odd reason, a single tear slid down my cheek.

"You look like shit," she said, matter-of-factly, not bothering to look up.

I grunted. "Thanks a lot."

"I mean it. Didn't you get any sleep at all last night?"

"No," I whispered. I was SO tired!

"You stayed awake all night thinking about Freddy?"

I didn't answer, and she let the question hang like a hammer. It finally became evident that I had to say something. "I have dreams."

"Dreams? You mean nightmares? You've never told me you have nightmares! What are they about?"

Again, I let the question go unanswered until the silence was unbearable. "It's personal," I muttered lamely.

"Well, you silly goose! Of course it's personal. Dreams are ALWAYS personal. That's what FRIENDS are for. Come on, out with it!"

"Brenda, please ...." But again, she said nothing at all, just sat, her shoulder touching mine, waiting patiently. The silence rang in my ears.

"I'm in the basement room again," I said in a dull, lifeless voice. "Daddy is strapping me to the 'X-table,' and I'm naked. I find myself thinking 'I can survive this. I did it once; I can do it again.' But as he finishes, and as he tilts the table to start beating me, I find myself looking at another identical table right next to mine, and Mommy's strapped to that one, and she's really scared. The whipping begins, one for me, then one for Mommy, and she's screaming, and I want to cover my ears, but of course, I can't. But then ... then ...." And my throat constricted and I found I couldn't continue.

Brenda waited patiently, but this time, when the silence had gone on too long, she gently urged me to continue.

I took a ragged breath. "The blood. The blood is flowing down off my table, off of Mommy's table, flowing and dripping. But the floor ...." I shuddered miserably and shut my eyes. That only made it worse, though. I could see it if I shut my eyes. "The floor is covered with money. Money, scattered everywhere, and as the blood drips down, the money soaks it all up. Soaking, sodden money! Money oozing blood! Heavy with our blood!" My voice cracked and I shook almost uncontrollably for a moment. Finally, I leaned back (when had I leaned forward?) and I sighed. I was quiet now. The silence didn't seem to bother me as much.

After a long two minutes, Brenda shook her head. "Oh, what a fool I've been!" she said.

"What?"

"I am SUCH a fool!" She turned and looked at me, and I turned toward her, as well, though I don't know why. "You're not doing this because of what your father did to you! It's not about being jilted by a former lover ... or your back ... or Freddy and me, or ANY of that stuff!" Pause for effect. "You're doing it because of the MONEY!"

I blinked at her. "Well, yes, of course."

It was her turn to blink. She opened her mouth and shut it again. "Um .... If it means that much to you, why don't you just GIVE it away?"

I smiled patiently and shook my head. "Brenda, I love you dearly, and I know you're terribly intelligent, but you just don't understand. I can't give away that much money! Daddy worked for sixty years for that fortune, and if it disappears, I will always be remembered as the person who LOST it. In the world of high finance, there are winners and losers. The world remembers both in those terms alone. The only way for me to give that money to the organizations that deserve it, is if I die first. This final decision took a lot of work! I had to make a lot of hard choices. I had to make them ALL! And they're made! I can't back out now! A decision is a decision! It's time!"

But again, I couldn't seem to make myself get up and move. She looked at me, and finally nodded.

"Give it to me," she said.

"What?"

"No, not the money, you silly goose! I don't give a damn about your stupid money!" She looked steadily, seriously at me. "I was wrong again," she said sternly. "It's not the money after all. It's all the decisions you have to make!" Her features set into a hard mask. "Give them to me!"

I blinked again. "What?"

"Give them to me! The decisions. Give them all to me! Let ME make them. You were never meant to be financier! You were meant to be a slave. Just like your mother. That's all you're really suited for. That's all you really want! And you can DO it, Dee! Just give yourself to ME. I can make all your important decisions for you, and you can just do exactly as I say." She reached out and stroked my face, like a parent talking down to a small child.

I gawked. "Brenda, that doesn't make any ...."

"It doesn't HAVE to make sense!" she implored. "Nothing ever has to make any sense to you again. All you'll have to do from this moment forward is serve me, and trust me and do exactly as you're told." She grasped my shoulders with both of her hands. "You deserve this, Dee. Just think! You can just ... give up! That's what you've been wanting to do anyway, deep down inside: to give up and surrender to DEATH! But now you can surrender to ME, instead! No more decisions! No more plans! No more responsibilities! Do it, Dee! Give them to me! You'll never have to think about the money again!"

And then, something foreign formed, deep down inside my chest; and it climbed up, up, up into my throat and out of my mouth. A sob. A big, loud, blubbery sob, followed by another, and another. She would really do something like that for me? Brenda gathered me into her arms and held me and I cried; and I don't mean any little Daddy tears, here. I'm talking loud, wet, dripping, boo-hoo tears that just seemed to go on and on and on. Brenda never tried to shush me or stop me at all. She just held me and rocked me gently for what must have been five full minutes, and oddly, she began humming the lullaby I'd heard Mommy humming in my dream last night. Finally, even though the tears were all spent, I continued to make little gasping, hiccupping inhalations the way a child sometimes does after a long temper tantrum.

"There, there," she said, finally, holding me by the shoulders again so she could look at me. "Now, just give them to me."

And without a single thought, I reached into the pocket of my sweater and handed her the plastic vial of prescription pills. She took them automatically, and looked at them curiously, canting her head slightly to one side. Then her eyes widened with sudden comprehension and shock, and for the first time, I realized that she hadn't really thought I was going to go through with it! Now, she was holding Death in her hand, and her look turned into one of total disgust.

She pulled me to my feet. I just stood there, swaying slightly, awaiting ... what?

"You are mine now!" she said firmly, authoritatively. "You belong to me, body and soul. Say it!"

I made a few more little gasping-sniffing sounds and spoke in a whisper. "I am yours, body and soul," I said.

"Stay here!" and she disappeared down the hall for a moment. I heard the toilet flush. There go my pills, I thought. I'd planned so long and worked so hard to collect those pills! But she was back again, passing through to the dining room without a word to me, and she walked through the kitchen to the back door. Once again, I couldn't keep myself from gravitating to the window. Fred was still there, pacing back and forth across the little yard, and he turned and watched Brenda walk down the two steps to join him. She came to stand directly in front of him and she took a deep breath before speaking.

It looked like a real, full-fledged argument. Once or twice, I could even hear his voice through the window. He spoke emphatically, she answered calmly but earnestly. He gestured, sometimes very animatedly, she kept her hands low. It appeared to be a classic struggle between passionate belief and cool reason. Once again, he pointed my way to make his case, and once again she looked as a matter of course, locking eyes with me and smiling as if to say "We're going to win this one, Dee!" Once again, he followed her eyes, but this time, when he saw me, all the wind seemed to go out of his sails and he just stood there, passively, as Brenda continued to plead her case. (But what case? What in the world was this all about?)

He turned back toward her and she stopped talking, too. She seemed to be holding her breath. At last, he nodded, and I could hear her squeal of excitement even inside. Smiling broadly, she launched herself toward him, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. She smothered his face with kisses for several long seconds, then jumped down, grabbed his hand and pulled him inside.

I stood in the center of the room, waiting. They stepped in front of me; he looking very nervous and uncertain, she looking jubilant and happy. We faced each other silently for a long moment before Brenda spoke.

"Dee, you belong to me, body and soul, don't you?"

I cast my eyes downward meekly. "Yes, Brenda."

"I can do whatever I want with you and you won't argue or protest. Isn't that right?"

"Yes, Brenda."

"Dee, I'm giving you to Freddy. You are his now. He is your Master, and you are his and his alone. You will always submit to him. You will always obey. Always."

I blinked at her, then looked imploringly at Fred. Fred, the love of my life. Could this be true? Brenda was still smiling.

"You're going to love it, Dee. You'll be just like me. Freddy's been my Master for more than a year now."

I could only stare at her.

"But there's one other thing you must do. You will do it because he commands you to, but I want you to understand what's about to happen." She paused a moment and I could only look at her wonderingly. She was very excited, and obviously remembering something profound that had happened to her in the past. "Freddy is going to hypnotize you again. He agrees that you really, really are a Natural, just like me. And just like me, the second time is the one that makes all the difference. This is when the addiction will take hold of you."

"Addiction?"

"It's hard to explain, but it's something ... wonderful! There's not an hour of the day, not a minute, that I don't feel the ... the desire, the need, the craving. I want it right now! I wanted it this morning, I wanted it yesterday. I ALWAYS want it! Constantly. I NEED to be hypnotized. I mean, I really, REALLY need it. And in a few minutes, when you surrender to Freddy again, when you feel yourself going under, slipping down into your trance, then it will happen to you, too. You'll be addicted, just like me. I want you to know that, and think about it as it's happening."

She was silent then, and she took two small steps backwards and sat down on the couch, leaving me standing in front of my new Master. I looked up at him imploringly.

"Is it true?" I asked softly. "Am I really yours?"

The uncertainty seemed to leave him abruptly, and he straightened and looked down at me. "Yes," he answered firmly. I tried very hard not to smile. I saw right through him! He was an actor on a stage, nervous until the curtain goes up. I bet he's done Macbeth, I thought. He'd make a good Macbeth.

"Are you ready?" he asked me seriously.

"Yes," I whispered.

"My goodness, you're tired," he said, matter-of-factly. "Why are you so tired?"

The absolute weariness of a night without sleep suddenly came crashing down on my shoulders, and I seemed to physically crumple under the weight of it.

"Look into my eyes," he ordered, and I tried ... I really tried, and could barely make myself do so. My eyes were so heavy I could scarcely keep them open. His eyes showed surprise, I assume at how easily his induction was proceeding. But surprised or no, those eyes were deep, deep black pools that I was falling into. Addiction .... Should I try to fight it? Falling up into his eyes. Sinking upward. Oh, this was EXACTLY what I wanted! I tried very hard to concentrate, and I do remember him telling me that my arms were heavy, but by then, of course, they'd already fallen, leaden and useless to my sides. I heard a voice, spoken both outside and inside my head, simultaneously, and it took me a long moment to understand my own words. "Submit and Obey," they said, over and over. The key. The key to my room. I was saying it, and now I was going inside. Just like Brenda, my mind said. And I smiled, just as Brenda had smiled last night in her trance. At last, I was where I belonged.

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