Call in Sick

Gwen's alarm went off at 5:30 AM, while all the sensible people were still asleep and the light was still a murky predawn haze that barely penetrated her bedroom curtains. She fumbled for the switch to her bedside lamp, knowing all too well that if she turned off the alarm before she turned on the light then she'd only just nod off again, and finally found it on the third try. Then, still wincing from the sudden stab of illumination, she turned off the alarm and unlocked her phone in a desperate effort to find something that would engage her brain.

A few seconds later, she lowered it and looked over at the man next to her.

Gwen didn't recognize him at first; it was a surreal sensation, staring at a man who shared her bed and not having the slightest idea who he was or how he got there. She studied his sleep-tousled brown hair, the slight curves of his rounded pink cheeks, the bare skin of his shoulders that went down under the covers and that Gwen didn't dare investigate further... but none of it rang a bell. It was only when he opened his deep brown eyes and looked at her that everything finally came back to her in an overwhelming rush of recollection that made her gasp in shock and arousal. "Hello, pet," he murmured, glancing at her phone. "Why don't you go ahead and call in sick today?" Gwen nodded vacantly, her jaw slackening as her confusion melted into fascinated bliss.

It was suddenly Friday night for Gwen all over again, Friday night and a seat at a table near the dance floor waiting for her friends to arrive so the evening could begin. Gwen always got to the club early, staking out the primo real estate before the live music started and the bar got crowded so that they could have the best seats in the house... but this Friday was different. This Friday there was already someone sitting at her favorite table, but he beckoned her to join him and said he didn't mind getting up once her friends got there. Only he hoped she didn't mind if he rested a bit longer, because he'd had a hard day and he was very tired.

Gwen thought she could simply ignore him until he left, but he kept droning on about how long and exhausting his day was, how he could feel waves of drowsiness flowing down his body in slow, languid procession until his legs felt too limp and lazy to move and his arms hung down lifeless at his sides and his heavy-lidded eyes gazed vacantly at whatever happened to be in front of him and even his brain became numb and sluggish and confused. And Gwen didn't quite notice when the identifying pronouns dropped out of his sentences and when she began to conflate the stranger's weary lassitude with her own post-work lethargy and when she began to nod along in blank, thoughtless agreement.

It seemed like mere minutes before Gwen was absently repeating his words back to him, the sound of her own dazed and drowsy voice convincing her that she meant everything she said. "I'm so sleepy." "I've never been so tired." "My mind and body are completely exhausted." "I can't stay awake much longer." "I need to go home and rest." "I'm just too drowsy to drive." "I need someone to take me home." Gwen's thoughts got tangled up in befuddled confusion after that, the details slipping away into a fog of dreamy lethargy that swallowed long stretches of the evening, but she recalled being so grateful when she handed the suddenly-energetic stranger her car keys. He helped her into the passenger seat, and then his soothing tones became warm background noise as her eyes finally slipped shut.

Gwen didn't know how they got back to her house. She didn't know why she let the stranger inside. All she knew was that it was so much easier to go along with his gently murmured suggestions than to try to dredge up thoughts of her own from the sticky morass of her own exhausted mind. She barely had the energy to show him back to the bedroom before her eyelids fluttered shut and her body sagged against his and she slumped onto the mattress in a fugue of deep, helpless relaxation.

The rest of Friday night passed in one long waking dream. Gwen remembered weakly struggling her way out of her little black cocktail dress, revealing an expanse of ivory skin that contrasted sharply with her cherry red bra and panties. She remembered being so grateful to the stranger for taking such good care of her, giving her a gentle soothing backrub that massaged out all the tension from her muscles and left her relaxed and peaceful... and turned on, as much as she tried to deny it to herself. His touch just felt so good that Gwen couldn't stop her thoughtless thoughts from turning to the wet, needy throb between her thighs that she was too tired to satisfy.

But the stranger was so helpful. He was so kind and friendly when he asked her what was wrong, and somehow he deciphered Gwen's slack-jawed mumbles to figure out that what she was saying was, "I'm so horny...." Which was an embarrassing admission to make, especially to a man she'd only just met that same night, but he took it in stride and cheerfully offered to give her soaking cunt a little bit of the same attention he'd lavished on the rest of her body. He didn't even ask for anything in return, but Gwen knew she'd need to repay his kindness somehow.

It felt like hours before she finally got her chance. Gwen spent the time drifting in pleasure, her mind floating on the edge of sleep while the stranger's precise, confident fingers teased the slick folds of her pussy from one climax to another until she couldn't tell where one orgasm ended and the next began. He spoke to her almost the entire time, but Gwen couldn't seem to focus on his words, not with her clit throbbing so insistently that it drowned out everything else around her. She simply grunted affirmatively whenever he paused, hoping that agreement made sense in context, while all the while the subtle but insistent pressure to show him her gratitude built in the back of her euphoria-drugged brain.

And then Gwen felt the mattress shift in front of her, and the dreamy lethargy that had gripped and held her lifted just enough for her to open her glassy blue eyes and see his cock jutting mere fractions of an inch in front of her open mouth. It seemed so easy to lean forward and swallow his thick shaft, wrapping her lips around it and bobbing her head up and down in a metronomic rhythm that became its own kind of thought-stopping meditation. Gwen didn't need to think, she didn't need to stir her mind from its lazy slumber; she only needed to push herself down onto him, again and again, while he kept talking to her in that calm, soothing voice she was becoming so intimately familiar with. It was wonderful.

By the time he shot his load down her throat, Gwen was so deeply hypnotized that he barely needed a whisper to send her the rest of the way down into dreamless sleep.

She never really woke up again. By the time consciousness trickled back into her groggy brain on Saturday morning, it was with an awareness of the stranger's voice in her ears... well, Gwen couldn't call him a stranger, not after she'd been so very intimate with him the night before. Not when 'Master' fit so well as a description. She heard Master's warm, soothing tones before she could even open her eyes, and within moments she didn't want to open them anymore. She wanted to open up something else to him, to part her thighs and spread her pussy lips and welcome in his stiff cock with a sleepy mewl of pleasure while his words took her deeper into trance. Gwen came twice around his shaft before he spurted inside her and went soft.

The rest of the day passed in a haze of blissful indolence. Gwen's Master filled her cunt with a thick, buzzing dildo whenever his dick wasn't hard, fogging up her thoughts with pleasure again and again until Gwen drifted rudderless through a sea of hazy euphoria that took away everything but his voice in her ears. He fed Gwen by hand, gave her frequent sips of water to keep her hydrated, but never gave her a chance to recover her composure. Every time the drowsy young woman opened her eyes, there was a blur of captivating fractal patterns in front of her. Every time she tried to make sense of the surreal experience, another climax fragmented her mind and left her blank and open and helpless to resist his conditioning. Gwen didn't even know what she was agreeing with, not consciously, but she felt happier and happier every time she murmured in sleepy agreement with his words.

She drowsed on and off, or at least she thought she did--by the time the sunlight streaming through her windows took on the golden quality of late afternoon, Gwen could no longer tell the difference between actual sleep and a trance so profound that she lost even the memory of the passage of time. She would wake midway through sucking Master's cock, or regain consciousness as she slumped back down onto the mattress just long enough to realize she must have gone somewhere and done something before the sound of Master's voice lulled her right back down into the blissful oblivion of complete surrender to his will. Sometimes she dreamed that she was speaking to him, reciting mantras over and over again until they etched themselves into the very structure of her brain. Sometimes she dreamed that wasn't a dream at all.

By Sunday morning, it was growing increasingly difficult to remember who she was. There was a Gwen, and that Gwen had a name and an identity and a set of memories all her own, but Gwen was feeling more and more like a facade that her real self--the self that belonged to Master--wore sometimes when she needed to fool herself into thinking that she wasn't completely owned and obedient. Master called that girl 'my slutty little fuckbunny', and by the early afternoon she was calling herself Fuckbunny even in the privacy of her own head. When she was thinking at all, which wasn't often. It was just so much nicer when Master did all that for her so that Fuckbunny could keep sucking and fucking and surrendering deeper to her own conditioning.

Master finally allowed her to shower Sunday evening, scrubbing Fuckbunny down like she was livestock and washing off the stink of sex that clung to her like a fog and kept her constantly anchored to the memories of her own arousal. He patted her dry with a towel and helped her change the bedding, then tucked her in between the fresh sheets and fixed her with his piercing stare one last time before her utterly exhausted mind and body collapsed into an exhausted slumber so deep that she didn't even remember her eyes closing. "You're mine now," she heard him say, the last conscious impression in her head before she plummeted into a dreamless sleep. "Mine forever." Fuckbunny couldn't even imagine disagreeing with him anymore.

And now she was dialing her boss, her fingers tapping automatically at her smartphone while her eyes locked helplessly onto the piercing stare that stripped away Gwen's will and identity like wisps of fog evaporating in the summer sun. Fuckbunny couldn't think why she'd ever forgotten her Master, and yet at the same time she basked in the radiant glow of his approval for being a good girl and letting him slip out of her mind whenever she was away from him. She was becoming so compliant now. She was becoming such a good hypnotized slut for her controller. She wanted nothing more than to sink back into his will and open herself up to his irresistible brainwashing.

"This is Gwen," Fuckbunny heard herself mutter in a hoarse, croaky voice, the nonsense syllable coming just as easily to her lips as the impersonation of laryngitis. "I'm afraid I can't come in today. I picked up something on the weekend, just need to lie in bed and try to get some rest." She knew they would believe the lie; she had an excellent attendance record at her job, just one more harbinger of the compliance that would serve her Master so well now that she understood who she truly belonged to. A blank, blissful smile spread across her face as she hung up and fell back into her owner's hypnotic stare.

"Good girl," he purred, his hand reaching out under the covers to caress her wet cunt. "Don't worry, sweetie, you'll be going back there soon enough. But I want to take one more day to make sure your programming really sinks in." His fingers matched word to action, pushing in between her labia and finding Fuckbunny's clit, and soon she found herself drifting back into that perfect, mindless trance that opened her completely to Master's irresistible control. She moaned in ecstasy as her conditioning began anew.

THE END