Chapter 2: The Question By Trixie Adara
Nadia
Nadia looked at the door to Penny's penthouse. She was surprised the hypnotist returned her call and even more surprised when the hypnotist invited her to come by. The building had an honest-to-god doorman. The elevator had a doorman. Security guards were roaming the hallways on the lower floors.
But the top floor, Penny's floor, was empty. Nadia stepped off the elevator onto a small landing in front of a large oak door. Nadia looked at the doorman (elevator man?) and smiled. The elevator man smiled back.
"I just get off here and knock on the door?" asked Nadia.
"Yes, ma'am," he answered.
"Giant wooden door?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Not a scary giant wooden door, right?"
"No, ma'am."
"It's a perfectly ordinary giant wooden door belonging to a powerful hypnotist."
"That's right."
"And I just ... knock on it?" asked Nadia.
"Yes, ma'am."
"Well, sure, this makes sense Nadia." She shrugged and walked off the elevator. "Just go to a hypnotist and ask her where your boyfriend is." She looked all around the door for some type of doorbell or way to announce her presence. "Do I just walk in? I walk right in? That's not creepy, right? I mean, she knows I'm coming. I called her. She gave me a time. She knows." Nadia sighed and looked back at the elevator man, then back at the door. "Aaaand you're talking to yourself. Out loud. Perfect."
Nadia shrugged her shoulders and knocked on the door. Nothing happened. She tapped her foot. Nadia tried to imagine what was going beyond the door. Was it some exotic palace of mind experiments? Was it some psychedelic experience? Was it like a ward for the mentally ill? Or was it nothing at all? It could be nothing at all.
The door opened. An older man in a suit, a butler looking suit, stood before Nadia. He looked to be in his upper 50s. He smiled and said, "Yes?"
"Uh, hi," said Nadia. "I'm ... uh ... Nadia ... I have an appointment?"
"Ah, yes. Miss MacQuarrie, is it? Miss Penny is expecting you." He stepped out of the way and let Nadia in. Nadia stepped past butler man and gasped. "Holy Santa Claus," she mumbled. The penthouse was beautiful. Nadia stood at some type of landing or foyer. A wall blocked her way and led to an open living room to her left and a beautiful dining room to her right. Both the living room and the dining room had floor to ceiling windows on the outer wall. The windows showed the entirety of Memphis below and around Nadia for miles.
"This way, miss," said the butler. He lead Nadia to the living room, to the left, and through it. Nadia saw that to the right, between the dining room and the living room, was a large open kitchen with marble countertops and islands. It was one large room: dining room, living room, and kitchen, that sprawled over and into each other.
Everything was clean. Everything was pristine. Everything was ... sterile. Everything was dry. Everything was choreographed. It looked like a furniture catalogue more than a place where a person lived. It was all white and brown and grey and marble and stainless steel. Where was the color? Where were the accidents and stains?
Also, where was Penny?
The butler stood on the other side of the living/dining/kitchen room, waiting for her. He was judging her. Nadia could feel it. Here she was, an adorable ginger in a dark green flared dress, rain boots, a maroon cardigan, and bright, fake gold beads in the middle of the epitome of poshe and professional. Her existence in this room was an affront to its taste.
Nadia tended to dislike fancy people and fancy money. They liked their money because it gave them a mask, a shield. They think it buys them two identities. It doesn't. It's all artifice. It reminded Nadia of home and a house that was more museum than home. It reminded her that the punishment for a stain and forgetting a coaster were the same. Her hands clenched without her permission.
"This way," drolled the Butler. Bucky. Nadia was going to call him Bucky the Butler in her mind. That'd help her relax.
Bucky the Butler led her past the living/dining/kitchen room to another hallway. This hallway came to a dead end and split in two different directions. Bucky went right, and Nadia followed. He stopped in front of another impressive oak door and knocked. There was a mumble from the other side.
The door opened to reveal a woman in her late thirties with dirty blonde hair. She was taller than Nadia, almost six feet, but that was exaggerated heeled sandals with pale pink straps. She wore skinny jeans and a pink tank top, each of which looked like they cost more than Nadia's entire outfit. Over her tank top was a sheer chiffon blouse with an wide neck that it dangle over one of her shoulders. Her hair was loose, but clearly styled with something to give it model-level waves.
She was everything Nadia was not.
"Yes?" she asked, without looking up from her phone.
"Miss MacQuarrie, Ma'am," said Bucky. He gestured to Nadia and stepped out of the way.
"Ah, yes," said Penny to her phone. "Come on in." Penny turned around and went back into her office. Nadia looked to Bucky, who gestured for Nadia to follow, and walked away, back towards the kitchen.
Nadia shrugged and followed the beautiful hypnotist into what certainly could be her lair of destruction.
Penny's office was similar to everything else: clean. It was designed like a therapist's room. It had a couch for lying down and a couch for sitting on in the back. It had two comfortable armchairs. It had a gorgeous desk that looked like something the president would use. Lining the office were bookshelves. Nadia turned her head to read title after title about psychotherapy, hypnosis, the brain, the senses, the psyche, neurosis, the subconscious, and more and more until she got dizzy.
She bumped into a chair facing Penny's desk and looked up. Penny was already seated, still clicking away on her phone.
"Sit," suggest Penny. Nadia sat. "How can I help you Miss MacQuarrie?"
"Please," said Nadia, "Miss MacQuarrie is my mother. You can call me Nadia."
Penny looked up from her phone. She did not smile.
"Uh ... right. I was at your show a few weeks ago. And -"
"When?" interrupted Penny.
"A few weeks ago ..." said Nadia with a condescending tone.
"When a few weeks ago? I have four shows a week."
"Um, right. S-sure." Nadia rummaged through her purse, looking for her phone. The date, Nadia. She wants the date. Focus. "Ummm ...." said Nadia while she unlocked and scrolled through her phone. "It looks like April 21st?"
"It looks like April 21st or it is April 21st?" asked Penny, her eyes still glued to her own phone.
"It is April 21st. April 21st for sure. Totally, definitely, April 21st," rambled Nadia. She put her phone away, took a deep breath, and sighed.
"What about that show? Have you been feeling any strange symptoms? If so, I'll need you to contact my lawyer. Otherwise, all sales are final and there are no refunds."
Penny kept her eyes in her phone. She wasn't listening. She wasn't paying attention. Joe was missing. He'd been missing for weeks ever since he went backstage with her. He didn't take her home. He didn't respond to calls. The police hadn't found anything except a mysterious note about him taking a vacation to Hawaii. Joe hated the beach. He wasn't in Hawaii.
And for Penny to sit here and dismiss Nadia? For her to assume that Nadia was nothing except another legal complaint or whining customer asking for a refund? No. Hell no.
"Can you put down your phone?" asked Nadia. In her head, her tone had more strength than it really did. There was a slight squeak to it, but it got Penny's attention. The hypnotist looked up from her phone and stared into Nadia.
Nadia braced herself to be hypnotized. She couldn't see the details of what Penny did to Joe, but she knew Penny's power was real. Joe can say he was acting and pretending to show Penny as a fraud, but Nadia knew better. Joe was completely under Penny's thumb. If Penny could do that to Joe, what could she do to Nadia? Could she make Nadia forget that Joe ever existed? Could she ask Nadia to empty her pockets and give Penny all her personal information?
Nadia shivered and waited.
But nothing happened. Penny glared, and then slowly put her phone down next to her. "Sure," said Penny, but she didn't smile. She wasn't pleased.
"I went to that show with my boyfriend, Joseph Warner. Though he calls himself Joe."
Penny's eyes flicked to her phone, but she didn't pick it up. Slowly, her gaze locked back onto Nadia.
"He was your volunteer, your skeptic, for the finale. You got him to say that he wanted to be a ... or he was a ... a ..."
"Cocksucker?" asked Penny. She smiled at the memory.
"Yes," said Nadia. She blushed and looked her hands, both folded in her lap.
"I remember. Is he upset? Is he offering to sue for defamation of character? He can contact legal if her needs -"
"He's been missing since the show," interrupted Nadia.
"Has he?" asked Penny. She didn't hesitate. "How many weeks is that?"
"Four," said Nadia quickly. "There was an investigation, but apparently he left the show and got on a plane for Hawaii? It doesn't make any sense. None of this makes any sense."
"In all my years of studying the human mind, I've found one constant: people are strange and surprising."
"Maybe," said Nadia, chewing her lip.
"He hasn't called?" asked Penny after a moment of silence.
"No."
"No explanation?"
"No."
Penny stood and smoothed out her jeans in one quick motion. "I'm not a relationship expert, Miss MacQuarrie. I can't help you understand why he left." Penny grabbed her phone and stepped around the desk to -
"Did you make him do it?" whispered Nadia.
"Hmm?" said Penny, stopping in her tracks.
"Did you make him do it? Leave, I mean. Was that your influence?"
"No, dear. I made him say he was a cocksucker. Even I can't make him an actual cocksucker."
"You can't?" asked Nadia, looking up at Penny.
Penny shook her head. "Follow me," she said and walked out of the office.
Nadia grabbed her bag and scrambled to follow. Penny walked back through the hallway to the open living/dining/kitchen room. Penny stopped by one of the giant windows where Bucky the Butler was cleaning.
"Hypnosis is a dance, not an invasion. I can suggest. I can lead, but I can't totally control. I can't rewrite someone. There has to be a willingness. For example," Penny gestured to Bucky. She snapped her fingers and resonate gong floated across the room. Bucky became very still.
"I can ask Maurice to cluck like a chicken. I can suggest. I can lead. But I can't force. If he does cluck for me, it won't be all me. Some part of him will be giving me permission. Some part will be following and trusting. Some part of him will want to cluck."
Penny whispered something in Bucky's ear. Bucky began to cluck wildly like a chicken. He flapped his arms and everything. Nadia blushed with embarrassment for the man. He already worked for Penny; he was already under her control. But to invade his mind? To take more of him away and put himself even further under her thumb?
It was kinda hot.
"Perhaps he wants to impress you? Perhaps he wants to impress me? Maybe he fears for his job or his paycheck? Maybe he likes the attention? It doesn't matter the reason. You must know that he is participating. He is not a doll I can empty and fill with whatever I want." Penny snapped her finger. Bucky stopped clucking, relaxed, and went back to cleaning. "No one can do that."
"Oh," said Nadia.
"So I couldn't make your boyfriend - what was his name?"
"Joe."
"Right. I couldn't make Joe leave you or go to Hawaii unless he wanted to, some part of him. And I certainly wouldn't benefit by doing so. It'd hurt my reputation if people at my show were afraid of me."
Nadia chewed her lip. She looked at her watch to check the time. She didn't have too much time to waste. She had half an hour. But she needed answers, and she still had one question--the question--that she wanted to ask Penny as soon as she saw the poster for Penny's show and the videos of Penny's power. One question that forced her to drag Joe to a show he'd hate. One question she'd wondered about since she was a little girl. But not now. Now isn't the time for that question.
"Does that mean that Joe wanted to ... or that he was ... or that he likes ... "
"Sucking cock?" finished Penny.
Nadia nodded, blushing.
"I have no idea. Some part of him wanted to say that. Some part of him wanted the attention or maybe the humor. I don't know. All I know is that I can make people open to my suggestions. I can lead them."
"But you can't control people?" asked Nadia. Closer to the question.
"Only if they let me," said Penny with a wink.
Nadia shivered. Penny laughed. Penny walked past Nadia, back towards her office, and Nadia followed. Penny sat in her chair and put her phone down on the desk, the screen facing away from her.
"Tell me more about yourself, Miss MacQuarrie," she said as Nadia sat.
"Well, for one, call me Nadia, seriously."
Penny nodded.
Nadia waited and then shrugged. "What do you want to know?"
"I know you didn't come here to ask if I sent Joe to Hawaii. You know I didn't."
Nadia sighed. "It was a long shot, yeah."
"Then why are you here?"
Nadia picked at her fingernails in her lap. This was dangerously close to the question. It was dangerously close to why she came to the show and why she bought audio files and why she stayed up late watching strange videos and -
"You were curious?"
Nadia nodded.
"About Joe or about me?"
"Yes?" asked Nadia. Penny smiled.
"About hypnosis?"
Nadia nodded.
"I have a few more minutes before I have another meeting. Go ahead and ask anything you want. Was my demonstration helpful?"
"Sort of," said Nadia. "I mean, if it is about the person participating, does that mean you can hypnotize yourself?"
Penny shrugged. "Sure. There are audio files or videos that attempt to do that. They're crude and basic, but they can create a shallow trance in an eager mind."
"A shallow trance?"
"When I hypnotize someone, I take them deep. I can go into their psyche, their childhood, their core personality, their memories, or anything really. It has to go past what the consciousness is willing to go into and get into the subconscious. If you download an audio file to help you quit smoking, you already want to quit. The audio file can never go deeper than the consciousness because the consciousness chose the file."
"That makes sense."
"Some could argue that to be truly hypnotized, there must be another force, an outsider force, leading the conscious mind or the subsconscious. The tapes are predetermined. They are chosen by the subject. They aren't led. They are a path. I am a scout."
"So someone can't hypnotize themself?"
"You wouldn't believe what we could do to ourselves, but no, not truly. It would be more like a guided meditation. Possible, but not the same. Why do you ask?"
"Can someone be immune to hypnosis?" asked Nadia quickly.
"No," said Penny firmly.
"You're sure?"
"I'd stake my career on it."
Nadia sighed. That was good news, right? It meant it was possible. It meant it wasn't just a fantasy. But it also meant she was doing something wrong. What was she doing wrong?
"There are some people," added Penny, "that can resist better than others. Some are more difficult to trance. But no one is immune to it. At least not immune to me. If there were some, I wouldn't take volunteers from the crowd. I couldn't risk it."
Nadia picked at her nails some more. She checked her watch again. She needed to go soon. She needed to ask the question or get out of here. She needed to get the answer she'd spent over a decade searching for. She need to be brave. She needed to -
"What's wrong?" asked Penny.
Nadia looked up and was surprised by what she saw. The woman before her was transformed. Penny leaned forward, an arm outstretched across the desk, as though to reach for Nadia, but not quite leaving the surface of the desk. Not a complete gesture. He calm mask of power was replaced with complicated concern. Nadia could see pity and weakness and fear and compassion mashed together across Penny's furrowed brow and open mouth.
"Nothing," said Nadia.
Penny's hand reached further to the edge of the desk. "You can tell me."
Nadia sighed, flaking off some of her nail polish. "It's just ..." started Nadia. "It's just that I've been curious about hypnosis since I was a little girl."
"Yes?" said Penny. The hypnotist sat back in her chair, retreating her open hand from across the desk to her lap. He face became placid, he eyes searched Nadia for some deeper layer once more.
"But I can't do it."
"Do what?"
"Be hypnotized?"
Penny smiled and let out a half snort, a half laugh.
"What?" asked Nadia.
"You can't be hypnotized?"
"No."
"Have you gone to a hypnotist?"
"A few in college," muttered Nadia.
"Students?" laughed Penny.
"Yeah," muttered Nadia, her face burning with shame.
"And audio files and videos, right?" asked Penny.
"Yeah."
"Then you haven't tried, dear," said Penny. "Not even close."
"Then can ..." Nadia stopped herself. Not now. Not here. This is about Joe. Don't make this about you, Nadia. Not everything is about you.
"Can what?" asked Penny, still amused. "Can I hypnotize you?"
Nadia's skin went cold. Her flesh erupted in goosebumps. Was this it? Was Penny going to take her under? To empty her out? To make her a doll, a toy, a nothing? Was she going to be helpless and -
No, Nadia. Now isn't the time for the question. Not for you. Not ever. Put that away.
"N-n-no," stammered Nadia. "Don't worry about it. You have a meeting. I have a meeting, I'd have to pay you, right? I can't pay you. Don't worry about it. Let's leave it alone for now and pretend I never -"
"Close your eyes."
Nadia obeyed instantly. Nadia heard something clock and the sound of rain and gentle bells and chimes filled the office. Nadia heard Penny stand up, and start to walk around the office. Through her eyelids, Nadia felt the office become dark. "Just breathe," said Penny. "Keep breathing. Breathe out for six seconds through your mouth, and inhale for eight seconds through your nose. Focus on that. Count the seconds. Don't worry about anything else." Nadia obeyed. Eight seconds. This was it. Six seconds. It was finally going to happen. Eight seconds. She'd spent a fortune on websites and supporting hypnotists online. Six seconds. But this was different. Eight seconds. Penny was real. Six seconds. Penny was right in front of her. Eight seconds. And Penny was going to take her under. Six seconds. Penny was going to make her blank. "Good," said Penny. Eight seconds. She was behind Nadia. Six seconds. Nadia felt Penny's hands on her shoulders. Eight seconds. She shivered. Six seconds. Finally. Eight seconds. Yes. Six seconds. Please. Eight seconds. Yes. Six seconds. "Are you ready?" asked Penny. Nadia nodded. "When you hear my rings, you'll go deep for me," said Penny. Nadia breathed. Eight seconds. Six seconds. Then the rings clicked and a resonate gong filled the room. It sent warm kisses all over Nadia's skin. She sighed, letting out more than breath. This was it. She was deep. She was under. Right? "Nadia?" asked Penny. "Yes?" "How do you feel?" "Good," said Nadia. Good, right? She felt good? "You're down the Rabbit Hole," said Penny. "The Rabbit Hole," repeated Nadia. That felt like the thing to do. "Deep down the Rabbit Hole." "The Rabbit Hole." "Now down there, you can see all your worry about Joe." "Worry about Joe." "It's like a red web of lighting," said Penny. "I want you to grab it." "Grab it." "And rip it up." "Rip it up?" "Yes, rip it up. You don't need it anymore. Don't worry about Joe." "Don't worry about Joe." "Joe is safe." "Joe is safe." "Joe is gone." "Joe is gone." "Joe is happier where he is." "Joe is happier where he is?" asked Nadia. Why? What was wrong with her? Why would he leave her? Sure, she wasn't the ideal mate for someone like Joe, but she tried. Dammit, she tried. "Nadia is happier without Joe." "I'm happier?" asked Nadia. Was she? Joe wasn't perfect. He was an asshole half the time. But he liked her. He complimented her. He noticed her. He wanted her. Didn't he? "Yes, you're much happier without him." "Okay." "Think about Joe. Picture him in your mind." "Okay." "What was one thing about him that you didn't like, that drove you crazy?" asked Penny. "He had a filthy mouth," said Nadia. "Yes, he did." "He was rude." "Yes, he was." "I didn't like that," said Nadia. "No one would. And now you don't need to hear all those filthy words ever again. You're free from that. Isn't that nice?" "Nice." "That's much better." "Better." "You don't need Joe." "I don't need Joe." "I don't?" asked Nadia. Nadia opened her eyes. Penny was behind her, pacing. "Are you sure?" asked Nadia. "Because I'm not so sure." "You're better off without you. You're too good for him." "I wish that was true," whispered Nadia. Penny crossed in front of Nadia. "Are you in the Rabbit Hole?" asked Penny. "What's the Rabbit Hole?" "What do you mean?" asked Penny. "What do you mean?" echoed Nadia. "Where are you right now?" "In your office." Penny walked away from Nadia. The lights turned on in the office. Penny walked to her desk and clicked a button beneath the top. The rain and bell sounds stopped. "What just happened?" asked Penny. "You turned on the music and turned off the lights and I breathed and then you snapped and you talked to me." "Did you go down the Rabbit Hole?" "You keep asking me that, what is that?" Penny stared for a long time at Nadia. At first, Nadia thought she had done something wrong? Was that why she couldn't be hypnotized? Was she doing it wrong? In all the videos she saw, everyone else went under so easily, so quickly. Hypnotists were like gods or goddesses walking in and out of the minds of those who encountered them. It seemed like the hypnotists had all the power and did all the work. But maybe the subjects were doing something too, something Nadia didn't understand. Was this her fault? Was she broken? "I need to go," said Penny as she stood up. "I have a meeting." "Wait," said Nadia as she stood. "Did it work? Did I go under?" "No," muttered Penny. "Something went wrong. I'll need to check my equipment."
"It wasn't me?" said Nadia with a sigh of relief. "There isn't something wrong with me?"
"No. It's not you," said Penny. She was going around the office, collecting her bag and things to leave. "No one is immune to hypnosis."
"Especially not if they want it as badly as I do," said Nadia.
Penny paused and looked at her. "No. Especially not you." Penny's distracted expression softened. "I promise it's not you." She reached into her purse and pulled out a wallet. From that, she grabbed a business card. "Here," she said as she handed it Nadia. "This is my personal number. Call me to find another time to try again. I promise it's not you. We'll just have to figure out what was wrong my equipment and try once more. Okay?"
Nadia took the card and smiled. "Okay."
Penny's phone vibrated. She checked it, and put it into her bag. "But I really do need to go." Penny walked out of the office and Nadia followed.
"I have to go too. I have a meeting with my principal."
"You teach?" Penny's heels clicked as they walked through the poshe living room towards the elevator.
"High school English," said Nadia.
"That's ... cute," said Penny. She pressed the button for the elevator, and both women stood side by side, waiting for it to arrive. "We need more people like you. Teaching, that is," said Penny.
"Thanks," said Nadia. She was used to people thanking her for her work. It's what everyone said when they didn't know what to say about her work. It was fine.
The elevator arrive and they both stepped on it. Penny pressed the button for the lobby, and they both waited while they descended dozens of floors.
"I'm sorry I can't help you more with Joe," said Penny, checking her phone again.
"It's alright. I don't think he was really that into me."
"Using you for your body?" joked Penny.
Nadia didn't laugh.
"He has to come back, right?" asked Nadia. "He can't have moved to Hawaii."
"I've heard of people doing crazier things," said Penny.
"Yeah, but not Joe. Joe wouldn't do that."
The elevator beeped and the doors opened to the lobby. "You wouldn't believe what people can do with the slightest push," said Penny.
Nadia opened her mouth to respond, but Penny was already clicking away down through the lobby, towards the front door.
Nadia stared out of her cramped apartment while the cup of tea warmed her hands. Around her were scattered clothes, unfinished paintings, stacks of books, and of course, her journal.
Her journal was never far from her. Her therapist told her to write down her dreams, including her daydreams. If any were interesting, she was supposed to bring them to him.
But she would never let anyone see what she'd written down.
On the tiny saucer by the windowsill sat two blue pills, two large white pills, and one maroon-ish circular pill. Tea and pills. 4:30. Everyday. Her appointment with her principal. ADHD. Anxiety. Mood-swings. All the fun stuff.
For years, Nadia's mother didn't hesitate for the latest regiment. Whatever the dose. Whatever the cost. "Medicine is for sickness. You don't debate doctors."
But Nadia had sought more natural cures. Meditation. Yoga. Therapy. And ... hypnosis.
It didn't work. It never worked. Even with one of the most powerful hypnotists in the world, Nadia was still broken. And what did she expect? Penny would put her in a trance and take away her problems? Her faults? Her weaknesses? Penny would snap her fingers and Nadia would finally be perfect.
"It doesn't work like the stories," she muttered. She took another sip of her tea, turned around, and grabbed her journal.
This is where she kept her dreams. Her daydreams. Her nightly dreams. Her nightmares. Her ... wet dreams. And they were all wet these days, more and more so. Each one started the same. Another hypnotist. Another promise of her gaining control of her mind. Another hope. Their inductions were different, but they all wanted her to go deep. They wanted to take her under. They wanted to make her blank so they could feel around and see what she was made of.
Last night's dream featured an intelligent hypnotist: dark eyes and thick glasses. He wore a flannel shirt and simple black tie. He was a nerd, but Nadia noticed his eyes glancing at her chest during the trance. She was trancing him, she always did. Her body, her sighs, her soft moans as they took her deeper under.
He wanted her to tell him what she was thinking. But it was nothing. She was thinking nothing. She was a blank slate, something to be written on. She asked what he was thinking, and whatever he said, she repeated. She took his words, and they became hers.
He liked her breasts.
She liked her breasts.
He liked her cleavage.
She liked her cleavage.
He wanted more cleavage.
She wanted more cleavage.
He wanted to see her naked.
She wanted to see herself naked.
And so it went, the marionette strings of his words became her reality. She was becoming him. He was becoming her. She was decreasing. He was increasing. His thoughts occupied two bodies. Her thoughts occupied none. When his thoughts urged her to move, she moved. When her thoughts urged her to move ...
No. She had no thoughts.
He thought she should undress him. She did.
She thought he should touch him. She did.
He thought she should get on her knees. She did.
She did and she did and she did and she did. She agreed. She complied. She wanted. She became he. He moved the extension of his body, formerly her body, until its mouth was around his cock. The extension of his body sucked and licked. The extension obeyed his every whim.
Reading the journal, Nadia squirmed in her seat, clenching and unclenching her thighs. Dr. Hazel didn't want to read these dreams, but Nadia did. She read them over and over. She read them as though they could trance her, as though reading them would make them real in her mind. She sighed as her eyes rolled over the pages, revisiting the dream from last night. Or the daydream from this morning. Or the fantasy driving to Miss Penny's.
One where she becomes a doll.
One where she becomes a whore.
One where she becomes a slave.
One where she becomes a bimbo.
One where she becomes a lesbian.
One where she becomes nothing at all.
All of them calling her, beckoning her transformation. Each one a siren in the dreary sea of her mind. Each one a promise and a fantasy. Each one a dream and a hope. Each one so far away and impossible. Each one naive and remote.
But in her dreams, she could have them all.
Nadia's hand found the top of her mound over her clothes. She pressed into it, sunding thunder and heaven up her body. She pressed again, swirling around. She was already so close. She didn't need a body to cum. She didn't need a mind to cum. When she dreamed, she was always so close to cumming.
Another circle. She moaned, dropping her journal to the floor. Another circle, she fell back onto the bed, spreading her legs. Another circle, she clawed at her dress, trying to get free, but failing. Another circle, she moaned so loud the neighbor banged on the floor beneath her to shut her up. Another circle, and her eyes went wide. The world went white.
She saw Penny, standing behind her, while she told the crowd what a good cocksucker she was. Her phone exploded with texts begging to suck their cocks. She wanted to. Penny wanted her to. Penny made her. Penny remade her.
She came.
She tore at the sheets, writhing around, but she kept quiet. She didn't want to get thrown out of another apartment for being too loud.
When she finally caught her breath, she returned to the window. The tea was cold. It didn't matter. She took her medicine anyways.
Anything to help her mind.
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