Astrid tried, again, to get up and walk away. That didn’t happen, of course.
She hadn’t had high hopes for that. She decided to try for something smaller – shutting her laptop. That should be doable, right? She reached out, fingers brushing the top of the screen… and then slowly, her arm drifted back, hanging by her side.
She tried to feel surprised, but she wasn’t.
This had become Astrid’s routine. She got home from work, opened her laptop, and pulled up his website. The one he’d linked her to after they chatted for a couple of days. The one she was staring at now.
It was fascinating – in the back part of her mind, where Astrid could think clearly, she wondered how it worked. Was it randomly generated? She’d been staring at it for the better part of two weeks now, and it was always fresh, always new. It was built of pretty simple component parts – the page generally showed either flashing colors, blinking words, or pornography. But it was done in such a bizarre, unsettling way, it was like her brain could never get a grip on it.
Pulsing pastel blue shapes bled into a woman being fucked from behind. Words – sentences – flashed on the screen, too fast to read. Astrid could feel them slip between the cracks of her mind, though, burrowing. Sinking deep, making themselves at home.
She fixed dinner at some point, robotically. She ate in front of the screen.
A friend called. Astrid turned her phone off without looking.
She told herself to turn it back on, to call someone. Anyone. To call the police, tell them… well, anything. Pretend there’s an intruder in the house. If someone came and spoke to her, maybe that’d be enough to break the spell.
The phone was right next to her.
She didn’t reach for it.As the screen displayed swirling pink eddies and whorls over the image of two women lapping at one cock, a little window popped up in the corner. A message. From him.
How are you, astrid?
He didn’t message often. Astrid wondered how busy he was – how many girls like her there were, staring at their computer screens, legs spread, their wills evaporated away, waiting for him to contact them?
I’m fine, she answered. How are you, Sir?
Be honest, he said.
I’m afraid. I need to stop looking at this site, she said, unable to lie.
No you don’t.
I need to call for help.
No, you don’t.
Astrid felt her mind change. It was like a kettle boiling – heat, and pressure, and then, sharply, relief. She didn’t have to call for help. She didn’t have to do anything. Sitting just like this sounded wonderful.
You’re doing very well, astrid.
Thank you Sir.
How is work going?
Badly, she said, honestly. They don’t take me seriously.
They had, once. She’d been hardworking, respected. But lately, she couldn’t focus. She called in sick frequently, so she could sit here just like this. She dressed right on the edge of inappropriate.
That’s good, he said. This week, I want you to get fired. Do you understand?
Yes Sir, she said. Again, the pressure in her head. She fought it, or at least she tried, but… it was no use. She was going to get herself fired. She would delete important documents. She would wear something even less appropriate. She would insult her coworkers. She would aggressively come on to her boss. Whatever it took.
Very good. I’ll check back in with you in a couple of weeks. See how devoted to me you really are.
Thank you, Sir.
With that, he logged off. Off to ruin another girl’s life, Astrid figured. She stared at the screen. It was still early. She could stare for several more hours before bed, she figured. Then, work in the morning. She had a task, and she’d do it.
For him.