Rachel relaxed as she heard her new boyfriend leave the apartment. It had only been three weeks since she’d moved in, abruptly abandoning the rest of her long-term friends, to shack up with this guy she’d met at the new bar across the road from Central Perk.

She settled down, cross-legged on the floor, and turned her attention to the television. Her new favourite show was on, again. The one she’d been introduced to, that first night back at his place. The one that began with the flashing lights, pulsing bass and spinning spirals.

The show had succeeded in shutting down the parts of Rachel’s mind that could think about looking away, about walking off, about resisting in any way, shape or form. It had then moved on to wiping her brain of any thoughts of her career, ambitions, friends, or family.

Finally, and this was the part Rachel loved, because it meant she got to stroke her sopping cunt and cum, eventually, tasting her juices afterwards, the show taught Rachel the truth about her life, her place in the world, and her role in giving her new boyfriend whatever he wanted from her. Anything at all.