The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

ONE:

M:

What do you want? Out of me. Men in general.

W:

Oh. Bold question. I wish to lie in bed all day being fed grapes and my medications by a doting male of the species. I contribute nothing. Maybe some approving glances. Grape juice gets on the sheets. You are... leaning forwards! Not running away. W-what is happening?

M:

So you’re bringing nothing at all to the table. Me being the table. Or men in general being the table.

W:

Uh. Well, if you have too many grapes, I can help with that. Stop leaning forwards? You’re supposed to lean backwards and give the ceiling this look when I say the grapes part. And definitely the medications part. I want to be clear on this. I will need to be on your health plan.

M:

But I’ve leaned forwards. Look. Lean... forwards. Maybe I really like grapes.

W:

The last seven guys HATED grapes.

M:

Alright. So. I’ve leaned forwards. Now, tell me why I should select—you. Your name... there it is. Wren.

W:

Uh. Wow.

M:

And I’m Micah.

W:

I m-mean, I have birthing hips. My offspring will slide out of me. I am a natural slip and slide. You’re nodding.

M:

Yes. That is a positive. We don’t live in that era, but good birthing hips used to mean no-trouble ten or eleven kids.

W:

So, to clarify, I wasn’t flirting there? It was ironic, at best. Men on these things don’t usually say, oh good, birthing hips. For all the births you’ll be doing, I guess after the grapes. It’s—Micah? Okay. Micah.

M:

No? Not a positive?

W:

No, I mean, I suppose it is? But—look, you can’t say to a girl ‘tell me why I should pick you’ especially on a speed date thing. I feel like something sexist is occurring. But maybe mate selection is—and I did say—umm.

M:

It’s a good opportunity to talk about yourself, though, right? Everyone’s favorite subject.

W:

So, cards on the table, b-basically I didn’t actually think I would talk to a man at this length. This is supposed to be a montage sequence about learning to talk to people, including boys, to the extent boys are people. It’s a cheap therapy technique. DId I think I would be extolling my baby chute? No. Did I think we would continue to discuss birthing hips? Again, no.

M:

We’re back to the breeding hips again.

W:

Yeah. And look, you may not know this, but that’s all medical myth. The key to speedy childbirth is the pelvic floor, and that’s all skeletal. If you’re one of those Birth My Heirs, Female guys, you should really be asking for x-rays instead of examining my ass. Are you—wait, are you one of those guys? My red flag detector is not on, the batteries died years ago, and it takes a 9V, such a pain to replace.

M:

Yes. As red flags go, I’m a pirate navy. So now I have to ask, how is your pelvis structured? Skeletally.

W:

Incredible. I have top-tier bones. The juicy and squishy parts, not as much. And yours, sir? How are your bones?

M:

Sturdy. I don’t know what you’re looking for, in a male pelvis. Are we actually dancing around the, are you looking to have kids, conversation?

W:

Oof. Okay. I’m calling a timeout. I mean, yes, I mean, I thought we were just having a really awkward conversation, and honestly, that’s where I shine. I have a condition where if I have to be sincere I melt into a puddle of goo that slides into the drain. And I stutter.

M:

Oh. Sorry—I don’t—I’ve heard of irony. In books.

W:

You were being SINCERE this entire time? Ohhhhhhhhhh boy.

M:

Sorry. Yes. I thought we were flirting. I’ll be more direct.

W:

This was INDIRECT?

M:

I am interested in you, I am interested in what you have to say.

W:

Uh-hh. Oh.

M:

So. Lets keep going. Kids? And how many.

W:

It’s a—a reasonable question, I guess. I will answer sincerely. Wow, I haven’t used that part of my mouth in so long. Okay so, we girls feel it too. You see a bunch of eligible bachelors and your mind starts to sort them by genetics. I think that’s a reason girls like tall guys. Easy to sort. What does your card say? Oh, right. You’re the rarest male height of all.

M:

Sorry?

W:

It says you’re 5’11”. You must be the only dating man in the world who says they’re 5’11”. It turns into six feet so easy. Points for h-honesty.

M:

I can promise you slightly above average genetic material. With a few interesting twists.

W:

Your genetics are a decent Netlfix movie. A 7.5.

M:

Thank you.

W:

I’m... wow, too much time on the Internet, Wren. I’m trying to turn the irony off but my throat is—my very v-vocal cords. There. Kids! They scare hell out of me. I can’t even persuade myself to get out of bed, sometimes. Often. Weekdays. I can play the maracas with my pill bottles. How am I gonna persuade a person to, I don’t know, what do kids do, go down the slide?

M:

Persuasion. That interests me.

W:

Okay, if you lean any more forwards you will HURT yourself. A-alright. I’ll tell you. I don’t know why. You have won the visual novel of Wren, and unlocked an actual thing. I do want to have kids. Even if I probably shouldn’t.

M:

Tell me why you should have MY kids.

W:

Wow! Okay, wow. Can you—struggling with this eye ! Was not expecting any of this!

M:

You told me you rated my genetics highly. And you also told me, you value persuasion. Me too. And I like grapes.

W:

And we both have mighty pelvises. You’re saying we have a lot in common.

M:

Birth canal. Heirs. And you’re very easy to talk to, Wren. Don’t make that face. You are.

W:

Oh! Uh. Yeah. Well, thanks. Why is your hand out like that.

M:

You rest your hand on top of mine briefly. It demonstrates we’ve made a connection.

W:

Oh. O-okay. There.

M:

And then you feel a slight Glow.

TWO:

W:

So. You went out with me. That speaks very poorly of you.

M:

Excuse me?

W:

It’s that joke, I forget how it goes, any club that would have me as a member must SUCK? That was a big event with a lot of women, and you texted this one, you fool! I tried very hard to warn you. I feel like you should give me another chance to crap on myself.

M:

Oh. I see. Talk me out of you, I guess?

W:

Yes! I’m excellent at this. So, p-parents, I live with them.

M:

Probably ninety percent of the girls—

W:

I’m sorry, did I say them? Because I meant, Mom, because I am the product of, yes, you guessed it, divorce, at the worst possible age.

M:

Uh. Birth?

W:

I can see you weren’t a ten year old girl who went through a nasty parent divorce. Dad is so far out of the picture he’s in a different museum.

M:

Sometimes, Dad being out of the picture, is for the best.

W:

And here, look at my phone, these are the medications I take! You’re going to have to scroll!

M:

That’s a text message. It says.. you’re texting someone named Lauren. Texting 5’11” Guy Back, and he gets the blue skirt.

W:

Ahhh. Ahh. Ahhhhhhh.

M:

But you’re not wearing a blue skirt. It’s red. Is there another 5’11” guy maybe. It is a reasonably common height.

W:

Blue skirt was dirty. So you get the other skirt I own. Okay, here’s the list. And also I use my hypnotic powers to make you forget that text message!

M:

Oh, your hypnotic powers. Yes, I can feel them affecting me strongly. Alright, that’s a list of drugs, alright. You don’t think I take a bunch of medications? We’re in our early twenties and we’re both white, of course we’re heavily medicated. For me its headaches.

W:

For me its my personality.

M:

Wren, lets be honest with each other.

W:

No, wait. Not yet. I—you’re putting your hands across the table. No, let me make my pitch to break up. You h-have to hear the entire thing.

M:

I am withdrawing my hands as requested.

W:

I also have sixty percent of an associate degree in graphic design and I currently work at Kohl’s. Okay, if you have to do the hands thing, if you absolutely MUST.

M:

The issue is—

W:

I’m not going to—do you want me to hold your hand. I can’t do that, especially after the text message thing. It felt—kind of—when I touched it at the event—

M:

Hold the hand. It will not bite you. It’s the mouth that does that.

W:

And—

M:

Okay, good. Wren, you need to listen to me now.

W:

Uh- I—

M:

Walk up and down this aisle.

W:

Walk? What are you—

M:

Just do it.

W:

Um. Okay.

M:

No. You’re doing it ironically. You’re doing this—thing with your hands. Walk up and down this aisle, wearing the skirt. No jazz hands.

W:

O-okay. Okay. Done?

M:

Yeah. Here’s your problem. I am looking for a girl with serious, serious, personal issues who is interesting to talk to and who looks cute in a red skirt and has wide birthing hips. That’s my exact criteria. Alright. You can talk again.

W:

Did you really just give me an ass inspection? Are you straight-up s-sexist?

M:

I am interested in having sex. So, yes? Take my hand again. I don’t lie. I looked at all of you. All. Although that did include the ass of the butt.

W:

Micah, you can’t just ORDER a girl—

M:

I will, though. And you’re very cute.

W:

W-what if I’d worn the blue skirt?

M:

We’d be through. We would not have gotten dessert. But since you did I think we should get the cheesecake. Next date I think will be the Museum.

THREE

W:

I feel—off. Stand there. I want to—try something, okay?

M:

Standing.

W:

Yeah... so... you know how I mentioned I’m a big ball of bad vibes? If I’m all the way over here, shouting at you, I can feel my nerves twanging as usual. But if I’m closer—and if I hold your h-hand...

M:

A lot of girls would just say something like, I am attracted to you.

W:

No, it’s—not—

M:

You don’t have to keep walking towards and away from me. I know what your butt looks like, now.

W:

Okay good because that was a little—order-y, wasn’t it? Before? It wasn’t even like, a suggestion. You told me what to do. That’s bad. R-right?

M:

Oh. No, I guess we should talk about that. I’m not going to stop doing that. But I will take your feelings into consideration, unlike other of my family.

W:

Micah! It’s—umm—okay, see, this is what I mean, I get a little too close and I forget—what I’m doing—

M:

Twirl.

W:

N-no...

M:

You wore a twirl-y skirt. You can complain about it. I like that. But do it.

W:

One twirl.

M:

I never said multiple twirls. If I had, I would’ve specified. Good. Now take my hand. My brother Cyrus said that the second date is the holding hands date. And this might even be our third date.

W:

Umm—alright. But only because I’m competitive. There’s a lot of couples at this museum and I want to get a high score. Lauren says I should tell you I spent like three hours getting ready. She thinks that when you start a—you know. A thing. You should be really transactional about it. Says Lauren. She thinks you should know what the inputs are related to the t-thing.

M:

A relationship?

W:

Wow. Micah, I’m struggling with what era you’re from. We’re supposed to dance around it and have inconclusive texts and situationships. You’re just like, well, here’s a girl, time to go on normal dates and do normal date progression stuff. Is this also from your brother?

M:

Yeah. But I like the transactional idea. Three hours is impressive. I’m impressed. Hold my hand. Good.

W:

Or maybe you’re like, a video game guy. I kind of like that. I feel like you’re—I don’t know. Like you’re looking to score affection points off me. Like you give me a fish and then two hearts flutter over my head with a ‘+1’ next to it. That would explain the orders, Mister Protagonist. I don’t—

M:

Wren, why are you dating me?

W:

Uh-h.

M:

Tell me honestly and sincerely.

W:

I don’t—I mean, if we’re being real? We’re being real. I don’t know if we ARE dating. Because you don’t know me well enough. And come to think of it I don’t know you at all. SO we are not dating each other we are dating imaginary VERSIONS of each other. It’s basic Plato, Micah.

M:

Alright. The Greeks. Can we tour their statues again? I like the statues the best. Did you paint your nails for this date? That being what it is, a date.

W:

Y-yeah.

M:

+1 Micah points. Hey, no hitting Micah. -1 Micah point.

W:

Why the statues? You like naked ladies? But, 3D?

M:

Yes. I like naked ladies. Wren, we are dating. I am dating you. Conventionally.

W:

Technically. Dictionary definition.

M:

We are dating. What do you want out of a man that you’re dating? To reiterate: you’re dating a man. Me.

W:

I don’t really know. I don’t know. I didn’t think I’d get this far. I’m a six, maybe a six point two, on looks. What did I want? Adventure! Romance! Like I read in books featuring nines!

M:

Okay. Thank you. I’m not doing either of those, just a heads up. I want to be entirely honest with you.

W:

No adventure, huh?

M:

No, Wren. I should tell you how this is going to go. Standard, normal dates. Conventional courtship, followed by a customary and typical set of life events. A totally thoughtless life. Straight and narrow, on a rail. That’s the thinking. Well. My thinking. You are along for the ride. Does that sound okay? The time to get off the ride is now.

W:

Uh-h. I mean, Micah—I’m going to have to—look, I struggle to buy enough underpants. This is why we shouldn’t be dating. I’m like, this isn’t going to work, I sometimes cry while brushing my teeth, and you’re like, second date, I’ve booked us matching gravesites at the local cemetery. That’s—that’s not like a meeting of the minds.

M:

Third date, I think.

W:

Oh yeah sorry third date. Y-you’re such a handholder, Mister Micah. Most guys are like... umm... sorry. This is a lot. I feel a little—warm—

M:

Minds don’t need to meet. Sorry, lets both sit down, I’ve given myself a—kind of a headache. Okay. Nice statue. They used to paint the eyes on, but I kind of like them this way. Just lean against me. There you go. You really think you’re a six?

W:

I am... proud of being a six. I’m gonna form the sixes union. We are just attractive enough. That’ll be... that’ll be our motto.

M:

Ungh. Hold on. Pills time. Give me a moment.

W:

Um. I feel—warm. Not tired but—tired. Micah—I don’t think—

M:

Okay, better. No, lets keep holding hands. Listen. I’m just going to tell you what to do, for the entire time. If you don’t like that, tell me before the fourth date.

W:

No—it’s—I feel warm around you. Like... something is... draining out of me... I think... but its like... the non-warmth.

M:

Calm. That’s what being calm feels like. Give me a moment. This is a bad headache. Okay. Back to naked Greek ladies. This is what dates are all about.

FOUR:

M:

Fourth date. This is the one where you come inside my house.

W:

Um. Y-yeah I guess it is. For an architectural tour. See some.. buttresses. Columns.

M:

Yeah. This is the makeout date, to be clear. And I touch your boobs.

W:

Oh it’s THAT date. I thought boob-touching was the sixth and a half date.

M:

No, it’s this one. To be clear, not a lot, and in a respectful way. Over the shirt. Come on in. I washed my hands, if you’re nervous.

W:

Yeah, that’s it. No one wants dirty boobs. No—I can—I can do this. The girls told me there might be some kissing and minor over-the-shirt breast fondling. I was actually prepared to—anyway.

M:

H—

W:

Hold your hand. Yeah. I know. You and hands. They’re just for gripping things. It’s just fingers.

M:

There we go, no hesitation this time. Your heart slowed down right away. I like holding hands, I can keep a finger on your heartbeat.

W:

Weird. I’ve never been in a man’s house before. I kinda—I kinda feel—okay, so, it’s very horror-movie coded to me. Heart racing, hands—I mean you know what an anxiety attack looks like, we’ve been dating. Or at least you must’ve looked it up.

M:

It’s okay. You feel warm and safe, right? But it’s not my house. My Dad. See, I live with a parent too. It’s just he owns a lot of houses. A LOT of houses.

W:

Oh, okay. I was too nervous to make a comment about how it looks like an Air B and B. I mean, that’s a step up from most boy places, I’m told. Cary used to date a guy where she had to wear shoes in the house or she’d step on something slimy in the night.

M:

I actually had to de-decorate. My Dad owns—sorry—works with an interior decorator and he had her do his residences as different movie themes. This one was Jungle Book themed. The old Disney movie.

W:

Ohh. Oh.

M:

There was an enormous snake plushie in the guest bedroom. He’s tough to work with.

W:

Okay that’s a relief you also have a weird parent. My Mom collects coupons. Like, not to use. Just to have. Is that the first thing you’ve told me about yourself?

M:

No. I mentioned my brother and told you I’d never lie to you. Sit down here. Hold my other hand. You’re—hard to calm.

W:

You sound like my doctors. Was this your childhood bed? Because—I need to know so I can have mixed emotions about that.

M:

It isn’t. Actually, Dad doesn’t know I use this one. Easy, it’s me. You know me. We’ve been on four dates. This heart must be painful to have, huh? Thud thud thud.

W:

You’re touching my boob... to monitor my heart rate. Micah, you are so strange. I guess the... I guess the boobs are the gateway to the heart.

M:

Okay... back down to midriff. That was my fault. It goes handholding, midriff, then the tits. You understand that we’re dating, right? We are, just to be clear. I marked that one off. This is basically holding your hand, it’s just higher up.

W:

Oh, sure. Lets go for a walk, boob-holding.

M:

Okay, I like the jokes, but really. Tell me you understand. We’re dating.

W:

But yes, I... agree that we are dating. It’s a relationship. I’m in a relationship, with you. I guess I have to agree, that’s how this dating has worked.

M:

We’re dating. Say it.

W:

We’re dating.

M:

Good girl. +1 Micah points. I’ll mark this one off.

W:

Good g... are you for—MIcah. I know you keep telling me that you have a big checklist in your head but SERIOUSLY?

M:

You don’t like it? Are you sure?

W:

And it goes on and on. There’s a mark at the end listed, Death.

M:

How else should us end?

W:

It’s just—I mean, I don’t know. Like imagine you’re kind of a wreck and someone—someone with a PENIS—says we’re going on the biggest roller-coaster in the park. It goes until we die. Maybe I want the person who lies and says we’re only doing the bumper cars, even if he’s gonna try and fuck me in the car. Sorry—this is—

M:

Just a sec.

W:

Headache?

M:

Yeah. I took some pills when we came in but—headache. Your heart, my head...

W:

And meanwhile I—I’m sorry—I should let you have—you have a headache—

M:

I like hearing you talk. Keep talking. It’ll just be a moment. And put your arms around me. There.

W:

W-why does this... when we’re this close... it’s like... sleep mode. It makes me nervous. Or it’s trying to but... it makes me nervous I don’t get nervous...

M:

Okay. Okay, we’re fine. Wren I’m not going to try and fuck you. I’m just going to make out with you. Like I said.

W:

For what, three minutes and fifty-two seconds? Is that what the checklist says? Micah you’re such a—should I be writing down these orders?

M:

You won’t need to. You’ll . I like your nails, by the way. I want you to keep your nails painted. Ok, three point five two.

W:

Micah! Okay, I know that—okay there’s this feminism book—I can’t the name of it—you know I can’t stuff when you’re super-fucking close and—oh. Mm. Mmmmmm. Micah.

M:

And no thinking. It’ll get easier. I promise.

FIVE:

M:

Thanks—ahhh—thanks for coming—

W:

I have to be careful with metaphors around you. I said that dating you is like going up a scary rollercoaster and you’re like, okay lets go to the amusement park. What if I’d said that dating you was like becoming a pirate?

M:

Yarr, Wren. I like your outfit.

W:

Meritt thinks I spent too much time and money on it. She thinks that the amount of effort has to be strictly proportional to the number of dates. Like, it should be mathematic. I think you’d like her. Oh I almost forgot I have to promenade while you stare at my butt, you weirdo. Do I inspection?

M:

Yes. I told you you’d . And your nails match.

W:

She doesn’t like that either! She had this whole thing about being a woman versus being a doll. And she told me the title of the feminism book and now I’ve forgotten it again because I’m showing my butt off for you in public!

M:

Well. Maybe we’ll need to have a discussion, if she’s talking you out of the shorts. I don’t think I’ve seen you in bright colors before. And the cutoff shirt. I like that too.

W:

The girls voted against it. They said it was underbooby.

M:

How many girls are you friends with? Is this like, Girl Senate?

W:

I went to an all girl’s school and they all practiced their mothering with me. You’re so HANDSY, Mr. Micah.

M:

Yeah. Yes, I am.

W:

It’s like once you touch a spot once it’s, Micah Imperialism. You’ve claimed this land for Micah. You’ve been all over my midsection. You might as well put a condo in my belly button. I can’t believe you—nevermind.

M:

What?

W:

I can’t believe you touched ONE BOOB and were like, okay, done. Now kisses. A single boob! The left one!

M:

That’s what I told you I was going to do. And I wanted to concentrate on kissing you. Did I do a good job?

W:

Y...yeah.

M:

What did you say?

W:

Yeah. You did.

M:

Mm. Oof, this is a bad headache. And what does the wise council of girl elders say?

W:

You’re odd but they are intrigued. I told them you’re like—boy medication. You’re malebutrin. They liked that a lot even though I meant it as like—it’s weird. I hold your hand, I feel—okay. Calm. Calm-okay. LIke it must be Cognitive-Behavioralish. I hold your hand and goosh.

M:

Goosh. Goosh?

W:

Like... anxiety gooshes out. Goosh. And this... warmth... comes in. Gooshes inward. And I’m... okay. But weirdly.

M:

Okay? Well. That’s really all? You get to ‘okay’?

W:

You have no idea how many bushels of therapists and gallons of drugs it took to get me to okay. It’s—they told me to tell you it’s nice. It’s weird but it’s nice. And I like it a lot. It’s... really nice...

M:

Careful, if you put your forehead on my shoulder I’m going to annex it to the Empire of MIcah.

W:

No—I—mmm. You know, other people feel this way all the time? No meds or.... or anything... just... calm. Relaxed.

M:

Docile. It’s okay. Be warm. Ungh.

W:

Uhhh. What? People are—looking at us. I’m bein’ a... bad feminist. I must look...

M:

Ungh.

W:

Ohhh. Ohh my god. Micah. Micah? I’ve got you I’ve got you, come sit down over here. Ohh it’s a bad one?

M:

Fuck.

W:

Oh my god you cursed. You never curse. The Lady Assembly thinks—

M:

Ahhh.

W:

Micah you’re really scaring me. I’m—I’m hyper—I’m hypervent—

M:

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! We need to get to the car.

W:

Micah you can—barely walk—we should get a doctor—

M:

We are going to the car now, Wren. Keep your hands—ahhh—on me. And breathe. We’re both breathing.

W:

Yes—yes, sir.

M:

I fucked up the order of it—my Dad warned me—he said, Micah, this happens to all the men in the family, we get so used to control we think we can control ourselves. The fucker.

W:

I—yes—yes, yes, yes—Micah, whenever I say ‘yes’ I feel—ooohhh—I feel really—ummmm—

M:

Car. Okay. Car. Get inside. Do it.

W:

Yes, sir. Ohhhh yes sir, yes SIR! What is going—

M:

Wren, I need you to jerk me off.

W:

Uhh?

M:

I’m—it wasn’t supposed to—just touch it, ahhhh, I should’ve—god, Wren.

W:

Oh. That’s your penis. Yes. Oh, yes. Okay, I’ll—yes, yes, sir, yes, I’m touching it, sir, yes, oh, god, yes, sir, yes, yes, yes! Oh! Oh you’re—oh, you came. Oh god. Oh god. Oh gawwwwdddd it feels so gooooooooood.

M:

Ugh.

W:

Did I—cum?

M:

God damn everything.

W:

Micah, what just—happened?

SIX

W:

M-Micah? I—you didn’t call for—I was w-worried. Oh god this is—I’m sorry—just a second—what is WRONG with me? You didn’t call for—it’s been three days and—sorry, my a-anxiety has been super bad—

M:

Wren. I’m sorry.

W:

Oh my god you’re breaking up with me. This is how breakups start.

M:

Hey—whoa, whoa, whoa.

W:

Yeah, men only apologize when they’re going to do something worse than the apology. Iron Law of Men. It’s an Iron Law, Micah!

M:

I—I’m not aware of the Iron Law of Men. I just spent thirty-six hours in a dark room and then another... twenty-four being really embarrassed and humiliated.

W:

It’s—it’s o-okay.

M:

I don’t know what to tell you about what happened.

W:

Oh! Oh, okay, but it’s fine, really. I’ve been... looking into this... cumming helps with migraines, right? You could’ve just—told me. That’s—I was doing all sorts of research on it, I actually think its really neat. It’s like nature’s painkiller, you know? And that was—a-actually my first ever handjob and I think I did a pretty good job of it! You were gooing everywhere.

M:

Uh. Yes. You’re probably wondering why YOU came.

W:

Yeah, but... I... I think that what happened was... I mean y-you know what—I probably spent two hours listening to a podcast on it—I think the reason I—you know—got a little excited was it felt really good to help someone with a problem instead of being the problem that was helped. Like, really good. It felt really, really good.

M:

Wren.

W:

And I was making fun of you like, oh where’s the adventure Micah, it’s just a spreadsheet and a checklist, and then suddenly we’re hauling ass across an amusement park so I can jerk you off in your car, that’s an adventure, you know? That’s a memorable c-couple adventure.

M:

Wren—I guess we don’t really talk on the phone, do we—I—

W:

Y-yeah I haven’t held your hand in d-days! It’s—I got pretty used to it—ha ha! And now you’re g-gone. I was so w-weird about just saying we’re dating and now you’re gone, good job Wren.

M:

Wren.

W:

You’re probably thinking what a weirdo I am, to—um—cum, really hard, while you’re having a migraine, and then when I licked my fingers, I mean, I’m not sure why I did that either. I know I was babbling something? It was definitely—weird. But the rollercoaster was fun. We could go back. Lets just do that day over again!

M:

Wren.

W:

You found a new six point three. That’s what it is. You were like—oh right all she has is a fat butt. It’s America there’s lots of those. She has one of those faces you design in video games for a laugh.

M:

Don’t do all this.

W:

And her self-esteem sucks. And she s-stutters. Oh god I stuttered on stutter.

M:

Wren, we do need—time.

W:

Oh.

M:

You’ve probably picked up on this. I need—control. A lot of control. You’re not an excel spreadsheet, it turns out. I just—I wonder if—I think maybe in a few days, not around me, you’ll realize—

W:

Oh. Oh. It’s just—you just TOLD me we were dating and I kept fighting it but afterwards I was like—wow. We’re dating. I liked it. I really liked it. And then right away...

M:

Wren, it’s for the best. I can’t really say why. It’s better for you. I like you as you. Maybe it shouldn’t be us.

W:

Oh.

M:

I’m sorry.

W:

Oh.

SEVEN

W:

M-Micah.

M:

Wren. You’re—it’s really, really raining.

W:

I know we s-sort of broke up. I mean, you dumped me, you—fucker! You dumped me! For giving you a handjob!

M:

You’re right. I did.

W:

And I—my anxiety level is so crazy, it has never been this bad, I couldn’t sleep and finally I was like, you need to have some self-respect and tell Sir Micah what—what—

M:

You’re—hold on. I need to think. I’m not good at suddenness.

W:

It’s totally f-fine if I stand in the rain, I feel like I deserve rain, you know?

M:

No, you don’t deserve rain. Damn it. Alright. Damn. Alright. Wren. I have big questions for you. Is it true that you have no one else you can go to, when you’re doing really badly. All those girls that live in your phone. Your Mom. Kindly—neighbors, I don’t know. I need to hear you say this. It’s me or the rain.

W:

Micah I already know how incredibly pathetic I am, please, do we need to fill out the quiz? Yes. Yes, all my friends live in other cities and stuff. My parents are like two fire alarms that go off all the time, in anxiety .

M:

I need to be—sure. And this is—you’re sure its your anxiety? You can barely breathe, all that. It isn’t just, empty feeling without Micah, need warm and fuzzy Micah squishies.

W:

Micah—please—PLEASE—this is—I’ve had a lot of worst moments in my life. I’ve had a lot. And now I’m standing outside my ex-boyfriend’s house because I am scared of myself, by myself. My options are you. I—missed you so bad. Your hands. Even your—I missed you saying things like, now it’s time to touch one breast, matter of factly. I missed THAT.

M:

Come here. Pull up your skirt. Don’t ask questions, just do it. Pink, with a little bow. Damn.

W:

W-what?

M:

I guess we’re meant to be, Wren. Come in. You can put your skirt back down. We’re back together. We’re dating again. Put your arms around me and breathe. Hold my hands.

W:

After—all that? Why did you—you PUT me THROUGH—

M:

It’s okay. Arms around, hug, sniff, touch, all that, lets go. You’re shivering. Lets get your heart rate down.

W:

Why did you—

M:

You’re mine now.

W:

What—ohhh—

M:

I even deleted the checklist. I wonder if I can undelete it. I don’t know much about computers. Come on, keep hugging, sit down, don’t worry about how wet you are. Here, I’ll take my shirt off. Just kind of bury yourself.

W:

You’re WEIRD, Micah. I guess I’m weird. We don’t have to get back together. This was more, like, if I had one phone call in jail—ummmmm—oooh. I—I was—it was really nice to not be lonely and when that was gone it was—I didn’t even know I was taking a drug, you know?

M:

I got you. Just relax. You’re mine now. Just let the glow fill you up, let it make you feel good. You don’t need to think anymore. Although I like it when you talk. We’ll work on that. You’re back on the boat. I won’t ever let you off again.

EIGHT

W:

So, Micah, I want to START OVER on the relationship. I even made my own checklist, to show you up. The first thing is, Micah forgets all the embarrassing things I said and did over the past week when my meds were obviously way out of whack.

M:

I don’t forget very much.

W:

You will, UNDER HYPNOSIS! I brought a watch.

M:

A digital watch. A Casio. Did you buy this just now?

W:

I figured it was also for telling time. So the past week where I was crying all the time, and dangerously needy, and came over and then fell asleep right away on your couch, you are forgetting all that, as I speak it! OooOOOooooooooh.

M:

Oooh. Like, ghost noises. Are you a sort of, a hypnotic ghost maybe?

W:

Surrrrrreeee ooooooooh. And THERE. And now we’re just dating again! We’re normal! Thank you watch... thank you...

M:

So. We’re starting from scratch. Birthing hips and grapes.

W:

Yes! Sorry—emotions again—I’ll just wipe my eyes quietly—unfortunately even with the reset button and hypnosis I’m still me—Micah, can you tell me ONE THING that you’re into?

M:

Me? Like, favorite movies?

W:

Oh well I can guess that. It’s Fifty Shades or Secretary or one of THOSE. No, I already know you’re a DOM, Mr. Walk Towards Me. Mr. Twirl, Mr. Paint My Nails, I Picked Our Gravestone Out. Mister mister... mister. Uh. Mister.

M:

A what?

W:

Sir... Uh! Yeah! Micah, you’re a DOM! You’re a dom-y dom-y dom-dom! Give girl orders, girl obeys orders, you’re like God made a dom in the LAB. And that’s—sort of interesting, I did some reading.

M:

I don’t know anything about all that. Oh. You’re talking about—bondage? Ropes and gags and all of that? Whips and chains? You think that’s what I’m into.

W:

Okay I didn’t say anything about whips and chains, you did, we can have an adult discussion about boundaries. Actually I’m looking forward to it, because nail polish is expensive and I work at Kohl’s part-time and I cannot afford any more peremptory orders. You know I did my nails every day when we were broken up?

M:

Ohhhhhh. Okay. Alright. You’re making sense of this by—okay. Wren, I—I have my own embarrassing thing to tell you.

W:

I need to go jerk you off again.

M:

No....t currently. Wren you’re my first ever girlfriend. First.

W:

No. No way.You’re Mr. Suave. Your whole thing is, hello world, I’ve got you figured out, the world BORES you, Micah. You’re very experienced and you have sophisticated sexual interests. And I am your latest would-be conquest.

M:

You’re the number one. When we kissed, that was my first kiss. Ever.

W:

That was your first kiss, no. It was pro kissing. I was like—it was scary kissing, and the way you held my wrists, you just did that without training by professionals. Micah, these are LIES. You are gearing up to show me your sex bondage room with the Iron Maiden in it. And a guillotine or something.

M:

A—a GUILLOTINE?

W:

I’m not the sex kink guy! I don’t know! I just w-watched those movies for the first time y-yesterday.

M:

I don’t lie. And the kink is, you’re the girlfriend and we are very normal. There’s a plan. That’s why I—kinda wanted to give you an opportunity to get off the boat. The boat is going on a voyage. At the end of the trip, we will be different. Or at least you will be. Anyway.

W:

Is this about pirates again. I know you’re not good at metaphors, Micah, I worry we’re really going around the Straits of Magellan or something.

M:

See, it’s good to take this trip with someone funny, who is good at talking, things I’m definitely not. I’ll handle all the steering and sails and everything else. Anyway this is a long way to gear up to—I don’t have a “dom kink” or anything like that. I—my family—I’m going to tell you what to do. It’s not a sex thing. Or it’s more than a sex thing. It’s just—how it is.

W:

And that’s fine, we’re adults, we can come up with reasonably boundaries, and safe words, like banana, that’s one, it’s... whatever year it is... Micah you’re holding my wrists again in a way that’s like—ummm—anyway we can talk about it! Why you want to keep painting this pig I don’t know but we can talk about it.

M:

You still going on about that?

W:

I don’t have a strong self-identity Micah! I have to hold on to something! And being a six point two three three is part of it.

M:

I should just show you. Sit in my lap.

W:

We’re—in PUBLIC? In this skirt? I have to keep my legs crossed—this is my, get back together skirt.

M:

Sit in my lap, Wren. There. And that’s how this works. It’s not... whips and chains. I tell you to sit in my lap, and you do, and you feel good. I promise to consider your feelings.

W:

You’re j-just gonna—

M:

You’re on the boat, Wren. Your heart rate is slowing down, you’re leaning into me, you feel calmer. Happier, warmer, all those things. You haven’t even thought about other people looking up your skirt.

W:

Ummm—we should—talk...

M:

Tilt your head back. Maybe this will help. Now a man has his hand on your throat. And you’re in public. You should be feeling really anxious about it. I could squeeze. I could do anything. But you don’t feel anxious at all, right? Your heart rate should be skyrocketing, but it’s actually getting slower. You’re getting warm, fuzzy. Almost like you’re melting.

W:

I can—ummm.. Micah... I can feel your cock... ummmm... in my butt.

M:

Yeah. So its not a sex thing, but its not not a sex thing. On behalf of the Nation of Micah, I claim this throat, for Micah. You can get off me now. Ungh. I overdid it a little. That’s okay. Just rest there a bit. Welcome back to the world of dating.

NINE

W:

I took off work. You know, I know it’s all, Mister Micah, orders to be obeyed, but you know I’m not actually—doing that—right? They’re suggestions that I am considering and then maybe and maybe not I’ll follow them. What with me being an adult lady. Strong-willed. Or at least like, willed.

M:

But you did take off work.

W:

Yes, after you called me and said Wren take off this weekend, I did do that, because going on a trip sounded like fun, and that’s why! And I assume you’re paying for everything because if I empty my pockets right now, a couple of moths will fly out. But I won’t empty my pockets because I might need those moths, moths don’t grow on trees!

M:

Let me see your nails. And you did your toenails.

W:

There was a question mark at the end of that one! You don’t know if I painted my toenails or not.

M:

There was no question mark. It was a statement.

W:

There’s no doubt in your mind is what you’re saying. You ASKED me to paint my toenails and maybe I did, maybe I didn’t. Maybe I painted just one of them. My toenails are in a state of quantum uncer—

M:

Wren. Look at me. I know you painted your toenails. You painted them red, like I asked.

W:

You said asked! It was an ask.

M:

Sure. You got me there.

W:

I.. I did paint them. Red. And my nails.

M:

They look great. I like painted nails.

W:

And the earrings?

M:

Also very classy. Thank you. You look—fantastic.

W:

I had to get them pierced again. They’d closed up. I had to go to this—and Claire’s closed down, did you know—well. You’re a man, so no. But I did it. This is a very nice hotel, Micah. I don’t know what your job is. Do you work for your Dad, did you tell me that? It’s kinda hard to stuff when we’re... close...

M:

A lot of people work for my Dad. But no, I don’t, I very much do not. Same industry, though. The logistics of people.

W:

The logistics of people? That sounds—I was going to say silly, but I’m thinking about it, and it actually sounds expensive. It sounds like, you have a crapload of money. Micah do you have a crapload? Of money?

M:

Yes. My family doesn’t have much trouble getting money. We could walk into any bank—anyway. What’s funny is, if you had money, you would’ve picked up on these things. Like the watch. Your watch you hypnotized me with was a Casio, and mine doesn’t have a brand. It has a maker. My Dad could buy this hotel. He may have.

W:

Micah why is a super-wealthy logistics of people HEIR going to a speed-dating event that was 94% a scam? And picking, of all the girls, there was lots of girls there, there were even girls with wide birthing hips—you know how poor I am? We would have my Grandma pretend to have my conditions so that we could get my meds under her Medicare.

M:

That’s really poor.

W:

Is that why? Like, you want someone who won’t say no, she’s too poor, she’s too messed up?

M:

Wren, really?

W:

I—

M:

Sit on my lap and hold my hand. Good. You’re getting faster and faster at that.

W:

Y-yes.

M:

Why do you keep picking fights with me?

W:

It’s—it’s getting harder to. Is that good? As soon as you told me to, I painted my toenails. I did it right away. And then I went out to get my ears pierced again. They were closing for the night but I argued them into it. Because you said so. But—I—will I always—I feel like Wren argues with her boyfriend, she pushes and pushes him away—

M:

Wren, what do you think you are?

W:

Haaaaa my Mom says that all the time. She’s like... Wren... who you are. When I’m gonna do something that’ll make me super anxious. She didn’t even want me to go to that dating thing. She looked me up and down and said—Wren, who you are.

M:

Sit in my lap and we’ll watch the sunset. Let me listen to your heart. Okay. Slowing down. And your thoughts.

W:

M—yy... uh.... thoughts...

M:

Slower and slower. You’re nice and warm?

W:

I feel... like.. a glow...

M:

Uh-huh. There we go. It’s nice, isn’t it? I think it’s time to touch left boob. There we go.

W:

Ummm. It feels good. And then... uhhhhh.... are we gonna finally fuck? Mister Micah? That’s why you brought me here?

M:

Oh no. Not tonight.

W:

Oh—what—what? Excuse me? We’re in the nicest hotel, you don’t know this yet, even though you know everything, but I am not wearing any underpants, I brought condoms, and we are NOT having sex? What the hell, Micah? Is this your spreadsheet again? Oh my GOD!

M:

You don’t trust me. You don’t trust yourself. So, no. We’re not having sex. I’m sorry if that was what you thought this was.

W:

What if I—Micah, I am ORDERING you to have sex with me. Ha-ha! Shoe is on the other foot, with nail polish!

M:

We’re not having sex. Tonight I’m going to finger you while you’re sitting in my lap. And I knew you weren’t wearing panties. I know I don’t even need to lick my finger. I know how wet you are.

W:

W-well—what about your headaches? I bet you—I bet you’re—Micah I command you to fuck me. Please. I’ve been thinking about it all day. I want to. I want to fuck you really bad. When I got my ears pierced I—I almost moaned, I was thinking what you’d say, I think about sitting in your lap....

M:

What if I said I wasn’t ready to lose my V-card? You’d be taking an innocent boy’s virginity.

W:

Unhhh. Unnnnnnhhhhhh. Micah that’s my clittttttt. Please... I can’t talk like this. I can’t think...

M:

I think I’ve got a handle on the headaches. Just relax. Relax.

W:

I AM relaxed. I want—you—

M:

Oh, you can be way more relaxed than this. You’ll see. I don’t know why men are supposed to have trouble finding the clit. It’s right there. All those years playing video games, and even when girls have a red weak spot, they don’t know what to do.

W:

I got—condoms—Micahhhhhhh.

M:

Wren, I know this is tough. You are going to have to learn to trust me. And by that I mean, do everything I say, without question. Can you still hear me?

W:

Unnnnnnnnnhhhhhhh.

M:

Cum for me. Cum, baby. Good girl, good girl. Tomorrow morning you’re going to suck my cock.

TEN

M:

Wren, wake up.

W:

Ohhhh my god. Ohhh my—Micah wait a second. I was lying in your lap. You were feeling me up. What happened?

M:

You came so hard you ed out. I put you to bed.

W:

You WHAT? Micah—it’s four fifteen in the morning. It’s FOUR FIFTEEN. IN THE MORNING.

M:

Yeah. It was only like eight thirty when you—fell asleep, lets call it. You got plenty of sleep.

W:

When I ED OUT from an orgasm, you mean? Micah? What am I wearing?

M:

My pajamas. I didn’t want to invade your privacy by going through your things.

W:

Micah you rubbed my clit so—I guess, good—that I had a medical event of some kind? Shouldn’t you have taken me to like, THE HOSPITAL?

M:

Do you it? Sitting in my lap?

W:

Y-yeah. Yeah... I it. Wait, maybe I don’t. I had some... I had some really weird dreams. Did you have your hand on my throat again?

M:

No. I had one hand on your left thigh and the other hand had three fingers up your pussy.

W:

Oh... yeah... yeah... no—I had—really vivid dreams. Hey, we slept together.

M:

The dreams are normal. Wren. I need you to suck my cock. Right now.

W:

It’s four-fifteen in the morning, Micah.

M:

I mistimed it. My headaches. The plan was we go to breakfast and have a conversation about it and then go back to the room and you’d blow me. Checkout time is at noon. But I mistimed it. Having you this close to me—anyway.

W:

It’s four-fifteen in the morning.

M:

Its probably better this way. First thing in the morning, morning erection, get it taken care of, start the day off. And after checkout I thought we’d go walk the pier and get gelato.

W:

Can I see your checklist. I want to see where you wrote down something like ‘turn down girlfriend asking to fuck you, finger her until she literally es out.’ And then you wrote down something like, ‘wake up, coffee, blowjob, first-ever blowjob by the way, again no sex, gelato.’

M:

It’s in my head. Most things are.

W:

It is now four-sixteen in the morning. What happens if I insist on us having sex? What if I’m just like, tough titties, Mister Micah, we are now banging. Your checklist is in flames.

M:

Wren.

W:

Oh it’s the serious face with the serious—eyes. Oh. They’re serious. Say please.

M:

Get on your knees, right now. I need you to suck my cock.

W:

I—unhhh—I—sh-shouldn’t. F-four. Four...

M:

But you just did. And now you’re happier, aren’t you? You were fighting me, fighting yourself, you felt anxiety and upset about going against what I wanted, and now you’re not. Now you’re on your knees, and you’re feeling better. You’re thinking, this isn’t so bad. Beautiful hotel room, boyfriend pajamas, and I bet you dreamed about blowing me last night.

W:

H-how—

M:

I keep mistiming this. I’m not going to cum in your mouth this time. I’m going to cum on your chest. You can trust me on that. I feel really deeply about self-control. Here’s my cock. I have zero expectations about how good you are at sucking dick. Believe me, I haven’t cum in nearly two weeks, I’m not going to last. You can sneeze on it and I’ll cum.

W:

P-please. It’s—we should—f-fuck. Sex. Make love.

M:

Suck my cock, Wren.

W:

I want—can you say please. Can you ask. I f-feel like that’s—oh god, you’re right—it gushes out of me when I say—no—or even, not yet—I get so cold—

M:

It’s okay. It’s fine. You’re learning, I am too.

W:

Say p-please?

M:

I won’t. It’d be dishonest.

W:

What... w-what?

M:

I’m not asking, Wren. Suck my dick. Here, I’m putting it right next to your nice, fat lips. Beautiful cocksucking lips. That should make it easier. Sniff it. Smells good, doesn’t it?

W:

It’s—umm—nice to say—please? I get so—fuzzy-wuzzy when you’re—

M:

I’m not going to say please because I’m not asking. There you go, baby. Put your thick lips on it. Sorry it’s all drool-y already. I really was going to do this after breakfast. Now wrap them around the cockhead. Good. Good girl. Why did you stop?

W:

P-pwease. Pwease.

M:

I’m not gonna do that Wren. But listen. You’re going to really enjoy this. You think you need mutuality, autonomy, respect, but you don’t. Soon you won’t even care about that stuff. My enjoyment, my pleasure, it’ll be yours. It’s going to be so relaxing to sink onto your knees and open your mouth, it is going to be your favorite thing. I’ve wanted your mouth since the moment I met you—ahh—that’s it—careful careful careful careful with the teeth.

W:

Sowwy

M:

You’ll learn. I’m going to make you really happy, Wren. That’s the bargain. You won’t even what anxiety and stress and all that feel like because you can always suck them away. Ahh. Yeah, what I said about the teeth.

W:

Mmmmm—mmmmmmm

M:

Now I’m going to start doing the work. Just relax. It’s easy, right? You feel so warm and full and that mouth of yours is good at everything. And now don’t move. I’m going to cum on you. It’s okay, Wren. Let my cock out of your mouth.

W:

Mmm! Mmmm mmmmm mmm.

M:

I know, you’re thinking, you’ll do me a solid, you’ll just swallow. But you’re learning. It’ll always feel better to obey me. Always. Close your eyes, I don’t have THAT much self-control, but I’m still learning too. Just suck and lick. Here it comes.

ELEVEN

W:

Okay, first skirt. See how it sits on these breeding hips. I’ll be out in just a second.

M:

Yes.

W:

So the royal council of ladies think I’m being toooooo permissive, and they’re Concerned. Official concerned from the gals.

M:

Oh. Did you tell them about the blowjob?

W:

Not like that. Not like, he ordered me to blow him, and your girl Wren got her self-respect together and SHARPLY REFUSED toooooo actually ha ha I did it. No, no. I didn’t tell them about THAT you pig. I said you got your rocks off ordering me around, allergic to saying please, all that. They had SHARP words. So! Here I am in the skirt. What do you think?

M:

On the skirt? I like it.

W:

But no! I discard it. Even though it saddens me, it was very cute. In a slutty way. I liked the stripes.

M:

I also liked the stripes. You don’t currently have any structured skirts like that, do you?

W:

No... I guess I don’t....

M:

They’re good for being ordered around in. Bend over. Present. Flip it up.

W:

Those aren’t—you’re not—telling me to do that. Right.

M:

Huh? No. Not presently.

W:

Yeah... yeah... well out of mutuality and b-because it’s cute we can put it in the maybe pile. You ARE paying for it. I value your opinion! Even though I am not obligated to follow it, a relationship is about mutual respect. Wouldn’t those words also sound nice coming out of you?

M:

No. Ours isn’t.

W:

I am choosing to use my free will to ignore that comment.

M:

I’m paying for this?

W:

Yes! Y-you’re the rich guy with the richer dad. Wait are you NOT paying for it? I assumed that you’d get off on that! Ohhh little poor girl me... thank you for the sexy outfits that I will wear for you... I’m flooded with gratitude... and eventually, my chest and eyes are flooded with...

M:

I don’t use any of my Dad’s money. He gave me enough already, believe me. Lets return to the royal council. Should I be added to the group chat? They seem pretty against me.

W:

Oh they’re all—I mean, look, you get it. I’m the Troubled One they’re all worried about, I finally get a boyfriend, he’s a lil’ bit controlling. This is a p-pretty old joke and they’ve all heard it before. They’re worried you’re going to reveal the whip and the handcuffs next.

M:

Not until Date Nine. Oh you tensed. That was a joke. I guess we should improve our communications! I’m a virgin, Wren, you know that. I’m actually really vanilla, sort of. You think I’d hit you? I would NEVER do that. I would—I would never.

W:

I think you’d spank me, if I was bad! I thought that was why you picked the girl with the wide, smackable butt as her only major asset. I should prepare. I need clothes with a powerful backside. And I guess they should be easily launderable since you ALSO insist on getting your spunk on me, no please.

M:

I said thank you. I meant it.

W:

That’s not—

M:

I said, good girl.

W:

Y-yeah you did say that.

M:

Oh. So the girls think you’re troubled and I’m preying on you as, you know. Easy to take advantage of. Okay. I mean, they’re right.

W:

Oh—Micah, they are not right.

M:

No, they’re right. Listen. When I was a kid I went to the pet store and I picked out a hamster. And my brother said, Micah, you picked the slowest one. That’s bad hamster selection, it means they’ve probably got issues. Health and otherwise. That one was just easy to catch. But actually you want to catch a fast hamster.

W:

Micah.

M:

And I said no, I want this one. I want the one I picked.

W:

Micah.

M:

Wren.

W:

That’s a terrible story to tell your girlfriend. I’m the slow, sickly hamster?

M:

Yes.

W:

Was the hamster at least CUTE?

M:

You, or the hamster?

W:

Of course me!

M:

Oh. I mean, Wren, that hamster let me pick it up, and hold it, and snuggle it. I didn’t want one of the hamsters that would’ve fought and bit to get away from me. And it was very cute. You and the hamster.

W:

Was there actually a hamster or is this just a weird story that is supposed to be endearing?

M:

Yeah, of course there was a hamster. Jerry.

W:

And it was a BOY hamster. D-did you love Jerry?

M:

Hmm?

W:

A-anyway. Moving on. From hamsters.

M:

Watch. I put my hand out, like this. There. You tilted your head up for me. You knew I’m going to put my hand under your throat. And you didn’t run away. You tilted your head. You know I’m going to kiss you next, so you purse your lips. And just like that, you’re warmer. Happier. Just from me rubbing your throat.

W:

Mmm. Mmmm.

M:

Put on some lipstick. Here, I have a tube. I think this is a good color for you.

W:

You like it?

M:

Very much so.

W:

Mmmmm. Mm... y-you can’t be so new to kisses... the warmth...

M:

I watched some videos.

W:

Yeah, of course you did. Well you could at least buy your hamster some clothes. Your hamster is broke. In part because you insisted I skip work!

M:

Oh. Of course I’m buying you clothes. Come on. I’ve already got them all picked out. I did recon last week.

W:

Wait—the striped skirt—I’m coming around on it—

M:

We’re starting with socks. Yours have holes in them. Pajamas. Yours also have holes in them. Underpants. Again, holes. Did you live next to a moth factory?

W:

I’m POOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOR, Micah!

M:

Undershirts. At least a half-dozen. Bras. You need to be resized, we’ll go to Nordstrom’s on that one. Shoes. We might do that next weekend. That’ll be time consuming.

W:

But then I’ll be able to run away from you.

M:

You just put on lipstick because I told you to. You didn’t even blink. You shiver when I stroke your throat. I think you’ll like your pen, it has newspaper and a wheel. Tell you what, tell your League of Women Voters that I promise to take good care of you.

W:

Are you getting me a leash, too?

M:

Why? Only bad dogs need a leash. Oh, and give me your underpants. You can wear the new ones home. You can put the new skirt on while you’re at it.

W:

Micah! Fun is fun but—we’re in public... we’re at the MALL. And I grew up going to this mall. I sat on Santa’s lap right over there.

M:

And you’ll be bent over Micah’s lap if I don’t get your undies, right now. I’ll say thank you afterwards.

W:

What about good girl?

M:

If it’s accurate to say.

TWELVE

W:

Did you know you haven’t asked me, once, what I’d like to do on these dates.

M:

Hmm?

W:

At the start I thought you were—ASKING but in a kind of oblique way, like ‘I thought we’d go to this restaurant’. But now I know you a little better—a LITTLE—and you’ve never asked. Once. It’s always just—we’re going to an amusement park, or shopping date, or we’re going hiking.

M:

I really like hiking. I would’ve had us go before but you didn’t have the boots.

W:

Yeah I guess I didn’t have the undies either. What did you do with them, you weirdo? Sniff? Sniff-sniff-sniffy-sniff? Did you sell them, is that secretly your business empire in human logistics or whatever it is, selling girl undies?

M:

I threw them away immediately. They were bad.

W:

You threw them away—at the MALL? You just tossed them in the TRASH? My—DNA is on those!

M:

I don’t think it’s a crime, Wren. And if so, I will accept society’s punishment. The ones you’re wearing are much nicer now. I like the little bow on them. Thinking about it, I guess all the ones I got you have little bows.

W:

I.. t-threw the others away. I only own the undies you bought me. Like you told me.

M:

Good.

W:

The... um... my Mom is actually getting worried now. She made me pretty nervous too. I’m also wearing your lipstick and your n-nail polish and the thought of not wearing them made me h-hyperventilate. And we’re hiking.

M:

I told you to call me if anything like that happens.

W:

The girls say no. Like really strongly. I can’t be... that dependent on you. Heather keeps sending emojis of red flags. Also I talked to my Mom about you. She was like, who is this new daughter, emerging from my basement. That was the nicest thing she said.

M:

How’d that go?

W:

Well then I hyper-hyperventilated. I found a new level. I unlocked... stress two. Micah you stress me out and you calm me down. There must be better hamsters.

M:

You’ve been dealing with all this while I’ve just been staring at your ass this entire hike. From now on, you will tell me if you are upset. Do you understand? No more hiding it.

W:

That’s—n-no. No that’s a bad idea. H-hiding it is an effective coping strategy.

M:

No, it’s not! You will always tell me. And hold my hand. We’ll do a hand-holding hike. Take some deep breaths.

W:

Okay... okay... okay, yes. Okay.

M:

Do you know what date this is?

W:

I—I’ve lost track? The past month has been—I went on a speed dating thing and made a joke about my hips, and now I’m looking forward to getting neck scritches. I’m nervous to make jokes about getting a collar. I’m not sure how you’ll look at me, I’m not sure how I’ll feel about it...

M:

I’m going to fuck you on this hike. This is the tenth date. Its where I lose my virginity.

W:

On the HIKE. Not the hotel room, not the one where I saw your room, not the one where I practically begged you to fuck me. When we’re walking around under the SUN in public and I’m wearing BOOTS. And I’m sweaty and gross and anxious.

M:

Its that time, yes. Look, I have an idea. Call your friends and ask them for permission to get fucked on the hike. I can tell you don’t really trust yourself, you’re nervous about trusting me. Call your friends, if you want.

W:

Micah I’m—I’m invested in this relationship—but like—

M:

Lets keep walking. This is one of my favorite trails. I’ve known I wanted to lose my virginity out here for years. There’s a glade, and its in a little hollow, so when you start cumming and screaming, no one will be able to hear.

W:

See, my friends are like... okay this is ALSO the setup for when he turns out to be a BIG MURDERER, okay? Isolated! Location!

M:

I don’t want to stop your heart, Wren. Just slow it down. It beats too fast. In every life you only get so many heartbeats. I forgot to ask if I was taking your virginity.

W:

Y-yeah. I d-don’t know how to fuck you, Micah. I’m sure I’m bad at it. I’m h-hairy and s-sweaty—

M:

Stopping myself from fucking you has been the hardest thing I have ever done. I want you—I have wanted you—so badly. Since I would say, date three.

W:

Micah I’m still kinda GETTING MY PERIOD!

M:

Yeah, I know.

W:

C-can you say please?

M:

No. I’m going to fuck you now. But I will be very, very gentle and you will enjoy it. Oh, you’ll very much enjoy it.

W:

M-Micah, o-hhh.

M:

Turn here. Get wet for me, Wren. I’m going to pull down your shorts and your brand-new panties, and I’m going to fuck you from behind. With your hands on a tree. That’s the plan. I won’t cum until you do. Then I thought we’d have a picnic because it’ll be awhile before you can walk straight.

W:

H-how—you just treat me like—get wet Wren, like I’m your dog—like a musical instrument you know how to play—

M:

But you are getting wet. You probably thought this would be in a bedroom, and we’d kiss for awhile, and sure, you’d lie there while I loomed over you, but it would all basically be normal. The thing is, that’s just not really me, or us.

W:

Us is, SUNBURNED BUTTS?

M:

It’s nice and shady. No, I think ‘us’ is you following me to a place only I know, against the better judgment of everyone you know, where I’m going to fuck you doggy-style, in your boots, with your hands braced against a tree. And you’re getting dripping wet from the idea. I think that’s more us. And we’re here. See? It’s a nice spot.

W:

Even in the hotel room, you were thinking, nah. Better on a hike. Stick to the plan.

M:

It was so, so hard to wait. But it was too soon before. It wouldn’t be fair to you.

W:

It was FAIRER to MAKE me, only LATER?

M:

Come here. Take your shirt off. Bra. Sit on my lap.

W:

I’m telling on you, Micah. You are taking advantage of me! There, I said it!

M:

I know. Let me hold these. Wren, there’s something that’s been bothering me about you.

W:

AHHH. MICAH. NOW? YOU—I am TOPLESS and—

M:

Your self-esteem about your body. I didn’t want to push too hard on it too early. I knew you’d dig in. But now that we’re about to have sex, I want to be clear about how beautiful you are. You are the most beautiful, attractive woman in the world. You are a ten. You’re only going to get more ten. I didn’t say a lot earlier because now I can prove it, by being ceaselessly into your body.

W:

Micah—what are you—

M:

We’re going to be fucking a lot from now on. A lot. Eventually you’ll look in the mirror and see what I see. The way you smile, the way you smell, the way—everything.

W:

I can’t tell if you’re being romantic. You sound like you’re telling a car you bought that it’s a nice car.

M:

Yeah? Lets check out the trunk. Off the lap. This is the tree. Put your hands on it.

W:

Like this, sir?

M:

Good girl. You’re feeling it, aren’t you?

W:

Feeling—yes—yessssss—

M:

Glow. You did really good getting wet for me. Oh—are you on birth control? Well, its fine. Period. See? It was all works out.

W:

Wait—would you—ohhhhh. Ohhhhhhhhh, Micahhhhhhh....

M:

Shh. I can’t believe I get to own the most sexy woman in the world. Ahhhh. There. We’re no longer virgins. It’s okay to moan and be a brainless slut, out here. Okay?

W:

Ohhhhh. Micahhhhhhh.

M:

Good girl, good girl. No, no, you don’t need to squeeze. I’m doing all the work. I’m the lucky one. Thank you for taking my virginity, bimbo. It couldn’t be with just anyone. Lets squeeze these tits here. Mmm. They’re already great, and we’ve barely started on them.

W:

Oh my gawwwwdd.....

M:

It’s okay. Just moan and scream.

W:

It’s tooooo gooooooodd—I feel—ohhhhhhhhhh.....

M:

That’s normal. The first time is a big event. You’re becoming mine much faster now. Can you hear me? No? That’s fine.

THIRTEEN

W:

Hello, Mister Micah. I am calling to inform you that our relationship is concluded. Please do not me again. Good a-afternoon. D-do not call me.

FOURTEEN

W:

M-Micah. Oh. N-no, not too close—oh. I can already f-feel it. S-so goodddddd.

M:

Wren. Please. Hug me.

W:

N-no, I’m not supposed to—it’s my Mom they called her—a-and s-she found out I was getting on birth control—she said—a lot of things—about who I am—

M:

You look—bad. You’re shivering.

W:

She said Wren Who You Are a lot and eventually I was like, oh right. I’m Wren.

M:

Wren should not be shaking like this.

W:

I’m detoxing. I’m—d-detoxing.

M:

It’s too late for that. Hug. I said please. I’d only ever do that for you.

W:

I’ve been a b-bad girl. You’re b-bad for me. I’m supposed to be going to community college and working retail at nights...not w-wearing your lipstick and feeling your cum d-drip out of me....

M:

Okay. I’m going to talk to your Mom.

W:

No! No no no no no no.

M:

Wait here. I might be a bit. Hug first though. Okay. Good.

W:

I feel s-so h-helpless when you’re around and when you’re not around. Just like, different types of helpless.

M:

Wait right here. I know. This is a tough part. You have to trust me. You’re just in-between, is all. Sit here. Do it.

W:

Yes, s-sir.

M:

Ohhhh-kay. It’s done. We talked.

W:

Micah? Micah—oh my god. You’re all white. You look—awful. Oh my god you look awful. Headache? Is it the headache?

M:

S-sort of. She’s—fine. Now. Your Mom. We had a long—talk. Ungh. She was just—just worried for you. And I think I—dealt with that. And some other—things. Ungh. She saw you so—you were so UGLY to her. So ugly. You were—you were just a problem, to her. Lets.... lets go.

W:

Micah, you’re really scaring me. Do you need—relief? I can—I’ll do it, I’ve gotten good at it, haven’t I? I’ll do it.

M:

Drive me home.

W:

We need to go to the hospital.

M:

No! No, we are not doing—that. No, never. My Dad—no. Drive me home.

W:

Ohhhhh I’ve never driven your car before Micah—ohhhhh my god. Micah, I’m so scared...

M:

It isn’t—far. Sorry. Ungh. Took a lot—out of me—I got carried away. She’ll be nicer now. She saw you—she saw you—I got mad—she saw you as a PROBLEM. She saw YOU—unghhh.

W:

Micah?

W:

Micah please what is going on.

W:

Oh my god oh my god.

W:

Micah the whole idea is you handle—things!

W:

Phone p-phone phone phone....

W:

Oh—oh—yes—okay—‘Dad’, okay—

D:

Micah?

W:

SIR? MICAH’S—FATHER?

D:

A girl. Well.

W:

This is WREN I’m—your son’s—your son has—anyway I’m WREN and Micah ed out he was talking to my Mom and he’s—c-cold, really cold, there’s no glow, I don’t feel it, usually it makes me feel so g-good, but now he’s—and he didn’t want to go to the hospital—

D:

He overdid it! My most methodical son, the one who hates me the most, he overdid it. Checklist Micah got carried away. I told him, he should be twenty-four before he does a rapid cut. And he did it for—you, did he?

W:

It’s nice to meet you I’m his girlfriend or something!

D:

Or something, yes. Ha! Ha ha ha!

W:

What do I DO?

D:

You must be very special for Micah to overexert himself like this. Don’t you agree he’s too analytical? He treats the art like a science. We control, but we do not control. Took me thirty years to learn that and none of my sons want to do it the easy way.

W:

Sir your son is ED OUT!

D:

Oh, that. He’ll be fine. Get him into bed and get in with him. Warm him up. Stay very close to him. When he starts to respond to you, encourage it. Let him into you.

W:

Yes. I can.. I can let him into me.

D:

Good girl. Alright, nice to meet you. Well. Girlfriend. Ha. Wren?

W:

Y-yes?

D:

Does he love you?

W:

WHAT?

D:

Ask him. Ha ha ha! Yes. Definitely ask him. Ha ha ha. Very nice to meet you Wren!

FIFTEEN:

M:

Ugh.

W:

Ohhhh thank god. Micah Micah Micah I was really scared you scared the HELL out of me do NOT do that again holy SHIT.

M:

Oh. This is my bed.

W:

I had to DRAG YOU IN. And get naked and lie there with what I thought was your CORPSE basically and—I was sooooo scared Micah... oh my goddddddd.

M:

Oh. You are naked.

W:

You’re so weird Micah. You’re so weird you’re SO weird. I didn’t know you might be okay until you started getting an erection of all things.

M:

Yeah.... yeah. I’m—very sorry. I overdid it. A lot. Your Mom kind of—upset me. The things in her—I try not to judge—

W:

Never do that again. Never never.

M:

You’re crying.

W:

Yeah.

M:

I’m sorry.

W:

I know you—I know it’s because you l—you care about me. I know. I trust you. But never, ever do... that... again.

M:

I won’t. Anyway, the important thing is, you live with me now.