CW: Dumbification, IQ Drain, NonCon Drugging, Puppy Play, Humiliation
Drugging you before you have to cram write an essay that’s due in an hour
Watching over your shoulder to observe how your sentences get worse and worse as time passes
You start with ‘The proliferation of digital media has fundamentally altered the landscape of modern communication, creating new paradigms of interaction that both connect and isolate contemporary society.’
20 minutes pass and the drugs begin to take effect.
‘Digital stuff changed how we talk to each other now it's different because phones and stuff make us together but also separate maybe?’
After 45 minutes you only have 3 paragraphs written for this 5 page paper.
‘phones r good? or like bad? We look at them. but dont look at people. but like we see people on phones.’
You’re squirming in your seat. You don’t understand why it’s so hard to get words on the page.
“Why don’t you try reading your first paragraph again and see if it jots your memory?” I suggest.
“Mhm... good idea.” You nod
You lean forward over your desk, your nose almost touching the screen.
“Pro...lif..fera...tion...” Your finger drags along the screen as you read it slow. “...dig ital... media has fun...da...men...tally...”
Your face scrunches in confusion.
“what does that even meannn?” you whine. Something is seriously wrong, but you don’t know what. You don't even realize you’re drugged. All you know is you feel really funny.
You try to start writing again but you can’t seem to remember what all those letters mean
“w...why can’t i- i don’t get it. i don’t get the words”
“Aw baby what’s wrong? Are you having a hard time?”
“Yeah? Are you going dumb? Are the big words too hard for your little head?”
You whine and nod again, tears welling up in your eyes.
“Aw, it looks like you only have five minutes left before this paper is due. This is the big, important one right? The one you said if you didn’t get a good grade on then you’ll fail?”
You gasp. Your whole body goes tense. You look from me, to the clock, to the blank screen with three paragraphs of nonsense. You’re hyperventilating.
“Shhh, baby it’s okay. It’s not your fault you’re dumb. You can’t help it.”
“Come on, finish it.” I smile, enjoying watching the panic set in. “Write.”
You start to type frantically. Random letters, random words that you don’t understand.
“Shhh, I know. You’re stupid. It’s not your fault.”
I look at the screen over your shoulder
`ghgkjafhgoahreouhgadhgld;shlgh;aeorighadoghjadjhgijdfg`
“It’s midnight. Let’s turn this in.”
“One more thing,” I tug your shirt down exposing your tits, I snap a picture of you, not a thought behind your eyes, drooling in front of the computer screen. “Let’s add this to the document.”
I click and drag, attaching the image at the very top of the document, right above your jumbled, nonsensical title page.
"There," I say, “Now he'll really understand what you were trying to say. A picture's worth a thousand words, isn't it? Even if you can't remember any of them."
You whimper, a small, animal sound of pure despair, trying to push yourself away from the desk, but your limbs feel like they're filled with wet sand. You can only watch, wide-eyed and helpless, as my cursor clicks the bright red "Submit" button. Your breath hitches in little sobs.
“It’s ok baby, this just proves college was a bad idea anyway. You’re obviously too stupid for it.”
I open a new tab, drafting a withdrawal request email to the registrar.
"You won't have to worry about any more big, mean words, or scary deadlines," I coo condescendingly, my fingers moving across the keyboard. "Isn't that better?"
“stop…” you whine. “s’my school.”
“Not anymore,” I hit send, the little whoosh sound sealing your fate. I pat your head, the way you would a dumb pet that’s finally learned its place. “Just my dumb little college dropout now, huh?”
The confirmation notification for the withdrawal request appears on screen,
‘Request Received: Student [ ] is initiating withdrawal from all courses for the current semester. A confirmation email will be sent to your university address.’
The sob that’s been building in your chest finally breaks free.
"What's wrong?" I ask, my tone light, mocking. "You got what you wanted. No more essays. No more stress."
You don't know which is worse: the chemical haze that's stolen your thoughts, or the crystal clarity with which you now understand that you've lost everything. You've been stripped down, brick by brick, until there's nothing left but this. A jumbled essay. A humiliating photo. A promising future I've just deleted with a few keystrokes.
"You'll get used to it. This is your life now. Just a pretty, empty-headed thing for me to play with. Isn't that so much simpler?"
You can only stare, your vision blurring with tears as the finality of it all crashes down. It's not a nightmare you can wake up from. It's just your new reality. Simple, as I said. Horribly, devastatingly simple.
“I think I’ll keep you all drugged up like this from now on. It’s not like you need to think anymore anyway.”
My words don’t even seem to register. Your sobbing has quieted into something worse, soft needy whines.
“You like that, huh, puppy?” I tease. “You don’t have to worry your pretty little head about anything at all. Just have to sit there and look pretty.”
I lean in, kissing the tears off your cheeks. You lean into the touch.
“Let’s get you out of these complicated clothes.” I tug at the hem of your shirt. “You don’t need them anymore.”
You lift your arms with no resistance, letting me pull it over your head. Your movements are sluggish, uncoordinated.
I reach down into your panties. I feel your leaking wet pussy.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? Getting to be a dumb little pet”
“Good. Because that’s all you are. All you’ll ever be. My pet.”
My fingers curl inside you, making you gasp.
“I’ll train you,” I whisper against your ear. “First you’ll forget words, how to speak. Then you’ll forget your name. Then you’ll forget how to walk properly. I’ll keep you on a leash. We’ll go all the way back, until you’re just a sweet, helpless little puppy.”
I press my thumb against your clit and you cry out, a raw, desperate sound.
“I’m going to take everything from you. And you’re going to thank me for it.”