Socked in the head

Things never change easily, she thought.

Habits especially. Shouldn’t be that hard, right? A simple set of recurring actions, every day, about the same time.

But no. Somehow, she just kept forgetting.

She thought about it, she forgot, she did something else, her mind got lost on some silly tangent, dragged along by a chain of ideas… And then the time was gone.

Change…

Oh yeah, she had to change. Just her shirt, freshly stained. Changing did usually involve every article of clothing, usually, didn’t it? Pants, underwear, socks…

Socks…

Her mind was immediately tinged with a dense concoction of submission and blankness, like dye penetrating a glass of water, her focus being grabbed hold of firmly and gently moved exactly where it felt so very right.

She loved socks, she loved socks so much…

She…

She shook herself out of it. Not the time. Though fae would certainly find it entertaining.

She got out her phone and unlocked it with long automatic motions. Maybe fae would even show her faer…

The grip on her focus was impossible to resist, and she knew better than to try. Besides, it felt way too good to.

> sock

> s

> I lvoe socks

> I love socksssssss

> I love

> Your socks

< Oh do you now

> I love socks

> Please

< I hear that so rarely

> Love your sockss

< Come on dear

< up up up

< As adorable as this is

< Knowing your silly little mind

< You were trying to do something

> Guh

> I mean kinda

> Not really

< Sure

< I’m sure you didn’t turn into a drooling leaky sockslut in the middle of hanging up the laundry or something

> I lov socks

< Silly, silly

< up up up dear

< Did you actually want to tell me anything? Beyond the obvious I mean

> Well I wanted to tell you about me getting stunlocked while thinking about changing my shirt

> But

> Uh

> Got stunlocked even worse thinking about you

>And your

>ssssssssssssssssssssssss

< Aww

< Adorable

< Both of those

< But

< up up up

< Come on dear then

< Go change your shirt

>Yes Owner

It was funny how it happened every time. A string being pulled on, the whole unravelling. There were checks in place of course, making sure it didn’t happen when… inadvisable, but it happened so readily at this point, the string easily caught and she was more than happy to come undone.

Work was the usual, a drollness she was thankful for. Fae cared about her too much to let her perversions get in the way, but in the moments she was alone and safe she did tend to slip…

She came to in the bathroom stall.

Ah. She had been drooling.

Her phone glowed in her hand. She lifted it to her face, and-

She couldn’t read the previous messages. Her eyes just skipped over them, her brain refused to process them.

> Ownerrrrr

< Yes dear?

> What do you do >-<

< Mhm? What I did?

< Nothing really

< Pretty much did it all yourself

> Ownerrrrrrrrr

< I’m sure you can pay it no mind

> Is that a trigger

> That sounds like a trigger

< Always so silly

< Like I need triggers when I have control so precise over you mind

< When at any time I can just

< Flick the switch

< off

> yssssssssssss

< and back on

< Just like a toy, truly

< Now come on dear

< Work’s work. Needs must.

< More than happy to steal company time, but can’t do that too much

>Yes Owner

The day goes and on, the girl gets stuck in her head only occasionally, she swears, and did not drool the much anyways. She gets in her car, and while fae would never affect her there, another kind of trance sets in, that of oft travelled roads and automatic movements. So it isn’t until she’s out of the car that she notices exactly where she drove.

Faer and her tricks, she swears. Nothing she’d ever complain about, but surely fae could have just asked her to go to faer house.

Then again, it would have lost a certain… je ne sais quoi.

And the thought that she’d had no choice but go there, that she was controlled that deeply...

She could almost hear faer in her head.

“Silly, silly. Of course you are. You’re my toy, after all~ “

Excitement and anticipation took hold of her, and she hurried through the door, up the apartment stairs.

Fuzzyyyy…

Sooooft…

A voice, firm in her mind, painting everything she felt, everything she was, one brush stroke at a time…

Like the fuzzy, soft fabric brushing against her face…

She melted into the touch…

“...so adorable, blissed out like that…”

No space in her mind for more than a handful of syllables at a time, but she loved it, she loved faer voice…

Truly, this was where she belonged.