SLUT 4 U – Part I

A student in the last year of college gets his hands on a virus that, when sent through a simple text, will issue an irresistible command. Will the girl of his dreams succumb to its power, or will she be able to resist?

Disclaimer: All characters are entirely fictional and all resemblances to anyone in real life is entirely coincidental. If you are under 18 or offended by sexual material, don’t say I didn’t warn you.

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SLUT 4 U

by Sinistra

Part I

Darius walked up to the common room doors, his heart in his mouth, clutching a small brick phone. He could have used any phone, but this was cheap and somewhat archaic, and he enjoyed the feeling of punching in the keys. It felt more powerful. As he entered, he scanned the room for Isabelle. He’d got her number of a mutual friend over a week ago, because he’d never had the courage to strike up a rapport with her and get it himself. He caught a glimpse of her through the crowd of students. She was wearing a buttoned white blouse and a grey knee-length skirt. Her warm, tanned skin shone, and her face was framed with long locks of rich brunette hair which fanned behind her gorgeous face.

Darius had never had much success with other girls of his age. He had never enjoyed being the centre of attention, and tended to work, eat, and relax by himself. He had never bothered to make friends with girls, nor had he wanted to. Despite his lack of a social life, he thought that only the women who would lie at his feet and beg for his companionship were the only ones worth appreciating. Of course there were no queues of women lining up to do this, so he slowly harboured a resentment for the opposite sex. Why should I lust after these people – who, through no merit of their own, inspire affection and desire – when they don’t give a shit about me? He wasn’t prepared to be humiliated, rejected, or appear weak in front of anyone. However – he could do nothing to help his desires. He had to take matters into his own hands.

He checked his phone for the final time – SLUT 4 DARIUS read the message. He had paid some guy on the dark web to attach a widget to his message, £10 per character, creating a hypnotic frequency designed to make the recipient unable to resist the command, but completely forget the message afterwards. Darius was no expert in computing or neuroscience, but he had been assured of its functionality. He hit send and stuffed it back in his pocket. As he navigated the sea of students, he quickly spotted her face among the crowd. She was standing in a small crowd, talking to some of her friends. They eyed him closely as he approached, but he refused to be intimidated.

‘Hi Isabelle, did you get Miss Williamson’s email?’ he asked.

Isabelle looked up. Oh. It was Darius. ‘No, was it anything important?’ She knew him from English class, but never really paid attention to him or spoke to him outside of lesson.

‘Well not really, I mean -‘ A noise came from her pocket and she held up a finger. Darius shuffled awkwardly. She opened the text. It was just three words, but already she had forgotten what it said. Her brow furrowed, and she slowly put her phone back in her pocket. That was it, thought Darius. She got the text. His blood ran cold.Did it work? Oh God, what if it doesn’t work. He realised his lost cash would be nothing in the face of being branded a creep in front of his entire year. If it got out….His stomach was in knots, and he felt as if suddenly everyone was looking at him.

When she finally looked up at him, her breath hitched, and she seemed to look through him, as if in a haze. A pulse of warmth had seeped through her body, and then disappeared as quickly as it had arrived, leaving her skin covered in goosebumps. In a second her eyes refocused, but with a slightly pre-occupied expression.

‘Sorry, what were you saying?’ she said.

Darius didn’t speak. His heart raced. It had worked! Just like the man had said it would.

‘It’s just that we’ll be in room 82 tomorrow.’

‘Oh…well, thanks.’ Isabelle shook her head, and swayed slightly on her feet. A low rhythmic pounding in the back of her skull throbbed and made it hard for her to think. ‘Sorry, I think I’m having a…migraine or something.’

‘Oh no worries’ Darius assured, ‘I’m already late. See ya.’

The rest of the day passed without incident. Lessons dragged on, and as Darius was more occupied with worrying about whether the text would work at all, he barely remembered anything being taught to him. It was Monday, so Darius shared no lessons with Isabelle, but he didn’t see her at lunch either.

* * *

Darius…

Isabelle woke up on Tuesday, flustered and out of breath. Her nipples were hard under her silk pyjamas, and a wonderful warmth lingered between her thighs.