SLUT 4 U – Part V

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.

SLUT 4 U

by Sinistra

Part V

Isabelle sat in that room for a long time. She felt like she wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn’t come. Her insides felt knotted and cold, and she felt like she was going to be sick. She was calm, and she hated herself for it. She hated that she enjoyed swiping her finger through her labia, licking her fingers to clean herself up. She hated that she would never tell anyone about her condition, and would have to bear this curse alone. She hated that, if Darius were to walk in again and demand her submission, she would spread her legs for him without thinking.

She held the cold phone in her hand. Isabelle sat, blinking, empty.

When she returned home that night, the cum on her inner thigh dried by the cool evening air, her dinner was waiting for her.

‘Hi, darling’ her mother called as she opened the door. She walked into the hallway. ‘You’re food’s on the table. Dad and I – oh honey what’s wrong?’ she said, pulling the pale, wide-eyed Isabelle into a tight hug.

‘Um, I’m not feeling very well.’

Her mother pulled back, frowning. ‘Well, there’s paracetamol in the cupboard, and if there’s anything else you need you just have to ask. Would you like me to make you a lemon and honey drink?’

Isabelle brushed a hair out of her face with a meek smile, and her mother beamed at her.

‘There’s that smile. Come now, you’re dinner’s getting cold.’

Richard and Molly, her parents, shared a concerned look as her and Isabelle entered the room, but after a warm meal of roast chicken, pasta, and vegetables, some of the usual warmth and colour returned to Isabelle’s face. She said goodnight to her parents, cuddled up on the sofa, and her sister, doing her homework by the light of her desk-lamp, and made her way to bed. She fell into sleep as soon as her head hit the pillow, her mind and body exhausted.

* * *

Isabelle tried to keep her mind off things as she got ready for school. As she got changed she suddenly panicked when she reached for her panty drawer. Should I open it? What if I can’t bring myself to put them on? What if I really am a slut? Isabelle thought it better not to take the risk. She felt a calm wash over her. After all, she couldn’t be a slut if she hadn’t succumb to the temptation not to wear panties. Right? Better to leave them.

She tried not to notice the look her father and mother shared as she walked down the stairs, her high heels clacking on the kitchen tiles as she entered. Her new, inspired dress sense had not gone unnoticed. As she sat down for breakfast her sister Ellie looked up and down Isabelle’s body, raised her eyebrows and smirked. Isabelle blushed, but kept her gaze, smirking back.

Isabelle couldn’t deny her embarrassment. After all, who wants to be thought of as sleazy by their own family? Especially a girl such as Isabelle with such a stellar academic record, as well as always being a stickler for the school dress code. But she couldn’t deny the sense of confidence that welled up from within whenever a head turned, a gaze lingered a few seconds too long, or the boys struggled to keep their eyes from slipping downwards to her chest. She had always viewed skimpy clothing with distaste, a perversion of the woman’s right to choose, which her feminist idols had fought so hard to create.

She now looked the type of girl that she would have thought, even a few days ago, Ok, maybe she’s pretty – but why would a guy go for a girl who dresses like…that? But as long as Darius liked it, and the school didn’t do anything about it, what was the problem?

* * *

Scarlett sat in the canteen, thumbing the phone under the table, making idle conversation with her friends. She was never one to procrastinate, and her attitude was no different towards seducing her friends. She sat there, weighing up her options.

She had entertained ideas on the way to school of what to send. She had begun to feel guilty thinking about it, but she quickly reassured herself that it was only temporary, and that she could just ask Darius to reverse the conditioning like he was going to do for her. She would check with him.

Am I really going to do this? Am I really so cold as to sacrifice one of my friendships – maybe ruin my entire reputation – just in the hopes that Darius keeps his word? I take it he wouldn’t want me fucking another guy…Mmm, but I’ve never been with a girl before…

She looked at her friends. They were studious, confident, and independent women. And that’s why it would be so naughty… Isabelle shivered. She had to. Granted, it was fun, but she couldn’t be Darius’ slut forever. I need to find a way out. I could go for someone I don’t really know…may then it wouldn’t be so bad. But Darius said it had to be one of my friends…hadn’t he?…maybe Naomi? Scarlett? They’re so boring, they could definitely stand to…well, have some fun.

Naomi sat next to her. She was cute. Today her raven black hair was tied back in a neat ponytail, and she was wearing a black skirt to match. Her sapphire eyes were always bubbling with excitement, as if she was always on the brink of laughter. She was sat now, chattering away to a girl called Caitlin, a honey-brunette haired girl who was equally as pretty. Every few seconds she would tilt her head and tuck her hair behind her ear. She was listening intently, nodding every few seconds earnestly.

Scarlett was idly flicking through her phone on the other side of the table. Her gorgeous fiery hair tumbled behind her, thick and wavy. Her eyes, like Naomi’s, were also an entrancing blue. Scarlett and Isabelle attended the same gymnastics class on the weekend, and regularly had coffee afterwards, but despite their friendship she had never expressed any interest in boy – or girl for that matter. She hadn’t had a Christian or strict upbringing, but she was undeniably prudish when it came to talking about boys or sex. She reminded Isabelle of herself – well, her old self. Maybe that could change… mused Isabelle. She just needs to loosen up a bit…like me. Maybe she’ll enjoy it. If I had to make love to any girl…it would be her.

‘Scarlett!’ Isabelle said across the table.

She looked up from her phone.