The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Azuryn sprung up from the bed, Their voice caught in Their throat and a cold sweat running across Their body. Holding onto dreams was a difficulty They often faced, but nightmares? They tended to linger, holding onto Them; Haunted for days, or even weeks ...but it was better than the months it felt as if They’d just lived through.

Try as They might, They couldn’t push it away like other fears, and so They found Themself getting up out of bed. They grabbed the extra Bug-Out-Bag They kept at Ophelia’s place (under her bed—right next to her main Go-Bag—in case the city needed to be evacuated in the middle of the night), and began rooting around for Their “spare” anti-anxiety medication. They tried Their best to not disturb Ophelia’s slumber; They were never good at that.

“Ryn? Wh-what’s going on,” she said, grabbing her phone to look at the time and see if there’d be an emergency broadcast; there hadn’t been, of course. “It’s 3 in the morning.”

“I know, but my nightmares are trying to change my mind. Change me. Revert me.” They said as They finally found the med-kit where They kept an extra month’s worth of medications (rotated regularly to ensure their “effectiveness,” of course), and dug out Their bevy of little white pills to get Their blood pressure and focus and anxiety under control. Similar to Their daily morning dosage, it’d been pre-measured for situations just like this. “I’ll be right back, I’m gonna grab a yogurt from the fridge, do you want me to get you something?”

“Uh, get me a seltzer, she said reaching over to her nightstand. She turned on her reading lamp and rooted around inside the drawer for her own meds. She had no intention of starting her day this early—especially after getting so little sleep—but she wanted to be as present as possible for Them. Years ago, part of how she lost Them was by not keeping up with (or more specifically: consistently refilling) her anxiety meds; which doubled for the very-mild arguably-ADHD (she was still uncertain of the type if so) symptoms she only recently realized she faced.

(Having her diet constantly messed with didn’t help either; something she’d stabilized well before reconnecting with Them, but often wondered how They would’ve helped her had They gotten the chance, knowing They would’ve done everything in Their power to support her journey. Although it was ultimately no one else’s fucking business, and even though The two might not have walked the same paths, she knew They had first hand experience in recovering. One of the few people she knew would understand—forever trying—would want to understand.)

She might not have been as stubborn as Them about re-approaching problems with an (previously unhealthy) overabundance of attempts, but she WAS as stubborn about improving herself; arguably more & inarguably better than Them at times. (The lack of childhood head injuries & conversion therapy sessions probably played a decent role in that regard.)

“Okay, I’ll be right back,” They said as They shut the door and walked—Their distracted & tired mind causing Them to stumble a few times—over to the kitchen. It was a small alcove that didn’t even contain an oven. The portable stovetop and “all-in-one” air fryer made up for it, she’d told Them one of the first mornings They stayed over, as They’d attempted to make a lavish “sunday brunch”; mimosas and all. The retro, borderline-Stepford, fridge (ironic as They’d eagerly jump at the chance to be Her House “Husband”) was adorned with Polaroid Pictures of the two—the only physical evidence that the two had begun to have any semblance of a life together—where each one had little notes written on the back; all of which were wholesome experiences one or the other (or both!) wished they could’ve done years prior. Well, almost all of them were wholesome. One specific photo was of the two on her couch, her in Their lap, laughing at something; whereas they seemed fully clothed, she’d been in fact cockwarming them while they only had their shirts on. On the back of it read: “Being bedridden isn’t so bad when you’re here to help me be couch-ridden afterwards!” With a couple hearts and cursive spellings of Their names and hers following; a habit of hers—her adorable stimming doodles—that They’d only found out after the fact that she’d done with Their names since the very beginning (and likely would’ve meant the world to Them to see at that time) of everything. But truth be told, at The End of All Things just knowing that had helped Their heart heal a little more; whether it’d helped Them move on or cement Their dedication was still up for debate, but from where They were standing, They felt the answer was obvious. Or rather sitting, as They found Themself in one of her kitchen chairs unexpectedly. And back to the fridge. And again to the table, fridge door open, an empty yogurt container on the ground, and Their meds in front of them, being illuminated by the pale moonlight shining through her window.

Was the grogginess getting to Them? Or were They possibly on the cusp of regression? After all, They should’ve never gotten to the point They did last night with Ophelia’s friends. (No matter how invasive their questioning was, her friends had every right to want to know the answer; and in all fairness, They would be disappointed if they HADN’T asked Them!) Maybe They were getting Bad again?

No!

That was the paranoia and intrusive pessimism attempting to get to Them; They refused to worsen! They’d let Themself go during Their cabin-fever-solitary-confinement time of The White Plague, and They hated Themself for years after. And then, when the market crashed and the destruction began, They almost let Themself “finish the job,” but something inside of Them snapped ...snapped into place! Fire tornadoes and electrified hailstorms be damned, They were finally making a life for Themself; They refused to lose!

“The old world is dying, and the new world struggles to be born: now is the time of monsters.” A favorite quote—one They came across in class, when They’d tried taking classes—that’d became more and more relevant with each passing month; NOW more than ever.

They got to Their feet, went to the fridge, grabbed the seltzer bottle for Ophelia, closed the door as quietly as They could, and walked back to the table. Unscrewing the lid, They gave the bottle a moment to let out some carbonation before taking a swig and downing Their pills. Their cocktail would take a while to hit Them, but They felt the moon on Their skin, and were hit with a rushing wave of energy and confidence even the most manic state couldn’t hope to infuse Them with. And in that moment, They knew.

They knew this was The Last Time They’d ever let Their self-doubt even come close to consuming Them. No, if anything was going to be consumed, it’d be the delicious feast waiting back in bed for Them. Did she need to rest? Oh absolutely, but she’d also been through hell and—was arguably not fully—back again. The least They could do was to send her off to sleep—again—with a smile on her face. With a loud, strong, yawn hitting Them out of nowhere though, They reconsidered. Maybe cuddling would be fine? Cuddling was always good enough! (And often preferable to anything else, if They were being honest.)

Thinking everything over, They contemplated how the pair had grown: grown apart, grown separately, and grown together. They’d worried—less and less with each day, but last night had brought it to the forefront of Their mind—over the possibility of this being another cycle of toxic history repeating itself.

A few deep breaths later, They recognized that this too was another ridiculous notion in a sea of possibilities; being a “Cycle Breaker” was something They strived, and oft succeeded, to be! Although difficult to quantify, it was nonetheless a significant source of measurement—among many—for Their growth. Also difficult to quantify were the ways in which she’d long since grown from the fledgling princess into a Confidently Commanding yet Compassionate Queen; They may not have grown in the same ways, but the magnitudes mirrored each other.

But that came as no surprise, Mirroring was a skill They excelled at; it was the cracks in Their mirror that gave Them pause. Hurt people will hurt people—as They knew All Too Well, at least 10 times (years?) over—but healed people can (help to; if allowed) heal people. Once adrift in that sea of possibilities, Their makeshift raft of coping mechanisms grew with Them; now crafted into a sleek vessel that excelled at slicing through these rough waters of doubt. Determination coursed through Them; Their future now fortified by fears that had faltered. Mental pictures rarely came clearly, but with a crisper vision than ever before, They centered Themself in more ways than one.

They would never say They’d put her second. In fact, They were now more than ever determined to earn Their Queen say They were her ‘King of My Heart.’ But that would be a byproduct of Their accomplishments; Their plans had been set in motion, beginning this very second.

She was getting worried. Normally—and with anyone else—she’d be understandably upset at the half-hour that had passed since she’d been woken early; her phone now dimly glowed displaying 3:33. She still was upset, but she didn’t get angry with Them anymore; just concerned. No, it wasn’t her job, and she didn’t allow it to ever cloud her compartmentalization, but she’d become concerned all the same. Was it the domme in her or the sub? She walked that fine line of a switch, just as They did, and so she needed—although Azuryn argued she didn’t—Their counterweight of confidence. Even if it was counterfeit, Their cockiness helped paved the way for the path SHE ultimately directed. She’d worried She was using Them—manipulating Them even—yet They never faltered in Their reassurance that She was not! (Nonconsensually at least.) They may have been the genuinely outgoing one—forward to a fault—but She’d been handed back the leash that reeled Them back to reality; just by holding it—holding THEM—in Her hands. She’d grown exponentially in terms of personal relations, and yet if She ever needed to take a step back, They were more than happy to continue in Her place; even if They were Her Dominant, She held all the cards while standing in the shadows. An United Front.

She’d often found herself coddling the partners inbetween Them—and to an extent Their past self too—but She wouldn’t call it coddling now. Utmost patience and gentleness came to mind, but not coddling. Those were some of the ways They used to—and were even more successful nowadays—treat her when They were healthy. She felt bad for abandoning Them years ago when They got sick—Their illness practically terminal in how They treated others—but there was something about Their infectious personality that risked the spread of it to her. And yet They wouldn’t let her apologize; “The best apology you can give me is to TRULY learn from your mistakes, continue to grow, and live your life to the fullest!” That was the sentiment They expressed; saying that although They wished They could’ve had her help to heal, you can’t save a drowning victim until They’ve fallen unconscious. And in that same vein, They had used some of the last of Their exhausted energy to push her away—refusing to take her back despite her begging and pleading and “attempts” at manipulating Their emotions—in hopes it’d give her a chance to heal herself from Their poison; disgusted with Themself, They knew she deserved better, and so They did the one thing They knew They had to do: cut each other off so that she could be better. If They—if SHE—truly deserved better, then they both needed to be better; after all, as They’d constantly told her years ago: “If I deserve better, then BE BETTER, because you’re what I want; what I’ll always want.” And so she had; she wanted to help—now was the time—and so far she was doing magnificently!

Looking back on it, they both recognized “all” the ways They could’ve gotten help; but that’s the worst part of these sicknesses: it takes away your voice, and eats you from the inside out, until you’re nothing but a husk of yourself looking out from a jail cell with a stained glass window. You get used to the multicoloured lens of distortion, convinced it’s your new reality; instead of the telescopic viewpoint They’d built Themself up to have, at Their lowest, They were looking through a kaleidoscope of cringe. They’d become caustic even to Themself; knowing that They were on borrowed time, They did Their best to heal.

And although Their body was now riddled with scars, They were on the up. She didn’t want to think what could’ve happened to Them had They not held onto that spark of perseverance—a saturation of stubbornness at times—that’d drawn her to Them in the first place. Unfortunately, it could’ve ended with Them being dead to her, hateful bile at the mention of Their name; that was pretty mild in comparison. (Even worse was the possibility she could’ve grown apathetic, hoping to never interact with Them for the rest of her life; a statement which could’ve cut Them down worse than ever before if it’d been wielded as an attack against Them.) But instead, They were in remission and had less and less relapses; not the ideal situation, but something she could work with.

They’d only just begun to open up about Their own recoveries—the entanglement of physical & mental illnesses the worst part—and the risk of “regression”; but They were candid on the importance that They communicate all of this to her, even when Their talking became nonverbal and confusing. It could be frustrating, but progress is not linear, and so she was appreciative of what They WERE able to convey to her. Cryptic at best, it felt like They KNEW what They wanted to say, but the words always ran the risk of coming out different from Their intent. Maybe that was why They kept trying; a prayer to be understood in the way They wanted to know her again.

They just wanted time with her; no (at least for the time) sex, no anger, no miscommunications: just cuddling and honesty for Their remorse. And getting to listen to her share her new aspirations and learn about ALL the stories she’d made over the years; regardless of how she felt about these tales, They refused to tuck Their tail between Their legs like a coward incapable of taking criticism.

She spent almost all of this time staring at the ceiling, wondering what she was going to do; what she had to do. She knew They were strong; it often (falsely) felt that despite her much more successful achievements, They were stronger than her—after all, there IS strength is strategic vulnerability—but what could she do to help hold her anchor in its place? Ever since dinner “last night,” she’d become fearful of the possibility that They hadn’t healed nearly as much as she hoped They had. But how do you quantify that? Especially given everything going on in the outside world, she could barely begin to fathom the internal turmoil They faced; They had always been facing.

That was it! She shot up out of bed similar to how They had, but with the complete opposite feeling. Wedding nights could wait—or maybe could be introduced later—she knew what she needed to do to help Them!

They opened her bedroom door slowly, unsure of if she’d fallen back asleep; if so, They’d put her bottle on the nightstand for the morning. (Even if it wasn’t as cold by then, it was the thought that counted …right?) But as soon as They got her full bedroom in sight, They saw her sitting up—shirtless—with one of her favorite purple pendants now nestled between her gorgeous tear drop tits.

“H-hey Lia, sorry it took me so long, but here’s that seltzer for you.” They said, walking forward, with Their arm extended holding the bottle out to her.

“Why thank you, Ryn,” She practically sang with that sweet sound Her voice made in those rare moments when She’d fully tranced Them. Taking the bottle, She unscrewed the lid, took a sip, and finally downed Her own meds. She let out a light burp from the carbonation, with elicited a light giggle in that rich, slightly-deeper melodic voice of Hers. Placing the bottle on the nightstand, She pulled the covers off Her lap, patted it, and said “Why don’t you come rest you head here, love; I want to talk to you about a few things.”

“Really? I was actually gonna say, I have a few things I thought about while in the kitchen I wanted to talk to you about.” They said, getting into bed and doing as She requested of Them; Their feet almost hanging off the end of the bed.

“Oh? And what all would that entail?” She said, beginning to play with Their hair.

“I’m tired of feeling stuck.”

“Stuck?”

“Yes. Stuck. I know the world around us is shit, but that doesn’t mean I have to slow myself to molasses to make those around us happy. I want to be myself for a change.”

“Yourself? I thought you said you were trying to be your most authentic self.” She continued talking in that honey-dipped voice, lulling Them just a little bit without fully meaning to; a nice change from the stress They’d felt in the past hour.

“Key word: Trying. I’m constantly trying, and yet a part of me constantly feels like a failure. Why do you think I was so terrified of what your friends would think of me? Okay, granted, there are a few reasons why, but other than the obvious ones, do you have any idea?”

“Because you worry you don’t stack up to them?”

“That’s… yeah, how did you know know?” They looked straight up at her, mouth agape in confused wonder.

“Please, dear, you may have grown in so many ways over the years, but I still see that scared kid inside you that wants to be noticed.” She said in a way that even the harshest of comments couldn’t come off as anything but a gentle—simply observant—remark.

“O-Oh. I guess I don’t hide it as well as I should.”

“You shouldn’t hide it.”

“What?” They said with an unexpected yawn.

“You heard me: you shouldn’t hide it. I think it was the hurt kid in me that saw the hurt kid in you; two kids on the playground, scratched and bruised up, who knew what it was like & became friends because of it.”

“That’s… yeah, that’s a way to put it.” They said with a laugh. “Funny you should mention hurt kids.”

“Funny? Why’s that?”

“In the kitchen, I was thinking about that kinda stuff… maybe we’re on similar wavelengths again.”

“We always are; on our little short range radio.”

“True, true. But yeah, I was in the kitchen, thinking about us.”

“Us?”

“Yeah, and my future. Our future.”

“My Future?”

“Yes. I want to make sure I’—”

“Oh but Ryn, we’ve been over this, of course you will be, silly!” She said ruffling Their hair.

“I want to BE Your Future.” They said, giving her pause.

“What do you mean?”

“I want to know this is real. That this isn’t some elaborate joke or short term stress relief to get you through these last semesters.”

“Funny you should mention ‘real.’ But yes, this is real. I may not fully know what ‘this’ is, but I know I want it.”

“So do I, and that’s what scares me most.”

“Scares you?”

“My nightmare. It was so vivid and lifelike …I guess the most hurtful ones are. It started roughly around the time you were graduating, but I remember specifically getting the graduation invitation; it didn’t have anything special written on it, just the information. I went, and watched you deliver your speech, taking all the pictures, the whole nine yards.”

“Uh huh.”

“And then, when I went down to see you. You were gone.”

“What?”

“Yeah, it was like you rushed out of there, not wanting to be seen. And so I called you. It went straight to voicemail.”

“But I would hav—”

“I know. But it did. And so I left a voicemail, wondering where you went, asking if you wanted to meet up to celebrate. I even sent you a text. I didn’t hear from you. And so later that night, around our usual nightly phone call time, I called you again.”

“And then what happened?”

“It said your number was no longer in service.”

“W-what” She said, pausing to take the absurdity of it all in. It was so unlike her, how could Their brain trick Them into thinking she’d ever act anything like that?

“Yeah, so I was confused. I called Zef; no dice. Tried Alii, mailbox full. I even called Daneskaa.”

“Call her nessi.”

“Okay,” They said with a laugh, “I called nessi; she actually answered.”

“And?”

“She acted like she’d never met me before.”

“What!?”

“Yeah, I asked if she knew anything about what you were doing, and if you were alright and all that… and then she responded.”

“How did she respond?”

“I don’t know if this is verbatim, but it was something like ‘Madam Grimmstone’s whereabouts and activities are classified information to those outside of her private circle,’ or something like that.”

“I… I don’t understand.”

“I didn’t either. I was so confused. I went to your socials, but I couldn’t access anything.”

“Did I delete my stuff?”

“No, it was there; a lot of it privated, but more specifically: You’d blocked me on EVERYTHING.”

“Everything!?” She asked, finding that hard to believe.

“Yeah, it was weird. I was really confused. So I called up my friends, and told them what was going on. They found it hard to believe but they didn’t doubt me. I guess a couple of them also tried calling you after this.”

“What happened?”

“Everyone got the same response.”

“But if your friends talked to my friends talked to—“

“They ended up being blocked by everyone.”

“What?”

“Yeah, and at this point, we had all hung out multiple times, with like a group of the ten of us or so, so we all knew each other …I think?”

“Dreams are weird; I remember the time I thought you’d gotten me pregnant and freaked out over it for a week. Er, sorry, not trying to derail, please continue.”

“No, it’s okay.” They said with a laugh. “I’d forgotten about that. It was kinda cute how freaked out you were.”

“Yeah, looking back it is, but definitely not in the moment.”

“Definitely not! But yeah, my friends were all blocked on all the socials, only nessi was reachable…”

“And did she tell them all the same thing?”

“Yup, it was as if it was a script, or more specifically an automated response, and she wasn’t even actually answering.”

“That’s… freaky. Ryn, I want you to know I would never do anything, ANYTHING like that, okay?”

“I know,” They said, reaching up to cup her face in Their palm. “But it was so… hyper realistic.”

“Like some kind of derealization?

“Yeah! It felt so real but also so… plastic? Or rather, it was just so fake it felt real? I don’t know.”

“That’s okay; do you wanna go on?

“Yeah. Yeah, I do… I can. I will. So, anyways, this goes on for a few weeks, and it’s stressing me out. My therapist tries their best to help me, but it’s… it’s just not helping. For some reason, I pull myself back from my friends despite their continuous attempts to get me to go out. I was… a husk of myself. Again.”

“Oh god, Ryn, I’m sorry.”

“I appreciate it. But so that goes on, the weeks finally turn to a month, and I think I’m doing better, but then I realize time is passing me by in a way I can’t explain. It was like in that movie Click.”

“The Adam Sandler one with the remote?”

“The, very same one, my dear.” They said in a fairly decent Christopher Walken impression, to which she laughed. “But yeah, the closest thing I can compare it to—at least as tired as I am now—is that. Anyways, my life starts passing me by, first a couple days at a time, then a few weeks, and next thing I know, it’s winter!”

“What!?”

“Yeah, it was horrible. Cold. Frigid. It was like we’d finally gotten a nuclear winter, and I missed the weather report.”

“Uh huh.”

“Eventually, one day, I’m sitting alone at home, eating a bowl of peaches & cream ice cream…”

“Oh that sounds soooo good right now.”

“Right!? But anyways, that’s not important. I turn on the tv, flip channels. And There you are.”

“There I am?”

“Yeah! You’d somehow already gotten yourself to Partner, and not only that, your own firm!? Anyways, it was a commercial for “Grimmstones In The Rough,” I think, and… well, I know tv is fake, but you looked happy. Happier. Without me.”

“Oh, Ryn. I’m… I’m sorry. That is a good name though. But I am genuinely sorry. I don’t now what to say; I hope you know I’d never do any of that.”

“I do. I find it hard to believe you’d come up with such a great name without my help.”

“You’re not wrong, you do have some …clever & creative ideas.”

“Yeeeeaaaaah.” They let out a deep sigh. “But I don’t know, I just fell back in the couch, the ice cream spilling on me was the worst part. Not because of the mess or stain, but because it was really tasty, and I was hungry.” They both began to laugh at Their obvious attempt to lighten the mood.

“Well I’m glad you had your priorities straight.” Ophelia said while wiping a tear away.

“That’s the thing.” They paused, looked away, then back up into her eyes. “I think my dream—nightmare—was telling me I needed to refocus on myself. On finally finishing being myself.”

“What… what does that mean?”

“I think. I think I wanna go back to school?”

“Oh! That’d be great Ryn! Do you know what you wanna study.”

“I’m not sure yet. I think I wanna wait till after you’ve finished getting your degree though.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I still wanna help you with everything; plus… that’ll give me some time to get my other stuff in order.”

“Other stuff?”

“Yeah… Ophelia, I need to ask you something serious.”

“Oh. Uh, yeah, go for it.” She started to blush, not sure what They were going to say.

“Do you still want to have kids; your own kids?” That REALLY made her blush deepen.

“I, uh, I think so, I’m not rea—“

“With ME?”

“Oh.”

“What?”

“I… didn’t think you were capable of having them anymore?”

“I might not be. But I want to try and get everything in order before I get rid of my… past baggage, if you will.” They said with a laugh.

“Wait, are you telling me you wanna—“

“Get my face chopped open and the bone filed down?”

“Uh, not what I was going for, but sure?”

“It’s one of the things; everyone forgets how long of a list it can be. How expensive it is to be our true selves. But to answer your question—the one I know you were really asking about—yes.”

“Ryn, I don’t wanna doubt you, but are you sure?”

“As sure as I was—and still am—that I wanted you as my future, Lia.”

“You’re sweet.” She said cupping Their face with both hands. “But how does this all play into your nightmare?”

“I think I lost you because I became too stagnant.”

“Stagnant? That’s not like you at all!”

“Exactly! I wasn’t myself. And we’ve been down that road before.” They paused as They shuddered at the thought of Their past-problematic-self. “Which is why you had to. Well. Do all the stuff. Back then and in my nightmare.” They let out a big sigh. “I know I’m probably reading too much into it all, but when the universe gives you a sign, well—“

“You listen?”

“Yeah! I’m just wondering.”

“What’re you wondering?”

“What things would’ve been like had we gotten to go to University together. As our actual selves.”

“Funny you should mention that,” She said pulling out her pendant. “I was thinking it’d been forever since you let me trance you.” She then tucked it back between her tits.

“Uh huh?”

“Why don’t we make that a ‘reality,’ okay?”

“Go on.”

“I think its about time I do my Fair Share of the trancing, okay?”

“Okay. But like, what’re we talking about? A simulated night out on the town or something?”

“No, I’m talking about creating another world for you. NOT to escape to per se, but to help hone yourself, like I know you want to; like I KNOW you can!”

“I’m not following.”

“So I put you under.”

“Right?”

“And you get a chance to experience things with me—or rather the me in the trance—that we would’ve gotten the chance to do. Plus, since I’m the one leading you through trance, it’ll be like we actually ARE getting to do it all together. You could even trance me later and have me experience it too. It’s the only ‘memories’ I think I’d ever let you fabricate for me.” She said with a slight laugh.

“And that’s it?”

“Well, you wanna go back to school, right?”

“Yeah, but I don’t see ho—“

“Sshhhh,” she said, putting her finger over Their mouth. “While you’re under, I can help you hone & refine your studying skills; even break some of those bad habits of yours while I’m at it!”

“Bad habits?”

“You’ve still got a few; don’t worry, we’ll work through them.” She said with a wink.

“I’m still really, REALLY confused.”

“Do you trust me?”

“With my life”

“Oh.” She didn’t expect that level of response.

“Hah! God you look adorable,” They said while laughing, reaching up and rubbing her cheek. “Seriously though, of course I do. I trust you more with my life than I do myself. Should I not?”

“No, you definitely should,” she said with a titter. “I was just surprised is all.”

“Okay, so uh, what am I gonna be studying for in this pocket-world of ours?”

“Hmmmm, well, should probably start with the basics.”

“Fiiiiiiiine, but only because it’s with you.” They said with a smile.

“Can it be only with me?” She said, leaning down to kiss Them.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t want to worry about you straying from me, even in the world I create for you; for us.” She said, only pulling slightly back so as to hover over Their face.

“You don’t have to worry about that here in the ‘real’ world, but you definitely don’t have to worry about that in a world you’ve made for us.” They said with a smile. “Ophelia Kyda Grimmstone, I haven’t wanted anyone else—EVER—since the first time I realized how compatible we were. We are. We always will be; no matter where we are in life. Okay?”

“Okay.” She paused with an incredibly larger-than-life smile on her face. “That said, if your mind creates any cuties—or brings some from out here into there—I’ll let you ensnare them for me to play with. For us to play with, I mean. In that big-ol-brain of yours.” She said with a light knocking on Their forehead. “Who knows, maybe it’ll spark some ideas for us to do out here once you’re done spending time in your La La Land.”

“From the sound of it, I might as well get a partner in that world just so I can cuck them with you… Fuck that’s hot.” They took a second to bite Their lip. “You’re so bad!” They couldn’t stop Themself from smiling, even if They wanted to.

“Mmmmm, not what I was going for, but that DOES sound devilicious; I guess I already am, if you think of sheli in that way.” She smiled at the arousing idea. “Admit it: You love it!”

“Oh she already does. And I do too. I do love it. And you.” They said with a sparkle in Their eye.

“And I love you too, ya cheeseball.” She said as she leaned down again, kissing Them as if it was the first time, wondering what their first kiss in this Brave New World would be like.

“Oh, and Lia?”

“Yes Ryn?”

“How about we change my name too?”

“To?”

“Wrn. Just for the continuity, ya know?”

“Okay, love.” She said with a light laugh. “Ass you wish.”

“It really does sound cuter when you say it.”

“Told you so.” She said giving one more kiss, then pulling up and pulling the pendant fully out. Swinging it in her hands, she finished her statement. “We should definitely get some sleep.”

“Agreed.” They said with a yawn and a stretch. “So when’s orientation?”

“Tomorrow afternoon. You’ll get to meet your new roommate too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yup, a plucky curvaceous gal who’s there to study dance—but is also dual majoring in finance—and eventually wants to open her own studio one day, where all the kids can come for free and are free to be themselves. Without the fear of being judged; no matter body type, race, class level, or anything else!”

“Damn, she sounds amazing! What’s her name?”

“Oh, she definitely is. And, hmmmm… how about Aali?”

“You’re cute.” They said with a yawn.

“Very true,” she said ‘catching’ their yawn and having her own.

“Heh.” Azuryn said, closing Their eyes. “And they were roommates.”

“Oh my god, they were roommates.” She said giggling, leaning down once more—this time to kiss Them on the forehead—and then turned her reading lamp off to send both of them off to gentler waters and sweeter dreams.