The sound of someone loudly clearing their throat snaps you back to reality. You blink your eyes. You hadn’t realized that you’d zoned out, though honestly you can’t remember what you were doing before you did. The only thing that you can think of right now is the strange but already-fading dream that you had. The once-vivid and life-like images of that daydream leave nothing but dregs, the faintest flash of a neon pink sign, the feeling of cold rain on your skin, the sound of a bell jingling above a door as you push it open.

You feel fuzzy, and while it’s pleasant, it’s not necessarily the right frame of mind that you want while you’re at the office. But you can’t shake it. No matter how hard you try, it’s like there’s something dampening your thoughts, making it extremely difficult to process what’s going on around you. It isn’t until your companion calls your name out a third time that you realize they’re talking to you. And when you do finally turn your head toward them, you realize with a jolt that it’s your boyfriend.

“Hey, were you listening to me?” he asks. “I told you, we need to get this project finished or the boss is going to have our asses.” The words go in through one ear, but it’s like they refuse to stick to your head. The fog in your skull thickens, making it feel like you’re trying to think through molasses. You just stare at him, uncomprehending, as his words and their meaning slip right off your brain. “Hello?” he says, looking exasperated.

You mumble something incoherent as you turn to look around you. It’s hard to think but at least you recognize the place. It’s one of the conference rooms at the office. Outside, it looks like the sun’s just about to set. It doesn’t look like there’s anyone else there, either. “Look, I get it, I tired you out last night, but I need you to pay attention to me right now,” says your boyfriend, this time with an edge of irritation in his voice. “Hey! Look at me! I’m talking to you!” he snaps, as you fail to comprehend his command.

The sheer authority in his voice makes you snap to attention. You look at him and blink, as though you’re seeing him in a new light. He shakes his head. “God, I knew they should have never let them hire you as my assistant. Look, you’re lucky you’re cute, but you need to stop spacing out like this. I know you’re not the sharpest tool in the shed, but I need your help right now.”

You stare at him. His assistant? You were the one with the cushy office job. You were the one making the money. Or were you? You’re not sure anymore. It’s hard to think. It’s so much easier to just believe what he says. So you do so. And you suddenly feel shame. “I…” you start to say, freezing as you realize how low and how dumb your voice sounds. Your eyes widen. A part of you screams in terror. But more than that, your cock twitches in your pants.

Why are you turned on by being so dumb? You don’t know. You don’t understand it. You try to figure it out, but it’s like your smarts keep dancing just out of your grasp, slowly fading away, melting like wax from a candle. Drip drip dripping out of you through the pre-cum now staining the side of your leg. “Oh god,” your boyfriend says, as he gets up and starts to undo the  buckle of his belt. “Right, well, obviously I need to fuck your head straight before you can help me so let’s get this over with,” he says, with a smirk.

You giggle. For some reason that’s apparently exactly what you wanted to hear. You chew on your lower lip and bend over the desk, shimmying your pants down your legs. Your mind continues to fog up, the haze getting thicker and thicker until it’s impossible to think anything other than what your boyfriend tells you.

You wiggle your ass as he puts a hand on it and lines his cock up with your hole. “Not that I’m complaining,” he says. “I could use a break, to be honest. But after this, we’re going to finish this project, understood?” You nod, even though you both know you’re not going to be much help here. As your old, smart self melts away, replaced by this new, dumb, dependent slut that you’ve become, you can’t help but giggle to yourself at how airheaded you got.

But it’s not like you’re going to be able to regret what happens from now on. You don’t have the brainpower for that. Besides, obviously your boyfriend’s taking charge now, just like you always wanted. It occurs to you that maybe you should just quit since you’re no good for him here at the office, anyway, and you can just be his good little slut, waiting for him at home, ready to help him blow off the day’s steam.

You focus on that image, breathing a dreamy sigh, as he pushes his cock inside you, sealing your fate.