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. She blushed – she wasn’t the type of girl to have nocturnal erotic fantasies. Trying to remember the dream gave her a headache so she decided to ignore it. As she got dressed for school, she felt a soft rush flow through her as she rolled her white stockings up her toned, caramel coloured legs. Summer had past, but her tan gave her skin a radiant glow. As she stroked her tender inner thigh, she sighed in pleasure, before cupping her mouth with her hand. What the hell? Where did that come from? She’d never felt so sensitive, so sexy, so…she stopped, aware that she was already running late for school. She put on her favourite white blouse and began to button up, her ample bust tightening. She stopped to look at herself in the mirror and ran her hands over her bust.

Mmm, my breasts look…really nice today… She thumbed the top button absent-mindedly, and anyone looking would have noticed the lids of her eyes becoming hooded. They are…impressive, and,mmmm…the boys will struggle not to stare… A warm, silky feeling enveloped her as she imagined Darius ogling her at school, and she involuntarily squeezed her thighs together. Darius? What the fuck? Where did that come from? Isabelle felt dizzy, and she leaned on her wall for support. What’s wrong with me today?

She needed to leave. She grabbed her bag, shaken from something she couldn’t quite remember and strode out of the house, trying to put whatever it was behind her. She just remembered Darius and feeling…mmm…mushy…or something. Waving goodbye to her mother and younger sister, an idea popped into her head to see Darius. She couldn’t quite grasp what she needed to see him for, but she was sure she would remember at school.

‘Hi Darius!’ Darius was suddenly taken out of his textbook by a sweet voice behind him. He was in the common room with only a few minutes til the start of school. He turned round and saw Isabelle, twirling a lock of her hair, beaming at him. In his shock that one of the most stunning girls – who had barely even looked at him before – was striking up conversation, he completely forgot about his command. He then noticed her blouse, slightly open, giving enough room for his eyes to soak up the sight of her ample cleavage.

‘Oh, hi.’ He still hadn’t taken his eyes off her magnificent bust. She looked at him quizzically. She felt she ought to be annoyed at him. Furious even. But she just felt…milky. Something was…wrong. What was I going to say? she thought to herself. What’s up with me? Why do I feel so strange? She gulped nervously.

He flicked his eyes up to meet her gaze. ‘So, what is it?’

Was he staring at my breasts this whole time? ‘Darius.’ she said, incredulous. ‘Were you just…looking…’

‘Your tits?’ He smirked. ‘Yes. Why?’

‘Well – you um…you really ought to…’ his gaze wandered back down to her chest, trying to immortalize her gorgeous figure in his memory. Her chest heaved. All this talk is getting me all confused. Oh, dammit! Why can’t I just get the words out? ‘Please, stop…oh…stop looking at my…um, tits.’ Tits? She was shocked at her own vocabulary; Never once have I called my wonderful boobs…no, breasts, tits. Oh God, it’s so warm in here… His eyes seemed to be burning holes in the fabric of her clothes, and she felt her nipples strain against her blouse.

‘…Darius…stop. This isn’t right…’ But she couldn’t help it. Wherever his gaze wandered, her skin would become hot and bothered, and she suddenly felt an urge to completely unbutton her shirt, let some cool air dissipate the stuffiness of her chest…completely bare her wonderful mounds. Mmm… oh yeah…I feel so…warm and fuzzy, If I could just…He looked up at her.

‘Isabelle, seriously; what was it you wanted?’ He noticed her eyes glaze over as he stared at her, and he grinned wolfishly, knowing that he had total control over his pet.

‘Um, well, I’ve been trying to tell you…I just thought that…uh’. She was so flustered. Her face was read and she couldn’t work out what she wanted to say. All she could think about were the two wonderful breasts tight against her blouse, the warmth seeping over her, the touch of the her tender flesh against the fabric.

Why am I so…horny? School is a place for learning, not to entertain foolish boys. I can barely construct a sentence! This isn’t like me. I’m…capable, confident, and not some dumb bimbo. What were we talking about? ‘I…can’t actually remember.’ If it was possible for her to blush any more, she did so in her embarrassment. ‘Sorry, I just…I don’t feel so well, I think I might…need to take some para…paracetamol or something. I’m not usually like this.’ It was true. She’d never felt so objectified, so docile being ogled like this. She didn’t know whether to slap him or…

‘Oh no worries. It’s okay.’ Darius replied, still smiling. ‘Oh and by the way, nice look. You should definitely keep the stockings.’ With this comment she felt a soft tingle wash over her skin, and her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she stumbled back a few paces. She felt her pussy moisten underneath her panties. She collected herself, sneaking one last sultry look at Darius and then blushed, and hurried off. Darius chuckled to himself; his command had worked like a charm. She would soon become his stupid, submissive slut.

* * *

Isabelle was out of breath by the time she reached the girls’ lavatory. She had walked as fast as she could, remaining composed and dignified. But with each step her thighs rubbed against one another in her tight tartan skirt, sending waves of pleasure rippling inside her, delicate tingling sensations down her thighs, calves, and up to her breasts. She was confused and terrified despite her red hot arousal, and she kept her head bowed and bit her lip, unwilling to betray any inner pleasure she felt to onlookers. She burst open the doors, her chest heaving, and thank God no one was there. She hunched over the sink and looked at herself in the mirror. She saw tousled brown hair framing her gorgeous face, her eyes glazed and unfocused and her full lips slightly parted. She whimpered as she was suddenly drank up her utterly sexed-up appearance. She looked sooo fucking hot like this. How had she not realised before? Her pussy moistened upon realising how much of an inviting little girl she must have looked to Darius, teasing him with her hot little body. She felt an idiot for looking so stupid in front of him, but, mmm…she just felt soooo good when he looked at her.

How could anyone resist her like this? It was silly to be upset with him. How long had she strutted around school, turning heads, yet completely ignoring her classmates advances? She sure had to make up lost fun… Without realising it, her hands had been roaming the front of her chest, her fingers creating delicate trails of pleasure underneath her shirt.

Her slim waist threatened to buckle under the mind-numbing pleasure she felt in her breasts, but a small part of her still had some control. A small part of her realised that this was not her, she wasn’t this sort of girl, this wasn’t normal. She was a virgin for god’s sake, not some sexed-up whore! But her arousal threatened to totally overwhelm her, utterly subjugate the still rational part of her mind. She knew that if that small part of her were to resist, it would be destroyed, and then nothing would stop her from falling on the floor, ripping off her clothes, pawing at her breasts and her sweet hot pussy, until she scream scream screamed…better to just go along with it.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a small squeal. Was that me? She had begun circling her nipples, and now they created firm indents in her blouse. She was so warm! She could feel her legs weakening under this unnatural pressure, and so she retreated, falling back onto the wall. Her stocking clad legs spread as she leaned back on the wall, her skirt inching higher, clinging to her creamy thighs, teasing a reveal of her moist panties. Isabelle admired herself in the mirror, from her vacant eyes to her wonderful tits, flesh taut against her blouse, to her, mmm, her skirt, and her long, smooth legs which seemed to go on forever. Isabelle whimpered, utterly aroused by seeing her sexy, wanton body succumb to her throes of pleasure. As she moulded and pressed her hands against the pliant flesh of her breasts, they began to come out of her blouse, more and more spilling into view. Her hands crept down her sides, accentuating her gorgeous but petite figure, her slim waist and thighs. She saw herself play with the hem of her skirt, rubbing her legs, her delicate fingers rubbing circles higher, revealing more delicious curves. Cool air tingled her velvety pussy and ass cheeks, and it felt wonderful. A warm thrill rushed through her, countering the exposure, and she gasped as she saw her pussy in the mirror. Her panties were shiny and wet, and her thin pubic hair was matted against her moist pussy lips. A drop of fluid dribbled out of her cunt and dripped on the floor.

Oh my God, she thought. I’m utterly exposed. What if someone were to come in and see me like this? Her pussy opened in her arousal, the petals of her labia revealing her sweet inner nectar. I would be expelled, ridiculed, punished, punished for being naughty…she gazed at her feminine form, lounging against the pale wall. She was a Goddess. No one could resist her. She was the ultimate erotic fantasy. She had tried to think her way out of her behaviour, but found herself at a dead end. Ooh… she told herself. Don’t worry about anything but surrendering to the pleasure…her fingers found their way into her dripping pussy, and she stroked around her folds, teasing her tight little slit, tenderly stroking her clitoris, her bud. Her other hand stroked through her hair, rubbed her thighs, and she moaned in passion. Her hair fanned out behind her face, and she spread her thighs wider, watching her feminine fingers fondle inside her panties. She rubbed and cooed in pleasure, her clothes becoming ruffled with every shudder.

Her breathing quickened, and she slipped a finger inside her succulent hole, warmth spreading from her pubic region, her mind going numb with the pleasure. Her nipples were beacons of arousal, peaks underneath her clothes, but as her blouse sank to her stomach, her nipples slowly came into view, tentatively creeping over the edge of her blouse. It slipped down, and her full breasts bounced free, revealing her gorgeous flesh, thrust from her chest, two wonderful, round, smooth orbs which radiated pleasure. Her blouse was bunched against her waist, and she rabidly palmed her breasts, her mind enraptured by the wonderful state she saw herself in. Her pace quickened, her fingers plunging into her soft pussy, as her breasts screamed in pleasure. She cried out a high pitched whimper of joy.

‘Mmmm, yes yes yes, oh, mmm, oh…God’, she whispered. What if, mmm, what if I get caught, ooh, yes, oh my God…but it’s…it feels so good! Deep within her erotic fantasy, something took form. She remembered her conversation with Darius, how hot it made her feel, how delicious and sexy, mmm, oh Darius, yes! Her legs spread wider as she thought of him, her hips thrust into her fingers, her mind utterly submerged in submissive pleasure. If she thought for a second about why a boy she had barely ever spoken to was suddenly the emblem of her erotic fantasy, it was instantly hampered by the lust consuming her body. Oh, if only Darius could see me, if Darius could see how I looked, how I felt, oooh, so sexy, so docile, a doll. Mmm, I’m so, so exposed, look at me, a wanton hussy, ooh!

The thrill of being caught heightened her arousal, Oh Darius! She wanted to be played with, stroked, admired, desired, she was such a slut! Isabelle’s breath hitched; the thrill of her public nudity accelerating her passion, and pushed her over the edge. She came violently, and her pussy walls clenched on her fingers, her breasts, pussy, mind sparked with desire, waves of pleasure washed over her. Her blushing face was the pinnacle of beauty as she moaned in delight, looking upwards, her thighs quaking, her nipples electric and the walls of her sopping pussy, red hot, flared and pulsed against her fingers.

‘Mmmm’ she sighed, floating in the afterglow of her orgasm. She was out of breath, utterly immersed in a dreamy warmth as her fingers now delicately stroked her labia. Tingles of pleasure lingered in her legs, her chest, and she gazed at herself sensually in the mirror. She was overcome with her beauty, her legs flexed and fully open, revealing her pretty red pussy and her lean calves and thighs. Her body was covered in a warm, sweaty sheen which gave her skin an erotic glow. Darius…

She tucked her breasts back into her blouse, straightened out her skirt, and re-adjusted her hair. She got goosebumps as the cool air seeped onto her skin, hardening her sensitive nipples. What the hell got into me? Did I actually do that? The musky smell of passion that still lingered confirmed that, indeed, she did. I know everyone has hormones but…I’ve never quite felt something like that. However she found she couldn’t comfort herself. As she thought of Darius another warm fuzzy feeling came over her. She still needed release. Oh my…mmm…Shit! This isn’t love. It can’t be. Love is pure and sweet, not lusty and…degenerate! I wasn’t like this before – oh, what’s happened to me? There’s no way I’ve fallen in love with some…some guy I’ve barely ever spoken to…As she began to leave, She buttoned up her blouse – and suddenly realised just how good her thighs looked with her skirt slightly higher up her smooth legs. Maybe she would wear something shorter tomorrow…

Putting those thoughts aside, Isabelle was convinced something had happened, she had changed somehow. It was something to do with Darius. She didn’t know what, but there was no way she could continue like this. She had exams to prepare for, and besides, she was sure she could land a much hotter guy at university. She didn’t want to get tied down with less than a year until she’d have to leave. She would tell that creep to stop talking to her.

She had to confront Darius.

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