Check in on Drake.

Natasha couldn't help but laugh when Drake stuck it in her.

She was lying naked on the bed, Drake on top of her. He had been kissing her face and chest, which felt nice. She asked him if that was all there was to sex.

"Not quite," he said with a grin, and suddenly he was inside her and she was giggling.

"Something funny?" he asked defensively, slowly pulling his penis out again. She chuckled at that sensation too.

"I don't know, it's just silly. I don't think I have a lot of different emotions, not like normal people. This is, hehe, this is the closest thing I've got to horniness. Oh, hahah, there it is again!" Drake had thrust into her once more, eliciting more giggles.

"Jesus, you're a weird one," he said. "Hang on."

A moment later she felt something else change. She tried to puzzle out what was different, but the amazing feeling of Drake pushing between her legs made it hard to concentrate. She decided to simply ask him.

Between heavy breaths, Drake answered. "I took your proprioception. That means you have no sense of where your body is. Close your - oof - close your eyes and you'll see."

He was right. She closed her eyes and suddenly felt somehow disembodied, like she couldn't tell where she was. If it wasn't for the feeling of the sheets on her back and the man on top of her, she wouldn't know if she was sitting or standing.

"Oh, shit," she said without opening her eyes. "That felt - fuck, that felt amazing. Do another one!"

Suddenly Natasha's vision faded and she was in the dark. Before she could speak, she realized she could no longer feel the man on top of her. It was like she spinning out in space with no sense of her physicality at all. It felt somehow both claustrophobic and like she was in an endless void. All she knew was the rhythmic pulses of pleasure that cascaded through her brain.

"What- what did you do? Did you make me blind?"

"Blind and unable to feel tactile stimuli, my dear. Right now the only thing anchoring you to your body is the arousal I'm causing you." There was a moment of silence and suddenly she felt an even stronger rush of pleasure. She moaned and was surprised by a loud clap.

"Ow! Fuck, you hit me. I forget that without proprioception people start flailing. Here, I'm gonna take your ability to do that."

She felt another small shift but it didn't really register. "What are you- oh!" Her words were interrupted by yet another powerful blast of pleasure.

Without vision, touch, or the ability to orient her body, her remaining sense came into a crisp focus. She heard the low sonic gravel of his grunts, the reedy yearning of her moans. She had no sense of how fast she was breathing or even whether she was breathing beyond the sound of her own ragged breath.

"Fuck!" she heard herself shriek at an ungodly volume. "Don't fucking stop!"

"Ow," Drake complained breathlessly. "Fucking no proprioception- stop talking, ok? You won't be able to do it at a reasonable volume."

"Ok!" she screamed back at the voice commanding her from nowhere. The pleasure was coming faster now, and she heard her breath speeding up.

Oh! The disembodied spritzes of hormones her body was presumably triggering in her brain spiked again, and she wondered euphorically if she was orgasming. She opened her mouth (assumed she did, since she couldn't really tell) to ask but remembered what Drake had said. No talking.

Natasha basked in the feeling for an interminable moment before it was fading, fading slowly from her. She felt an immense sense of release and relief, although she had no physical reference point for it. She wondered if it was in her soul, then she wondered if she had a soul. She hoped she did.

There was a knock at the door and from somewhere she heard Drake swear. It was weird, she could tell which ear she heard his voice in but she couldn't even picture a real space. Everything was this sunken into this static, incorporeal haze of-

"Fuck!" Her train of thought was interrupted by an expletive floating indistinctly through her mind in Drake's voice. There was the sound of a door opening. "Mrs. Ashcroft? What are you doing?"

A female voice joined. It surrounded her, coming from all directions and nowhere. "Oh, hello, Mr. Drake." It giggled, which may have gone on for half a second or hours. "I need something."

Before she was finished speaking, there was a thump and the sound of Drake coughing. "What's happening?" she asked in terror. "Is everything ok?"

An indeterminate time passed before Drake sighed out an answer.

"Everything's fine."