Complicated friendship and an accidental command

As Maisie turned away from you, still engrossed in her exchange with her latest fling, you found yourself staring at her profile: the delicate slope of her nose, the way her lips curved into a secretive smile as she read whatever witty or suggestive remark he’d sent. It was infuriating, how easily she dismissed you, how certain she was that you posed no real threat. And yet, here you were, holding the key to her complete submission.

And what was the most infuriating... she was right. Your beliefs were as firm as before you learned about the existence of a literal magical curse, mind-controlling a woman like that is plain wrong. And yet your body didn’t seem to agree, your hand trembling slightly with the temptation to reach out and touch her, to order her not to stop you, to finally make her see you as more than just some safe, asexual friend.

“You’re so incredibly cruel,” you said, getting her attention "Do you even understand how big the temptation is? And stop looking at the damn phone!" Command without her name shouldn't work so it's more of a complaint, but the words spilled out anyway, raw and unfiltered. You never used this tone on her.

Maisie glanced up, surprised by the sudden anger in your voice. She set her phone down, giving you her full attention for once. "What are you talking about?"

"About this stupid curse," you snapped, gesturing wildly. "You throw it at me like it’s nothing, like I don't have a dick or anything! Can't you understand how tempted I am"

"Tempted?" Maisie interrupted, her eyebrows shooting up. "Tempted to do what, exactly?"

"To… to..." The words stuck in your throat. Admitting it aloud felt like ripping open a wound. "I'm not some kind of saint, Maisie. You can't just hand me unlimited power over you and expect me to ignore it."

She studied you for a long moment, her expression shifting from surprise to something softer, almost sad. "I know," she said quietly. "I guess I just… I had to say it to someone... and you are a decent guy. And you don't even find me attractive. You never tried anything. "

"Don't find you attractive? Just because we are friends... " you throw a sigh. "Besides, I now have the power to enhance your looks in any way I desire, should I want to. And you expect me to resist."

"Then go on, be scum. What do you want? My name plus anything, rules are simple! Grow my tits! Make me kiss you! **** me to give you a blowjob! Make me strip naked right here!" she responded with anger of her own, tears forming in her eyes

"Maisie, calm fucking down," you said it automatically, without remembering that her name plus suggestion became a reality-warping order now,

Her crying stopped immediately, replaced by a calm, serene expression. Her body relaxed, her shoulders dropping. It was as if a switch had been flipped inside her. The fire was gone, replaced by utter tranquility. She looked at you, but her eyes seemed distant, unfocused.

"I'm calm," she said, her voice soft and flat.

You stared at her, horrified. That hadn't been your intention. You'd meant it as a plea, a request, not a mind-rewriting command. And yet... it was done.

"Maisie... Maisie, you don't seem right. Are you okay?" you asked cautiously.

"I'm fine," she replied, still in that strange, detached tone. "Everything is peaceful now. No more worries. No more problems. It is how it is meant to be; it is what the curse is for. You will alter and use me from now on."

"Peaceful," you repeated, confusion turning to concern. "You're not upset anymore?"

"Nope." A small, empty smile touched her lips. "I am just waiting for your next order. You calmed me down. Now, what other changes would you like to make to me?"

She leaned forward, her body language completely passive, submissive, waiting. This wasn't the Maisie you knew. The one who argued, teased, lived life with a vibrant intensity. This Maisie was a shell, a vessel waiting to be filled by your commands. And despite the horror of what you had accidentally done, you couldn't deny the thrill of absolute control.

"Couldn't you just tell it to Mark? He is an absolute gay, total, no way to be more gay than him, he would never use it. " you suggested.

"No," Maisie replied, her voice still had that odd, monotone ring in it. "I considered this. I would be transformed into a cute boy in seconds. Homosexual doesn't mean not a pervert."

"Fine, I see your logic, but there are plenty of other people..."

"You were the safest candidate. Doesn't matter anymore. Even you can't resist. It is fine. Do what you want."

Again, this submissive calm, this complete surrender chilled you to the bone. But it also sent a jolt of raw, undeniable arousal straight through you. You could do anything. Anything at all. And she wouldn’t fight you. She wouldn’t even care.

"Maisie... kiss me," you found yourself saying before you could stop, too curious to try.

She leaned in without hesitation, pressing her lips gently against yours. There was no passion in it, no spark, just obedience. Her mouth was soft and pliant under yours, responding only when you deepened the kiss, her tongue meeting yours in a slow, lethargic dance. The simplicity of it was both terrifying and profoundly erotic.

You pulled back after a moment, studying her face. "Are you really okay with this? You're just going to let me do whatever I want?"

"No not okay. I am merely calm. I don't really want it. But it doesn't matter. You can order me to like it or whatever. And I will do whatever you want. It is how this works." Her expression remained blank, emotionless.

"Fuck..." you whispered, "This is so messed up." But your body wasn't listening to your mind's protests. Your cock was rock hard, straining against your jeans. You wanted more. You wanted everything. Yet there was a room to undo your last command of her being calm about her future fate of a sex-****. You knew it is wrong to continue further.