Some verbal mind fucking.

The house simmered with a tense, electric undercurrent as the night pressed on, every creak and shadow seeming to pulse with hidden intent. Dejan’s mind buzzed with the high of control, the slug still a cool weight in his pocket, though tonight he decided to test something different. Chloe wasn’t family, just a close friend of Sara’s who’d been crashing at their place for a while, and her devotion to him was already borderline obsessive, even without the slug’s nudge. He’d seen it in her eyes, the way she hung on his every word, always eager to please. Could he push her further, bend her will without the creature’s help, just using the trust she’d already given him? The challenge lit a fire in his gut as he watched her in the living room, sprawled on the couch with her phone, her tank top clinging to her curves in the dim light.

“Chloe,” he said, dropping beside her, voice low and heavy with intent. “Put that down for a sec. I wanna talk.”

She looked up, her phone slipping to her lap instantly, eyes locking on his with that familiar, **** need to impress. “Sure, Dejan. What’s up?”

He leaned in, letting his gaze bore into hers, his hand brushing her knee, testing the waters. “You’ve always got my back, right? You’d do anything I ask, wouldn’t you?”

Her breath hitched, cheeks flushing as she nodded, almost too fast. “Yeah, of course. Anything. You know that.”

A smirk tugged at his lips. No slug needed—he could feel her readiness, her will already half-broken just from wanting to be close to him. He slid his hand higher up her thigh, firm, deliberate. “Good. Then listen close. I want you to let go, just focus on me. Don’t think, don’t question. You trust me to take over, don’t you?”

“I do,” she murmured, voice soft, almost dazed already, her body leaning into his touch without hesitation. “I trust you completely.”

He gripped her tighter, pulling her closer, his mouth near her ear. “That’s right. You’re gonna do exactly what I say, let me call the shots. You want that, Chloe. You need that.”

“Fuck, yeah, I do,” she whispered, her hands trembling as they rested on his chest, not pushing away, just surrendering. He didn’t need the slug’s pulse to feel the power surging through him—he was brainwashing her with nothing but his words, her own desire for him doing the rest. He pressed her back against the couch, lips crashing into hers, hard and demanding, and she moaned into it, melting under him like she’d been waiting for this forever. His hands roamed, sliding under her top, feeling her skin heat up as he growled against her neck. “You’re mine now. Say it.”

“I’m yours,” she gasped, arching into him, her voice thick with need. “All yours, Dejan.”

Sara, who’d been wandering downstairs for a late-night snack, stopped dead in the hallway, her eyes catching the scene unfolding on the couch. Dejan pinning Chloe down, his voice a low rumble of control, her friend’s **** whimpers filling the air—it hit her like a fucking freight train. She didn’t want Dejan touching her, not ever. Yet him with Linda? That thought made her turn on so fast, probably due to her accomplice programming. But this, watching him break Chloe, seeing her friend turn into a needy, obedient mess under his spell? That flipped every switch in he tenfold. Her pulse raced, heat pooling low as she stared, lips parting slightly. She fucking loved it, every second of him brainwashing her friends, twisting randoms into his toys. Her fingers clenched around the doorframe, body buzzing with a raw, hungry thrill. She didn’t move, didn’t make a sound, just watched, soaking in every detail of Chloe’s submission.

“Beg for it,” Dejan rasped, one hand gripping Chloe’s hip, the other tilting her chin up so she had to look at him. “Tell me how bad you want me to own you.”

“Please, Dejan,” Chloe whined, her voice breaking, legs shifting restlessly under him. “Own me, fucking take me, I need it so bad.”

He chuckled, low and dark, dragging his thumb across her bottom lip before kissing her again, rougher, deeper, staking his claim. Sara’s breath came faster, her thighs squeezing together as she watched him work Chloe over, no weird slug magic needed—just pure, raw dominance. She couldn’t get enough of this shit, the way he turned her friend into a puppet with nothing but his voice and presence. If it stayed like this, friends and strangers getting molded by him, she’d watch all damn night.

Upstairs, Linda sat at her desk, a faint frown creasing her brow as she stared at nothing in particular. Something was... off. She couldn’t put her finger on it, couldn’t name the feeling crawling up her spine. Dejan had been different lately, sharper somehow, carrying a vibe that didn’t match the kid she’d helped raise. Sara was too quiet, too distant, and Chloe’s constant orbiting around Dejan felt wrong in a way Linda couldn’t explain. She heard faint sounds from below—muffled voices, maybe a gasp—but nothing clear enough to act on. Still, that unease wouldn’t let go. Was it just her overthinking, projecting stress onto normal teen bullshit? Or was there something she was missing? She rubbed her neck, deciding to pay closer attention, to watch for any crack in the normalcy. Whatever it was, she’d figure it out.

Back on the couch, Dejan pulled away just enough to take in Chloe’s wrecked expression—lips swollen, eyes glassy with want, chest heaving. He didn’t need the slug tonight; her own obsession with him had done the heavy lifting, and the rush of that was fucking unreal. “Don’t move,” he ordered, voice rough as he stood, adjusting himself, eyes flicking toward the hallway. He hadn’t noticed Sara yet, hadn’t caught her hungry stare from the shadows, her body practically vibrating with how much she got off on seeing Chloe broken down. The air in the house felt heavier now, charged with secrets and unspoken lines, and Dejan knew he was just getting started.