Patricia returns to the Herbalist

The old Herbalist’s crowded little shop was empty except for Patricia and the shopkeeper. The room was dimly lit by small open windows,with shelves filled to the brim with tiny jars, bags, nick-knacks, and exotic aromas. She perused the shop as she brooded over the teenager next door. After all she’d done for him —with him— the teen had left her alone, again. So much for “Maybe”, she thought. She was determined to see him one more time, before he was off to college, but she had an idea that required a bit more alchemy this time. The lust potion was too strong a persuasion that had obviously scarred the boy, and it proved itself uncontrollable, (though she very much enjoyed chaotic fucking it brought) so this time she was determined to have control of the situation. There were several possibilities on the shelves: a sleep potion would leave her with all of the heavy lifting, and the lower dosage lust potions were also tempting, as well as “Suggestion” potions that claimed to alter a person’s perceptions and opinions over a long period of time, but the best bet was a tiny little vial that read: SUBMISSION — “Family not cooperating? Boss getting on your nerves? Get Your Way With Just 1 Vial Today!™” **For use in controlled environments only, any recipient given this product will be rendered subject to the will of any and all others within subject’s earshot until said product has been fully metabolized. Any events, costs in damages, or deaths as a result of use or misuse of this product are the sole responsibility of the product administer. (Estimated duration of effect: 4 hours, ∓1 hour). No side effects guaranteed! **

She picked up the submission vial and tapped it with her index finger; she knew that Dustin would not drink any “potion” out right if she offered it, but if she could spike another drink, perhaps that would work. She looked around the shelves while she mulled the idea over. The vial was not as cheap as another lust potion, but she was willing to pay just about anything to make this work her way. She would have to work out a plan to get her alone with the boy once again, and somehow get him to drink the potion without knowing it. She thought for a moment longer, shook her head and walked to the shopkeeper to buy the damn thing. As she left the shop and entered her car she had the beginnings of a plan in mind. She would have to remain patient in order for this to work, but she liked a challenge.

Patricia waited until another saturday afternoon, almost an entire month after their last encounter and only a week before Dustin was to leave for college. When she finally called next door, Dustin’s mother picked up the phone.

“Hi Cindy, is Dustin around?”

Cindy listened for the sound of video games in the front room. “. . .Yes, he should be around. What’s up?”

Patricia smiled, “He probably doesn’t even remember now, but at the beginning of the summer he told me that he’d mow my lawn if I needed him, and the grass is getting really long.”

“He promised? He hasn’t even mowed my lawn this summer.” She giggled, listening to the video games in the other room. “Ah, no problem. I’m sure he’d love to get out in the sun for a few. I’ll have him do both of our lawns.”

“He’s been slacking huh? I’m glad I called then. He can’t play videogames all summer without some sort of work.” Both of the women laughed. “May I speak to him? You might need a simple mow but I want some detail work done. Might keep him here a few hours.”

“Oh? Sure, make him earn his pay!” Cindy said with a grin. She held up the phone, ”Dusty! Phone honey!”

Dustin tried to ignore his mother, but after another prompt he knew he had to get up or face some extra chores later. He had been listening to her conversation with whoever that was on the phone, something about mowing lawns. Easy stuff. His mother handed him the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hello Dusty” Patricia grinned deviously, she liked that nickname.

Nobody calls me Dusty except mom and Aunty Ana. After a moment his stomach turned with the realization. Still standing next to his mother, he recoiled away in embarrassment.

“Mrs. Hadley!?” he whisper-shouted. “What do you want?”

“Oh, nothing,” She sat with her phone in one hand, the empty vial of submission in the other, reclining on her couch. “Your mother says you’ve been slacking on lawn duty, so you’ll be doing your lawn and mine. Make sure my edges are clean-cut.”

“She what?” he turned back to his mother, who was obviously still listening to him.

“You need to get out in the sun more, honey.” Cindy said, shrugging.

Dustin stood there simmering for a long moment, but gave it up before starting a large argument.

It took him a little over an hour to finish both of his lawns, and both of Mrs. Hadley’s. It was blazing hot outside and he was sweating heavily. As he wiped the sweat from his brow he saw a bottle of gatorade sitting on Mrs. Hadley’s back porch. He was so thirsty, but the last time he drank something she gave him it did not end exactly how he had planned. He could tell the bottle was ice cold, sweating beautiful little beads of condensed water onto a note on the table. Probably a “thank you” note. He scoffed to himself and walked over to the table and looked around. She was nowhere to be seen, only the bottle and the note. He ignored the note and inspected the bottle. The seal on the cap had not been broken, and he could find no holes around the sides of the bottle. If she had altered it, he could not tell how. The cold bottle felt amazing in his hands. He touched the chilled surface to his neck and enjoyed the respite from the heat. He looked down at the note on the table; it only had three words on it: come inside please. Dustin barked a short laugh at the request. Fat chance.