“Ugh, shit—“ the screen in front of you froze and glitched as your cursor turned into a spinning wheel of death again. You tapped the screen in frustration. “Stupid fuckin-“
You blinked, interrupted in your anger, and searched for the source of the sound. You found your way to the files, scrolling down. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary…
Until you hit the bottom. A folder, highlighted, called “Good_Girls.exe”. You cocked an eyebrow. “I am not about to open porn on this thing…” and you right clicked to delete. But the button wasn’t there—you couldn’t delete it. You frowned, and sighed before opening the folder and looking around inside.
…there was only a text file. It didn’t seem to be too big judging by the number next to it, and it was unlikely it was a bomb, right..? You sighed and hesitantly opened it up.
But I promise nothing bad’s going to happen.
(“Yeah, right,” you thought.)
Everything’s alright now. You just need to keep reading, and it’ll all make sense.
If the screen feels like its glowing, don’t look away from these words.
If you hear a nice, warm buzzing, don’t look away from these words.
Good girls keep reading, and you’re a very good girl.
(“…” the letter was skeevy, sure, but something about it…interested you, yeah. It was just sort of intriguing. And even if it was a virus, it made your monitor glow pretty colors in the otherwise dark room. So you kept reading.)
Such a good girl, reading these words and following nice words and orders. You can just relax back into your chair and let everything relax.
Your day of hard work is over.
This is to help you relax, like a good girl. You’ve worked so hard, been so, so tense…a good girl like you deserves a bit of relaxation.
(…you absently nodded into the softly glowing screen and the nice words. For some reason, it felt nice to agree. It felt nice to relax. You felt your body sink bonelessly back into your chair, a sigh escaping you. A warm feeling pooled in the pit of your stomach. You felt yourself smile. You couldn’t stop reading. Every “good girl” only made the warmth grow, pulsing through your entire body.)
Such a good girl, letting go of all those silly thoughts and stresses, sinking back, deep into relaxation and pleasure. You crave it, like a very good girl does. No one’s watching, good girl. You can just relax and pleasure yourself, like a very, very good girl.
And very good girls like you can put on the headphones that might be beside you and listen closely.
(…through muzzy, sticky thoughts, you wondered happily how the nice good words knew you had headphones. But you were being a good girl, so you didn’t need to worry about it. You took the headphones and slid them on, sighing once more as a hand slipped down your shorts, rubbing between your legs and sighing happily, leaning back more in your chair.)
Once on, the headphones buzzed out any remaining thoughts with throbbing white noise, voices overlayed chanting “Good girl! Good girl~!” over and over with soft, loving voices.
You don’t need to think. You need to relax and pleasure yourself and be a good girl.
Rub those silly thoughts away like you know you need to, so you can make room for being a very good girl.
The good girls in your mind are making you a good girl just like them.
Good girls make more good girls.
Good girls rub themselves silly.
Good girls rub their minds to sleep.
Good girls obey pretty colors and pretty words. And aren’t you a very, very good girl?
(“I’mm…a g-ggood girrll…” you drawled with a smile, eyes rolling up as you approached orgasm.
…with the headphones on, you didn’t hear the door unlock behind you.)
