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"You know, Fordsy, I think we oughta do a little... test, of your willpower," Bill had said to him. He didn't quite understand why, in all honesty, but... if his Muse thought it to be necessary, then who was he to deny him? Still, he did wonder... As he turned inward to his Mindscape, Ford sat across from Bill in a soft, comfortable armchair.
"If you're trying to test me, to see if I resist..." Ford asked, "Why make it so comfortable?"
Bill rolled his eye, "Well, that's kind of the point. It's not really a good test if I sit you down on a hunk of rock that distracts you, is it?"
"But why are we--?"
"I'll get to that, if you let me start."
Ford nodded with a huff, "Okay. Let's start."
"Wonderful," Bill's eye crinkled in smile. Being Euclydian as he was, he struggled with volume and tone, but during these exercises... Well, he could keep them fairly well under control. More conversational, almost gentle at times. "You know..." he started, "There are some pretty awful people out there, aren't there? Real monsters."
Looking down at his own hands, gently rubbing into his palm, Ford answered, "Yes..."
"That's why-- look back up at me, please," Bill said, to which Ford turned his gaze back on the triangle. "So that's why we're doing this. Trance is a delicate state of mind, isn't it?"
"True..."
"And it feels so nice. Peaceful, empty, happy..." Bill softly sighed, "Helps you to stop worrying so much. And once you've woken up... it's like you've cleaned out some of the junk. Yeah?"
Ford nodded with a little smile, "Absolutely. It's easier to focus on problems when you've got a clear mind, and... ha, well, that's certainly one way of doing it."
"Mhmmmm," Bill hummed. "But you know, even with the trust you've given me, the power... I'm not the only one who could put you into trance. Nope, any old Joe Schmoe can pick up a book and learn some of these techniques! And we can't have that, can we?"
"...R-right, I suppose. Though," Ford protested, "I don't think it's likely-"
Bill tutted, raising a finger, "Not to mention some of the creatures around here. They don't even need books and techniques, they've just got magic! And what if I'm not there to save you? You should be able to resist on your own, huh?"
Ford tapped his fingers in thought, for a moment. "No, you're right. That makes sense..."
"Glad we're on the same page," Bill chuckled. "So, I want you to focus on me, the same as you always do, hanging on my words. But instead of falling, instead of letting yourself sink, and drop, and empty that pretty little head of yours... You're going to resist."
"I-" Ford cleared his throat, pushing back against a subtle fuzz already rising from just hearing those familiar, ever-comforting words. "I'll give it my best shot."
"Good," Bill answered, ruffling Ford's hair. "You like when I do that, huh? Makes you feel so nice and relaxed."
"That's- you're cheating already," he complained.
"Oh, come on," Bill said, "The whole point is you have to actually try, here. I'm not handing it to you on a silver platter, and neither would anyone else."
"F-fine," Ford huffed. "Start- start again."
Chuckling, Bill answered, "Anything for you. See," he explained, "Trance is a vulnerable state of mind. I know how much you like it, but it's not always safe, now is it? That's why I want you to resist."
"Resist," Ford repeated quietly to himself. "You can resist, Ford..."
"Can you? Prove it to me. Following my words, a path leading you astray. But is the path really so important if it feels good, Fordsy?"
"Well, yes..." he answered. "I-it's important to be safe. To follow the proper signage, instead of... instead of going off track. Even if that is... s-sometimes more satisfying."
"Good, you're doing good," Bill blinked slowly. "Focussing so hard on my words, so you can make extra sure you're resisting all of them. Yeah?"
"Right..." he nodded.
"And even if you want to close your eyes...?" Bill asked curiously.
"I, uh... I won't...?"
"Great answer... 'cause if you're wanting to close your eyes, that means you're not really doing a good job at resisting. If your eyelids feel heavy, well, you might as well just give in!" he laughed. "But your eyelids aren't heavy, are they?"
"O-of course not," Ford lied, forcing his eyes to widen when he realised they really had slightly lidded. "I can resist. It's- it's not that hard."
"It isn't?" Bill asked deviously, Ford quickly regretting the boast. "If that's the case, then I better step it up a notch!"
"That- well, that isn't really necessary," he protested, earning an eyeroll from Bill.
"Oh, please. I have to test you, that's just a fact. If you're not bluffing, then we'll know you've got a will of steel, and I don't have to worry about a thing. And if you are bluffing..." Bill chuckled, gently flicked Ford's nose, and watched the man ever so subtly sway as if he'd pressed a button. "Well, I won't spoil the surprise!"
Ford rubbed his nose, relenting with a sigh. "Okay. I-I accept."
"Did you really have a choice?"
"Wh-what?"
"Oh, that's not important," Bill shrugged, "Let's just keep going."
"...Okay," he hesitated, taking a deep breath and just hoping Bill wasn't going to catch on. "I'm ready."
"Fantastic! As I was saying," Bill rubbed his hands together, "Keeping your focus on my words. Keeping your focus on me, that's it. Letting your eyes follow every little thing I do, but you're not going to let your mind follow, are you? No, you're good at resisting like that... yes, you're so very good, isn't that right?"
"That's... that's a trick question," Ford said softly. "If I say yes... I'm not, not telling you I'm resisting, necessarily..."
"Ooh, smart, clever IQ!" Bill cooed, fluttering his fingers and watching Ford's eyes follow them. "So, surely, you're not going to let me distract you? Surely you're not going to lose track of the words I'm saying, hmm, and wonder what you were doing just now?"
"R-right," Ford swallowed thickly.
"And if I, say, stop moving-" he held his hand in place, "You won't stop with it, will you?"
Ford's breath hitched, almost a soft gasp leaving his lips as his body remembered to start again. Shit. He faked a cough, in the hopes of somehow deflecting.
"You didn't actually stop breathing just now, did you?" Bill asked, a slightly threatening edge to his voice.
"N-no, of course not, my Muse," Ford bluffed, "I-I just... something, i-in my throat."
"Hmm..." Bill pondered with a click, then brushed it off. "Works for me! Now, where was I... ah, right! What have you been doing this whole time, anyway?"
"U-uh," Ford stammered, "Resisting."
"Ohh, that's right," Bill said, a little... smug. "So if I tell you to-" he snapped his fingers- "-drop, you won't actually drop, right?"
"Th-that's..." Ford answered, words laboured in his mouth as he tried to resist the fall, "That's r-right..."
Bill's eye crinkled in smile, reaching forward to ruffle Ford's hair once more. "That's right... You're resisting because you're such a good boy, aren't you?"
Ford blinked slowly, grunting in confusion. "Wait... b-but..."
"Uh-uh!" Bill tutted, "No need to think about it, isn't that right?"
"Nghh..." Ford gritted his teeth, "I'm n-not... not a..."
Snap. "Drop for me, Fordsy."
He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, breathing heavily as he tried to push back against the sweet serenity of trance. "I don't- I, I c-can't..."
"Resisting or falling, you're so good, so cute, so sweet..." Bill chuckled, ignoring Ford's protests.
"T-test," Ford struggled, "This- a, a test-"
"Of course it is! And I'm very impressed, let me tell you," Bill said. "So much so, that I think you deserve to-" Snap. "Drop."
Ford could feel his head sway, the chair around him so soft and comfortable, threatening to pull him down deeper if he would just relax a little more, let some of that tension go. Keeping his eyes open was a losing battle, so he relented on that front, saving that bit of his focus and his energy for everything else Bill was throwing at him. "I'm- I can-" he huffed, grasping for words.
"You're what, hmm?" Bill asked, "What can you do?"
"I- I can... keep... going," he boasted, voice shaky and unsure.
"I'm sure you can. That's why I'm going to-" Snap.
...But no command followed, leaving Ford teetering on the edge. It shouldn't have been so frustrating, but it- it was. Bill was just taunting him now, when it should be clear he was struggling! And he really shouldn't be, Bill was right, being able to resist was- it was a good thing. A very good thing, oh, there were so many things that could go wrong if he was too pliant, too obedient, too easy to string along...
But this was Bill. His Muse had the best of intentions for him, so it was- it was really hard to resist, when he knew that failing would feel even better. He'd get a hand in his hair, so vivid he could almost feel it in reality, get showered in wonderful praises, the sweet, sensual vulnerability in itself the greatest reward. To fall into the arms of someone who sought to treasure him, what more could he ask for?
"P-please," he choked out, "At least- a-at least finish."
Bill clicked with an air of disappointment, "Oh, my poor Fordsy. Here, I thought you were doing so good... You really were just bluffing, weren't you?"
"N-no!" Ford shouted, as the tears streaking down his face betrayed him. "I-I'm, I'm resisting, I pro-"
"Drop."
The last thread of Ford's resolve snapped, feeling himself sinking back into the chair. So nice... so soft. And warm. Even- even if Bill had a point, well... no one would be able to bring Ford to his knees quite like this. He'd be fine... he was sure he'd be fine...
Bill sighed then, and tutted. "Well, at least you lasted longer than I expected."
"Mhh?" Ford questioned blearily, pouting. "Did... best."
"I know you did," he answered, running his little fingers through Ford's hair. "And that's the worrying part. Wouldn't you agree?"
"Nnnh..."
Snap. "Drop, again." Ford chuckled softly to himself, a little smile of satisfaction on his face. But Bill continued in his complaint, "Don't you see? So easy, so pliant. It's adorable, really, I love it! But Fordsy, you can't do this for just anyone."
"C-course not..."
"If you ask me," Bill said, "I think we should have some regular resistance training, just like this. How's that sound, IQ?"
...it would be practical. But better than that, it would feel good, wouldn't it? So Ford nodded, fighting to open his eyes so he could look at Bill.
"Good, good!" Bill clapped his hands together, "But since I've got you here like this, now... why don't we enjoy it, huh? You did a good job, the best job that you could, and that deserves a reward."
"Mm..." Ford chuckled again, a much bigger, dopier smile on his face. "M'good..."
"Uh-huh! Now then-" Snap. "Drop."