[ standard procedure. it's only fair. give and take. petre gets the first move - and what a move it is. he drops on his knees at the order. quick. tiredly. like he's bored and decided he needed a rest.
but he's not bored. he doesn't want to rest and he realizes it right after. there's a control here. petre has such a good power. ordering people around. it's fun. it's fascinating. he doesn't like it used on him but he asked him to go first so there's nothing held against him there, as humiliating as it is. he thinks, had they been switched, he'd say the same exact thing. give the same order. make someone crawl in their designer pants across the carpet to them.
and he does. as ordered right to him - slowly. catlike maybe. it's fascinating how this works. convincing you it's your own idea while it's happening. and if someone wasn't so aware this is something they would never do on their own, one could surely be persuaded it was their own mind, couldn't they? not harry - he'd know, he thinks. but someone else. the simple minded could be slaves to petre and be blissfully unaware of it.
but enough humiliation for one day. harry's on his knees in front of him now - and he reaches up and grabs petre by the hand. a smile spreading across his face. petre first and now harry goes.
give and take.
it would feel like nothing on contact. but everything slows down. a tiredness that sets in. a steady drop in mood. a pain in the joints. a dizziness. like being hit with a tranquilizer that threatens to make one drop. like there's an invisible wound that's bleeding everything out and draining you dry. a fatigue that starts setting in so strongly that it's like one's very life is being sucked away - because it is right from contact. ]
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but he's not bored. he doesn't want to rest and he realizes it right after. there's a control here. petre has such a good power. ordering people around. it's fun. it's fascinating. he doesn't like it used on him but he asked him to go first so there's nothing held against him there, as humiliating as it is. he thinks, had they been switched, he'd say the same exact thing. give the same order. make someone crawl in their designer pants across the carpet to them.
and he does. as ordered right to him - slowly. catlike maybe. it's fascinating how this works. convincing you it's your own idea while it's happening. and if someone wasn't so aware this is something they would never do on their own, one could surely be persuaded it was their own mind, couldn't they? not harry - he'd know, he thinks. but someone else. the simple minded could be slaves to petre and be blissfully unaware of it.
but enough humiliation for one day. harry's on his knees in front of him now - and he reaches up and grabs petre by the hand. a smile spreading across his face. petre first and now harry goes.
give and take.
it would feel like nothing on contact. but everything slows down. a tiredness that sets in. a steady drop in mood. a pain in the joints. a dizziness. like being hit with a tranquilizer that threatens to make one drop. like there's an invisible wound that's bleeding everything out and draining you dry. a fatigue that starts setting in so strongly that it's like one's very life is being sucked away - because it is right from contact. ]