No I

“Penny for your thoughts stranger?” He looked up from the bar counter to the woman sliding a coin to him. She was tall, dark, and mysterious, with jet-black hair and bright, green eyes.
“No, thanks. My thoughts aren’t that cheap,” he replied, looking once more for solace at the bottom of a beer bottle. He touched the coin and a surge of electricity rushed through his body, awakening inner fetishes he didn’t even know he had.
“Can I have them for free, then?” She slid past a group of rowdy bikers to sit next to him, shiny latex gloves caressing his legs. A cigarette appeared between her perfect lips. The coin was shining on the counter now, an eerie golden glow for his eyes only.
“I…” he muttered, fingers trembling out of control.
“There’s no I in slave,” she concluded, picking up the coin once again and taking his free will with it. He stood up, arms to the side, and followed her out of the bar and into the darkness of the night where all resistance goes to die. No one ever saw him again.