“Me Time”
Regina locked the bathroom door behind her with a sigh of deep relief that felt like it came all the way up from her very soul. It wasn’t that she was all that worried about being interrupted—Shaneia wasn’t going to be back for hours, and even if her roommate got sent home from work or something, she knew better to walk into the bathroom when the door was closed. But locking the door made Regina feel like the space belonged to her. It made the room into a tiny little bubble of peace and quiet with the whole world on the other side. After a long day of absolutely non-stop bullshit, Regina needed that for a little while.
She began to prepare the bath, twisting the ancient taps back and forth and putting two fingers under the running water to judge the temperature. Only when she felt the perfect amount of heat against her umber skin did Regina push in the thick rubber plug and let the tub fill up at last. A drizzle of bath oil filled the room with the scent of roses, an aroma so comfortably associated with relaxation for Regina that her momentary irritation with their outdated plumbing and their cheap landlord faded away almost instantly.
She took her phone out of the pocket of the sheer pink satin robe, starting up her ‘Me Time’ playlist before setting the device on the counter by the sink. Slow, soft instrumental music filled the thickly-scented air, with a thrumming bass sound that practically massaged Regina’s eardrums with every measure. She let out another long, deep sigh, releasing more and more tension with each breath as she doffed her robe and slid her panties down her long, smooth legs. “God, I fucking needed this,” she murmured to herself, stepping out of her underwear and into the bath.
She sank slowly into the hot water, giving herself a moment to get used to the intense warmth that seeped into her skin and relaxed her muscles into soft, dreamy lassitude. Only when she was sure that she’d adjusted did she lay back against the ceramic surface and let the water buoy her body gently up until she floated in perfect, rose-scented peace and tranquility. (With some parts floating a little bit higher than others—Regina had long ago given up trying to keep her pendulous breasts fully submerged in the tub.)
This was exactly what she needed. No clients demanding status reports on work that they ordered just three hours prior, no obnoxious bosses who kept confusing her with the only other black woman in the office, no dreary commutes or uncomfortable dress codes or awkward coworkers. Just soft music, warm water lapping gently at her skin, and the scent of roses filling her lungs with every deep, lazy breath. Regina could feel the tension melting out of her muscles, the drowsy heat seeping into her body deeper and deeper. She didn’t have anywhere to be, she didn’t have anything to do, and she was all by herself for hours. It felt... it felt wonderful.
Regina let out another sigh, her eyes slipping shut and her forehead relaxing away furrows of stress she didn’t even know were there as she melted deeper into lazy bliss. “I’m an empty, obedient fucktoy,” she murmured to herself, the words coming out in a soft, breathy whisper that even she could barely hear under the gentle music coming from her phone. A slow, drowsy smile spread across her lips, the sound of her own sleepy voice wrapping her mind up in familiar and comfortable tranquility before she thought about what she was saying.
Then she did think about it, and her eyes fluttered slowly open in bewilderment as the meaning of the words hit her. Why did she just say that? Regina realized that she didn’t actually know. She’d just been floating there, her mind not on anything in particular, and suddenly she’d felt this slow, insistent tug in the back of her head and that sentence had just... popped out. Like it just waiting for her to say it all along. Like the whole bath was just an excuse to lie back in the warm water and whisper to herself, “I’m an empty, obedient fucktoy.”
Regina realized she hadn’t just thought the words. She’d said them out loud. Again. They’d simply slipped out, like she was so used to saying them that the moment they popped into her head, her lips moved automatically and her breath went out in a slow, lazy sigh of peace and pleasure and she found herself repeating, “I’m an empty, obedient fucktoy.” Exactly like that, she suddenly noticed, hearing her drowsy voice repeating the words for a third time. Just exactly like that.
The strange thing was, they felt so good coming out of her mouth. They gave Regina a warm, fuzzy sensation in the back of her head that seemed to caress the base of her mind like soft, gentle fingers, wrapping up her thoughts in peace and comfort and relaxation like she was climbing into bed with sheets fresh out of the dryer. She didn’t know why—the words didn’t feel familiar, exactly, at least not to her memory. But on a deeper level, they seemed absolutely intimate and comfortable and perfectly molded to a channel in her mind that she didn’t even consciously know was there.
Regina tried to put it out of her head, to settle back into the lazy sensations of floating in the warm water with nothing in particular to think about and nothing in particular she needed to do. But it seemed like every time she tried to relax her frazzled brain, the words seeped into the soothing void of calm and tranquility until she heard herself saying, “I’m an empty, obedient fucktoy,” all over again. And every time she repeated it, it felt like that surge of comfortable pleasure got stronger, until her eyelids practically fluttered with the intensity of it.
Regina knew that something was very strange about it all, but she couldn’t seem to concentrate on the situation well enough to figure it out. Every time she tried to wonder why the phrase kept popping into her mind, she had to think about the words to think about the reason, and it was as if her brain short-circuited whenever her train of thought got too close to the deliciously addictive sentence. “I’m an empty, obedient fucktoy,” she heard herself saying again, the pleasure building into dreamy sexual heat as her drowsy voice whispered helplessly into her own ears.
There was something so temptingly familiar about it all, even though Regina’s memory tried as hard as it could to insist that she’d never experienced anything like this before. Every sensation seemed to echo in the back of her head like the touch of an old lover, stirring feelings and emotions that Regina’s mind gravitated to without really understanding why. She murmured, “I’m an empty, obedient fucktoy,” telling herself that she was just trying to figure out what made the words feel so good in the back of her head, but deep down she knew that she was just sinking into the delicious, pleasant heat that they created between her thighs.
Regina’s hands drifted through the water, curling around the soft, sensitive flesh of her breasts and beginning to knead and caress them as she droned out, “I’m an empty, obedient fucktoy.” Something felt so right about playing with her tits while she repeated the words again and again, teasing more and more pleasure from her naked body as the phrase wore its way deeper and deeper into her mind and washed all her other thoughts away with it. It was as if her fingers knew exactly what to do when the mantra sluiced through her brain, even if her memory had long ago given up the struggle against the slow, sucking ecstasy of emptiness.
She didn’t need to remember where she knew the words from. She didn’t need to think about why her brain felt that slow, sleepy, insistent pull to repeat them over and over and over again. She didn’t need to understand why it felt so good to hear her drowsy, blank voice as it helplessly murmured, “I’m an empty, obedient fucktoy,” almost like it wasn’t really her saying it at all. All Regina needed to do was tug on her nipples, squeeze and knead and rub her slick and slippery tits until the pleasure became too powerful to resist. That was the only thing that mattered now.
Another repetition, and suddenly the heat between her thighs was almost more than Regina could stand. “I—I’m an empty, obedient fucktoy,” she whimpered, her voice high and quivering with arousal, and she knew that she couldn’t take much more of this without something inside her aching cunt. She reached over instinctively, her conscious mind utterly astonished to find a waterproof vibrator waiting for her on the lip of the tub. Had that always been there? Or had she put it there during the preparations for her bath? Regina couldn’t remember. Her brain seemed helplessly fogged with lust, too drugged with desire to think of anything but sinking the thick shaft deep into her pussy and turning it on.
“I’m an... empty, obedient fucktoy,” Regina growled, the words tugged from her lips by the buzzing, thrumming pulses of pleasure that hit her right in the clit as she squeezed her legs together around the vibrator and rolled her thumbs over her stiff nipples. All her other thoughts seemed to be crumbling into the void of pleasure that the words opened up in the center of her mind, like there was a sinkhole that led deep into some subconscious pit of pure ecstasy and her brain couldn’t support the weight of her powerful arousal. All Regina could think about was cumming now. The phrase that echoed in her brain ceased to have meaning anymore save as a means of intensifying her euphoric bliss.
She wriggled and splashed, her body creating tiny tsunamis with every quiver of pleasure that coursed through her shuddering, helpless limbs. At some point—she wasn’t quite sure when—her eyes had slipped shut again, and her drowsy mind seemed to have been reduced entirely to the more immediate senses of smell and touch. The thick, rose-scented vapor that rose up from the water connected on a deep, instinctive level with the building arousal between Regina’s legs, coaxing out one whimpering repetition after another of, “I’m an empty, obedient fucktoy.” She couldn’t help associating the words with the sensation, the sensation with the words that echoed through her blank and sleepy brain. It felt good to be empty. It felt good to be obedient. It felt good to be a fucktoy.
“I’m an emmmpty... obedient... fffffktoy,” Regina groaned, her face contorting in ecstasy as she moaned the words out through clenched teeth. Her fingers gripped her breasts tightly, squeezing them helplessly until the pleasure came so intensely that it was almost pain, and her thighs clenched around the vibrator until the pounding thrum resonated through her entire pubic mound. The words made her approaching climax even more powerful, sweeping all her thoughts in front of it like a storm front rolling in over the plains. She was going to cum so hard. She knew it.
“Ehhhmpty! Obedient! Fucktoy!” Regina squealed, slopping water clean over the sides of the tub as her orgasm finally slammed into her with hurricane force. She thought for a moment that she was going to slip under the surface of the water, but her body seemed to be in the grip of some influence that knew just how to control the motion of her limbs to keep her supported against the ceramic surface without any conscious intention on her part. Whatever was down in that sinkhole at the back of her brain was taking care of the boring stuff like not drowning. All Regina could think about was the overwhelming, mind-obliterating pleasure that fucked every last thought out of her head.
Except one. “I’m an... empty... obedient... fucktoy,” Regina murmured drowsily, her body still thrumming with pleasure but her mind a blank white fog of compliance. She smiled, feeling her next orgasm already beginning to grow inside her.
Regina lost track of time as she came and came; her playlist was on ‘Shuffle’, and there was no clock to look at even if she could manage to open her sleepy eyes long enough to see it. The only thing that had any meaning for her was the endless repetition, the chant of “I’m an empty, obedient fucktoy” that flowed through her brain and wiped it clean of thought and memory. She didn’t need to know why she was saying it; all she needed to know was that it was true. She was an empty, obedient fucktoy, and nothing had ever felt so good to her in her entire life. Everything else faded away, leaving her perfectly focused on the bliss of reciting her mantra and sinking deeper into its grasp.
Even when the bathroom door opened, Regina couldn’t manage to pull herself free of the inescapable undertow of pleasure. She knew what the sound of creaking hinges meant, she registered the clack of footsteps on the hard tile floor... but she couldn’t make herself open her heavy, drowsy eyes to see who had entered. She couldn’t stop playing with her tits or squeezing her thighs around the buzzing vibrator inside her cunt. She could only wonder if she’d ever truly locked the door at all, or if her subconscious merely tricked her into thinking that she did the same way it tricked her into taking a long bath, the same way it tricked her into forgetting the words that melted her mind into soft, helpless compliance.
Then she heard herself reciting, “I’m an empty, obedient fucktoy,” and even those thoughts went away for a while.