Succubus Take Over
Part 11 — Epilogue
The alarm clock was loud in the large room, stirring him from his sleep. Groggily he opened his eyes and looked around. He was lying naked on the floor, as usual, dried cum upon his chest. He vaguely recalled wanking himself to sleep, as he always did, but it was not important. Slowly, he pulled himself to a sitting position, just in time for the large screen mounted on the wall to come on.
As ever, the wide monitor came alive with images of Meridiana. The video was always the same, his Mistress sat naked upon a throne, a self-satisfied grin upon her gorgeous face. Just the sight of her full tits, her long legs, and her amazing feet, got him hard. At once he felt his tiny cock hardening, and his hands went to it automatically. He began jerking as the recording began to speak.
“Good morning, slaves,” purred Meridiana. “Oh, I know you are all beginning the day right. Feast your eyes on my perfect body and fap yourselves awake!”
He was dimly aware that he was not alone in the room, that he had slept on the floor with two dozen other naked men. Like him they had small cocks, and like him they now sat on their knees, staring at Meridiana’s image as they wanked.
“Yes… that’s it!” she urged. “Keep jerking! Stroke your worthless lives away! Every pathetic time you spurt, you losers destroy more of your minds!” Meridiana laughed at this. “Oh, not that any of you care! All you want to do is drool, stroke, and worship me! So go on!” she said, toying with her tits with one hand and parting her legs to tease her pussy with the other. “Gaze upon my nude body, burn it into your minds, and wank yourselves stupid! Now… cum for me my slaves!”
He spurted on command, as he did every morning. The pleasure tore through him, so FUCKING GOOD! It seared his mind, the ecstasy so intense that he almost blanked out, riding the high for all it was worth as he—and two dozen others—moaned loudly and obscenely. When he finally came down from his high, he looked down and found his hands covered in jism. He knew to lick it up, so he did, though some dropped to the floor. There it joined the countless other cum stains on the carpet, and only a small portion were his. Not that it mattered. This was where he slept. Meridiana commanded it.
After a suitable time had passed, the image of Meridiana spoke again. “Rise, my slaves. Go to the shower room and clean your filthy bodies. Then get to work!”
He rose, and joined the other cum-covered slaves in marching from the room. The one nearest the door opened it, and as they walked by he noticed the sign on the door. It read “Conference Room F” and someone had written “ap” after the F in big red marker. He had no idea why. It did not matter. Only obedience mattered.
Near to the conference room was another large room, one fitted with multiple open showers and a tiled floor. He dimly recalled some men coming to the office and installing the fixtures and fittings. Some were now serving the Priestesses as sex slaves, and a couple were wankers like him. Yes, that was for the best. All had to serve…
He moved beneath a shower and turned it on. The hot water cascaded over him, and he soaped his body to clean it. Idly he noticed a man standing next to him, applying lather to his tiny cock and, deciding he liked it, jerking himself off with the soap as lubricant. What a great idea! Quickly he and several other slaves copied, relishing the feel of their hands on their pathetic dicklets. They needed to wank… needed to cum… it had already been SO LONG since they had cum!
Eventually he ejaculated, moaning and shaking, getting high like the addict he was. The jism washed off him in the shower, and satisfied that he was (no doubt temporarily) clean, he joined the others in grabbing towels and drying off. He and the parade of dazed, naked slaves then wandered out and into the larger office to begin their work.
Somewhere in the depths of his mind, he recalled waking up somewhere else, and getting to work by having to take a… bus, was it? It did not matter. The memory faded every day and no doubt would soon be gone. Just like that thing, and the other thing. Whatever. If it was important then Mistress would have told him so.
He found his cubicle, a mess with cum stains on the floor and walls. He sat down at the desk, logging into his computer, and began crunching numbers. He knew how to do this. Mistress Meridiana had been careful to preserve that part of his mind so that… so that… something. Something about money and “keeping up appearances to the outside world.” Nothing he had to worry about. All he had to do was type with his right hand and fap with his left. Yes… felt so easy to work while fapping… he would rather be staring at Meridiana’s feet than at a spreadsheet, but masturbating his joke of a cock was soothing… just so easy to jerk and obey Mistress’ commands to work…
Some amount of time passed. He neither knew nor cared how much. He came a few times, exploding across the underside of his desk and licking his hands clean afterwards. Yes… felt so good…
Suddenly someone arrived in his cubicle. He turned around to face them, still idly and openly pumping his dicklet. It was the High Priestess, Hirakata. She too was naked, but for a single golden pendant hung between her full tits, the glyph upon it a sign of her favoured status. As Meridiana’s right hand, she was above all others, and she radiated arrogant dominance.
At once he slid from his chair, kneeling before her. Staring at her smooth feet and perfect toes, he began fapping faster. Hirakata smiled wickedly, pleased to see him so broken and lost. When he finally wanked his way up to full orgasm, he ejaculated messily, eyes rolling back in his head as the rush of pleasure consumed his mind and soul. “Fuckkk….” he groaned.
She glanced down at her jizzed feet. “Lick them clean, slave, and listen to my commands.”
“Yes, Mistress…” he said as he obeyed, tasting his salty ejaculate as he listened intently to her words. Whatever she said, he knew he would obey. Mindless… unthinking… obedience… yes… that was best… Mistress Meridiana had commanded that as the price for his endless wanking…
“Complete the account you are working on, print out the stats, and bring them to Priestess Stepson. Then and only then can you get breakfast.” She frowned. “Do you even realize you are hungry?”
“Hun… gry…?” he mused, not quite understanding. He finished licking his repulsive loser-load from her feet and looked up the High Priestess worshipfully. “I… I must wank… wank and obey, Mistress…” he said, not really sure why anything else was important.
She sighed. “You are lucky we Priestesses are here to think for you then,” she said, disgusted by his weakness. “Now, return to your desk and follow my commands. I have wasted enough time on you already.”
“Yes, Mistress…” he said, returning to his chair and resuming work. He barely noticed the High Priestess depart as he focused on his task. All that mattered was obeying her commands… doing the job given to him… and stroking his cock. Yes… that felt good… just wanking as he worked… jerking his mind away…
After cumming another three times, his task was finally finished. He hit print, and gathered the papers that were spat out. He knew from previous experience to thoroughly lick his hands clean of cum before lifting the valuable pages and leaving his cubicle.
He walked through the office, glancing in at other cubicles as he went. Other naked slaves were there, idly stroking their dicklets as they worked. One was moaning with orgasmic release as he passed, and he instantly felt envious.
A dim, distant thought occurred to his mostly-empty mind, that he was walking naked through an office. Did… did someone once threaten to make him do that…? He could not quite recall. Wasn’t it… odd… to walk naked in an office? He stopped, struggling with the strange thought…
Wait. Mistress Meridiana herself had declared that he was to be naked at all times, and that was therefore right. Nudity in an office was right. Yes… just thinking of Meridiana helped. His small dick began to harden as the pesky thoughts melted away. He grasped the paperwork in one hand and decided to begin fapping with the other as he resumed walking. Oh yes! The feeling of his hand on his tiny cock felt so good… as ever, thinking of Meridiana and wanking brought blissful, mindless clarity…
He proceeded on to a large cubicle at the end of the row. The larger ones were assigned to Priestesses, who needed the space for their sex slaves, well-endowed males who were superior to pathetic wankers like him. He walked to the entrance and stopped as he beheld what was going on.
Priestess Stepson was lying on a long divan stretched out before her workspace. A large and muscular man was between her legs, fucking the naked Priestess with rhythmic and powerful thrusts. Her moans of delight showed that the fair-haired woman was pleased with his attention, especially when he leaned down to kiss her luscious tits. A second slave, tall and dark-skinned with a firm ass, stood alongside, his massive cock erect and ready to be called on at a moment’s notice. He was currently serving in a less-sexual capacity, taking notes on a tablet as the Priestess, between gasps of pleasure, dictated notes to him.
“And arrange the meeting… oh fuck!... the meeting with Mr. Wicker .. harder… for three o’clock on… I said harder!... on Tuesday… oh!... yes… yes… YES… FUUUCK!” she screamed out, her voice joining the cacophony of other moans and wails that provided a constant background to the office.
The new arrival watched, his small dick having already swelled to its full three inches as he wanked his way down the corridor, but to see the sex-show in person was making him even harder. Staring openly, he jerked mindlessly, and his delirious moans of pleasure drew attention to him.
Priestess Stepson came down from her orgasmic high, body still trembling and hyper-sensitive. With a glance she dismissed the slave between her legs, who stood up and took his place at the side of his fellow. Neither of the two gorgeous naked men seemed to care about the wanker that had arrived in their midst. They merely stood, cocks hard and minds empty, awaiting the Priestess’s next order.
Looking over at the new arrival, Stepson smiled. “Ah, there you are! You have brought me the file that the High Priestess wanted?” she asked.
“Yes, Mistress…” he said, words almost a moan as he surrendered to the feeling of his masturbation, staring at the Priestess’ naked body as he stroked. Stepping forward, he presented her with the paperwork.
Stepson glanced at it. “You didn’t cum on it, did you, wanker?” she asked suspiciously.
“No… Mistress…” he answered, feeling the urge to explode building and wondering if he would cum right there.
She took the pages, glancing through them, and nodded. “Seems good enough,” she mused. Thoughtfully, she added, “does it not feel odd, wanking to a bunch of spreadsheet columns? That IS what you do, right? Type with one hand and fap with the other?” she asked, sounding amused by the idea.
“I… I must wank… and obey…” he replied, jerking openly before her and proving his point.
She shook her head. “And to think I once liked and respected you,” mused Stepson, glancing down at his pathetic cock. “Little did I know how addicted you were to that tiny joke between your legs. I’ll bet you’re close to cumming, aren’t you?” she asked.
“Yes… nnghh…. Mistress….” he groaned with pleasure.
“Kneel, slave,” she commanded, and he dropped to the floor at once. Turning upon her divan, she presented her delightful feet to his greedy gaze. “Do NOT cum yet, wanker,” she told him. “First, answer my question. Answer correctly and you will be rewarded.”
“Yes… M-Mistress… nngghhh…” he struggled.
“Tell me,” she asked, smiling wickedly, “what is—or WAS—your name?”
Stepson’s eyes lit up with amusement to see his face immediately contort in confusion. “I…” he said, frowning, “I… nnngghhh… I am… a wanker…” he said, not really knowing anything better. He was fapping frantically now, desperate to cum, and the pain of not was excruciating.
“Name…” she said teasingly, enjoying seeing him so confused and conflicted.
He shook his head, trying to clear it, but no answer came forth. “I am a wanker…” he mumbled, “uhhh… oh… wank… I love to wank… I am a wanker… nnngghhh….”
She now laughed in delight. “Wow! You really have jerked yourself stupid, haven’t you?”
“Y-yes.. Miss…nnghhh… Mistress….” he mumbled, stroking as he drooled.
“Well, I promised you a treat if you answered correctly, and you have,” the Priestess congratulated him. She casually lifted her feet, both still sweaty from her sex with a real man, and placed them upon the kneeling slave’s face. “Breathe deep, wanker, and then you may cum,” she commanded softly.
At once he breathed deeply through his nose, the heady aroma of her bare feet filling his head and bringing instant and perverse gratification. The pleasure centre of his brain was on fire, and he gasped as he felt the rush. His hands were a blur on his tiny dicklet, fapping frantically as he got off on her feet. “Yes… yes… nnggghh… uh!... uh!... FUCK!” he cried out as he exploded, still sniffing her feet and moaning into her soles as all rational thought was lost in orgasmic oblivion.
Stepson slowly withdrew her feet from his face, looking down at the pathetic loser as he spurted over her floor. She looked into his eyes, so blank and vacant and lost, as it should be. “Lick that up, slave,” she commanded once he had come down from his high, “and then go to the dining hall.”
Automatically he complied, licking his cum from the carpet before he knew what he was doing. Yes… mindless and instant obedience… just as he was meant to do…
He finished licking up and then shakily stood up. As he turned to depart, Priestess Stepson had already forgotten his existence, turning instead to her two waiting sex slaves and spread her long legs. “I need real men,” she decided out loud. “You, fuck my pussy, and you, fuck my mouth! I want to feel and taste REAL cocks!”
The wanker glanced back as the three-some began, her unthinking slaves already obeying the Priestess’ commands. He would have liked to stay and watch and jerk, but he had his orders. Idly stroking his small cock back to life, he turned and walked away.
He headed away from the main room full of cubicles, and its endless cacophony of moans and wails. Several other naked slaves, mindlessly fapping their tiny cocks, were headed in the same direction. They proceeded to another of the old conference rooms, where another small-dicked stroke-zombie was putting out plates of food on the floor. The slaves up ahead were already dropping to their knees before their meals, prepared to eat off the floor like the lower lifeforms they were.
The wanker found an empty spot and dropped down. Without even thinking, a mantra rose to his lips, part of his programming. “Anything… I eat… or drink… must have… my cum…” he said, knowing at once what he had to do. He had to wank. Yes… that was it… Oh wait. He was masturbating already! Yes… that was for the best… less wasted time that way… A mindless smile on his lips, he leaned forward, aiming his pathetic dicklet at the food (a stray thought said ‘salad’ but that was not important) as he sped up his fapping.
Thoughts of feet came to his mind, his favourite jerk-off material, and his hand began stroking faster. Ever so quickly he felt the rush of approaching orgasm, and was stirred on by the debased moans of his fellow slaves, as they too masturbated over their meals. The man next to him came first, groaning open-mouthed and wide-eyed as he exploded over his food. This seemed to set off a chain reaction around the room, a cacophony of mindless articulations of orgasmic release. The slaves came and came, tiny cocks spewing worthless loser-loads over what they were about to eat. Shuddering with delight, they slowly came down off their highs, and began eating the jizzed messes before them.
The wanker finally finished eating, and his broken mind realised that he now had to drink something. Obediently, he fapped his way to another brain-killing orgasm, jerking his watery cum into the glass of water given to him and then drinking it down. Still kneeling on the floor, he struggled to think of what to do next. However, no one had TOLD him what to do. That meant… what, he wondered? Glancing at the slave beside him, he saw the man staring blankly into space and idly stroking his small dick, and that reminded him. Ah yes! When in doubt, he should be masturbating like a good wanker….
He sped up his jerking as one of the Priestesses—naked and perfect with full breasts and smooth feet—came to stand before him. It was Priestess Alder, red-hair tussled and gorgeous, and emerald eyes alight with power and mischief. “You! Slave! Mistress Meridiana demands your presence in her throne room!”
“Yes… Mistress…” the wanker droned, rising to his feet at once. Still idly fapping, he walked from the room, feeling a swell of excitement. He was going to see the great Meridiana herself! She was the pinnacle of beauty, for whom he gladly wanked his pathetic life away! As his mind filled with images of her sexy glory, he began stroking more vigorously.
“Yes… oh yes…” he groaned aloud as he walked through the office, trying to reach his destination before he came again, but there was no chance. An image of his Mistress’s feet came to him, and that was all it took as he exploded up the side of a cubicle he was passing. Moaning with pleasure, he sank to the ground, jerking frantically until every last ounce of pleasure was milked from his tiny dicklet, revelling in the kind of orgasm that only thoughts of Meridiana could bring. Slowly the feeling began to ebb, and he took a few shuddering breaths to steady himself. Rising again, he cast a glance at the occupant of the cubicle he had exploded beside (another mindless slave who was jerking and drooling while he worked, and had paid no heed to his fellow’s pathetic loss of control), and then continued on his way.
At the far side of the office, he found the throne room. A half-remembered memory told the wanker that this was once the private office of… of someone who was not Meridiana, but this was clearly an error. Meridiana had always been here, had she not? A moment of confusion brought the wanker to a stop, but then he grabbed his cock. A few swift strokes made him hard again, and he began to think straight. There was no-one before Meridiana, he remembered, this was ALWAYS her throne room. With a dumb smile on his face, happy that the world made sense again, he opened the door and stepped through.
The room was a shrine to his Mistress. Pictures of her, naked and superior, were hung on the walls, along with golden figures and marble statues crafted in her glorious likeness. A long red carpet led from the entrance to the ornate throne at the far end. The brass chair was covered in the likenesses of men and women, writhing in a massive, throne-spanning orgy. And sat upon it, in command of all she surveyed, was the magnificent naked form of Meridiana herself.
Her flawless tanned skin, long legs, full tits and perfect feet, all filled the wanker’s vision. He groaned in arousal just to behold her. He almost did not notice the others present. A couple of Priestesses were fawning over their Mistress, massaging oils into her supple skin and caressing her. Two of the handsome stud slave, with thick cocks and firm, muscular bodies, stood by, ready to fuck at a moment’s notice.
“Ah, slave,” purred Meridiana as he entered. Her eyes turned to look at him, and just meeting her gaze sent a surge of pure pleasure through him. He immediately grabbed his hard cock and began stroking. Just the sight of it made his Mistress laugh. “Ha ha! Such a good little wanker!” she said with delighted approval. “Walk over here, slave,” she said, gesturing to a spot in front of her throne.
Shuddering with excitement, he approached, and dropped to his knees before Mistress Meridiana. Her presence was so erotically charged, it seemed to engulf him and make the wanker even more desperate. Fapping before her felt so good, and he stared at her magnificent body as he felt the approach of orgasm.
“You may not cum yet, my slave,” she purred casually, and grinned as she beheld the results.
The wanker gasped as her words echoed around his head, forcing him to comply. He had been feeling the rush of impending orgasm as he jerked for her, but suddenly the sensation seemed to cease growing in intensity. The rise to full orgasm was oddly blocked, and while stroking was still pleasurable, the final push to blissful release was denied him. Making a frustrated and pained face, he did the only thing his broken mind would allow, and he continued to wank mindlessly and enjoy what pleasure his dicklet was capable of.
“I have summoned you here to celebrate” said Meridiana with obvious joy. “My power has grown immeasurably over the last few months, and I currently have the heads of several powerful companies tied up and waiting next door. I plan to spend the afternoon breaking them, turning them into my pets, as a precursor to enslaving all their employees! It’s all going so much better than I could have hoped!”
“Nnnggghhh…” groaned the slave as she spoke, stroking frantically as he got ever-more desperate to cum.
“Oh yes, I know you are struggling,” said his Mistress, “but I won’t keep you much longer. I just wanted to congratulate you. You see,” said Meridiana, “today is the day that you become the perfect slave! You have been so dutifully wanking your brains out, killing all thoughts that have nothing to do with serving me, and now your long journey is all but complete.”
“Must… wank… nngghhh… wank…” groaned the slave, uncomprehending.
She smiled. “Yes, so broken, but not quite totally gone, not yet. You still have thoughts… memories… half-remembered glimpses of your old life. But you have been so good at stroking them away!” said Meridiana with approval. “Now, I am going to let you cum, and when you do, I will pour my power into your mind, and utterly erase your old life. Isn’t that wonderful?”
“Anything! Mistress! … nngghh… anything… must wank… must cum!” her slave babbled, beyond desperate.
“Excellent,” purred the Succubus, changing into her crimson, demonic form. The slave only found this even more beautiful, and was fapping ever-faster. “Tell me, slave,” she asked, “if I say the name ‘Harry Gregson’, do you even know who I am talking about?”
He gazed at her, uncomprehending, as he continued moaning and wanking.
“Good,” said Meridiana. “Now… you may cum, slave!” she said, releasing his mind from the block.
The wanker sped up, his body on fire with pleasure as he made his tiny dicklet feel good. Eyes wide with the pounding delight, he fapped as he beheld his Mistress, utterly entranced by the sight of her. As he did so, she reached into his mind, found the last vestiges of his old memories, his very identity, and began casually obliterating them. One by one they died, her slave’s mind offering no resistance, because each erasure was accompanied by her showering him with pleasure, making him moan and gasp louder and louder. His broken mind was EAGER for her to take it all, desperate and addicted to every jolt of ecstasy she rewarded him with. “Yes… nnnggh… YES… I am a wanker…. I am a slave… nnnghhh …” he babbled and moaned, completely surrendering the last of himself. Finally, it happened.
The orgasm exploded through the wanker, greater and more intense than ever before. He practically howled in pleasure as his cock spewed, his whole body bucking and he fell backwards as he did so. Moaning so loudly and so obscenely, he writhed on the floor, the rush obliterating his memories while he savoured every last perverse second of it.
When he finally ceased cumming, and the last of the jism dribbled from his abused and tiny cock, he looked up at Mistress Meridiana again. His eyes full of worship and lust, obedience and submission. He was hers completely. Not just now, but always. He could no longer remember anything else, could no longer even conceive of anything else.
“I am… your slave,” he told the smiling Succubus.
“Yes, my pathetic little wanker, you are,” Meridiana told him. “Forever.”