As I lay on the couch, I take a moment to think. It feels as if I haven’t had a minute to myself in the last 24 hours. I’m an introvert by nature; I can deal with people, give presentations, be social and normal, but I need time to sort out my inner thoughts. If I don’t have this precious time I start making rash decisions and bumbling my way through life without thought for consequences.
I stare at the ceiling for about 5 minutes after Cindi walks out. I concentrate on my breathing. I will my mind to be blank, even though a million thoughts streak like fire across my brain. I take a deep breath, hold it, and release it slowly. My heart rate decreases and I can feel my head clearing slowly, as if a fog is being slowly lifted.
I think back on the last day. I feel like it hasn’t been me in charge, rather a teenage version of me, hormones all out of control, libido turned up to 11. I breathe in. I’m not a sex-crazed maniac. I don’t think of women as objects for my own lust. Breathe out slowly. I am a rational, thinking, human being.
This situation began with an archeological find. Part of the writing made it clear that there two components to this formula. A man and a woman. This was important, it makes the woman fall in love, but not the man. It shouldn’t matter who the mixture was applied to first, as a mixture is just a mixture, right? Well, not always, I corrected myself. Perhaps human skin is a catalyst that converts this mixture into something different once exposed to living skin. Living skin? What makes me think that? A million caveats swim through my head. Why do I think it only works from men to women? Can it be applied to inanimate objects? Does it affect brain chemistry? Why does it affect memory?
Breathe in, hold it, breathe out. I don’t know enough. There has been no testing, no experiments, not a single shred of facts have been collected. All I have is a substance that makes women believe that they’ve been in love with me since they’ve met me, and that this is transferred via skin contact. Nothing more, nothing less.
How can I rationalize testing this? I mean, I’m talking about people’s minds. Fundamentally altering the self. Are they people anymore? If I create a new reality for them, are they really who they were anymore? The philosophical ramifications are staggering. I’m not talking about slavery; That is making people do something against their will. This is far deeper. I change their very core, their very being and mold their reality into something different. I am literally taking away their humanity. This isn’t rape, this is closer to murder: murder of the self. I am taking away who these human beings are, who they might become. I am erasing them from existence and replacing them with something different. I am a murderer.
Another thought assailed me that overpowered everything else in my head. How would I know if the mixture had changed me? Here I have a miraculous ointment that is able to completely rewrite a woman’s mind, making them fall in absolute love with me, to the point where that they are convinced this is their reality. If it can do such a thing, could it be doing the same thing to me? Had it already done it? How would I be able to tell what was real and what was fake memories implanted by the popeneyen? In fact, it might be that I’ve never actually cared about women’s feeling, perhaps that I’ve always treated them as objects, but the popeneyen now made me believe that I should care about them.
Fear grips my heart. There is nothing I can believe in now. Every belief I have could have been altered by this damn ointment. Nothing that I think or feel might be real. It could all be the popeneyeninvading my memories and making me believe whatever the hell it wanted. Or perhaps it takes time for the mixture to affect me. I noticed that when I was around Ming or Cindi the last few times I was more confident and thought of them as sex toys rather than people. Could this be the popeneyen taking effect? Maybe it only happened when I was with the women I had converted. Maybe it was something that is built up, as in the more I used it the more I would slip down into depravity. It could be the beginning of a chain reaction that I am unable to stop anymore, an addiction that, once started, would simply cascade into more and more debauchery until I am completely consumed.
I don’t know if I’m me anymore. I don’t know what “me” is anymore. And if I’m not me, did I kill myself as well? By using the popeneyen did I cease to exists, replaced by something like me, walking and talking like me but only concerned about enslaving more women and becoming...whatever it is that the popeneyen wants me to become. Is it too late? Am I already dead and I don’t know it? Or is there still time?
The only thing that I can think of is that the answer might lie in the archeological writings that I found. I must unveil more of the data, no matter what. I must keep it secret, since this is a power enough to completely destroy humanity. If released it could change humankind to shadow of itself, only concerned about making more slaves and become themselves addicted to the slaves it creates. A shiver runs through me. I must also stop taking advantage of these women, these slaves I’ve created. I’ve murdered them already, there is no need to continue. I resolve myself to fight my urges and find out if I can set them free.
My resolution is interrupted by my doorbell ringing. I snap my eyes open, not realizing that I had them closed this whole time. My meditations seem like a dream—or perhaps a nightmare?—I scramble up and off the couch, still in my underwear and I stumble to the door. I take a deep breath and ready myself to let Ming down gently. I open the door—
All thought goes out of my head. Standing in front of me is Ming, dressed in a what could pass for a Japanese school girl costume. Or it would be, if schoolgirls wore their shirt cut off right below the nipples, so their underboob could be seen. Her skirt is also short beyond belief, barely covering her cunt in the front and only coming down to half way down her ass. She is wearing what looks to be 5-inch heels. Her hair is done in two pigtails, and she is wearing far too much make up, complete with hoop earrings, making her look like a cheap whore. She has a Hello Kitty backpack that looks to be full and a lollipop in her mouth. I am left speechless by this vision of pure sex. Ming is clearly dressed for fucking. My cock gets immediately hard and I’m sure my eyes are bulging out.
Ming looks pleased by my reaction. She slowly removes the lollipop from her mouth, making a loud pop, and speaks to me, in a little girl’s voice “Hi Daddy! Do I come in? Or do you want to fuck me outside?”
I honestly can’t tell if she’s serious or not. Panicked I stand to one side and stutter, “C-come in.” My mind has not yet processed this information when something inside me clicks. I relax, I know I’m going to fuck her. I know she’s mine to do as I please. I’m the one in control, not her. Her costume is just a way to entice me, but my body rebels against it, projecting confidence and shifting to a commanding stance. All thoughts of murder and rational thought go out the window. I simply know what I want and that I can and will take what I want. Ming calmly sashays past me and I give her a loud smack on her ass as she walks by, eliciting a giggle from her.
I close the door behind me and ask Ming, “Did you bring what I told you, slut?”
She flashes me a smile, then casts her eyes down, demurely, “Of course Daddy. I’m a good, obedient slut.”
I sit on the couch, “Then show me, “ I say, motioning for her to begin. Ming takes off her backpack and goes to sit on the couch next to me when I interrupt her, “Stop! Sluts don’t use furniture. The floor is good enough for you”
Ming blushes, although I’m not sure if it is from embarrassment or anger. Instead, she kneels demurely on the floor, places her Hello Kitty backpack in front of her and opens it. She begins to remove the contents, as if in a hurry to show me, but, once again, I interrupt her. “Hold on! I want a nice description. Take each item out separately, tell me what it’s for and how I will be using it on you.”
She blushes again, this time I’m pretty sure in the humiliating anticipation of what she has in her bag and what she will be forced to tell me. Nevertheless, she takes a hold of herself and takes out a riding crop first. “This is a riding crop,” she begins, blushing even more intensely, “I guess you can use this for...spanking me?” She says, unsure.
“Oh really?” I reply, amused. “And where would I be using this on you? Your ass? Your tits? Your pussy?”
She refuses to meet my gaze and mumbles “Anywhere you want, I guess”
“I see. Bring it over then,” I tell her. I lean back on the couch and put out my hand close to me. She sighs, gets up from the floor and hands it me, handle first. I’ve never actually used one of these before, but I figure it shouldn’t be too hard, so I grip it firmly and swat at her left tit, hard.
The crop leaves a red mark and what looks like a welt where I hit her. She clutches at her breast and lets out a howl of pure agony, “AHHH! OH SHIT! OH SHIT! OH SHIT!” Tears swell up as she bends over in pain.
I bolt up out of the couch put my arm around her in a panic, “Shit! Are you ok?” I had no idea it would be this bad, having never used any kind of toys, I don’t actually realize what kind of damage I can do. Good thing I didn’t use this on her clit, I think to myself.
Still sobbing but getting a hold of herself, she tells me, “Yes. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to cry out. I’ll be better next time. Please don’t worry about me. I’m a good slut!” she says, tears dripping down her face.
“We’ll come back to this,” I say putting the crop aside. “Get a hold of yourself and keep going.” I realize that, probably for the first time in my life, I don’t actually apologize to her, I just stop enough to make sure she’s not permanently damaged and continue.
Ming takes a couple of deep breaths, bringing her outburst under control. She sits on the floor this time, reaches into her backpack, takes another deep breath and removes a set of nipple clamps, linked together by a silver chain. I motion for her to tell me what they’re for. “These are nipple clamps. They’re for...punishing my nipples. The guy at the store said to make sure you adjust them so they’re not too painful” she looks accusingly at me, emphasizing the last part so I don’t repeat my last mistake.
I smile wickedly, “Well, I think you can take some pain. Open them and bring them here.”
Her face contorts in fear, but she opens the package obediently and gets up to hand them to me. I take the clamps and examine them. Like the crop, I’ve never actually used these before. The mechanism is simple though; The camps are simple alligator clips, but there is also a small screw that regulates how far the clamps will close. The further the screw is screwed in, the more space between the tips of the clamps, and the less pressure on the nipples. It doesn’t look like these would hurt that much, but just in case I give the screws about 2 full turns on each clamp.
“Kneel between my legs,” I tell Ming. Nervously, she kneels. “Hands behind your back,” she complies, tears starting to form in her eyes. I grab her left nipple and flick it with my thumb, getting it hard and erect.
“This is probably going to a hurt a lot. You are not to scream, you are not to take them off, got that slut?” She nods in resignation of what is to come, so I slap her lightly on the cheek, “I think what you meant to say is ‘Yes Daddy’”
It seems that my slap, light as it was, takes her by surprise, as two tears fall down her cheek she sobs, “Yes, Daddy”.
Without any warning I snap the clamp onto the right nipple suddenly. Her face contorts in pain. I can tell she wants to scream, but she bites her lower lip and forces her mouth shut. She lets out a slight, closed mouth whimper and closes her eyes tight. “Breathe,” I tell her, and she takes in short, shallow breaths, “Slow, deep breaths.” She slows down, and forces herself to take slower, deeper breaths, so I quickly put the other clamp on the left nipple.
Unprepared for the pain, she lets out a short scream before covering her mouth with her hands. Tears are openly streaming down her tightly shut eyes. I’m not sure if the old me would have been bothered by this, but the new me is incredibly turned on by this blatant sadism. I grab the chain connecting the clamps and savagely pull on it upwards, forcing her tits to stretch obscenely and renewing her screams of pain. “Remember,” I whisper softly, “this is how Daddy likes you,” and I give her nipple chain one last tug to giver her more pain.
Content with myself, I motion her to proceed. But instead of having her move to her backpack, I grab the backpack and place it on her side, so she can still be between my knees and I can still play with her nippple clamps, which is giving me more pleasure than I thought. She reaches in her backpack, tears still rolling down her cheeks and she takes out a smaller bag, containing a set of two wrist cuffs and two ankle cuffs with metal d-rings to attach rope to, a single large piece of black rope and a couple of locks with tiny keys.
Still sobbing, she tell me “Th-this is for you t-to tie me up w-with.”
“Very pretty. Put them on.”
She tries to lean back to find a better position to put the wrist cuffs, but I’m holding tight to the chain, which stretches her nipple and elicits a short cry of pain from her if she moves too far from me and a smile for me at seeing her cute, asian face contort in pain. Seeing that I’m not letting go of her nipples, she maneuvers as best she can to put the wrists cuff on, her tits pulling in different and obscene directions. After a few minutes of contorting, she manages to strap them in place. When she reaches for the ankle cuffs, clearly worried about how to put them on, I stop her, “Don’t worry about those, what else did you bring?”
She is clearly relieved, and she reaches into her back and pulls out a green 7-inch vibrator. Bigger than my own dick and kind of boring, but I think she’s relieved that there will be no pain involved with this. “This is a vibrator. For you to play with my pusy, maybe?” She tells me, hopeful.
I smile, “Maybe. What else you got?”
“This is the last thing,” she says nervously. She takes a deep breath and pulls out a medium size butplug and a small vial of lube. “This is for training...my ass.”
“Not bad. By why so small?” Fear is now clearly registering on her face. She stutters, trying to force a sentence out but I hold up my hand shutting her up. “No matter, but before we put that in, I should pump some cum in your ass, so we can use the plug to keep it in. Tell me, Ming, have you ever had a cock up your ass?”
“N-no” she says sobbing again.
“Well, then, this is going to be a great learning experience. For me at least.” I say with an evil grin, “Stand up, hands behind your back.”
She is sobbing now, in anticipation of what’s to come. The amazing part is that I don’t even care. I’m enjoying her tears, her humiliation. But I want more. I tell her, “You know I don’t want to make you do anything you don’t want. Let me know that you’re not into this and we can go our separate ways, I only want women who would love me enough to do this willingly…”
It is as if a switched flipped inside her. “I DO love you,” she says with conviction. “I will do anything to prove it.”
Without any trace of fear she turns her back to me, bends over the back of my couch, drops her panties, and spreads her ass cheeks open with her hands. “Fuck my ass!” she implores me, “My ass belongs to you. Fuck my ass, Daddy. Make me your asian fuck toy!”
I pick up the lube from the ground and squirt it into my hands. I rub my hard cock to lather it up and ram it into her open ass. She screams as my cockhead rips her virgin ass open, but I’m too horny to care. I take a fistful of her long, black hair and wrap it once around my hand to get a good grip on it. I pull my cock out of her ass almost to my cockhead then I pull hard on her hair, forcing her ass back into my cock. My thighs make a loud slapping sound against her ass cheeks and Ming lets out another screaming grunt from the pain.
I continue this rough fucking, pulling out of her ass and then pulling her hair back to pound my cock back in. It feels much different than pussy fucking, I reflect. With pussy, the muscles are softly, wetly massaging your cock throughout the shaft and tip while I’m inside her. With ass fucking, the muscles are mostly in the sphincter. They’re much tighter and drier than pussies, so it’s a good thing that I’m using lube, but the pleasure happens as the sphincter tightens up the length of my cock as I’m pounding in and out her asshole. Of course, the humiliation of fucking her ass, knowing that the pleasure is all mine, and all she experiences is pain is its own aphrodisiac.
Her sphincter tightening up as I pound her feels heavenly. I slow down my pace to feel every contraction of her ass massaging my dick. Ming is not screaming as much, mostly numb to my pounding. Part of her seems to be enjoying the pain, or perhaps she enjoys the moans her ass is making me produce.
I find myself yelling obscenities at her, “Yea, take it you fucking slut! I love fucking your asshole, cunt! Your asshole feels so tight around my cock! This is the only hole worth fucking in your slutty asian body! You want to be my ass slave, don’t you chink! That’s all I need you for any ways, AN. ASS. HOLE. TO. FUCK!” As I scream the last few words I pull my dick almost all the way out and ram it back in as hard as I can, like a maniac in heat. I felt my orgasm rising through and my cum spurt out into her asshole violently. I kept spurting out cum until I collapse from exhaustion on top of her back.
As I’m panting on top of Ming I can hear her soft whimpering. Tears are streaming down her face from the pain of the brutal fucking. She is holding the worse of the pain in, only letting out small whimpers as her asshole quivers around my spent cock. I find that I don’t really care about her feelings, though. She’s my fuck toy, nothing more. I push myself up using her back and pull out my cock out of her asshole in one, rough pull. My cock is slimy for a combination of semen, lube and shit, so I slap Ming on ther rump and tell her, “Now clean my cock, fuckmeat!”
There is no fight left in her. She knows what I want from her and she is powerless to say no. Or perhaps she does not truly want to say no, I don’t really know. All I really know is she drops to her knees and she takes my slimy, filthy cock into her mouth without hesitation, all the while staring up adoringly at me and proceeds to lick and slurp my dick clean. After she is done, she kisses the tip and asks, “What else can I do for you Daddy?”