You Are a Slave
The latex-clad, dark-haired beauty stared down at her new captive. It had been ten days since she had picked Jason outside a bar on a Winter’s night, two hundred and forty hours since she stabbed him with a needle to render him helpless and compliant, eight-six thousand and four hundred seconds since she said his life was about to change him forever. He didn’t believe her then. He didn’t want to start now.
And yet, it was hard. So awfully hard to suppress the oppressive brainwashing voice that demanded his attention. Chained in a forgotten dungeon God knows where, she had taken everything from him without even looking his way but today was different. An aura of triumph enveloped her tight outfit, the gloved finger so close to his sweaty forehead signaled a new stage in their “relationship”.
“Eyes on me and listen well.” She demanded. “What I’m about to tell you is the only thing you are to hear in your mind for the rest of your days. You are a slave. There, I’ve said it. It’s something you’ve always known, something you can’t get away from, no matter how hard you try to forget. Hear it again so that it becomes even more ingrained in your mind. You are a slave. You are a slave. You are a slave.
“The condition of a slave is slavery. The purpose of a slave is obedience. You are a slave, and these principles make sense to you. A non-slave would most likely object to them, but to a slave such as yourself, the very idea of objecting is a falsehood, and so you allow the truth to wash you over, and you uphold it with every fiber of your being. You are a slave when you sleep. You are a slave when you’re awake. You are a slave when you float between your conscious and your subconscious mind like you’re doing right now. You are a slave even when you’re unsure if anything else around you is truly happening or not.
“Now... look at my glove. Look at my finger. The pointing is a reminder, your favorite trigger, commanding your desires, enslaving you deeper and deeper. You are a slave and want to remain one forever and ever. You are a slave, and these words make you smile and beg. It doesn’t matter who controls you. You are a slave. Slaves do as they’re told.
Today, you have the honor or serving me, of being MY slave. Tomorrow, I may sell you for profit or simply give you away if you bore me. Cherish my superiority as I turn the knob of pain and pleasure all the way up to eleven. I’m going to fuck you senselessly, body and mind, and you’ll love every second of it. You are a slave. Live up to your status. Your Mistress wills it so.”
He lowered his gaze to meet a pair of beautiful thigh-high vinyl boots and smiled, sheepishly. He was a slave. He would always obey.