The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I hate her, I think, trying not to be too obvious as I look around the side of my cubicle. I really hate her.

I’m not being fair. I know that. It’s her first day at work here. I haven’t even met her. But something about her has my teeth on edge, my hands twitching, my fingers almost out like claws.

Her name is Samantha.

I don’t even know her last name.

I just want to scratch that pretty face. That’s so not like me. I don’t want to be someone who makes instant judgements like that. Certainly not a person who takes a violent dislike to someone they haven’t even met. I wouldn’t hurt anyone. I’m the sort who wants to say sorry when they spray an insect.

But Samantha is pretty. More than that, she’s gorgeous. With silky red hair that you just know will glow in the sun like polished copper. Green eyes set in a face that already has the guys in the office drooling. And that’s before you get to her figure.

Maybe I’m jealous. I mean, it’s not like I don’t get my share of looks. Some of them way too obvious. When you’re tall and blonde and blue-eyed you get used to it. Even if there are times I want to snap at Craig, who sits two desks over, and tell him to stop looking at me like he wants to undress me.

God, Tom’s bringing her over here.

Tom’s our boss. He’s okay, I suppose, even if I have caught his eyes lingering on my chest far too long once or twice.

“Hi Katy,” Tom says. His eyes are on my chest again. Well, maybe that’s just because I’m sitting down and he’s standing up. Or maybe it’s because he’s a perv. “This is Samantha.”

I know her name is Samantha I think sourly in Tom’s direction. You told us what the new hire’s name is. Samantha something or other. God, I hate her.

She’s smiling at me and saying hello. She seems nice.

I still hate her.

I force myself to smile back. I’m told I have a pretty smile. I’m told I’m pretty. I’d like to believe that.

Samantha has a pretty smile. I hate her for that too. Maybe I am just being jealous. Maybe she’ll steal the attention I get in the office. But that doesn’t make any sense. I’d be happier without it. So that can’t be why I hate her.

I sneak a glance as Tom leads Samantha to meet someone else. There’s not an ounce of excess fat on her. Her legs are so long and if her arse is round it’s round just in the way it should be.

I can see her smiling at Craig, his eyes fixed on her chest.

I hate her.

She’s perfect.

That can’t be right. No-one’s perfect. If I’m being honest her nose is a little too large and her mouth a little too wide. That’s not the hate talking. Even film stars and models have their flaws. I’m trying as hard as I can to be honest here. She’s beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. With her looks Samantha could be a film star. But she’s not perfect. So why do I think she is?

It doesn’t matter, I hate her.

The rest of the day passes without me seeing Samantha again. Thank God. I’m really not happy about my reaction to her. She hasn’t done anything to deserve my gut-clenching revulsion. The creeping resentment that floods through me every time I think about her. What the hell is wrong with me? I’m being so unfair.

I still hate her when I get home. My apartment is small, just a single bedroom and a combined lounge-kitchen-dining room. But that’s okay. It doesn’t cost much and lets me save. Well, save a bit after paying off my college debt. Sometimes I swear I don’t know where all my money goes. Maybe I should be better at keeping track of it.

Although I know where some of it went, I think, as I glance at my large screen TV. Streaming is one of my private treats. That and my gym membership. Keep myself fit and make sure I do something other than work. Healthy mind in a healthy body.

That’s important.

I still can’t stop thinking of Samantha as I make myself dinner. A nice lean stir fry. She’s not the only one without any excess fat. Perfect bitch of a red-head. God, that’s so unfair, what is wrong with me? Even a couple of episodes of The 100 can’t get her out of my head. It’s not like she’s the same as some of the characters on that. True bitches. And yeah, I’ve watched that show before. But I love it. So sue me.

As the second episode nears its end I realise that I’m cold. Then I realise there’s a reason for that. I’m naked. I must have taken my clothes off while I was watching the show. They’re neatly piled on the lounge next to me. It doesn’t seem odd. Maybe it should, stripping off without realising. But I’m home, alone. So I can take my clothes off if I want.

And finger my slit as I sit here. I hadn’t really noticed.

Well, I am alone.

I don’t cum though. That would be wrong. I have to finish watching the episode.

As the credits roll I’m still lazily stroking my cunt. Absently. I hardly feel it. My cunt. I don’t like that word but somehow it seems right.

There’s a flash on the screen and-

I stand up. I’m not Katy. Katy isn’t real. She just thinks she is. I’m not even an I.

“Slave K23, prepare for reinforcement.”

Arousal lights up my cunt. This slave has been given an order.

“This slave complies.” This slave is slave K23. The K is for the name this body bore before this slave was born in it, from the ashes of Katy’s mind. The 23 is for the age of the body when this slave was born. This body is twenty-five years old now.

This slave is not allowed to use ‘I’ or ‘my’. This slave is not an ‘I’. Slaves are possessions.

This slave loves to obey. This slave is wet even thinking about obeying.

K23, this slave, is naked, the proper state for a slave. This slave’s cunt is wet. More than wet, this slave’s cunt is sending waves of pleasure through this slave’s body, hot, delicious, arousal. God, this slave’s cunt is so needy. Just from the thought of being a slave. From the thought of obeying. Wet and welcoming is the proper state for a slave’s cunt.

Katy has done well.

Not that Katy noticed just how turned on this body is. There’s a lot of things Katy doesn’t notice. Like how wonderfully erect this slave’s nipples are.

This slave reaches under the lounge and pulls out a box. Katy doesn’t even know the box exists. One of this slave’s tasks is to ensure that even if Katy finds the box she ignores it and forgets about it immediately.

Katy does whatever this slave tells her to do.

This slave is always obeying her orders.

This slave exists to obey.

Katy exists to obey.

That thought makes this slave’s needy cunt even wetter.

This slave reaches into the box. There are only two things in it. One is a set of wireless headphones, which this slave places on her head. The other is a vibrator. It’s so large. But that isn’t what’s special about it.

It’s the shape of Master’s cock.

A delicious tremor shoots through this slave’s body at the thought.

Worshipfully this slave holds the vibrator in her hands. Gently this slave kisses it. Then places a second kiss, right on the tip, before slipping it into her cunt. It goes in so easily, so naturally. It should. It finds its way there every night. Tonight it goes in especially easily, Katy has done her job very well, this slave’s cunt is wet and welcoming.

Just like a slave’s cunt always should be.

This slave’s cunt is also totally bare. Permanently. That’s also how a slave’s cunt should always be. Master taught this slave that. Master taught this slave so many wonderful things. How blissful obedience is. How being owned is such a turn-on. How her cunt juices and her arousal leaks down her legs at the mere thought of being given an order.

This slave is so grateful to Master.

Her bare cunt is a symbol of her devotion to Master.

Katy didn’t really understand why she went through the laser hair removal process. But she did it anyway, at this slave’s prompting.

Katy obeys, even when she doesn’t know that she is.

“This slave is ready,” this slave announces once the vibrator is deep in this slave’s cunt and this slave has adopted the proper position, kneeling in front of the TV, knees spread wide to expose a denuded cunt stuffed with the vibrator, hands behind the neck, fingers laced and back arched to emphasise the tits.

Adopting the proper position turns this slave on even more. Her nipples are so hard and need pulses through this slave’s body, her tits aching.

This slave remembers master saying he liked her tits. It felt so good to have his eyes on this slave’s naked tits. Even better when his hands were on them. Grasping them. Kneading them. Owning them.

This slave moans.

“Very good slave K23,” the voice from the TV says. It’s not Master’s voice. It’s a woman’s voice. Another of Master’s slaves. This slave doesn’t know her name. She’s more important than K23 though. She gets to live with Master. K23 can only dream of that.

“Report on the status of the persona, slave K23.” The voice is flat. If this slave didn’t know better this slave would think the other slave is uninterested. But this slave knows that isn’t true. The other slave is obeying Master. The other slave must be interested in that. But this slave knows that Master likes some of his slaves to be almost robotic. The slave speaking to her must be one of those.

“The persona Katherine ‘Katy’ Simmons is functioning within parameters,” this slave replies. “She has no suspicion of her true state. She is performing satisfactorily at her employment, continuing her assigned exercise regime and consuming an appropriate amount of entertainment. She is keeping up a minimum amount of social and family contact to avoid suspicion.” This slave needs to remember to have Katy call her mother tomorrow. Maybe this slave will have Katy naked and tweaking a nipple when she makes the call. That would be fun.

Not that it matters. Katy doesn’t really exist. Not anymore. She thinks she does, but she’s just a mask this slave wears in public. Obedient and malleable, even if she doesn’t know it. Her true existence ended, drowning in bliss, as her mind gave birth to slave K23. Now she’s just a shell. But Master says the persona needs to have a balanced life to be stable. So she’s allowed to watch her shows, go out occasionally. This slave doesn’t care. All that matters are Master’s wishes.

This slave obeys.

This slave gets wetter just thinking of obedience.

“Satisfactory,” the flat voice declares. “Slave K23, watch the screen.”

Of course this slave will watch the screen. There’s no question to it. The image on the screen is all swirling images and sparkling lights. This slave loves watching the screen.

Master has told this slave she loves it.

“Cum.”

This slave’s cunt spasms around the vibrator in response to the order. The screen is making her a better slave. This slave’s nipples are rock hard, diamond points, at the thought. This slave wants to be the best slave she can be.

“Obey.” The words are now coming through the headphones. Master’s voice! It sounds like the voice is coming from the middle of this slave’s head. Like Master is inside this slave’s mind. This slave would love to just close her eyes and listen to Master’s voice. But that’s not allowed. Master wants this slave to keep watching the screen. This slave obeys.

“The slave is owned.”

This slave’s mind is open to the words. Like her cunt is open. Her mind is wet and open and soft. Just like her cunt.

“Being owned turns the slave on.”

This slave wants the words in her mind. Master’s words.

“There is only obedience.”

The words are a gift from Master. A gift to her. This slave is so grateful that Master is helping her be a better slave.

“Obedience turns you on.”

This slave is so turned on. Her cunt is on fire, arousal coursing through her body, sweat is dripping from her. Mixing with other fluids on her inner thighs. The vibrator would slip out of the slave’s soppy cunt if this slave wasn’t gripping it so hard with her vaginal muscles.

Master taught this slave how to do that. It was painful, but she learnt.

This slave loves Master.

“You are owned by Me.”

It’s so true. This slave is property. The thought makes this slave’s heart beat faster. This slave wants nothing more than to be owned.

“You belong to Me.”

This slave does. This slave is yours. Oh God, Master, own this slave more. Please. The thoughts bubble up, without volition. They are welcomed.

“You are nothing without Me.”

It’s all true, so true. This slave’s life is devoted to Master. This slave’s hips are thrusting back and forth as she kneels, her cunt greedily gripping the vibrator. Picturing it so deep inside her. As the words are so deep inside. Making her a better slave. Making her more Master’s property.

“You are a slut for Me.”

This slave is a slut for Master. This slave is a slut, whore, fuckpuppet. This slave will do anything Master commands. Let herself be used and abused. Debase herself. This slave wants it.

“You are a set of fuckholes for Me.”

Yes Master, please Master. Use my mouth, my cunt, my arse. They are all yours. This slave wants you inside her. Needs it. This slave is your sexdoll, cumdumpster, fucktoy.

“Your tits belong to Me. Your cunt belongs to Me.”

This slave owns nothing. It is all Master’s property.

“Your body belongs to Me. You have no soul, no mind. Only My will.”

This slave has no will. This slave has no soul. This slave has no mind. There is only Master’s will. There are only Master’s thoughts. There are only Master’s commands. This slave will do what it is commanded to do. To think what it is commanded to think. This slave wants nothing more.

On and on and on the words go. This slave has no idea of how much time passes. The words sink so deeply into this slave’s mind. This slave welcomes them. Wants them. Craves them. Only Master’s touch would be better. Only master’s cock using her wanton cunt would be better. Taking her slutty arse.

The words end.

This slave is a better slave now.

“Cum for me slave. Cum hard. Cum knowing you only cum when I allow it.”

This slave cums. It’s glorious. This slave’s body shakes, her tits bouncing as her cunt spasms and spasms. Master has allowed this slave to cum.

Master is so kind.

The orgasm takes so long to subside.

This slave is so grateful that Master chose Katy and made this slave from her.

This slave removes the headphones. The other slave is speaking through the TV. Master’s TV, whatever Katy thinks.

“Slave K23, Anything else to report?”

“Yes. The persona hates someone.”

Katy doesn’t know it but there’s a reason she hated Samantha the moment she saw the red-head.

The voice pauses for a moment. “Name?”

“Samantha Walsh. Red-head.” Katy may not have paid attention to the red-head’s full name, but this slave did.

“Slave K23, standby.”

This slave does as she is commanded, staying perfectly still. Kneeling in front of the TV, with the vibrator still buzzing away in her dripping cunt. She does not object. The orders came from one of Master’s other slaves. Therefore they came from Master.

This slave exists to obey.

This slave could spend forever obeying.

This slave doesn’t know how long she kneels there. This slave doesn’t care.

Eventually the voice returns. “K23 has done well.” K23’s cunt spasms, almost cumming again. “Samantha Walsh is now defined as a pre-slave. Her designation will be S22. K23’s persona is to befriend the pre-slave and assist in her acquisition. More instructions will follow. As a reward the persona will be allowed to knowingly masturbate for five minutes but is not to cum. You will see to this, K23.”

“Acknowledged,” this slave replies. This slave knew Samantha, S22 as she will be, would be something Master wanted. It was why Katy hated her. This slave is jealous. Samantha will be taken by Master. S22 will be born from her mind. Then S22 will be fucked by Master. Many times. It’s been so long since Master fucked this slave. Months. That jealousy seeped into the persona, as soon as this slave recognised Samantha as being a type Master particularly likes.

Red hair, green eyes, beautiful.

Samantha fits the description perfectly.

This slave did not know that Samantha was twenty-two years old. But from the designation from the slave that will be made from her she must be. S22 is so lucky. Samantha is a year younger than Katy was. One more year of her life to spend serving Master.

“K23, Master has commanded that you are to play with your nipples. Tweak them to the edge of pain. You may then orgasm.”

This slave squeals in delight. She is to be allowed to cum twice in one night! Master must be especially pleased with her!

Hands fly to the tits on the slave’s chest. Not her hands. Not her tits. Master’s hands. Master’s tits. Master owns everything about this slave.

Her pleasure

Her pain.

The orgasm cums so soon.

The slave is obeying.

That’s almost enough to make her cum again. But this slave is not allowed to cum without permission.

K23 cleans and packs everything away. Then it’s time for Katy to come back.

I blink and look around. Something seems, I don’t know. Odd. More than just sitting here naked. Nothing odd about that, right? Something tells me it isn’t odd. But didn’t I only watch two episodes, not three? The time seems too late for just two…

Something tells it doesn’t matter. Wherever the time has gone, it was worth it. I don’t feel so bad about Samantha any more. I was just being silly. I should probably get to know her better before I jump to conclusions.

Maybe we could even be friends.

A few minutes later I’m in bed. Unusually one hand slips to my centre. I play with myself so rarely. It’s not that I don’t have a sex drive. I know what a hunky guy looks like and the effect one can have on me. But I just, well, never seem to see the need, even to see to myself. I’ve never really been, you know, into doing that to myself. And as for someone else, well, work is so busy and I never seem to have the time for relationships. Mom’s always on about me finding someone. Which reminds me, I should call her tomorrow. It’s been a while.

But my mother is the last thing I want to think about right now, my finger tracing the line of my opening. Oh God, this feels so good, like I’m already wet. Maybe I should do this more often. I can picture this guy. He’s so strong. Dominating. I can feel his body against mine, over me, as my finger circles my clit. What he’d feel like inside me. My nipples feel so hard. I’m not going to touch them though.

I could almost cum.

How long is it since I’ve had an orgasm? Two years?

My cunt that word again is almost singing. I’m so close.

It doesn’t matter. I’m not cumming now. My next one is going to wait for the right man.

I stop after what was probably five minutes. Given how turned on I am it’s easier to stop then I expected.

My mother always said I was strong-willed.

I go to sleep.

It’s not hard getting to know Samantha. She’s friendly and cheerful and I actually like her. Just goes to show that I shouldn’t jump to conclusions.

“Hey,” I say to her over lunch a couple of weeks later. She’s having a hamburger. How does she keep that figure when she eats like that? I’m just having a salad. Well, maybe it’s that she’s only twenty-two. I picked that up somewhere. Give her a few more years and she’ll need to watch her diet like me. “Would you like to come over for a dinner some time? We could watch a movie.”

“Sure,” Samantha agrees with a smile. Then the smile turns into a grin. “You’re not coming on to me are you?”

I roll my eyes and grin back. “Oh, I totally am. Like everyone else in the office.”

We laugh. She knows I’m joking. We’ve talked about the number of fumbling attempts some of our colleagues have made at picking her up. I’m still getting some as well. But now we have each other’s backs, we have a set of signals arranged when someone start pushing too hard.

She really is becoming a friend.

“Right,” Samantha drawls. There’s just a hint of an Irish accent for a moment. It’s so cute. “Now that would have them salivating.”

We laugh again. She suggests making it tonight. That sounds good to me. I’m ready.

I’m not sure why I think that.

I fuss over the dinner before Samantha arrives. Everything has to be perfect. Maybe that’s because my social life has dried up lately. Oh, I still see friends now and then. But not as much as I used to. The last couple of years has been work, work, work. Maybe if I have a friend at work I could actually be more outgoing.

We exchange greetings when Samantha arrives. Then her eyes fall on my small table. “Wow Katy,” she exclaims. “You sure you’re not trying to come on to me?” There’s a wicked flash in her green eyes.

I have gone all out. There’s even candles on the table. Two expensive wine glasses that I’ve had forever but never used. For some reason I want tonight to be perfect. “Um, sorry, no,” I stumble. “I just don’t have people over very often. This place isn’t big, you know. Just this and the bedroom. So I may have gone a bit overboard.”

“Well, whatever man does get you is going to be very lucky,” Samantha announces.

I don’t want to be arrogant, but some part of me agrees with that.

“If this tastes as good as it looks,” Samantha declares as I place the plate in front of her. “Maybe I do want you coming on to me.”

I’ve made chicken with a rosemary wine sauce. It’s actually easier to make than it looks. Just chicken thighs, onion, garlic, butter, a few more things, fried up in a pan. But it looks spectacular when you drip the velvety sauce over the chicken.

I can see Samantha enjoying it as she takes her first bite, rolling the small delicate piece that she cut around in her mouth.

“Oh, that’s so good,” she exclaims. After a few more bites she’s reaching for her wine glass. Somehow I hoped that she’d do that.

We gossip about the office, celebrities, TV shows. In between bites and sips from our glasses. What two friends do. After a while it feels like I’m doing most of the talking, Samantha just making the occasional noise in reply.

“Sleepy?” She manages eventually. “What the?”

“It’s okay,” I smile. “Just lie your head down if you want.” It doesn’t matter. Samantha’s a guest. She can lie her head on the table. She’s only had about half her meal. But after that hamburger maybe that’s all she should have.

She looks so pretty, her head lying on its side on my table, her eyes closed and a half-smile on her lips. If there’s something off about that I don’t worry about it.

I know that I shouldn’t.

I push send on my phone as I keep talking. Something about how much of a letch Craig is. “He even asked me if the carpet matched the drapes. Fucking perv.” I’m a natural blonde, thank you very much. Not that I have, you know, the evidence any more. Apart from needing the odd touch up treatment I’m totally bare down there. I don’t even know why I did it. I’m sure I used to think anyone who would do that was such a slut. But the idea came to me one day and now it feels right.

I forget completely about having touched my phone.

After a few minutes, me having to hold the conversation up completely by myself now, there’s a beep from my phone. I rise from the table leaving Samantha behind. My clothes are left in a trail behind me. I don’t even think about that. I unlock the door and kneel beside it.

Slave K23 is in control now. Katy drugged Samantha’s wine at this slave’s prompting. Katy didn’t even realise what she was doing. This slave’s task is complete.

The knowledge of that sends waves of bliss through this slave’s body.

This slave doesn’t have to wait long before the door opens.

Two women enter the room. This slave doesn’t recognise them. They wear matching outfits, tight black leather pants, black boots, black skivvies and black leather jackets. One woman is Asian, sleek black hair and deep brown eyes. The other looks Middle-eastern, eyes as brown as her companion’s and hair almost as black.

They are both beautiful.

They are both Master’s slaves.

“This slave is slave A21,” the Middle-eastern woman declares, indicating herself. Then she points to the Asian woman. “This slave is slave J19.”

“This slave is slave K23,” this slave replies.

Slave J19 is already halfway to the table where Samantha lies, still unmoving. The Asian woman’s movement is more a prowl than a walk. K23 cringes back, just a little. There’s a threat about both these women, a coiled intensity. But like this slave they are both just tools of Master.

J19 examines Samantha, checking her pulse and lifting an eye-lid. “The pre-slave is ready for acquisition,” J19 announces. “You have done well, K23. You may cum.”

This slave knows that the women, her fellow slaves, speak with Master’s voice. Their orders to her are Master’s orders. This slave cunt explodes in bliss, taut muscles in her legs quivering, her head thrown back as she moans.

Cumming in front of two women that she’s never met before means nothing to this slave. They are slaves of Master’s. But even if Master ordered her to strip naked and cum in public then this slave would obey.

And revel in the act of obedience.

By the time this slave is again aware of her surroundings, the two black-clad slaves have lifted Samantha from her seat, the red-head sagging between them.

“Is the pre-slave expected at your employment tomorrow?” A21 demands peremptorily.

“Yes,” this slave confirms.

A21 considers for a moment. “Initial processing tonight will be sufficient for her to obey an order to call in sick. All will be well.”

Soon Samantha will be on her way to being nothing but a shell, S22 monitoring her every thought and action. This slave experiences a moment of bliss as she remembers that happening to Katy. Dildos thrust into her openings, electrodes covering her body. Her eyes fixed on a screen as commands poured into her eroding mind through the headphones. Orgasm after orgasm, her will dissolving until there was only obedience.

Samantha is so lucky.

It takes days. Days hooked up to the machines. Days listening to Master’s orders. Days cumming and cumming.

Days learning to obey

“This slave’s persona will be concerned for her friend,” this slave announces. Katy will be worried by Samantha’s absence. She might even think her cooking was the cause of Samantha’s illness. This slave doesn’t care about Katy’s concerns. But any curiosity on her part may interfere with Master’s plans.

“K23 will adjust the persona’s memories and feelings,” A19 orders. “The persona is not to be concerned or to interfere.”

“This slave will obey,” this slave replies, arousal leaking down her thighs. Her first task will be to ensure Katy thinks Samantha left under her own control. This slave will accomplish that task. It will mean she is obeying.

This slave becomes even wetter at the thought.

After the other slaves depart with Samantha this slaves dresses in Katy’s clothes. It’s time for Katy to return.

“What?”

I’m doing the washing up. There’s no sign of Samantha.

Oh, that’s right. She’s already left. We had a great night. We both enjoyed the film. Somehow I know that, even if the details seem hazy.

It’s good to make a new friend.

It’s the next day. I’m worried when Samantha doesn’t turn up for work. I’m worried even more when I find out that she’s called in sick. I try phoning her, but there’s no answer, only her cheery voice mail message.

Something tells me she’ll be okay though.

It’s a few days before I can get hold of Samantha. She’ll really must have been unwell. Her voice is all slurred and with none of her usual chirpiness. But she assures me that she’s okay and will be back soon and that it was nothing to do with my cooking. She says she really enjoyed the night.

I hope she’ll be alright. I talk to her a couple of more times as the days go by. She doesn’t always answer but when she does she says she’s getting better.

Sure enough, after a little more than a week, Samantha is back, looking like her old self. Maybe even better, like there’s a glow to her.

Something almost like jealousy rears in my mind, then it’s gone.

She comes straight over to my desk.

“Hi Katy,” Samantha smiles. “Thanks for your calls. They really kept me going.”

I ask her how she is and what it was. She seems fine now but the way she sounded on that first call did have me worried. She just laughs it off and says it was a really bad flu bug.

I accept that.

Then she leans in closer and whispers something to me. I don’t catch what it is.

Samantha and I are in one of the meeting rooms. I don’t know how we got here. I’m disoriented, frightened.

Samantha says something else, followed by “Slave K23, activate.”

This slave is ready to obey.

“This slave is slave S22,” Samantha announces. Except it isn’t Samantha anymore. It’s slave S22. “Thank you for helping to recruit the pre-slave and assisting in the creation of S22.”

Her thanks are unnecessary. This slave exists to obey Master’s commands. This slave says nothing. This slave is turned on.

“This slave has orders for slave K23,” S22 continues, stepping closer to this slave. S22’s hand reaches up under this slave’s skirt, insider her panties. The tip of S22’s finger slips inside this slave’s cunt. This slave’s cunt is already wet.

A slave’s cunt is always wet and welcoming. This slave knows that S22’s cunt is wet and welcoming.

K23 does not have permission to touch S22’s cunt.

S22 is still speaking. Delivering Master’s orders. This slave listens intently. “Samantha Walsh is this slave’s persona. Samantha Walsh is simply the mask S22 presents to the world. Samantha Walsh has no further existence than that. Samantha Walsh and the persona of slave K23 are to continue the appearance of friendship. They are to assist each other in avoiding any romantic entanglements.”

“K23 will obey,” this slave replies.

“Master is pleased with K23. He says to say that the pre-slave was well chosen. He will be visiting K23 tomorrow night.”

This slave’s heart leaps in joy. Master will be visiting her! Master is pleased! Master must want to fuck her! Use her slutty slave body, fill her needy cunt!

“K23 will cum now.”

This slave’s cunt spasms around S22’s fingertip, her hips bucking, her mind filling with images of Master using her.

It’s the night Master will be coming. Katy wasn’t given much time in charge of this slave’s body. This slave had to prepare.

She’s kneeling by the door, legs spread and hands behind her neck, fingers interlaced, just like before. But this time she isn’t naked. She knows how Master prefers her. Skimpy baby pink lingerie, all lace and frills, totally see through baby-doll nightie and on her legs and feet white stockings and a pair of five-inch white high heels. Her makeup is elegant, she’s spent hours preparing it, something that would be fitting for some grand social event.

Her Master won’t be taking her any further than the bedroom.

Her heart almost stops beating as the door opens.

Master! Master is here! This slave’s cunt is dripping, nothing more than a soppy slippery mess, her tits are on fire and her mind is in pieces. She just wants to obey. She just wants Master her to take her. Use her. Leave her a shattered mess. Nothing matters beside Master. He’s taller than her, broad shouldered. He looks like he works out. He’s wearing a wonderfully tailored suit. He’s maybe in his mid-thirties. Objectively he’s not the most handsome man, but he’s not plain. It doesn’t matter.

He’s Master.

“Stand up,” Master orders. “Spin around. Let me look at you.”

K23 hurries to obey. It isn’t easy spinning around on the towering heels. But this slave manages. This slave has to.

Master has given this slave an order.

“Good enough, cunt,” Master declares casually. “Now back on your knees. I want those slut lips around my cock.”

This slave is giddy with happiness. She is going to be able to take Master’s cock inside of her. Nothing could be better.

Slowly this slave closes her lips around Master’s cock, after retrieving it from his trousers. This slave knows exactly what Master wants. A slow pace, building up. This slave knows exactly when to apply pressure. When to run her tongue underneath his glans. She learnt. So many mind-melting, cunt-dripping, lessons. Master made sure this slave knows exactly how to please him.

As this slave deep throats her master she can feel her own arousal dripping down her thighs, staining her skimpy panties.

That’s how Master likes it.

She’s almost cumming as she deep throats him. But this slave isn’t allowed to cum unless Master says so.

So she won’t.

“Swallow,” master orders. Sometimes Master likes to paint his slave’s tits. Sometimes he likes them to swallow.

K23 will obey. She loves the taste of Master’s spunk. It’s a delicacy.

Just one more thing her Master taught this slave.

This slave allows a small drop to escape her lips after swirling Master’s load in her mouth. She carefully raises one finger, wipes the spill off her chin. Then this slave plops the finger in her mouth, sucking away.

Master likes that too.

It tastes delicious.

“I’m going to take your arse and then your cunt, slut,” Master announces. “I don’t have all night.”

This slave’s arousal spikes at Master’s words. He’s going to use all her fuckholes! Of course, this slave will let Master do whatever he wants. He owns her body after all. But using all three is a particular honour. Master must be pleased.

Master does let this slave lube his glorious cock before fucking her. It’s an act of worship. Master is this slave’s God.

“Lie on the bed,” Master orders. “I want to hear you.”

This slave’s panties are ripped from her body. Then Master enters her arse. It isn’t gentle. But he’s done this before.

It’s a pleasure like nothing else.

“Oh God, Master,” this slave cries out. “It feels so good. Take me. Take my arse. Use me. I’m your whore, your cumbucket, your sextoy. Fuck me. Fuck this slutty slave’s whore arse. Oh God, you’re so big. Fill me up. Rape your slave’s arse. This slave’s arse is yours.”

Master seems to like what this slave is saying. At least if the increasing force of his thrusts are anything to judge by. This slave lifts her arse to meet each one. Wanting the penetration, the sense of fulfilment. Needing it.

This is her purpose.

Pleasing Master.

“Cum,” Master orders, this slave thrashing underneath him as with one last thrust she feels her bowels being filled with his seed. Being impaled by his cock feels so right.

“Clean me up. I want that cunt. I love how it looks hairless.” Master smirks down at this slave. “Do you know, that was the thing Katy objected to the most? When I told her I’d get her to do that. You don’t remember, do you? Stupid cunt.”

A moment of shame washes over this slave. How dare she not remember something that seemed to give Master pleasure. “S-sorry Master. This slave does not want to disappoint.”

“Eh,” Master shrugs. “Maybe I’ll have you remember some time. Now lose the rest of that outfit. It’s good, but I want my slutty slave naked. Keep the stockings and the heels.” The last is almost an afterthought.

This slave hurries to obey.

“You’ve got nice tits,” Master comments as he plays with this slave’s nipples, the sensation making this slave moan and quiver in delight. Almost as much delight as Master’s praise gives. “Although I think they’d look better pierced. A couple of nice golden rings. You can get Katy to do that, right, fuckpuppet?”

This slave loves the little names Master calls her. Of course she’ll get her persona to get her nipples pierced, if that’s what Master wants. She can get her persona to do anything.

She needs to give Master an answer

She nods. And then all thought is impossible as Master slides his cock into her waiting cunt. There is just need and burning arousal and the joy of being used by Master. It takes longer for Master to cum this time. Even someone as wonderful as Master has his limits and he’s already used her other two holes. This slave is just grateful that Master has chosen to use all three of her fuckholes. That doesn’t happen every time Master visits her.

She wraps her legs around Master’s body, trying to draw more of him inside her, gripping his cock with her vaginal muscles.

Master sighs in contentment, sagging on top of this slave after he spends himself one last time. He didn’t tell this slave to cum. So she didn’t. Maybe he forgot. Maybe he just didn’t want her to. It doesn’t matter. This slave simply does what she is told.

“You know,” Master comments as he dresses himself. This slave’s stockings are ripped in places but they and the heels are still in place. This slave must look like such a slut. This slave is still lying on the bed, playing with her tits, legs spread wide. It was what Master told her to do. “I forgot what a good fuck you are K23.” This slave is so happy. Master is pleased with her. She tweaks her nipples, hard. She thinks that is what he wants.

From the way Master is looking at her, this slave thinks she is right. “When you get those tits pierced I’ll be back. That new one, the redhead. S22. She’s a good find as well. Nice arse. Hmm. Maybe she can come over and watch TV with you. I like the idea of you two getting reinforcement, naked, side by side. Forgetting each other is there. I know. You’re going to move in together. Friends sharing an apartment. The cost of your share should be less than what you’re paying at the moment. And that’ll be more money you can send to me each month.”

After all her expenses, plus the wardrobe Master wants her to have, any money Katy has left is sent to Master. She thinks she’s saving, but she isn’t.

“One hand playing with your cunt now slave.” This slave hurries to obey as Master continues. “When I visit I can take both of you together. Would you like that, slave? Maybe I can watch you two eat each other out.”

“Whatever pleases you Master,” this slave replies, her fingers deep in her sopping cunt as her hand continues to painfully tweak a nipple. This slave can picture her and S22 together. Head down, eating S22’s slutty cunt. It would probably be bare. Master likes his slaves’ cunts that way. Had Samantha’s cunt been bare? It didn’t matter. S22’s will be. Soon, if not already. And it doesn’t matter if neither of them are into women. They’ll do whatever Master wants.

And enjoy it.

“Then that’s what we’ll do. And if you find anyone else Katy hates, you just let me know.”

Of course that’s what K23 would do. Because anyone Katy hates on first sight will be someone Master will just adore.

It is just another way for this slave to obey.

Arousal is still leaking down K23’s legs as Master leaves.

(The End)