Vox Dominus — Chapter 17
Chelsea stood petrified in front of the door, a short-circuiting robot struggling to process the world around her. Distance and time no longer made sense; impulses fired in random directions and collided in mid-flight. She should open the door. She should run. She should call Master. Why would she call Master? She couldn’t say; she just needed somebody to tell her why. Why was her mother here? Why was everything falling apart?
How long had she been standing there?
“Chelsea, don’t be childish,” Elise Jaeger scolded. “Keeping me out here won’t make me leave; I’ll just get one of the staff to open this door. Or perhaps I should contact your roommates. Wouldn’t that be nice, dragging them into your mess as well?”
A fresh jolt of panic zapped Chelsea, miraculously rattling her synapses back into place. She pivoted on her heel, racing back to her room. There was no time to consider the reason for her mother’s sudden arrival: all Chelsea could do now was mitigate the damage.
That meant dealing with the drooling, masturbating girl on her bed.
No time for subtly—Chelsea crossed the room in two strides and threw the headphones off of her moaning subject. She grabbed Sophia’s face, forcing their eyes to meet.
“Sophia, can you hear me?” Chelsea hissed.
“Hngh?” The busy girl blinked. “Um, yeah…hear you…” she drawled, her fingers still lazily tracing the lips of her pussy.
“You love to obey, don’t you?”
“Yes…love to obey Master…”
Chelsea swallowed. Sophia was still in trance, but odds were it wouldn’t take much to shake her out of it. “That’s a good girl,” the blonde murmured, moving Sophia’s hand away from her dripping snatch and guiding the naked, unsteady girl to her feet. “Master just gave me some very important instructions for you. And you’ll follow them, right?”
“Follow…yes…” Sophia’s brow furrowed. “Wait…Master…?” she put a finger to her still-glistening lips. “Where…is…Master?”
Chelsea threw open the door to her closet. “He said you need to wait here and listen to his voice. But you need to do so quietly, understand?”
Sophia’s eyelids fluttered. “Listen to his voice…” she echoed as Chelsea plopped her down below a rack of coats. “Feels good…to listen…”
“Yes exactly. Quietly though,” Chelsea emphasized, retrieving her phone and slipping Sophia’s headphones back on her head.
“Quiet…ahhhh…” Sophia slumped against the wall, her mouth hanging open and the light in her eyes dimming as the recording started again.
Chelsea shut the door, pausing for a moment to make sure no moans of ecstasy leaked through. It was a far from ideal solution, but still preferable to waking Sophia up and trying to juggle her and Elise at once.
The doorbell rang again.
Chelsea rushed to unbutton her blouse, tearing it and her skirt off and tossing them across the floor. She scooped up a pair of pajama pants and a hoodie as she dashed for the door, hastily covering her bare pussy and lacey push-up bra. Hopefully her mother wouldn’t ask her to strip for an inspection; it was unlikely, but not impossible.
A quick pause in the hall mirror to smudge her makeup was all the time she had left. She opened the front door, blinking as though uncertain if she were dreaming or not.
“Mom?” she said. “What are you—“
“There you are,” Elise interrupted, brushing past her daughter like an icy breeze. “Took the scenic route, did you?”
“Sorry…” Chelsea mumbled, trying to sound tired even as her neck-hairs stood on end. “I was asleep.”
“At nine-thirty on a Friday?” Elise asked, surveying the apartment. “You’re not sick, are you?”
“Pregnant? Amnesic? Delusional?”
“Of course not.”
“Then how do you explain yourself?”
Chelsea rubbed her forehead. “I was just tired. Isn’t that an acceptable excuse?”
Elise crossed her arms. “For mere tardiness, perhaps. But from what I’ve seen, very little about your sophomore year has been ‘acceptable.’”
Chelsea’s jaw clenched. “What are you talking about? Why are you even here?”
“As if you don’t already know,” Elise laughed, shaking her head as she moved down the hall.
Chelsea trailed reluctantly behind, her eyes narrowed. “Is this about my grades? If you had checked this morning, you’d see that they’re back where they should be.”
“Correcting a mistake doesn’t mean it never happened,” Elise tutted.
Chelsea scoffed. “Now you’re just being cruel.”
“Perhaps,” Elise replied, reaching the kitchen. She scanned the array of bottles, frowning until she found one that seemed to meet her grudging approval. “Truth is often crueler than fiction,” she continued, mixing herself a drink. “To use another example: while you may believe that college life is yours to shape as you please, the cruel truth is that it’s only through my grace that it exists. And that can be revoked as easily as it was given.”
“Nothing is easy with you,” Chelsea shot back. “But that hasn’t stopped me from passing every asinine test your throw my way. So if you want to use me as a punching bag, fine—I’ll get through it like I always do.”
Elise took a sip of her drink, her eyes unblinking as she regarded her daughter. “Is that why you think I came here? To vent? To assuage my own ego?”
Chelsea hesitated. For a brief moment, she feared her mother had somehow heard about Master but…no, this had to be a bluff. Elise had probably seen Chelsea’s academic errors as an opening, and was fishing for further leverage. So long as she didn’t take the bait, Chelsea would be safe. Relatively speaking.
“I don’t know why you’re here,” Chelsea sighed. “Like I said, my grades are back on track. Everything is going as planned. Or at least it was until you showed up a week early.”
“Ah.” Elise set her glass down. “So you haven’t been skipping sorority meetings then?”
Chelsea blinked. “My attendance isn’t perfect, if that’s what you’re asking. But I’m always there when I need to be, and Veronica keeps me updated otherwise, so…”
“A reasonable explanation,” Elise nodded. “Or it would be, if not for your…other transgressions.”
“Transgressions?” Chelsea’s throat tightened, forcing her to swallow. “What are you talking about?”
“What indeed?” Elise advanced, closing in like a cat cornering a mouse. “Perhaps I’m referring to you abandoning your friends late at night with nary an explanation? Or maybe the time you invited a complete stranger into your circle and told people she was an acquaintance of mine? Is any of this ringing a bell?”
Chelsea didn’t even think it was possible for her heart to beat this fast. For the second time that night, she had been caught completely off-guard by her opponent. But that didn’t mean she was done for. Like with Sophia, there was still a chance Chelsea could turn this around. If only she could regain her balance.
She forced a laugh. “This is news to me. I don’t know who told you all this, but they clearly—”
Elise cut her off, waving her hand as though swatting a gnat. “Don’t bother with that old gambit. You’ve insulted me enough—at least do me the courtesy of respecting my sources.”
“You really don’t know?” Elise grimaced, a glimmer of pity in her eyes. “It was Veronica, sweetheart. She told me everything.”
The name pierced Chelsea’s chest, so sharp and fast she almost laughed. There was no way this was happening. Veronica knew what Elise was like, had seen the havoc she could wreak. Could it be that Chelsea’s best friend, the support she had clung to when couldn’t stand…was now a weapon in her mother’s grasp?
Elise sighed. “I was as surprised as you are. But it seems the poor girl has been feeling quite neglected as of late. Ever since you met…what was his name again?” She arched an eyebrow. “Sebastian Wakefield, was it?”
Chelsea’s breath stuck in her throat. Her Master’s name rung in her ears, blurring her vision and sapping her strength. The full scope of Elise’s attack was finally clear, and Chelsea’s pitiful defenses were rapidly crumbling.
“Seems I’ve hit the nail on the head,” Elise observed. “Would you like to explain, or should I assume the worst?”
“I….I….” Chelsea’s voice faded as the ground beneath her gave way. She plummeted in helpless free-fall, speed and terror stripping away all semblance of balance and control. Her mind clawed at the air, reaching for distant possibilities, desperate for anything to slow her breakneck descent. But any plan that she grasped dissolved into nothing. She couldn’t convince Elise to listen to the recording. Nor could Chelsea guarantee it would work on someone who hadn’t heard the Vox before. She couldn’t turn to Veronica for help anymore, nor would any of her other “friends” risk defying Elise on her behalf. Chelsea couldn’t even run or fight on her own. Everything she owned, all the connections she had—Elise held the keys to them all.
Chelsea had nothing.
No friends, no allies.
Just a growing cavity in her chest, and humiliated tears leaking down her cheeks.
“I…I…” she continued to stammer between sharp, shaking breaths. Even though she was motionless, her body struggled for air. She had been a fool. She had thought she could actually face her mother on equal footing. But she was still living in Elise’s world, still bound by her laws. What had made Chelsea think this time would be different? Hadn’t she learned this lesson by now? How could she have been so stupid?
“Oh, Chelsea,” Elise softened, reaching for her daughter. “It’s okay. Your mother understands.”
Chelsea sucked a painful gasp through her teeth, flinching as Elise’s fingers stroked her cheek. But the defeated girl couldn’t pull away, couldn’t resist shivering against every caress. She recognized her mother’s gambit, knew her affection could evaporate any moment. Yet as long as it existed, Chelsea couldn’t resist its pull. She would fall to its whims like she always did, clinging to its promise like a fading dream. No matter how awful the inevitable awakening.
“In a way, this is my fault as much as yours,” Elise murmured. “I’ve been too hard on you, expecting you to grow up as fast as I did. But how could you? Your adolescence has been nothing like mine. I’ve shielded you from the worst of the world, given you privileges I never had. I should’ve known it would lead to this—that even as you learned to pantomime adulthood, you were still the same lost, scared child you’ve always been. In need of guidance. In need of protection. I’m right, aren’t I?”
Even as her stomach churned, Chelsea found herself nodding. It was true. She was lost. And so, so scared.
“Don’t worry,” Elise said. “Your mother will take care of you.” She stood and extended her hand. “Come. I have a suite in town for the weekend. We have many plans to make, and I’d rather not have any more interference with your…education.”
Chelsea took her mother’s hand without a word, gliding numbly towards the door. She was dimly aware that Sophia was still in her room, but couldn’t bring herself to break from Elise’s grasp. It all seemed so childish now, her dreams of running away, her fantasies about Master and a life of bliss. None of it was real, not compared to the truth in her mother’s words, the power of her touch. They knew Chelsea better than Master ever did, and would shape her into something more perfect than he ever could.
And yet…for the briefest of moments, she imagined Master waiting for her outside, pictured his eyes meeting hers, heard the echo of the Vox in her ears.
She wiped the tear away before her mother could see it.
It was dark, but Sophia wasn’t concerned.
Should she be?
She blinked, peering at her surroundings as though through a dense fog. She was in a small room. Naked. Her breasts were dappled with drool. Her hand was resting against her spread legs, her fingers coated with her own juices. Her glasses were askew, and there were headphones on her head.
It felt like she should be concerned.
Yet even as the thought occurred to her, it began floating away, like a balloon slipping from her fingertips. She grasped at it, but in doing so several other fleeting threads escaped from her mind, making it impossible to focus on recovering them.
So she sat, her lips curved into a vague pout, waiting for the world to start making sense again. If only Master were here. He could tell her what to do.
That was…Seb, wasn’t it?
Seb was Master. That felt right.
Had he…always been Master?
Sophia sat up, groggily wiping her fingers on her thigh before readjusting her glasses. Strange memories of Master drifted through her brain, recollections of sleepless slumber parties, raucous game nights, and endless adventures in the woods. She remembered his nervous stutter when she had found his book on hypnotism, and the glow in his eyes when she had told him it was interesting. He hadn’t been Master then, and yet…he was Master. Her Master. Whom she loved to obey. It felt good to obey. She was a good girl. She…
She moaned, rubbing her forehead. It took so much work to marshal a few thoughts in place, yet stray ideas kept setting off rapid chain reactions, like dominos falling outside her control. She focused on her surroundings, hoping the present would pull her out of her whirling head.
There were coats hanging just above her. And dresses. She was in a closet, one larger than her bathroom back home. A phone was resting next to her, but it wasn’t hers. Yet her headphones were plugged into it. And a moment ago…she was pretty sure it had been playing a recording of Master’s voice.
His voice. She had to listen. It felt good to listen. To follow his words. To obey like a good girl should.
As if in a dream, Sophia’s hand moved on its own, scooping up the phone and bringing it close. Her dazed reflection stared back at her on the dark screen, the spark of recognition giving her a moment’s pause. But it didn’t last. Master wanted her to listen. She had to obey. It felt good to obey. So easy and natural. Much more so than thinking.
The phone buzzed in her hands: locked. Disappointment trickled through Sophia, followed by a rush of revulsion. She quickly unplugged her headphones, tossing the phone deeper into the closet before it could tempt her further. What was wrong with her? Why had she been practically salivating over a stranger’s phone? A vision flashed through her mind, an image of her on a bed, drooling and moaning as hands caressed her breasts and teased her pussy, her hips grinding mindlessly, automatically as her willpower leaked out between her legs.
Sophia shook her head. The vision was terrifying. Mystifying. And, in a way she couldn’t explain…tempting.
She didn’t know why, but she had to get out of there.
Sophia threw open the door to the closet, blinking in the light of a room at once alien and familiar. That desk…those panties…that bed…every point of recognition became a further anchor for her drifting thoughts. She remembered this was Chelsea’s room. Sophia had come here to test something. Master’s power. Even though it was obvious now, she hadn’t believed in it back then. Until Chelsea had put these headphones on Sophia’s head and…Sophia had tried to stop her but…
But that didn’t make sense. Why would Sophia try to resist? She loved to listen and follow Master’s voice. She loved to obey. All of this was true, and yet, she remembered fighting it all the same. The dissonance was paralyzing—she stood dumbly in the middle of the room, rooted to the spot as the competing realities fought for supremacy. It was like when she had recalled memories of the before-Master: some part of her knew they were real, yet they seemed askew somehow, unable to mesh with the new truths shaping her thoughts.
Maybe she should give up and stop trying to force it. Maybe she should forget that she was ever without Master’s guidance…accept his ownership of her body and mind without question.
Her eyes fell on the bed, another anchor yanking her into a startling realization.
Had she…been brainwashed?
Her pussy twitched. A fresh dribble of arousal trickled down her leg.
Those sheets looked awfully inviting. And Sophia felt so tired all of a sudden. She could find the phone again if she wanted to. She could send Master a text, put the headphones back on her ears, and slip into blissful surrender while she waited for his arrival. That sounded nice. Easy. Natural. It would feel so good. To let him take her. To just stop trying to make sense of all of this. To let him tell her what she needed to think instead.
But then she saw her clothes on the ground. And remembered the brief moment when Master’s voice had stopped, when she had struggled against Chelsea’s grasp. The way the blonde had smirked, the way she had cooed condescendingly while she…stroked and caressed Sophia back into submission…the way Chelsea’s soft, perfect breasts felt in Sophia’s hands…
Escape. Sophia had to escape. She could figure out what to do about Master later. But this was Chelsea’s domain—no good could come from lingering here.
With unsteady hands, Sophia collected the remnants of her outfit on the floor, forcing all of her attention on placing each article back in its place. So intense was her focus that she was quite startled when the door to the room opened, and a confused, rigid man in a suit hesitated in the entryway.
“Oh. My apologies,” the man said, averting his eyes. “I thought this was Ms. Jaeger’s room. You must be one of her roommates.”
“Yes,” Sophia answered blankly, more out of instinct than intentional deception. It took another full beat to process that she was still missing her tank top, a fact she quickly corrected. “S-sorry,” she uttered without knowing why.
The man smiled apologetically. “The fault’s all mine. Though if it’s not too much trouble, could you point me towards her room? I work for the family, and her mother asked that I collect her things.”
“Uh. This is…it.” Sophia gestured vaguely around her, only to gradually realize how strange of an answer that was.
“Oh. So…” the man looked around the room, then quizzically at her.
“I…left my top here.” The excuse was barely out of her mouth before Sophia was hurrying past him towards the exit. For a moment, it seemed like he might try to stop her, but she closed the door before he could make up his mind. She wasn’t sure what was happening, but her goosebumps urged her not to stick around and find out.
Without a glance back, Sophia yanked her coat off the hanger and dashed out of the apartment. The dizziness in her head was finally fading, but her thoughts were still in a jumble as she descended to the ground floor and slipped into the cool night outside. Streams of students and honking cars passed on the street, causing her to hesitate, directionless and uncertain. It was like a new filter had been placed over her senses, subtly warping everything she perceived, rendering it recognizable yet out-of-place.
A weary sigh escaped her lips. She felt drained, adrift and still a little aroused. A part of her wanted to just go back to her dorm, masturbate until she fell asleep, and let everything sort itself out in the morning. But another voice told her that was dangerous. If Master…no, if Chelsea had really brainwashed her, there was a chance sleeping now would just cement the programming in place. And while the thought of surrender tempted her heart, her resistance refused to yield. Even if Seb was her Master, even if she loved to obey, what Chelsea did was still awful. She had tricked Sophia and stolen her mind. Without her approval. Without Master’s approval. It was wrong.
Even if she had to keep reminding herself of that fact.
A fresh wave of confusion crashed through Sophia, submerging her in the dissonance she had just managed to escape. What was she supposed to do? She couldn’t just give in and go to sleep, but she would get nowhere swimming in her own head either. She needed help. She needed direction.
She needed Master.
Her feet were already moving, carrying her towards the one guiding light she had left. He was the source of all of this. He would understand better than anyone what was happening to her. He could give her answers. He could give her clarity.
Or…he could take it all away.
Sophia wasn’t sure which outcome she preferred. The realization made her chest shiver.
“Seb? Hey, earth to Seb!”
“Huh?” Seb uttered, startled. Despite being in a crowded den with the lights on, Miki had somehow snuck up to his spot on the couch, and was now staring at him with concern.
“Are you…feeling alright?” she asked, her eyes flitting to red plastic cup in his hands. “Sure you’re not pushing your luck with the booze there?”
“Oh. No, I’m fine,” Seb lied. “Maybe a little tipsier than I expected,” he added, hoping that would suffice for an explanation.
The truth was, two whole movies had gone by, and Seb had barely processed a minute of them. His entire world had been absorbed into the phone in his pocket, his every muscle tense and waiting for the vibration that would signal Sophia’s reply. Yet the device had remained maddeningly dormant, its silence somehow drowning out the screams on the T.V. and the laughter of his friends.
“Alright, well, just be careful,” Miki cautioned. “We’ve still got one more movie to go.”
Seb nodded vaguely, watching as she crossed the room towards the kitchen where Tobias was waiting. Other club members milled around the cramped room, laughing, chatting, and venting some of the post-movie jitters. A few were collecting their coats by the door, hugging and bidding their friends farewell. It occurred to Seb that it might be wise to join them. He was tired, a little drunk, and not in the right headspace for yet another over-the-top slasher. But returning to the dorm wasn’t exactly an attractive option either. It wouldn’t silence his anxieties—it would just remove the free booze and friends. At least staying put offered a modicum of distraction from Sophia’s silence.
Then again—the Vox stirred restlessly inside him—if he was at home, he could freely appreciate all those pictures Chelsea had sent him. She hadn’t texted him in a while, so his fears and guilt about trapping her in a brain-melting loop were probably unfounded. There was no harm in enjoying the spoils of war, and with Ben spending the night at Nathalie’s place, Seb didn’t even have to fear interruption. Maybe he could call Chelsea and convince her to send him something special. He knew she would enjoy it, and so long as things were still ambiguous with Sophia, he didn’t think it’d be crossing any lines…
The Vox hummed with delight, the sound sweetened by the booze still floating in Seb’s head. But he quickly cut that line of thinking short: tempting though it was, it would only serve to muddle the situation further. The last he need was any more complications with—
His pocket buzzed, causing him to almost choke on his drink. His heart leapt into his throat, then plummeted when he read the message:
[master im here]
At first, Seb feared Chelsea had somehow tracked him down, and was now standing outside demanding his attention. But then he realized the text hadn’t come from her number.
It had come from Sophia.
Seb stood, nerves chattering with every heartbeat. He slipped through the crowd towards the door, shooting one glance at the kitchen to make sure his friends were still occupied. If Sophia was calling him “master” out of the blue, it meant she was either very drunk, or still Voxed somehow. Either way, it was better Tobias and Miki weren’t involved.
Sophia was waiting on the sidewalk outside, bathed in the glow of the nearby streetlight. Her eyes seemed oddly distant as they tracked the departing partygoers, her body swaying restlessly back and forth. Despite her cardigan, Seb could see her tiny nipples strain against the fabric of her tank-top, and her lips opened with a small gasp when she noticed him approaching.
“Master,” Sophia uttered, as though pleasantly surprised to see him. The joy vanished in an instant though, her face twisting with confusion. “Er. Seb. Hi. Sorry.”
“Glad you made it.” Seb said, shooting a glance back at the porch windows. “Is everything alright? You didn’t answer any of my—”
“S-something happened,” the nervous girl blurted out. “Can we talk? Right now? Please? I’ll do anything for you. I mean. God.” She clutched her head with an exasperated groan. “You know what I mean, right Master? I mean—”
“It’s okay,” Seb assured her. “Just take a deep breath, and we’ll talk.”
Sophia obeyed, her eyelashes fluttering slightly as she exhaled. Seb placed his hand against the small of her back, guiding her to the shadowy side of the house. He couldn’t help but notice the way her muscles loosened against his touch, nor the way her body immediately complied to the slightest nudge of his fingers.
“There,” he said once they were safe from prying eyes. “Is this alright?”
“Yes. It’s alright,” Sophia repeated with a drowsy nod. She was visibly less jittery, though her gaze still didn’t seem entirely lucid as it drifted up to meet his. Her mouth hung open silently, as though she was about to speak but had forgotten what she wanted say. And the longer they stood in silence, the closer she seemed to drift towards him. The Vox murmured, uncurling in the simmering tension.
Seb shifted, forcing himself to look away. “You, uh, said something happened?” he prompted.
“Huh? Oh, right.” Sophia looked at the ground. “Sorry. When you touched me, it just. Um.” She swallowed the rest of the sentence, and let out a shaky breath. “A-anyway…god, where do I start? Uh, remember when we were hanging out in my room and you h-hypnotized me?”
“Yes…” Seb answered. As if he could forget. “Though I thought I woke you up from that. You haven’t been, y’know, tranced all day, have you?”
“No. Not exactly,” Sophia answered. “But I did notice that it felt, um, different than the last time. I couldn’t get your voice out of my head, and the more I thought about it, the more I started…wondering…” her dark eyes found his once again, and like a light being dimmed, her voice faded until she was silent and agape.
The Vox growled with anticipation, its dark influence already trickling into Seb’s veins. His cock stiffened. His breathing slowed. Let a predator smelling blood, his body prepared itself to pounce. But he fought the poison back, stopping it short of his heart. Sophia wasn’t prey; she needed his help. He had been an idiot to use his power so carelessly—why hadn’t he considered some subjects would react differently than others? Now his best friend was trapped in a half-trance state, and it was all his fault.
“Sophia?” Seb asked, straining to keep his voice level.
She blinked. “Yes, Master?”
“I think there might be some, uh, side-effects from our session,” Seb ventured, touching her shoulder and nudging her back the way they came. “But if we go back to my dorm, I think I can get rid of—”
“Wait.” Sophia pressed a hand to his chest, freezing him in an instant. She huffed, scrunching her face in concentration. “It’s not that. I mean, it kind of is but…look.” She dropped her hand, turning and taking a few steps away. After another deep breath, she faced him again, her expression lit by a new spark of clarity. “What I’m trying to tell you is…Chelsea told me about the Vox. And she tricked me into listening to it.”
The revelation swept through Seb like a frigid gale, stealing the air from his lungs. “She…what?” was all he managed to squeak out, before the spots in his vision cut him off.
“It was a trap,” Sophia explained, running a hand through her hair. “I knew there was something weird going on between you two, and when I called her on it she told me you’d been…mind controlling her, I guess.” She paused, as though scared to ask: “That’s true, isn’t it?”
Addled though he was, Seb knew he couldn’t deny the truth any longer. “Yes,” he croaked. “But it’s not…it was an accident, and I swore I would never—”
“I know.” Sophia’s lips curved into a thoughtful pout. “She told me you were afraid of it, the, uh, power you have, I guess. I wasn’t sure I believed her, but when she asked if I wanted to hear a recording of it…I said yes. Then…oh god…” She paused, a subtle shiver running through her. She swayed, off balance for a moment before falling against the house for support and sliding to her knees, as though the memory had sapped the strength from her legs.
“Fuck, Sophia, I’m so sorry.” Seb rushed to her side. “If I had known what she was up to, I would’ve stopped her, I swear.”
“Then what?” Sophia asked, a note of bitterness in her voice. “Would you have told me about the Vox? Ever? Or would it have stayed your secret little party trick?”
“I…” Seb’s stomach shuddered, sick with shame. “I’m sorry. I knew it was wrong to keep it from you but…I didn’t know what to do. I still don’t,” he admitted, unable to stop. “I’ve tried so hard to protect you and Chelsea from the Vox, but…I just keep making things worse.”
He slumped against the wall, resting the back of his head against the cool siding. He stared at the web of powerlines and branches above, sensing Sophia’s gaze, but unable to meet it. “Maybe I’m just cursed,” he muttered. “Ever since the Vox came alive, all I’ve done is hurt and manipulate people. Even when I don’t mean to.”
“That’s not true,” Sophia said, scooting closer to kneel beside him. “Last night, when you hypnotized me…it was like living in one of my high school dreams. I felt...so calm. And safe. And…sexy. I didn’t have to worry about school, or money, or bad habits or anything. I could just relax, and trust that you would take care of me. It was…all I’ve ever wanted.”
Seb met her eyes. They were as soft and warm as her voice.
“Even now,” she continued, “when I think about what Chelsea did, I…there’s a part of me that doesn’t regret it. I don’t know if that’s my own brain talking, or the Vox, or some mix of both, but I can’t ignore it. It’s calling to me. And…” her eyelids fluttered, her fingers gripping her sleeves, pressing her breasts together as a sigh trembled through them. “Oh god, I don’t know what’s happening to me, but Master, I…I…
“Sophia, listen to me,” Seb’s hands were shaking, but he gripped her shoulders fast, as if she might fade away at any moment. “I—I can fix this. I’ll use the Vox again and erase…whatever Chelsea’s done to you. Then, I’ll track her down,” his voice hardened, “and wipe the Vox clean from her memory. She’ll never bother us again, I swear.”
“And…then what?” Sophia asked. “What happens to you? To me? To the Vox? We can’t just pretend things’ll go back to normal.”
“I-I know but, but…” Seb grit his teeth. “I’ll figure something out. It might take some time, and I might have to keep my distance for a while, but I’ll find a way to get rid of the Vox and—“
“No,” Sophia’s hands grasped his, her eyes pleading. “Please don’t leave me again. Especially if you don’t know when you’ll come back.”
Seb’s throat coarsened with frustration. “Then what am I supposed to do?” he demanded.
Sophia paused. A car passed in the distance, offering no answers.
“What do you want?” she finally asked.
“I…I…” Seb hung his head, trying to hide the tears pricking the edges of his vision. How could a question be so simple, and yet cut so deeply? “I…I just don’t want to be afraid anymore,” he confessed. “I want to like who I am and…I want you to like me too.”
Sophia seemed to absorb this, saying nothing.
Seb sniffed, forcing a rueful laugh. “What about you?” he asked. “What do you want?”
Sophia started to speak, then stopped. She withdrew her hands from Seb’s and brought them to her face, as though carrying some of his warmth to her blushing cheeks. “I…” she swallowed. “I want you to ask me again…but with the other voice.”
Seb met her eyes, hesitant. “You mean?”
“You’re sure?” Seb pressed. “It’ll influence your answer.”
“It already has,” Sophia tilted her head with a tired smile. “And I’m sick of arguing with myself.”
Seb released her shoulders, centering himself as he knelt across from her. “Okay,” he said. “Are you ready?”
Sophia exhaled. The night air hung between them like a curtain waiting to be drawn.
“Yes, Master,” she said.
The Vox was already dripping from his tongue, eager and ready. “Sophia,” he uttered. “Relax.”
The effect was immediate. Seb could almost see the wave of pleasure pass through her, a mirror image of the power rising within him.
“In a moment I’m going to ask you an important question. And you will answer truthfully, from the bottom of your heart. Understand?”
“Yes...Master…” she answered, her lips lingering open after each syllable. “I…understand…”
“Very good. Now…” even as the Vox drove him on, Seb couldn’t help but hesitate. “What do you want?”
A flicker of confusion passed across Sophia’s face. “I…” she bit her lip, her hips squirming slightly. “I…”
The Vox pumped eagerly through Seb, inflaming his blood and cooling his voice. “Whatever your answer is, say it clearly without fear. And know that it’s the truth.”
The final word sent a visible tremor through Sophia. A smile broke across her face, like a ray of sun through a cloudy sky.
Their eyes met.
“I want you, Master,” she said.
Seb could resist no longer. He drew her to him, clasping her lips with his. He drank deeply from her with every sense, reveling in her sweet scent, her soft moans, her eager movements. She arched her back as his mouth found her neck, her fingers grasping his arms, pulling him closer, pressing her quivering breasts against his beating chest. Her hot breath beckoned him on, as though the fire in his veins needed any encouragement. As though the sweet taste of her tongue and the yielding softness of her body weren’t enough to burn away all inhibitions, leaving only the raw desire to seize what was his. His leg pressed against her crotch and her thighs squeezed tight, her hips grinding desperately, pleadingly.
“Please, Master,” she gasped, balling his shirt in her fists. “Take me. Take all of me. Please, I’ll do anything, I’ll—mm!”
Seb cut her off with another kiss, and delighted in her dazed gasp when he pulled away, a dribble of saliva still lingering on her open, panting lips.
“If you wish to be mine,” he growled, his voice thrumming with power. “You must be willing to give me everything.”
“Yes…” the burgeoning slave mewled, grasping for him with trembling hands. “Oh god, yes…please…”
“Good girl.” Seb smiled as his approval shook gasping whimpers from her mouth. “Then follow me,” he commanded, standing. “And obey.”
Sophia was floating, drifting in ecstatic flight, so high and free that not even her own thoughts could reach her.
The bus started to move. Master and Sophia were seated in the back. His hand was stroking her leg as his words stroked her mind. Sophia couldn’t decide which she loved more. She didn’t have to.
“Good girl. That’s right. So obedient. So relaxed. So ready to go even deeper for me, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” her lips answered.
“Then drop for me…now.”
His fingers snapped and Sophia’s vision blurred. Her head lolled against Master’s shoulder as the world dissolved into a hazy collage of ecstasy and arousal. She felt helpless, weak, and yet safe in the cradle of his power. Time was the mark of his touch, her senses a mere product of his words. She could feel her old self melting away, her beating core eager to be remade. Never had she been so beholden, and never had she felt so free.
“Open your eyes. Very good. Now follow.”
Master was leading her down a hall now, his hand wrapped tightly in hers. His fingers seemed to vibrate, sending electricity racing across her skin and brain, sparking with each step as they approached a wooden door. It lead to his dorm room, Sophia realized, noting the fact without further thought or feeling. If either were necessary, Master would tell her. Until then, she would allow herself to slip back into the waters of her mind, into the warm pool of blissful obedience she craved.
“That’s good,” Master murmured as they entered. “Now stand in the center of the room, and await further orders.”
Sophia felt like she was gliding across the floor, her movements free of friction. The door clicked shut behind her, and she heard the sound of clothes rustling. Still she waited, passive and obedient. She was a good girl. Good girls waited for their orders.
Master’s fingers curled around her shoulders. She felt his breath lick her cheek. She quivered, her skin hot and desperate. But she remained still, as commanded. Even as Master’s bare chest pressed against her back, and his erection teased her ass.
“Good girl,” Master purred, sending a flash of pleasure through her brain. “Now, turn and face me.”
Sophia did as she was told. Master stood back, his naked form haloed by the hazy glow of his desk lamp. His slender chest rose and fell with deep, steady breaths, his cock stiff and red, eagerly twitching in the half-light. Sophia felt her mouth water, her pussy tensing in time with the object of her fixation. It was automatic, instinctual—her body knew how to ready itself for her Master’s wishes.
Master grinned. His dark eyes hummed with an impossible radiance, so transfixing that Sophia found her gaze drawn into his, so deeply it felt like she was falling into him. “Very good,” his voice reverberated in her head. “Now on the count of three, I want you to strip for me. And I want you to feel yourself becoming more open, more submissive, and more aroused with every item of clothing that you remove. You will do this for me, because you cannot resist. You do not want to resist. Your only wish is to obey. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes Master,” Sophia panted, barely able to contain her excitement.
“Good girl. And be sure to recite your mantra while you do it. One. Two. Three.”
Mantra? When had she learned a manta? No matter—the words were already floating from her lips as she slipped the cardigan off her shoulders, letting it fall as she undid the buttons on her jeans.
“I am my Master’s slave,” she chanted. Her pants were the next to hit the floor. “My body belongs to my Master. My mind belongs to my Master. I cannot deny him. I will always obey.”
He was circling her now, so tantalizingly close, yet still out of reach. Sophia’s hands trembled as she peeled her soaking panties free. She ached for his touch, for his possession. Only he could give her what she wanted, could relieve her from the agony of being so wet, so open, and yet so, so empty.
“I am m-my Master’s slave,” her voice shook as her tits dropped free from her bra. “M-my body belongs t-to my Master. My mind belongs to my Master. I…I cannot deny him. I…I…will always…o-obey…”
She felt him behind her. His heat, his presence. In the space between their bodies his power pooled and caressed her. She stood stock still, naked. Unable to move, unable to think. A pure conduit for her Master’s will, an animal of slavish, irresistible pleasure.
His arms wrapped around her, and Sophia gasped. His hands roamed her body, tracing the contours of her wide hips and soft belly, seizing ample fistfuls of her needy, sensitive tits. Every squeeze and tickle rippled through her in thrums of pleasure, every brush of his fingers against her nipples drawing a halting cry to her lips.
“Good girl. That’s right. It feels so good to surrender, to give in to my voice, my power. It feels so good, so right, so easy and natural. Nothing brings a slave more pleasure than pleasing her Master. Isn’t that right?”
“Y-yes..!” Sophia cried. She pressed against him, thrilled to feel his cock pulse against her. Her hips wiggled with anticipation, enticing him, beckoning him. When Master’s body tensed, when his grasp closed in even tighter, it was almost enough to make her cum then and there. She knew she was pleasing him, knew she was being a good slave. It was all she ever wanted.
“That’s right. No more thoughts, no more resistance. So soft and weak.”
“S-soft and w-weaakk…” she whimpered as his hand found the dampness between her legs. He stroked slowly, enticingly, even as her thighs spread eagerly to accept him, even as she bit her lip, her hips twitching, begging for more.
“Focus on my touch. The way your body responds so perfectly, so obediently. It knows who its Master is, doesn’t it?”
“Y-y-yesssss…” Sophia moaned. It was true. The sensations were overwhelming. They enveloped every inch of her. She was too weak to resist. Too obedient to want to.
“Good girl. Open your mind to that truth, to that pleasure. Let it fill you completely.”
“F-fill me…ah!” Master’s fingers slipped inside her slowly, gently. Yet Sophia felt every sensation like an earthquake. The tremors built and built as Master’s pace and aggression increased. Sophia grasped at his neck for support. Her legs trembled and her hips bucked. Drool dripped freely with every moan.
“You want to come for me, don’t you?” Master growled. “You show your Master what a good girl you are, isn’t that right?”
“Yes! Yes!” Sophia begged. “Please Master please please please—”
“Then cum for me, slave. Quietly.”
It was too much. Pleasure and relief exploded inside her, even as she struggled to contain her cries of ecstasy. Her pussy spasmed and gushed, surrendering completely to Master’s touch. She belonged to him now. Every fiber of her being knew it. He had brought her body and mind in perfect sync, unified in their new purpose.
She was happy. She was one. She was his.
Sophia moaned in Seb’s arms, helpless and shaking in the wake of the orgasm he had gifted her. He gently pulled his fingers from her dripping cunt, bringing them up towards her panting mouth. She accepted them wordlessly, her lips enveloping and sucking without the slightest hesitation. There was no more fighting, no more resistance from either of them. They were in perfect unity, acting as one. His will. His power. Her devotion. Her obedience.
It was like nothing Seb had ever felt before. All the pieces of himself that had held him back, all the fears and doubts had been incinerated by the warmth of Sophia’s naked body, the uncontrollable lust in her voice, and the dull, obedient sheen in her eyes. Yet even as he burned with desire, the Vox honed and focused that fire, forging unbreakable chains to bind his new slave. They flowed from him without hesitation, with no consideration for who either he or Sophia had been before. He was not a virgin fingering his best friend. And she was not the anxious nerd who had broken his heart.
He was the Vox. He was her Master. And she was his. To do with as he pleased.
“That’s right. Good girl,” Seb murmured. Sophia shuddered, a muffled moan leaking out as he extracted his fingers. “Now get on the bed so your Master may use you.”
“Y-yes Master,” she replied with a meek whimper. She staggered to the bed on unsteady feet, crawling onto the mattress before rolling on her back and spreading her thick legs wide, her pussy already dripping onto his sheets.
Seb followed soon after, looming over his soaking toy. He smiled, the tip of his cock resting on the lips of her cunt, becoming slick with her juices in an instant. She had already confessed to being on the pill earlier, so there was no need to hold back. Still, Seb enjoyed teasing his plaything, watching the desperation and obedience warring behind her vacant eyes.
“Since you’ve been such a good girl,” he said, grinning as her fists clenched and her hips squirmed. “I’ll let you cum freely as I fuck you. But know that each time, you are giving more of yourself to me, surrendering even more completely to my power. Do you understand?”
“Yes! Yes Master!” his slave yipped, almost bouncing with eagerness.
“Very good. Now tell me who you belong to.”
“You Master! Only y-oooooooh!”
Her pussy seized as his cock slid in, her warmth and ecstasy enveloping him in an instant. The sensation was new, yet Seb felt no surprise. Everything was as it should be. His slave was meant to be enjoyed. And she would please him. It was her purpose.
He explored gradually at first, savoring the way Sophia whimpered and gasped, the way her body responded to his every move, gripping him tightly and beckoning him deeper. He grasped her tits as the pace increased, felt her legs wrap around his back. She came as he tugged her nipples, crying in bliss. Seb grunted, the Vox and pleasure within him surging. He pushed harder, faster, no longer merely fucking his slave, but using her with lustful abandon. Sophia bucked against him, urging him on as orgasms rolled through her bouncing body, animal grunts and joyful squeals breaking with every thrust.
Seb’s breath caught. He could feel it approaching. The crest of the wave. The release. “You Master is going to cum soon,” he said to the moaning thrall beneath him. “And when he does, you will cum with him. Harder and longer than you ever have before. Understand, slave?”
“Yes Master!” Sophia cried. “Please cum inside your slave! Please please please please!”
Her pleading shrieks blended together as his pace increased, the wonderful tension inside him mounting. His lust, his power, his pleasure, the Vox honed it all to a single point, a star ready to collapse and explode.
His cock spasmed. His muscles went rigid. Sophia stiffened, her hips rising off the bed for a moment before a breathless scream tore from her lips. Seb felt himself pour into her, pleasure and relief flooding both of their bodies. He collapsed against her, wrapping her in his arms, pressing her shaking body to his. She kissed his neck, his head, every part of him she could reach. He welcomed her worship, thrilled at the sound of her exhausted breath in his ears, the warmth of her flushed cheeks against his.
“Thank you Master,” she whispered. “Thank you thank you thank you thank—hh!”
Seb shifted. Already the Vox was rising again. His desire was vast. And the night was still young.