Chapter 5

“So that’s the part of the story you all know. The three of you fucked Emily. Good times. So, hey guys, how about a post mortem: What did you think of her? Honestly.”

Nelson shrugged and took a swig, “She wasn’t half bad.”

Adriel looked around to some of the scantily clad ladies then back to Preston.

“Right, of course, mixed company, we’re all gentlemen here,” Preston clapped his hands, “Ladies, please give us the room!”

The women left, their perfect bodies, a parade of flesh that two men watched with interest. Adriel gulped his spit down and waited for Preston to turn back to him. Preston smiled, “Alright boys, it’s just us men now. Tell me the truth, how was she?”

Adriel leaned forward, “Ok, I’ll be honest, if you set this up you knocked it out of the park. She was perfect, life straight out of a fantasy perfect. Classy, rich, and perfect tits.”

Preston quirked a brow, “And her personality?”

He snorted, “Well, to be honest, she was kind of a bitch, but you know what? Getting to fuck her tits and cum all over her face like that - it’s even better if she’s a bitch.”

Preston’s eyebrow arched, but he said nothing and looked to Nelson who was chuckling.

“Hey, I said she was pretty good. Thing is, I thought she was a college student. Next time you do this, get me the real thing, not some used up whore and dress her up as a student.”

Preston remained silent, but Mo spoke up, “Wait, so this was all about giving us our fantasies? Preston, you’re crazy man. Alright, I don’t know how you knew, but I always wanted to fuck a Jewish girl. I figured they’d be crazy in the sack. For at least a day, I thought I banged one. That, my friend, was worth whatever you paid her.” That was met with a few raised glasses. “Okay and yes, I wish she could have been real, but if, skipping the magical woo-woo bullshit, she’s this Emily girl, the truth is that she’s a pretty sick fuck.”

“Sick fuck?” Preston frowned.

“Yeah,” Nelson added, “You mean like great in the sack or fucked in the head.”

Adriel finished, “Why not both?”

“No, let the man speak for himself, Mo’, I’m interested, what did you mean sick fuck?” He leaned in.

Mo looked to the other two, then back to the insistent Preston. There was an edge in his voice that Mo hadn’t heard before and he hesitated. “You know, she’s ... got issues. Messed up in the head. No way I’m going there again.”

“But what if she was controlled to do it,” Preston snapped. “What if she didn’t have a choice?”

Mo scoffed, “You know that’s bullshit, she’s a whore and I probably have an STD now, fucker. But I’ll tell you this, even if everything you said was true, the only thing you did was make her horny. Everything she said - that’s all her brain, and let me tell you, that girl is straight up fucked in the head. If I were you I’d pay in cash, and I’m changing my fucking locks.”

Preston sighed, “Wow. Well boys, I guess that takes us to yesterday. You do want to find out what happened when she came back right?”

Nelson spoke up standing up and imitating Preston, “Gentlemen, she came by, I fucked her brains out then paid her $5000, and now the whore’s coming out for one final encore.”

Preston glared at him pointing two fingers with a flick, Nelson sat down at attention and sealed his mouth shut, “Sit down and shut up, Nelson. The boys want to hear the story.”

Nelson’s eyes darted about in terror, but he remained rigidly still.

Emily’s dreams were just a series of sexual fantasies. They started sweet and romantic, progressively getting more raunchy, until the morning where she was just dreaming about rutting group sex. She woke up wet and dehydrated, sitting in a stain of her own creation.

She wanted more than anything else to get back into bed with Mo and let him defile her again. Her body was craving it like water. Instead, she stole one of his tee shirts. Without her ID or wallet, she had to walk in stripper heels covered mostly by a tee shirt and anonymity. To say she felt humiliated would have been half right. The other half felt every knowing look she got and burned with both humiliation and arousal at their gazes and judgements. Even more the looks from the men whose eyes lingered on her fishnet stocking covered legs. She knew they saw her as a whore, but that wasn’t exactly right. She hadn’t taken the money, so she wasn’t a whore. After four different men in four days, she wasn’t a whore, she was a slut.

She couldn’t help it either, she found herself licking her lips thinking about the bodies of the construction workers sweating as they strained, and imagining them pounding her body. The thoughts weren’t coming clear anymore, she was thick with lust and drunk on humiliation. A few times, she had to stop herself when her thighs quivered at a cat call. That kind of thing used to always fill her with either dread or anger. Fight or flight. But now both options were being replaced with desire. It wasn’t her, she knew it. She wondered what they would do if she would reply, “Yeah, baby, I’d love a good time.”

And she’d be guaranteed to have a good time. Just picturing it, she could feel that delicious itch building up inside. It wasn’t fair, how was she supposed to think straight when all she could think about was hands on her body and delicious violations.

She sat down on a bench to wait for a train, her bottom gave her an exquisite reminder of how much fucking she’d received last night. If it wasn’t for the magic she was sure it would have been painful. Instead she had to stifle a moan and bit her lip.

“Emily?”

‘Oh no,’ her heart dropped into her stomach, ‘please no, not here not now.’ She could take anything, any indignation and just get hotter, but not someone she knew, please not someone she knew.

“Emily? It’s Sarah, remember me?”

Emily looked at her, dressed in yoga pants and a zipped up windbreaker carrying a rolled up mat. She flashed relief that it wasn’t a friend. It was just that realtor. That realtor who sent her to that goddamn club! “You bitch.”

“What? Me? What happened? Didn’t you go to that bar?”

“You did this to me. This is your fault.”

“No way, that’s impossible. Come on, come with me.”

“Oh no, I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Look, something has gone terribly wrong, this should not have happened, but I swear, I can fix this, please come with me.”

Sarah did look really guilty. Emily thought back to the money, and realized, she had no pockets. She had no money for the train she was waiting for anyway. She was screwed six ways to Sunday, but at least she figured if she went with Sarah, she was safe from getting her bones jumped. She decided to go.

Sarah’s apartment was nearby, she’d been on her way to yoga, but Sarah seemed to be more concerned about what had happened.

“Why did you send me to me at the bar?”

“Well, I was hoping that you’d come back to me after being set up as a kept woman, but what happened, you didn’t meet anyone?”

Emily was incredulous. Her aching moistening pussy lips were proof enough that she had met someone, “Oh, I met someone alright, but he was not a good guy, the opposite.”

Sarah prompted her to continue and handed her a glass of water.

“You know what, it’s obvious, you’re not going to believe me when I tell you, but fuck it, I’m done being sane. I met a freak, a monster. I met a mind controller.”

“Oh my god, what did he do?”

“What did he do? You’re going to take it at face value that I met a mind controller?”

Sarah smiled at her, “I’m just going to listen without judging you, okay?”

“Fine, whatever, this entire universe is crazy. Yeah, I met a mind controller and he fucked me so good ... so...” her mind flashed back to the first night, spreading her legs and taking Him inside. “Oh, my god.” She shook it off. “I mean - he did, he did things to me, to my mind.” Emily couldn’t look at Sarah, she was just focused on not thinking about Him but telling the story. “He changed me. With just a thought, he changed me. I tried to fight him, and he let me go, but he said in four days I’d come back, and I’d...” The image of herself kneeling before him as waves of pleasure from his amazing mind thrilled her body and pacified her soul stuck in her head. “B-b-beg to be his slave.” Her voice trailed off so low with the last word she wasn’t sure she’d even said it outloud.

“Oh,” Sarah’s demeanor had changed abruptly and she drew back. “Oh,” she got up and started pacing the room.

“Oh, yeah oh, you knew him didn’t you.”

She shook her head with an angry snarl in her eyes, “I have one question, with whatever he did, are you going to go back and beg to be his slave?”

Emily trembled, at any other moment in the past few days, she would have said ‘Hell no.’ But words echoed in her head from last night. Her own words, she remembered. Vile despicable words that she wouldn’t repeat, but felt in her heart to be true. She couldn’t think them, not now. She was terrified if she gave voice to them again she’d know the truth behind them. Inside the torrent of those words were a truth that she saw float by, ‘I am His slave.’

“Are you going to be his slave or are you going to fight this?”

If she was being honest, she would have said she didn’t know. But there was anger in Sarah’s voice, and if she couldn’t be angry for herself, maybe she could hang on to Sarah’s anger. “Fight,” she said unconvincingly.

“Listen you stay right here, I am going to fix this, I have a phone call to make. No, you know what, I’m not even going to bother with that,” she typed furiously in her phone for a few seconds and hit send. “There’s been a great injustice here, I am going to bleeping rectify it. Also, go to my room, take a shower, put some clothes on.”

“I don’t think I’ll fit.”

“Then put a robe on, I don’t care. Just ... uuuugh. I’m not mad at you, I’m just livid right now. Just go, go get cleaned up.”

Emily did, and for a few moments she felt a bit of relief. Despite her growing arousal and several near orgasms she had from just washing in the shower, she at least felt hopeful. Sarah hadn’t said it or shown anything, but Emily was working up fantasy scenarios like crazy.

Maybe Sarah was also a mind controller and Preston was supposed to be a good boy, but he screwed up. Maybe there was a whole organization of mind controllers like the superhero movies, and he was a super villain. Maybe he was double crossed the wrong person and he was about to get his just deserts. Even better, maybe Sarah was a mind controller and she could undo what he’d done to her so that she wasn’t thinking about how much the end of the vanity chair looked like a cock and what it would feel like to rub her hot moist, ‘STOP IT!’ Emily tied on the robe and walked out to see Sarah pacing.

There was a knock at the door, to which Sarah shot back in annoyance, “It’s unlocked!”

Emily’s heart stopped. The door opened and He was there.

“It’s about goddamn time, Preston,” Sarah cursed. Emily’s eyes gaped - maybe it was true, maybe Sarah could save her.

“Sarah, I’m glad you messaged me-”

“Don’t Sarah me, this is bullpuckey, and you know it.”

“Sarah please-”

“I said, don’t Sarah me, she is not going to be your house cunt. You promised, we made a deal! And for the love of Pete, call me by my proper name.”

“Fine, I’ll call you Kittyslave but you need to calm down,” he explained apologetically. Emily’s heart skipped a beat and a wave of nausea struck her.

“I will not calm down, I’ve been serving you faithfully and not calling you master even once, not even in private. I was supposed to be your next house cunt. Me, not this random useless trash! She went straight to being a whore and guess what, she still doesn’t want to be your devoted slave. She’s still fighting you. Throw her to the gutter, be a man of your word and break me!”

Emily hit the wall behind her. She’d been backing up steadily, but the only way out was through Him. She couldn’t move. Sarah hadn’t been angry because Emily was going to be made into a slave. She was angry because she wasn’t!

Preston threw his hands up in the air with a laugh, “Fine, you win. Kittyslave, get on your knees and service me.”

Sarah’s face went from furious to smitten in a split second. She fell upon her knees muttering many thank-you’s and focused on freeing his rod from his pants. The soft length of it popped into view, the sight making Emily moan in lust. Her hands found their way to her nipples and her robe fell open.

Preston looked to her, “And you, my sweet sweet Emily. It’s time for your last gift.”

She felt him push against her mind. She strained to fight against it, as hopeless as she knew it would be. She felt him probing over and over again. She gasped relief when she felt him withdraw.

“Kittyslave, stop for a second.”

“No, oh no no,” Emily turned to try to find a window to go out of, when she felt him shove against her mind again. This time, she couldn’t keep him out as he connected to her core again. It was much deeper this time. In fact, she felt curiously out of body, as if she was hovering above herself watching herself.

She saw her hands reach up to her lips, and when her fingers touched them, ‘Oh good heavens.’ It was her next gift. Her lips pulsed with the same delightful pleasure of her now permanently dripping pussy. She saw herself lick her lips and realized her tongue now felt like an oversized clitoris. ‘Oh dear god.’ She watched her body walk over to Him and kneel beside Kittyslave.

In a rush, Emily felt herself drawn back into her body. She was even more fully aware now of all the different parts of her flesh that craved Him who stood before her. Sarah looked at her with hatred in her eyes.