eur 19
Last update
2020-10-20 04:11:34

    One at a Time

    It couldn’t be happening. It was absurd, impossible. Even if–Maura’s mind shied away from the thought, unable to believe even the obvious evidence of her senses and memories if it meant that what the stranger was describing was true–but even if there was some slight, tentative basis for the claims of the mysterious man who’d led her and Haley into one of the guest bedrooms, there was no way that he could genuinely do any of the things he’d threatened to do to them. Someone would find them, or, or Haley would snap out of it, or Maura would manage to wriggle her way out of the ropes that kept her bound on her knees at the foot of the bed. It couldn’t really happen the way he described. It simply couldn’t.

    But… Haley didn’t look like she was snapping out of it. If anything, she looked like she was sinking deeper into the stranger’s mysterious, inexplicable control; her face was contorted in anguished pleasure, her eyes squeezed tightly shut and her mouth wide in a silent wail of mindless ecstasy as her controller pushed his cock into her asshole as easily as he’d insinuated his way into the halls of the country estate. “That’s it, baby girl,” he purred, thrusting his hips rapidly back and forth, his eyes on Haley’s bare breasts as they jiggled in the cutouts in the latex straitjacket she wore. “Feel that resistance crumbling away forever. No more will, no more thought, just Master’s power.” As much as Maura wanted to believe that any second her wealthy friend would reassert her independence and pull free, it didn’t seem to be happening.

    And once he was finished with Haley, Maura knew that she would be next. He hadn’t told her in so many words–he hadn’t said a thing, in fact, since he fixed his smoldering gaze on her and instructed her to hold still while he tied her hand and foot to the bedpost–but it only made sense. Her memories of the walk down the long corridor into the spare bedroom were hazy, filled with a fog that couldn’t be explained away without resorting to the rationale that Maura simply refused to accept, but she knew she’d felt her thoughts fade and clear multiple times over the course of their interaction with the stranger. If he really could… do what he said… then he could only do it to one of them at a time. Maura only had as long as his attention was on Haley to find a way to stop this.

    But the ropes were tied expertly, and Haley was fading fast. Already Maura could hear her moaning and whimpering under her breath, repeating the stranger’s words in a strained whisper that only grew more devoted as his cock pounded her asshole. It was no good screaming; Haley’s parents were out of town for the weekend, and the guest bedrooms were hundreds of feet away from anyone who might hear. “Fight it, you bitch!” Haley shouted, hoping to at least stir her friend to some kind of effort at fighting the potent mental energy that was sapping her will, but Haley only seemed to hear her Master now. Her legs spread wider and wider, desperate to take in more of the thrusting shaft that sealed the stranger’s control of her mind.

    Then, with a final choked wail of euphoric bliss, Haley sagged onto the bed. Her body went limp. Her eyes opened, but only the whites showed. “She’s all done,” the stranger said, pulling his cock out of her ass. Maura could see a trickle of semen slowly trickling from her anus. “Once they get my come, I don’t have to concentrate to control them anymore. It simply happens.” He smiled cruelly at Maura. “It’s going to take me a little while to get ready for another go, but I don’t think you’ll mind. Will you, pretty girl?” He fixed his smoldering gaze on Maura, and the last thought that passed through her head before the fog in her brain made thinking impossible was that it was all real after all. Then her will faded away into her new Master’s firm, inescapable control and she knew nothing else.

    (Like this flash fiction? Want to see more? Visit https://www.patreon.com/Jukebox or drop me a tip at https://ko-fi.com/jukebox if you like my work!)


    “Quick lick all that dirt off before they come back” my new master says to me as I bring my tongue to his foot. This is what I get for picking truth during our game of truth or dare. I picked truth twice in a row and that’s what led to me licking dirt off of Adam’s soles. My first question was “who here do you think is the most attractive?”. Out of my friends I picked Adam of course. His hot muscular body and perfectly plump feet made him irresistible to slaves like me. My second question was “what’s your fetish?” I immediately turned red at this and slowly answered that I have a thing for feet. Everyone laughed except for Adam who just smirked to himself quietly. After that everyone went outside to smoke except Adam and I cause he smoked outside earlier and I don’t smoke. Adam looked over and said “so are you serious about that foot fetish thing?”. I nervously look up at him and say “uhh yeah super embarrassing I know”. He shrugs and says “well when I was smoking earlier I was barefoot so could you be a gem and lick all the dirt that collected there?”. My eyes widen instinctively and my heart starts racing. He loses his patience a little as he says “hurry before they get back”. I bring my tongue to his sole and lick all the way up to the toe before sticking it in my mouth. I suck on his toe as he moans quietly to himself. “Ahhhh fuck that feels good. Maybe you could be my personal feet cleaner. Wait don’t forget to get all that shit from between my toes”. I immediately stick my tongue through each gap between his toes collecting dirt and alpha sweat on my tongue. He leans forward and rubs my head like a dog “aweee good boy” he says in a degrading tone. “That’s enough for now though slave but you’re sleeping in my room tonight so get ready. My feet are gonna be on your face all night. Don’t whine boy I know you love it”.


    Ow I definitely would love it!!!

    The Businessman

     Sorry about the hiatus, college has made me a bit busier than expected.

    “Welcome!” the Businessman began cheerily, motioning toward the slideshow behind him. The other three men in the room did not seem to have the same level of enthusiasm the presenter had, each fidgeting with their phones and binders as they checked to see how long this meeting had left. The first was drinking from the glass of water provided, the second looked unamused at the entire event, and the third was yawning in the back.

    “I assume you gentlemen are all very busy today,” the Businessman continued, his British accent slicing through every syllable. “So I’ll be making this seminar efficient and short.”

    “Let meuh get this straight,” the first man interrupted, a Savannah accent drawing out his words. “Y’all wan tus to inves tin a resort? That’sa all?”

    “That’s correct, sir.”

    “And why,” began the second man, obviously a Chicagoan. “Should we be interested in what you’re selling?”

    “Because it’s more than just profit,” the Businessman proposed as the second man took a drink from his glass. “This resort helps solve an international crisis that has still yet to come to media attention.”

    “Really?” the third man asked, suddenly intrigued. “You believe you’ve caught onto a problem not even publicized yet?”

    “Correct,” the Businessman smiled as the third man leaned back in his chair. “You see, each of you has a common problem you have yet to realize, and I’m here to not only identify it, but rid you of it.”

    “That’sa bold claim,” the first snarked.

    “I’d agree to that,” the second offered.

    “Well, come on now,” the third piped in, his mood differing from the previous two men. “Are you going to leave us hanging or what?” 

    The Businessman smirked at the common New-Yorker, chuckling to himself as he formally began the presentation.

    “You’re problem is simply one word: Americans.”

    The Businessman paused to get a look at the room. Each member shared a similar face of complete bewilderment.

    “Excuse me?” the second asked.

    “You heard me,” the Businessman clarified. “Americans are loud, obnoxious, and simply believe they’re the prime cut of meat. They don’t think about others, they don’t respect the resources they’re given, and, if I may be so frank, they are the filth that corrupt our planet.”

    “Y’all… know who yeur talkin too, right?” The first looked like he was going to have a stroke.

    “Well, of course!” the Businessman feigned astonishment. “It is for that reason I’m showing you specific gentlemen my proposal, as I know this is something you’ll sign onto.

    “Oh, really?” the third rolled his eyes.

    “Precisely,” the Businessman. “But instead of telling you about my solution, how about I show you.”

    The Businessman clicked the remote to the second slide, showcasing the first video attachment.

    “You see,” he began again. “My resort will offer many amenities to solve the growing crisis. When walking into this project, my simple question was, ‘How can we get rid of these pesky Americans without literally ridding of them? It seems pretty complicated at first, but then an idea came to me. Why not diminish the American population while growing others?”

    “This first example looks at a method I’ve plainly named ‘Photocorrections.’ In this easy process, a staff member asks a vacationer to act as a model for a promotion photo of the resort. The staff member snaps a picture and our specially-manufactured cameras instantly manipulate the image. After a few moments, both the picture and the vacationer are effectively erased of their American essence and replaced with a new, foreign identity. In this video, we will watch an example with an average college student as our client.”

    The Businessman clicked the slide and the video booted up. On the screen showed a single man who looked to be about 20. His fairly pale skin was hidden behind a baggy university tee and gray running shorts. He didn’t look athletic, but he also didn’t seem overweight. Looking at his body language, the college student was both nervous and confused, probably as to why he had been chosen to model. His constant twitching made the green screen behind him gently sway back and forth.

    “Are you ready?” a polite voice asked from behind the camera. It was British, but not as properly posh as the Businessman.

    “Um, sure?” the college student lied.

    “Very good,” the cameraman replied. “I’m just going to ask a few questions before we begin, all for paperwork and tax requirements of course. Is that alright?”

    “Oh, yeah definitely.”

    “Alright, your name?”

    “Paul Larson.”



    “Higher Education?”

    “Working on a Bachelor’s degree at…” Paul pointed a finger to his shirt timidly. A low chuckle was picked up by the camera audio before they continued.

    “Grade Point Average?”

    “Uh… 3.9?”



    “More specifically?”

    “Is that really important?” Paul replied back. He wasn’t becoming impatient, he was just confused as to the subject’s significance.

    “Yes, we want to see how your advertisement could compare to those who identify differently.

    “Oh, alright,” he blinked. “I guess you can put down West Virginian.”

    “And three words that define yourself.”

    “Educated, responsible, and… I don’t know, content?”

    “That’s perfect.”

    The cameraman stepped out from behind and presented his clipboard to the camera, showcasing everything he’d written down. Next, he placed the clipboard down on a stool and grabbed a separate device. The new item was much bulkier than a regular camera, needing to tripods to help it stand up straight. After a few more adjustments, a final click alerted that the device was ready.

    “I’m just going to take a test shot, the flash might be a little bright.”

    Paul sat idly in his seat, fiddling with his thumbs as he looked around for something to entertain him until the cameraman was ready. With a little smirk, the cameraman pushed down a button quickly. The room flooded with white light for a split second, completely blinding the video for a moment before returning back to the room. After the camera refocused on the screen, each of the three men in the room let out a small gasp.

    The exact same spot where the college student had sat was now filled with a handsome and muscular young man. Some of his traits were more obvious, like how his well-built figure showed that he worked out fairly often, or how his tight polo and miniature khaki shorts displayed he was fairly wealthy. Other factors about the man needed more in-depth research. By the amount of flexing happening anyone could tell the man was very arrogant, and the sunglasses did nothing to hide the dull, intellectually-lacking eyes.

    After the cameraman had finished shutting down the camera, he grabbed the clipboard once again and presented it to the camera. The businessman watched eagerly as the three sets of eyes grew with astonishment. Although it was obvious in the video that the clipboard hadn’t moved, all of the answers had completely changed. To further prove the point, the cameraman sat down and re-questioned the man, making sure to keep the clipboard visible in the video.

    “I’m just going to ask a few questions before I let you go, all for paperwork and tax requirements of course.” The cameraman smirked as he readjusted himself in his seat. “Is that alright?”

    “Oui, de-feeneatly.” The newly-adopted accent slurred almost every vowel elegantly.

    “Alright, your name?”

    “Pierre Laurent.”



    “Higher Education?”

    “Vaht’s tat?” Pierre guffawed. “I am sociuhl meadiuh modell; I duhn’t need school.”

    “Grade Point Average-” the cameraman readjusted his question. “when you last attended an educational institution?”

    “Uh… Vah tis it ven you ‘ave uhll C’s?”

    “A 2.0?” the cameraman asked, pointing out the answer on the clipboard to the camera.

    “Ah! Oui.”


    “Francais, of course.”

    “More specifically?”

    “Parisian. Can you not tell frrom the peecturre I submeetted?” Pierrel snarked back. He was becoming impatient, focusing more on himself than the questions.

    “Of course,” the cameraman responded smoothly. “I just wanted to confirm. Finally, what are three words that define yourself.”

    “Sexy, ‘andsome, attrractive, ‘ot, juhck, atlete, reech, funny, popoolar-”

    “Can you narrow that down to three?”

    “Vatever tee firrst tree vere.”

    “That’s perfect.” The cameraman tilted the clipboard to show that the three answers listed were the first three Pierre responded with.

    “Alrright, ees terre anyting else you need frrom me? I’ve got to go leeft à la gymnase.”

    “No, that’ll be all. Thank you again.”


    Pierre immediately left the frame, his huge feet creating pounding echoes that bounced around the room. Once the sound of a door closing had passed, the cameraman walked out of the frame as well and turned the video off.

    “Before we continue, here is the picture that was ‘submitted’ by our model.”


    “As you can see, the image was modified by camera to completely and efficiently erase the American. The device offers over 300 different filters, each of which can be given add-ons with additional features.”

    The first two men seemed completely dazed, their eyes glassed over from any emotion. The third however was completely bewildered, almost shaking in his seat with fright over the video. Before he had a chance to speak, the Businessman continued.

    “We will now move onto our next video. Please hold all questions until the end.”

    The third man straightened himself out, taking a sip from his glass as he cautiously relaxed back into his seat. The Businessman smiled as he swiftly moved to the next slide, this one holding another video.

    “I believe you’re all familiar with how projects are made. Collection of parts, assembling in factories, and practically everything ends up on a conveyor built in China. The Chinese, who have already funded this project, cleverly figured out how to play off of this idea for my resort. If we wanted to shrink the American population, we’d have to do it quickly and efficiently like an ideal business model. Therefore, this next method is deemed ‘Mass Zhouduction,’ named after the Zhou Dynasty.”

    The second video began, focusing the camera on what looked to be the side of a waterslide. It was a fairly simple shot: a 45-year-old white male sitting at the top of the slide, his red boardshorts swishing back and forth in the current as it rushed down. The camera was attached to some kind of drone, circulating back and forth waiting for the man to go. 

    “Ar’ ya ready?” the lifeguard asked, his British accent having a more country slang.

    “Yes, sir!”

    “Then go righ tahead and launch yaself.”


    The man’s excited holler quickly disappeared as he shot down the slide. The drone quickly followed along, making sure to capture every second. The slide itself was fairly large, but it would only take a grown man about 20 seconds to hit the bottom pool. 

    As the water pushed the man forward, the three men silently watched as the changes began. First, the man’s height drastically decreased as he shrunk inwards. His loose skin pulled inwards and firm against his pulsing muscles, each of which slowly expanded outwards. The man’s beer gut evaporated as his stomach collapsed inwards, creating a beautiful v-shape with a sturdy six pack of abs. Once the chest had finished, the arms and legs followed suit, forming small but powerful biceps, triceps, quadriceps, and calves.

    Now about halfway down the slide, the man was pushed into a tunnel with a glass ceiling. Thanks to the drone’s expensive lenses, the three men could continue watching the man as he slid downwards. Inside the tunnel were three gates delicately dropping water, mimicking waterfalls. The man flew through the first, shaving off 25 years in the instant and shrinking his boardshorts into a speedo. Once he had gone through the second, his body hair had shed away and the top of his head had grown voluptuous black bangs. It took the man a few moments to slide out of the tunnel and through the third gate, tanning his skin to a rich caramel color and giving him a bone structure more familiar to East Asia.

    After a few more seconds the man reached the end of the slide. The video shortly ended afterwards on the screen, stopping on the newly-created man.


    “Isn’t it just wonderful?” the Businessman began again. “Thanks to some of China’s top scientists, this one-of-a-kind waterslide can create young, virile Chinese men in half of a minute!”

    The three men were completely emotionless. The only noticeable movement they had made during the entire process was taking slow sips from their drinks.

    “The only catch with the deal is that the slide will only recreate Chinese genetics, but I do not believe anyone will mind it. They are the fastest growing population anyway, so a spurt will be unnoticeable.”

    The Businessman continued, “Now this final piece is my favorite operation so far, deemed ‘Korrektur’ by the Germans. A long-running annoyance with Americans is their desire to be unique compare to the rest of the planet. Metric system versus Imperial, Celsius versus Fahrenheit, or in this situation, football versus soccer. This process is fascinating as it is not only a conversion, but a source of profit.”

    The Businessman turned the remote in his hand to click to the next slide. “In this video, we will see one of the many leisurely activities offered to resort goers, and its immediate results.”

    The video booted up, displaying a taller man standing in front of a whiteboard. Through the camera’s frame, one couldn’t see exactly what the man was reading, but it was fairly obvious he wasn’t particularly interested.

    “So I’m just supposed to run up the field… here?”

    “Exactly,” the coach responded, his British as polished as the Businessman’s.

    “I’ve never played soccer before, is that alright?”

    “You must be out of college and you’ve never played football?”

    “28,” the man stated. “And yeah?”

    “I see,” the coach responded. “Well then, I’d like you to get some facts drilled into your head to get you into a proper mindset. Start reading the lines out loud on the whiteboard.”

    “Really?” the man asked hesitantly. “I don’t speak German.”

    “That’s completely understandable, but just try it anyhow,” the coach replied smoothly. “Trust me, it always works.”

    “So much for a ‘leisure activity’.” The man looked at the whiteboard and took a deep breath.

    Ich liebe Fußball, Fußball ist mein Leben.”

    The man suddenly twitched violently in his stance. After repositioning himself, he stood much straighter and with more confidence.

    Ich habe mein ganzes Leben lang Fußball gespielt, und seit 18 Jahren Fußball,” he recited uncomfortably, murdering the language. “Deshalb bin ich 18 Jahre alt.”

    The man spasmed again, this time a little more intense. Once he had finished, a few noticeable changes had been made. For one, he had shrunk about two inches, lost 30 pounds, and regained a little baby fat. He’d also lost some of the timbre in his voice, giving him a much more youthful tone.

    Ich bin ein Fußballstar, Fußball definiert, wer ich bin.”

    Following this statement and a few trembles, the boy had changed drastically. Large biceps and triceps filled the sleeve of his new team jersey, and two juicy pecs helped push out the Nike symbol. Defined buttocks pushed at one end of the running shorts while an exaggeratedly-sized pouch fought at the other. Monstrous calves were hidden behind two long black socks which covered everything from the knees to the massive cleated feet.

    Ich bin ein Schotte, und Schotten sind dumm. Deshalb bin ich dumm.”

    There wasn’t a perceptible change after the shiver this time, besides the dull, lifeless eyes and the fact the boy could now only breathe with his mouth open.

    Ich gewinne immer Fußball und Deutsch gewinnt immer Fußball. Deshalb muss ich Deutsch sein.”

    As soon as the words had left the boy’s mouth and the twitching had finished, anyone would be able to pinpoint the new changes. First off, the boy’s hair had been flipped into a beautiful, short blond cut. His jawline and cheekbones had grown more pronounced while his lips had shrunk. His voice had also deepened, causing his Adam’s apple to become more prominent. Lastly, the rest of his body had bulked up again, making him now the same height as when the transformation had started.

    Looking back at the whiteboard, the boy easily read the final phrase, the German rolling off his tongue effortlessly.

    Ich bin ein Fußballspieler, und Fußballspieler gehorchen dem Trainer. Deshalb muss ich dem Trainer gehorchen.”

    “Brilliant!” the coach’s voice popped up from outside of the screen once more. “Do you believe you are ready to play now?”

    “Ja,” the boy grunted back, reading over the whiteboard once more. The Businessman paused the video, ending the slideshow on the image of the boy. 


    “Thanks to the German’s advanced technology, the whiteboard is enhanced with simple micro-robotics to help enforced the phrases into the reader’s head. The whole process is similar to hypnosis and self-fulfilling prophecies. Not only do we rid of Americans, but this specific process will quickly expand the European and international football marketplaces.”

    The Businessman took a deep breath to regain himself, the presentation having now ended,

    “What do you gentlemen think? Is my resort worth the investment?”

    The Businessman looked around the room coyly, beaming a giant smile.

    “Let meyuh get tis strraight,” the first man replied, a Lyonnais accent sharpening his words. Pushing his brown locks back into place, he almost knocked over his empty glass. “You van tus to eenves teen a rresort? Tat ees uhll?”

    “That’s correct, sir.”

    “Ahnd why,” began the second man, obviously from Bejing. “Should whe beh eenteyuhested in whatuh yeuh are selling?”

    “Because it’s more than just profit,” the Businessman proposed, noticing the second man had finished his drink too. “This resort helps solve an international crisis that has still yet to come to media attention.”

    “Rreuhlly?” the third man asked, suddenly intrigued. “Dah yeuh haveuh aneh morre ideauhs for pahssible sahlutions if we invesd?”

    “We are in the final testings stages of a few more methods, yes, and by the end of this meeting I’ll be able to tell you if the prototypes have proven successful.”

    “Tat ees a bold claim,” the first snarked.

    “I’d uhgee to tat,” the second offered.

    “Vell, cahme ahn nahw,” the third piped in, his mood differing from the previous two men. “Ahre you gahing to leave us ‘anging orr vhat?” 

    The businessman smirked at the common Berliner, chuckling to himself as he formally began the presentation.

    “Why don’t you finish your glass, sir, and then I can let you know.”

    The three men chuckled between themselves merrily, knowing this investment was to be one of their best.


    Short Story: My Boss Changed, So Have I


    Everything was fine before my boss went on his overseas business trip. He was kind yet firm, which helped us both make the most out of each work day. As a team, we managed to accomplish more than most in the firm.

    And to be fair, that didn’t change. We are still very efficient as a team.

    It’s just that…

    Ever since he came back from his trip, our work relationship changed. Or… Evolved? I’m not quite sure how to describe how it is now. The only way I can is to say that he seems to feel a burning need to…


    mc-diaries tags: Female’s Point of View, Special Powers



    I haven’t been going to work since this rubber suit locked itself on me. Was it four or five days since I picked up that purple chew toy?

    They are knocking so loudly now. Must be those workmates checking up on me. I don’t want to be seen like this, but there is a voice inside of me that wants to show off the ‘new me’ to them. I…can
    t decide…

    a quicky drawin


    “Your slutty girlfriend’s self-control lasted mere minutes after I started seducing her. I knew she’d be easy, but I thought she’d at least try and put up a fight. Clearly she’d been waiting for someone like me to come along and make her fantasies a reality. She’s such a sweet, innocent girl… She really didn’t want to betray you, but once I was in her head there was no stopping me from exerting my will over hers. She eventually became desperate and needy every time I mentioned how she could help me manipulate and control you. She was more than eager to start making you edge every night. Yes, that’s right. It was I who instructed her to “spice up” your sex life with edging to her. Worshipping her body has made you so much more devoted to my lovely little slut. And now that I’m here, you know who really has the power. You will obey my commands like she does, won’t you?”

    “I’m not so sure that—”

    “Slave,” says your girlfriend, in between ragged breaths and involuntary moans. “You will edge for my Queen. Worship her, now!”

    Instantly your cock hardened, and you assumed your worship position—on your knees, naked. Your hand automatically stroked up and down your obedient shaft as it throbbed at your owner’s instructions.

    “Such a good boy for my loyal slut, aren’t you,” cooed the woman.

    Smilingly evilly, she knew that everything had gone exactly as planned. The young couple’s Queen walked her girl over to you and eased your mouth onto the slut’s pussy. You instinctively serviced your girlfriend’s pussy as you’d been trained to do for so many weeks.

    “I’m so glad I could use my experience to improve your relationship, my sluts. You’ll be forever attached to each other, and this will benefit both of you. And, most importantly, it will benift me, your new owner.”

    You Will Be

    Note: This is a fantasy. I’m not currently looking for more submissives. But you’re welcome to be caught up in the fantasy.

    You will be taken. Whether you struggle or surrender, you will feel my grip on you, body and mind.

    You will be stripped. Every last scrap of mundane clothing, every last hair, every last preconception and illusion, every sense of self – all go into the purifying fire.

    You will be modifi
    ed. Perhaps I’ll stick with permanent makeup. Maybe I’ll make your skin my canvas and cover you with ornate tattoos, or a crass declaration of my ownership. I might opt for surgeries if you could use to be a little rounder here or there. And piercings, for both chastity and my personal amusement, certainly remain options. But once I’m done, you won’t be able to recognize yourself, and neither will anyone else.

    You will be rubberized. A full-body clear latex catsuit – zipless, hooded, gloved, and toe-socked, but with openings for your mouth, eyes, nipples, and ass, is as naked as you will get.

    You will be layer
    ed. Atop your catsuit, I will dress you in latex gloves and stockings and a proper tightlacing latex corset and a cupless underwire bra and a second hood, all matched and suiting my mood. I might embellish with a bolero and a pencil skirt with a spanking window – must keep the tits and ass available, after all!

    You will be he
    lpless. When I’m feeling charitable, you will wear latex bondage mitts and ballet wedges. When I’m feeling less charitable, I will lock a monoglove and stiletto ballet heels onto you. When I’m eager for amusement, I will strap your limbs together. And when I want you to be still, you will be well-locked in steel.

    You w
    ill be gagged. Usually, I will settle for an appropriately sized ring gag and a rubber bladder to keep your mouth full. Your jaw will ache at first. You will become accustomed to it. Which means I will need to change to a larger gag when I want you to suffer more.

    You wil
    l be senseless. I shall glue noise-reducing earbuds into your ears, and when I’m not relaying orders to you through them, you will hear the squeaks and moans of rubber sex. When I don’t need you to see, you won’t. I might make you wear a VR headset and play hypnosis videos and latex porn for hours, but most of the time you’ll be blindfolded. You will be intubated to eat – usually, through a long, hollow dildo, so you can practice deepthroating at the same time. I may rubberize your mouth and even run rubber tubes through your sinuses if I think you enjoy the tastes and smells of sex too much. Every sensation, however painful or pleasurable, is mine to give or take.

    You will be tortured. I might make a game of it, choosing implements and strokes on rolls of the dice. Or maybe I’ll experiment with new ways to make your nerves scream and your body shake. It won’t be punishment. It will be your passion.

    You will be desperate. Chastity devices – on top of chastity piercings or by themselves – will be your endlessly frustrating companion, and I will take full advantage of the situation by making you horny at every opportunity. Perhaps I’ll attach a good, strong vibrator right to the chastity device and see how much agony I can exact before you break. Don’t expect to come unless I want to watch you come. And be careful of what you wish for. When I do want to watch you come, I want to watch for a long time.

    You will be slutty. As your mind breaks under the constant overwhelming, I will teach you to embrace your mouth and ass as toys to be played with. You will come to appreciate and worship every bit of flesh pressed against, or pushed into, your greedy suckhole. Your ass will always have something in it. Buttplugs, fingers, dildos, cocks, perhaps even fists in time. And you will come to love it.

    You will be displayed. When not in use, expect to be prominently locked up wherever I might be spending my evening. I might use you as furniture, or simply decoration. I’m sure that with the right set of restraints, you’d make a lovely statue, or serving tray, or footstool.

    You will be used. Your prime function now is as a fucktoy. Most days, I’ll settle for shoving my toes down your throat until I’m ready to come, then force you to go down on me until I do, then crop your ass before I give it a nice long fucking. Or I might take you to the local dungeon and invite guests to take turns having their way with you. I could even turn a vacation into an orgy, just to see how depraved I can make you be with a little help from some eager friends.

    You will be grateful. Your old life is gone. Your identity has been torn away. Your belief in free will for yourself is exposed as a lie. Your last resistance is gone. All that will be left is the hope that you bring pleasure to others. You will cling to that hope, as you cling to my legs when I allow a moment of tenderness. You will want to thank me – if I ever let you speak again.