The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The rest of the weekend and well into the next week, DJ and Ashley hardly left their hotel room. It had been her idea, getting away from campus for a while, and he had to admit it had been a good one. He’d been having this lingering anxiety this past week, and couldn’t pinpoint where it came from. After all, objectively, he had an amazing life. More sex than he could handle with a variety of beautiful women, no financial troubles, great work conditions, lots of leisure time…

Yet he felt it.

They had driven into the city from their relatively small college town only an hour or so away, but what a difference an hour made. The city had everything—culture, entertainment, sites, places to get dinner after ten… Ashley was actually an urbanite herself—albeit from another city—and had always resented the quaint little town she was forced to go to school in.

Of course, if you never left your room, it didn’t seem to make much difference where your hotel was. They ordered room service for meals, soaked in the jacuzzi, rented pay-per-view, and just… a new couple. DJ was struck by it, having only moderate experience with relationships, and hardly any with such physical ones. They kissed, they groped, they cuddled—and they fucked like dogs in heat.

DJ fucked her in the shower, fucked her in the bed, fucked her on the floor, fucked her in the jacuzzi, fucked her in front of the window while she waved at admirers across the street. He fucked her pussy, fucked her tits, and fucked her mouth more times than he could count. Every time they were gearing up again, she pounced on his dick lips-first, like a snow-fox with a delicious mouse.

As they lie watching a weird little super hero movie with that nerdy guy from The Office, naked but at ease, DJ decided to ask. “Ashley? Do you really like giving blowjobs that much?”

She grinned at him. “What, you don’t like receiving them that much?”

“No, I do—believe me, I do. Your mouth is a godsend.”

“Just my mouth?” She pouted, lifting the sheets to look down at her epic rack. G cups, he’d finally learned. To his shame, DJ had naively thought D was as big as the measuring system went. (He’d heard the term double-D, but he’d figured that was just hyperbole.)

He smiled, and helped himself to an affectionate grope. “All of you—but… c’mon, you know what I meant. But seriously. You always go for it with your mouth.”

“Well maybe it’s not my favorite thing,” she admitted reluctantly, “but I’m really fucking good at it, and I want to make you happy. That’s the part I like best.” There it was again, that sweet smile of hers. He couldn’t help but kiss her.

“Besides,” she went on, “most guys find my incessant sassing handily solved by plugging my mouth with a dick, you asshole.” She giggled. “See what I mean?”

“I like hearing you talk. You’re… authentic.”

“Authentic?” He nodded. “Don’t stop there—explain yourself.”

“Well, you know my ability and all. Lots of people, I can tell how they behave differently towards me. Deferential. Not you, though. You just say what’s on your mind. With you, it’s like I’m—we’re—almost… normal, I guess.”

She frowned. “You’re saying you’d rather be normal?”

“No—I’m not ignorant, I know I’ve got a good thing here. But it’s nice to have someone be good to me without it being because of the power. Or directly, anyway.”

Ashley’s face froze. “You think I’m only with you because of your gift?”

“Hey, relax, I didn’t mean it as an insult. I just meant it has a lot to do with how we hooked up is all—you know, in the lounge, in the dining hall. That’s all. I trust you, Ashley. You should know that by now.”

She relaxed again, and kissed him. “You should, you fucker. I’m the second-best thing that’s ever gonna happen to you.”

“A very close second, mind you.”

“Hey! You were supposed to correct me. So much for the blowjob I was about to give you.”

“Oh good, I wanted to do your ass this time anyway.”

Ashley paused a moment, then nodded. He recognized the shift in her demeanor, the sudden disappearance of her enthusiasm as it was replaced by mildly grudging acceptance. Then, without a word, the redhead raised herself to her hands and knees, waving her big ass in his direction. “All righty then, let’s do this.”

DJ smiled to himself as he gave himself a few quick pumps to get him hard enough—Ashley’s bare ass and instant submission had done most of it in mere seconds—and got up behind her. He put his tip right at her tightly puckered rear entrance… then shifted down and slid into her pussy.

Ashley moaned in relief and delight as he took her broad hips in his hands and started drilling her cunt. “I thought you were really going to do it, you asshole!”

“Nah, I just like to tease you every now and then. I’d never take advantage of you, Ashley.”

“Again, you mean,” she said between groans. She bucked her hips back to meet his thrusts.

It was a wonderful two days and three nights in the hotel room. At Ashley’s urging—and to give herself some entertainment—she scared up a few extra pussies for him. They hired a masseuse; Ashley evidently knew how to find the kind that dealt in happy endings. His new girlfriend convinced her she was amply compensated just by the experience and didn’t even need money.

Their second night, she invited in the pretty Indian girl who was working at reception and had DJ fuck her. “Thank you so much for your business, and I very much hope you enjoy your stay, sir,” she said cordially afterwards. Ashley kicked her out the door buck naked, tossing her clothes out behind her.

She was a lot of fun, though sometimes, he wished she were a little nicer to people.

Finally, DJ decided it was time to get back to school. For the first time he could remember, he was genuinely excited to return to his life from a vacation. He had a lot to look forward to, after all. Still, he knew a conversation was in order.

“Ashley,” he said during the drive back, his new hybrid car whirring not-quite-silently down the highway, “I’ve been thinking a lot about us these past few days, and I think we should talk about some things before we get back.”

“Yeah, I wondered when you’d go there. You want to talk about your little harem, right?”

He sighed. It was true. One of DJ’s first acts upon realizing his power was to rewrite the rules on his floor. He showered with the girls on his floor (and once one of his guy’s girlfriend), slept with them (literally, figuratively, sometimes both), sometimes just took a few minutes to ogle and fondle under the auspices of “dress code inspection.”

Moreover, there was Brittney, and there was Emily.

“Yeah, that’s pretty much it. I want to start by saying I like you, Ashley, and that I’ve never thought of myself as a hypocrite. Whatever behavioral expectations I have for you as my girlfriend, I want to abide by them myself. I promise—”

“Keep ‘em.”

He stopped short. Then he nearly side-swiped a semi in the right lane as he looked at her goggle-eyed. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I said, ‘keep ‘em.’ Which I already said at game night, and twice more this weekend. Now that you’re done babbling, and trying to kill us, let me go on to explain my conditions.”

“No conditions, Ashley. I don’t want a girlfriend who sleeps with a bunch of other guys, and I won’t do that to you in return.”

“Do you remember Sigrid the masseuse? That receptionist with the unpronounceable name? Remember me bringing them in and playing with myself while you banged their brains out?”

“Um, yeah.”

“I get off on watching almost as much as I get off being watched, Deej. Not too quick on the uptake on that, are ya?” She tsked at him. “You’re only young once, and you’re freaking supernaturally gifted to boot. Use your gift—this thing you have was meant to be used, for fuck’s sake, not ignored because your giny started tingling over me.”

DJ considered, ignoring her spite. “How do I know that’s not just the power making you say that? That you’re not just putting up with it?”

“Well first off, you know I would put up with it, so let’s not kid ourselves. That being said, if I were actually so totally cowed by you, I wouldn’t have my conditions.”

He smiled a little. That actually reassured him somewhat. “All right, conditions. Go ahead.”

“First—I want veto power on a case by case basis. I don’t like a bitch, you don’t touch a bitch.” She paused, fidgeting a little. “If, um, if that’s OK with you.”

“It’s OK, Ashley. You didn’t offend me.”

She let out a breath she’d been subconsciously holding. “Good. Damn, you have no idea how strong that anxiety can get sometimes.”

“Sorry—I can’t control it, or I’d exempt you. Anyway, that’s fine. More than fair—generous, even.”

“Good. Condition two—I don’t always want to watch, but I always want to be able to watch. If you’re about to nail somebody, shoot me a text or something so I can come if I want.”

“Sure—I’d need to anyway per the first condition, right?”

She nodded. “So that’s settled. Three. If I’m going to let you sleep around with random girls, I want to be able to bring in girls of my choosing.”

He glanced over at her. She was dead serious. “So… you’re saying you want to pimp me out?”

“Not for money or anything—obviously if we need money we can just walk into a bank and take it. But maybe I just want to show you off, or maybe some smart-assed cunt could use a cock in her mouth. Or whatever.”

“All right,” he conceded, a little more hesitantly. He didn’t like the idea of using his cock to punish the many people who stumbled upon one of the many ways to piss off his girlfriend, but fair was fair if she was going to let him sleep around. Still… “Just… try to keep them north of average-looking, OK?”

She laughed. “Yeah, yeah, Romeo. And finally… I want to be queen of your floor.”

DJ blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“You’re their king—you rule the land with an iron fist and all, got everybody doing whatever you say. I want the same.”

“Ash, I just did that so I’d have a pretense in place to mess around with the hot girls.”

“Well it’s not my fault you’re short-sighted. If I wanna borrow someone’s clothes or help myself to a cool poster or just take a dump in some bitch’s shower caddy, I want the freedom to do it.”

“But… why? I don’t even get why you’d want to do those things. I can loan you my credit card whenever you need one—hell, I can just get you your own—and… well, I hope you’re not going to start crapping in my residents’ stuff.”

“Look, if we’re going to be a couple and I’m going to be surrounded all the time by people kissing your ass and terrified of upsetting you, I just want us to be on even footing. That’s all. I don’t want to be sitting there feeling like I’m more a part of Them than I am of Us.”

Her sweet smile beamed at him.

“All right. We’ll have a floor meeting as soon as I can arrange one.”

Ashley rewarded his compliance with some slow, thorough road head. She was still going when they got into town, and didn’t stop when a motorcycle cop pulled them over. DJ rolled down the window and smiled apologetically at the uniformed officer as Ashley moaned theatrically with the tip of his dick in her throat. “Sorry, sir, she’s just too good to me.”

“Well… she sure is,” the man said awkwardly. “Just try to be careful, all right, sir?”

“You got it, officer.”

Ashley pulled up to suggest DJ have the officer escort them home, but he just rolled his eyess and pushed her head back down, which she seemed only too happy to tolerate.

During his absence, he’d gotten texts from Emily and Brittney, as well as his weekly pose from his step-sister Lauren and her friends Jody and Brianne, a trio hot enough to make him want to take another trip to his hometown then and there. Ashley had loved hearing about his shenanigans back home, and said she hoped to visit next time he went back.

As for his college ladies, Emily’s texts were just a few pleas to know about his whereabouts and time of return along with offers of what she might do for him when he did; he silenced her with a simple command not to contact him again until he contacted her.

Brittney just texted him once, the second night he was gone. Her message said, very simply, I miss you. DJ had gotten it in the bathroom.

He didn’t reply. Neither did he tell Ashley about it.

Ashley, of course, had been checking his messages whenever she managed to part him with his phone. She knew something was up between DJ and that prom queen bimbo; the way he avoided talking about her, for one, and for two… well, Ashley wasn’t blind.

Still, she liked that he didn’t respond. Ignoring was good, much better than sneaking around behind her back. Especially, she acknowledged grudgingly, because if he said he wanted to keep spending time with that cunt, Ashley knew she’d cave in a heartbeat. All of her plans for wrapping DJ around her finger were built on that shaky foundation of knowing that ultimately, she’d give him whatever he wanted.

The trick, she’d learned, was helping him choose what he wanted.

He wanted to feel like a boyfriend, that much was obvious. So she met his friends and played their stupid game (and even managed to salvage some fun out of it loaning out that little tramp Rachael’s pussy to that horndog Logan). She went on a romantic getaway. She sucked his cock like it was her favorite thing.

She didn’t hate blowjobs, to be honest; still, there weren’t many girls who genuinely loved it and preferred it to actual sex, and she was typical in this regard. It just didn’t hurt to have DJ thinking she was crazy about him—let him know it wasn’t her fav, then do it anyway, so the dork thinks she’d go to the ends of the earth for him.

Which she would. If he asked, she’d have no choice. If he didn’t, she’d go just to salvage that marvelous influence of his.

She couldn’t believe he’d actually agreed to all of her conditions. Truth be told, she didn’t give a shit where he shoved his cock for the most part. Ashley hadn’t been lying when she’d said she wasn’t the jealous type, and she did in fact like to watch—especially if she could watch some uptight self-righteous cunt get taken down a few pegs for thinking she could crap on Ashley Vandoren and get away with it.

No, the only reason she’d even insisted on screening was to give her a means of keeping him from falling into another girl’s hands when some bright bitch realized what a prize he was. At first, Ashley had just had a great night in the lounge—decent sex, in public, fingered to orgasm in front of an audience and on camera, then watching him jizz on that haughty RA’s face. It had been pretty amazing, so when he flirted with her after, she flirted back.

Then, after realizing what he really was, what had really happened, she had seduced by the prospect of living out her wildest exhibitionist fantasies—which she still was, that much was true. DJ had gotten good at sex in a hurry (thanks in part to Ashley, she thought proudly), and getting her pussy stuffed when and wherever she felt like it was fantastic.

Increasingly, though, she was realizing how small such things were. She was beginning to dream big.

The first such bright bitch she had her sights set on was, of course, Brittney. That doe-eyed, long-legged, big-titted, round-assed dream girl was far and away her biggest threat. She also realized she would be the hardest to get rid of. If she told DJ not to talk to her any more and he said no, that’d be the end of it—Ashley knew she’d never say a word about it again for fear of displeasing him. She needed to make it a sure thing so that when she chose that battle, she won—and decisively.

Emily, on the other hand… well, Ashley didn’t know what to make of that little fire cracker. She wasn’t threatened by her like she was with the other; Brittney was hotter than both of them, she could admit it, but Ashley could hold her own against Emily. Still, her devotion was just fucked up as all hell. Ashley couldn’t make any sense of it, unless she really was a hard core submissive; if it was a ruse, on the other hand, she could be a danger to Ashley’s plans.

Which was why she had told DJ she wanted to talk to her. Which, like the sweetheart he was, he agreed to. She could practically hear him cringing at the thought of losing his little sex slave. Ashley told him to order Emily to meet with his girlfriend and answer her questions completely and honestly. He agreed. She almost asked for Emily’s outright obedience, but she’d seen how he dragged his feet when she brought up being his equal around his floor. Play it safe, for now.

Ashley knocked on the girl’s door, and it was answered almost immediately, so quickly that the slender RA must’ve been standing on the other side waiting. There she was, her boyfriend’s thin, delicate little play thing, glaring daggers at Ashley even as she invited her in.

“Nice little place you got here,” Ashley commented as she sat down in one of the open chairs. Emily sat on her bed stiffly.

“What do you want.” Emily’s voice was no-nonsense, and cold as ice.

“Since we have so much in common, I just wanted to talk to you, get to know you a little.” Ashley forced an amiable smile, still unsure how to handle this girl.

“Ask your questions then.”

“Why the rush? Got a big project to work on?”

“Yes, actually. And, since DJ told me to be completely honest, let me add that I don’t want to talk to you about my personal life.”

“You don’t want to,” Ashley mused, “but you’re going to anyway? Why is that? You gotta understand, it’s a little weird from where I’m sittin’.”

“Because DJ said so,” Emily shot back, her voice small but feisty.

“See, that’s what I’m wondering about, that right there. DJ and I are an item now, you know.”

“Good for you. Congrats.” It was raw sarcasm, with a healthy dash of scorn tossed in.

“Which is to say,” Ashley continued, “that you’re not his girlfriend. Yet you seem to have this weird little crush on him. You beginning to see my conundrum here?”

That was all it took to provoke a sudden outburst so sudden it made Ashley flinch. “It’s not a crush! You couldn’t possibly understand!” Emily said, rising to her feet. Her fists were balled, and her stance said she was readying to attack. Ashley had been in a few fights before, and she knew full well it was the size of the fight in the dog. This bitch looked to have a lot of fight in her.

Maybe some rabies, too.

“So what is it? Help me understand.” Ashley only managed to keep her seat through sheer nerve. Nonetheless she was plotting where and how to punch this bitch if she came any closer. Emily was quiet a moment, and slowly sat back down; her face went from fiery to sullen. When it started getting quiet, she prompted, curious to see what the reminder might do, “DJ told you to be completely honest with me.”

Emily sighed, then nodded. “He did. Well, here it goes: I’m his slave. I’m his obedient slave and I do everything and anything he asks without complaint or hesitation.”

“But… why? You have to understand that what you’re saying sounds a little… out there.”

Emily looked up, eyes smoldering. “It’s hard to explain. You see, he… he has this power over people.”

Ashley nodded. “You might remember me sitting there next to you while you blew him. Trust me, I know about the power.”

“You only think you know. I’ve heard about the two of you. You like being paraded around by him. You liked getting fingered in the lounge in front of an audience. You liked those pictures of us that went up on the internet. You don’t understand anything.”

“So you’re saying you hated it?”

Emily’s fists clenched. “Of course I hated it! He humiliated me in front of the whole building, and because of him my life is ruined!”

“Ruined?” Ashley said skeptically. “You won’t be the first or the last girl to let some naughties slip out and survive to tell the tale, Emmy. Don’t be a fuckin’ drama queen.”

“Oh yeah? Well because of that ‘drama,’ my family disowned me! When school lets out, I’m fucking homeless!”

“Huh. I’ll grant you, that does suck,” Ashley conceded. “So that’s your game, suck up to DJ so he’ll keep a roof over your head?” It seemed a bit extreme, but then, she herself had thought of far more mundane uses for him.

“No, that’s not ‘my game.’ It’s hard to explain.” Ashley waited for her, and she took a bit collecting her thoughts. Her fists clenched and unclenched, as did her jaw. Her eyes flashed madly through a range of emotions.

Ashley made sure she kept herself cognizant of where the exits were, as this chick showed every sign of being unhinged.

“I want to ask you to keep what I’m about to say to yourself,” she said at last.

“DJ told you that you had to answer everything completely and truthfully. Now you want to hold out on me?”

“I’m going to answer; I’m just asking as a courtesy. You know? Nevermind. Out with it.” She took a deep breath. “I hate him. I hate him more than I ever thought I could hate someone.”

“Because of what he did with us that night?”

“To us, not with us,” Emily corrected bitterly. “Because of what happened as a result, and because he came back for more.”

“You didn’t exactly discourage him, from what I heard.”

Emily winced. “Of course I didn’t. That would be unthinkably rude.”

“Still, he’s done as bad or worse to plenty of other girls and you don’t see them losing their shit over it.”

“That’s just it—I could hate him for what happened to me, but it’s not that. It’s so much bigger than that. He has that power, and all he’s done with it is take from people and use people and hurt people. That’s despicable. But worse—the real reason I loathe him—is that he’ll never know it. Nobody will ever hold him to account. He may live his entire life without ever feeling the consequences of what he’s done to us. What he’s still doing to us.” Her nostrils flared angrily.

“So just tell him you didn’t like it,” Ashley said glibly.

“Right, just like I bet you challenge him all the time. Do you honestly expect me to believe you’re not just as pathetic around him as I am? Seriously. Imagine DJ spitting right in your face. Slapping you. Now you wanna tell me you’d stand up to him? Of course not. You’d apologize and meekly hope he didn’t just keep going.”

Ashley did imagine it; the girl had a point. Some things just weren’t done. “Still, I wouldn’t go throwing myself at him, begging for more. I could at least ignore him and hope he went away.” She almost suggested avoiding him, but that definitely crossed the line of rudeness.

“Well then why are you with him? If you know he can and will use you, and use other girls. What’s your angle?”

“I… like him,” Ashley said. It didn’t even sound convincing to her own ears, and Emily’s scoff showed she was no sucker either.

“The hell you do. You’re working some angle or another, I know it. What, you think if he falls for you that you can use him back? Tame the beast, make him your pet, is that it?”

Ashley scowled. She didn’t like how this conversation had turned around on her—or how spot-on Emily’s guesswork was. “Hey now, watch it bitch.”

“That’s it, isn’t it? God, you don’t even make it hard. You think he’s really going to be your dutiful little boyfriend? That you’re so damn special that he’ll stay with you, that he won’t throw your fat ass to the curb the minute he’s bored by you?”

“Shut up,” Ashley said angrily.

“Aw, is your little power trip not going like you planned? Pissed off that DJ gets a slave girl and you don’t—or are you pissed that you basically are his slave girl, just as much as I am?”

“It’s not like that!” Ashley insisted.

“Oh no? Well let’s go down to his room, shall we? You can dump him to his face. Or hey, criticize him. Pick something you don’t like about him, and say it to his face. What’s that, you can’t? That’s because you’re his little fuck puppet the same as me!”

“SHUT UP!” Ashley leapt to her feet as Emily did the same. She threw herself at the smaller girl, intending to tackle her to the floor, but she was scary fast and dodged out of the way. Ashley whirled around and renewed her attack with a swing at her stomach that staggered the smaller girl backwards, then Ashley grabbed her from behind. Emily, however, planted a heel of her shoe on Ashley’s shin and raked downwards painfully, making her release her grip.

The scuffle only lasted a minute or so, but it was quite a battle. Ashley hadn’t figured the smaller girl would give her so much trouble, but she was scrappy and agile. Worse, she was just plain crazy—Ashley soon realized that the girl was trying to gouge her eyes, rip her hair out by the roots, and otherwise do serious damage. Soon she was defending herself as desperately as she’d initially attacked.

When Emily’s slender but steel-strong hands gripped her throat, Ashley actually wondered if this fucking nut job was going to straight-up murder her. The wild look in her eyes certainly said she might. Ashley’s vision was going dim as she feebly tried to pry the girl’s grip loose, and just before she blacked out, she finally had an idea.

Forcing a final desperate bit of air out of her windpipe, she managed to form words. “I… have… more… questions,” she wheezed.

At first, it seemed like it wasn’t going to matter, and that Emily was just going to choke her unconscious—or worse. But then, the girl relented, releasing her grip and slumping over onto the bed.

They both took their time catching their breath. Ashley sucked the sweet oxygen into her lungs as fast as she could as her the spots dancing in her vision faded. Nervously, she made her way back to her chair, and Emily returned to her perch at the foot of her bed.

“You said you had questions,” Emily said in a deadpan voice.

“Why did that stop you from… fighting me?” She’d nearly said “killing me,” but she wasn’t ready to admit the totality of her defeat yet.

“DJ told me to answer all your questions. I obey.”

“You never did say why, though. In fact, you said you hated him. It still doesn’t make any sense.”

“I do hate him—don’t you get it? Hating DJ is the worst feeling in the world. Worse than when my dog died. Worse than being hated by my own parents. Those things don’t even compare. It makes me realize in the depths of my being that I am a wretched, disgusting person for feeling the way I do against all common decency.

“So I need to prove to myself I can be good. Redeem myself. Save my soul. The only way I know to do that, the only thing that makes the revulsion go away, is by pleasing him. I’m showing myself that no matter how much I despise him, I can still do the decent thing.”

Ashley listened with fascination to the girl’s twisted explanation. “But why not just… play along? Why take it so far?”

Emily gave her a condescending look. “Because I’m not a selfish bitch who only thinks in terms of the practical. This is the right thing to do. Even if it’s the hard thing to do. If I pretended to love him he’d see through me—I can’t act as well as you can, I guess. But I can serve him, because it’s sincere.”

“Is there a line, though? Like, you give him two days a week, or vaginal but not anal or something?”

“No lines. Until I can make the hatred go away, I deserve to suffer for feeling the way I do. My feelings don’t even matter, really—all that matters is that he be pleased with me.”

“Damn. You’re fucked up.”

Emily sighed. “I know.”

Ashley stood up and walked to the door warily, but Emily didn’t stir. “So you really… belong to him? There’s nothing you wouldn’t obey him on? Like if he texted you to smile but he’d never know if you didn’t, you wouldn’t do it, right?”

“Of course I would do it. I obey. It’s what he wants. He needs to have it. I’d do anything for him.” She looked up at where Ashley was backing towards the door. “I’d kill for him.”

Ashley went a little pale, and without another word, fled the room.

It was the next morning before DJ contacted Emily again. Part of her was relieved at the respite, just as part of her swelled with self-loathing to acknowledge the burden of her servility. She almost slept through his text, but she’d had to foresight to turn her phone’s volume up all the way and use a foghorn for his notification tone. She’d nearly wet herself in fright as the thing went off right next to her head, but still, at least she hadn’t been derelict of duty.

He’d told her to get ready for the day before coming down, so Emily took the time to shower and primp and put on a shoulderless purple sun dress that would certainly be too cold for the autumn weather. It did, however, show off her legs and chest nicely, and would allow ease of access in case DJ wanted the obvious. She hoped he didn’t, then then hated herself for hoping.

She was knocking at his door not half an hour after his text, her now well-practiced servile expression on her face. She’d studied it in a mirror—chin tilted downwards to show humility, eyes looking up to show attentiveness, lips twisted up just so in order to express her eagerness to obey without implying she was genuinely happy for her own sake.

While DJ had spent his long weekend frittering away the hours in hedonistic bliss in the city, Emily had been using her time very carefully. First, she’d gotten as far ahead in her academic work as possible, so that any prolonged orders from DJ wouldn’t leave her as behind. Just in case. Then, she’d devoted every other waking minute to making herself a better slave for him.

She’d ordered strippercise aerobics tapes, to keep her fit and teach her moves to arouse him—or, if he so wished, earn him some money. She’d watched hours of pornography, even listened to it on her headphones through the night in her sleep, so she could study the sexiest ways to service a man, the hottest sounds to make. She’d studied all she could about DJ to better get to know him and anticipate his preferences and desires. The internet had been kind.

Emily was a good girl. Maybe not on the surface, but inside. She had to be. (Didn’t she?)

“Come in,” DJ responded to her knocking.

Emily entered, curtsying deeply, showing off her legs, not yet revealing the skimpy little thong she wore for him. (He’d liked a friend’s post about how hot thongs were in September four years ago; she hoped it had been sincere.) “Good morning, sir. Thank you for allowing me to serve you again. Your slut has been very lonely without you.”

Suddenly, the door closed behind her all on its own. Turning, she saw… Ashley Vandoren. Grinning like the cat who ate the canary.

“I’ll bet she has,” DJ said casually. It pissed her off how easily he accepted her servility as a matter of course—but then, that anger was why she was doing this. “You girls have now met officially, I hear.”

“We sure have,” said Ashley. She was wearing a scarf; Emily wondered if it was hiding bruises. Bruises shaped like her fingers.

“Yes, sir,” echoed Emily.

“Well good. Ashley tells me you two got along famously. I’m glad to hear it.” He smiled.

Emily tried not to frown in confusion. Gotten along famously? Emily had nearly choked the bitch to death. Not that she would have killed her, she didn’t think. She just got… well, she lost control a little when it came to people questioning her about DJ. It wasn’t anyone else’s business.

Still, if Ashley had lied for her and the lie made DJ happy, who was she to dispel his illusions? “Yes, sir. Congratulations on finding a girlfriend. She’s very attractive—she’ll serve you well.” There, see how Ashley likes being talked about like his property.

“Well, funnily, that’s part of why I called you down here. So, you serve me, right?”

Duh. “Of course, sir.”

“And you’ll do anything I tell you to do.”

“Absolutely, sir.” How many times had she insisted this? A hundred?

“Good girl.” He smiled, walking over to her and caressing her cheek affectionately. She shivered; she hadn’t realized how much those words, from him, now meant to her. It was like a jolt right into the pleasure center of her brain. Her cheeks flushed, her pussy moistened in response to her master’s praise. An unbidden smile crept onto her face even as the shame of her response caught up with her.

“Thank you, sir. Your servant’s highest pleasure is earning your praise.” Was this true now? It felt true, sickeningly enough.

“Well good, because I finally have a command for you—something bigger than just cleaning the room or putting on a sexy costume.”

“Excellent. Your slut lives to please you.” She wondered what it would be. Doing his homework? Moving in next door to be on more readily available? Doing porn? Turning tricks? She was ready for anything.

“Good. So here it is, Emily—from now on, I want you to obey Ashley here as you do me.”

Anything but that. To be given away, like a tawdry present to his new slam piece.

She glanced past him at the expression on Ashley’s face; it was pure self-satisfaction. Condescension. Malice. DJ didn’t notice any of it.

“Sir, please, your little fuck toy wishes to serve you, make you happy. How can she do that if she is busy serving another?” She put all the pleading she dared into her voice. She couldn’t tell him she didn’t want to; maybe—oh God, please—he could pick up on the desperation in her voice and let her off easy. Just this once.

No such luck. “Serving Ashley will make me happy. She’s my girlfriend now, so instead of thinking of yourself as just being my slut, think of yourself as our slut.”

“You… I… please…” That was as far as she could go, as close as her wicked, selfish, evil, hateful side would let her get to defying him.

DJ gave her a stern expression, like a babysitter scolding a wayward toddler. “Emily, this is how it has to be if you want to keep serving me. I can’t have my own little sex slave on the side while still having a girlfriend and expect things to work out. Either you serve both of us, or neither. You don’t have to stick around—I mean, nobody’s making you do this if you don’t want to.”

He suggested she not serve him, then said she had a choice? It was laughable, almost. If the only way to be a good girl was to serve this beast, conquer her wicked nature, and the only way to serve him was to serve her…

“Very well, sir. Your slut will obey your other slut.”

Ashley’s look darkened. “That’s the last time you call me that, Emily. You’re his slut; I’m his girlfriend. You’re his property; I’m his partner. Get it?”

Emily nodded. She did get it. “Yes… Ashley.”

“Nuh uh, no ‘Ashley’ for you. People might think we’re equals. Privately, you can call me ‘madame’ or ‘mistress.’ Publicly, you can call me Ms. Vandoren.”

“I understand. And… am I to be madame’s slut as well?”

Ashley grinned. “No. I’m not into girls, you little freak. Nah, for me… you’re my toy.”

“Yes mistress. Your toy understands.”

“Now let’s see if you’re a good toy or not, shall we?” Ashley grinned. DJ just sat down and watched bemusedly. “You’re awfully… strong-looking,” she said, itching meaningfully beneath her scarf. “Do a hand-stand. Use the wall if you have to, but only if you have to.”

Emily nodded. “Yes mistress.” She’d been in gymnastics in middle and high school; she was rusty, but it wasn’t that difficult. She managed the maneuver quickly; there was now no more mystery regarding her thong. The dress hung down low enough she couldn’t see, and she was nearly bared to the bra. Ashley paced around her, prodded her a few times to test her balance. She nearly fell, but her determination not to give the bitch the satisfaction kept her in position.

“Wearing underwear, are we? Well that won’t do. Little sluts like you shouldn’t ever have barriers to fucking them.”

“Your toy apologizes, mistress.” She hadn’t been told to move, so she didn’t, straining to hold herself in place.

She could only hear Ashley’s steps, a little shlick as the girl retrieved a pair of scissors and snipped her thong off at the waistband, then tugged it off. Emily’s bare pussy pointed up at the ceiling. She thought she heard the sound of them landing in the trash can.

“Ooooh, you’re nice and wet, aren’t you?” Ashley said, running her fingers across Emily’s moistened slit. “How’s come, Toy? What made you so wet?”

Emily grimaced, glad the veil of her dress hid it. She’d been ordered to obey Ashley as she did DJ, and that meant holding nothing back. At least while he was around. “Sir said that his slut was a good girl. His slut enjoyed his praise.”

Ashley barked a laugh, then continued in a fit of hysterical giggles. “Oh my God, this bitch is just too fucking priceless. You’re telling me you get off on being told you’re a good girl? Like a fucking dog?”

“Yes, mistress.”

She kept laughing, somewhere in the midst of it granting Emily permission to stand up again. She did, arms burning, waiting as patiently as she could, struggling to keep her servant face on.

For the next half hour, Ashley amused herself by using Emily like a puppet, testing to see if she had any limits, each test heightening Emily’s commitment that she would have none. Emily barked, she danced a strip tease, she performed various gymnastic feats, she baby-talked, she pleaded to be allowed to pleasure Ashley (rebuffed), then to be allowed to pleasure DJ (accepted).

She was well into her blowjob before Ashley stopped it by tugging backward on her hair, hard, knocking her from her knees to her butt. “Ashley!” DJ scolded. “What the hell!”

Ashley took Emily’s place, licking up and down his shaft as she gave him an apologetic look so fake Emily couldn’t believe he didn’t notice. “Sorry, baby, I just couldn’t stand by and watch dumb-dumb here give you a lackluster blowjob. Get your ass dressed, Toy—I want his eyes on me now.”

DJ was mollified by her tongue, but only somewhat. “Still, she could’ve bit my dick off, dammit.”

“Aww, well maybe I’ll just have to make it up to you.” She slid her red lips down his shaft, snugly wrapped, inch by cock-sucking inch.

The fight had mostly left him, but Emily was surprised to hear a defense of her come out of him. “You don’t have to be so rough with her, you know.” Like he was one to talk, role-playing raping her while she was handcuffed to a radiator.

Ashley slid the top few inches of his not-unimpressive cock into her throat, gurgling happily, before letting him slide back out. “You don’t think she gets off on it, being treated like a cheap little slut? Emily, tell him how much you like being treated like shit by us.”

It hadn’t been a question; it had been an unambiguous order. “Oh yes, mistress,” Emily gushed. “I love it when you and sir are hard on me.”

DJ didn’t notice the distinction; the blowjob was keeping his brain on low power mode. “Well, fair enough.” Accordingly, he didn’t object when—after she’d coaxed DJ into cumming again, this time all over the front of Emily’s purple dress—Ashley told Emily she was coming out with her today.

“Have a good day, hon,” a spent DJ murmured from his bed.

“Going back to sleep, ya bum? What is this, week three with no classes?”

“I went to a couple classes… last week.” He poked Ashley in the butt. “Besides, somebody kept me up all night.”

Ashley gasped. “Who, moi? Well next time I have an insatiable thirst for your cum I’ll just let you sleep through it.”

He pulled her down and kissed her goodbye. “You better not. Now you two have fun out there today.”

“We will. Now say goodbye to your fuck toy, and remember to reward her for her service.”

DJ, with what felt like a little hesitation at the presence of his girlfriend, patted Emily on the ass under her dress. “Good girl.”

Emily almost came. Almost. If not for Ashley’s sardonic grin, she thought she would have. God, what was wrong with her?

“And Ashley? Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“That leaves all kinds of open territory, doesn’t it?”

It did. Emily, still wearing DJ’s semen on her face, dress, and hair, followed Ashley meekly out into the hallway, and soon, upstairs to Ashley’s own room. Her mistress’ roommate balked at the sudden intrusion, then, when she saw Emily and her state, she made a disgusted face. “Is that…?!”

Ashley nodded, laughing. She ran out of the room.

“I have a feeling,” Ashley said, as she began changing out of what were evidently yesterday’s clothes, “that this is going to be a good day. Do you have that feeling?”

Emily frowned. “I don’t know what you’re trying to pull here, but this isn’t going to fly.”

“Toy, Toy, Toy. It’s not just going to fly, you’re gonna pilot the fuckin’ thing. You’re my bitch now. I own your scrawny ass.”

“The hell you do,” she said, folding her arms defiantly. As defiantly as she dared. Ashley’s scarf came off, and Emily was surprised—and disappointed—by the lack of bruising.

“Emily, fetch that pen and paper over there for me, would ya?”

Emily snorted. “Get it yourself, cunt.”

Ashley, with some effort, managed the clasp that had the herculean charge of supporting her titanic boobs for the day. “DJ told you to obey me, Emily. Do you really mean to tell me you can’t do something so simple for him?”

It was a taunt, plain and simple—but a fair point. Emily grabbed the stationery off of Ashley’s roommate’s desk and brought it over. “There, happy?”

“I am—what a good girl you are.” The bitch plainly watched her for her reaction; Emily tried not to let it show how excited the words made her, even coming from Ashley. Still, her nipples betrayed her, stabbing right out through the thin material of her cum-spotted dress. The moisture trickling down her thighs would have too if she’d bothered to look.

Ashley noticed. “Man, you are going to be so much fun to fuck with,” she said giddily.

“Look, I’ll follow you around, carry your fucking backpack or whatever, because DJ said so, but I’ll be damned if I’m gonna let you shit on me all day. I didn’t sign on for that.”

“Really? Because I seem to remember DJ telling you to obey me like you do him. When was that? Hmm… Oh yeah, it was an hour ago.”

“Yeah, well he’s not here now, is he.”

“What, you think I can’t just call him up and tell him?”

“If you do, I’ll just tell him you’re lying. He completely believes I’m his slave to my core, and he already sees through you at least a little bit. It’ll be my word versus yours, and in his presence, I’ll serve him so good he’ll never believe I could be lying.” Emily smirked. “So tell me again about how you’re going to tattle on me, Cindy Brady.”

Ashley’s expression darkened. “Toy… why, I never thought… you know, what you said earlier about proving you were a good girl, I really believed it. I actually thought you meant it when you said you could prove you were better than me, working past your dislike.”

“Hatred.”

“Yeah, that. To think I believed you might actually be able to live up to your own hype.”

“You’re not going to bait me with that bullshit. If you pick a fight with me, we both know what’ll happen if DJ’s not around to protect you.” She grinned smugly. “And if he is, I won’t fight back—I’ll be his meek, pathetic little slave girl, and the more you pick on me, the more he’ll take my side out of whatever passes for pity in that dumpster soul of his. Between a pushy bitch girlfriend and a wholly devoted slave, he’ll pick the second one, every time.”

Ashley tugged on her shirt, her back to Emily, who was eagerly awaiting the impotent rage her explanation would surely elicit. Instead… she wore a smug smile. “Well fine then. I’ll just go tell DJ how you feel about him.”

“Wait, what?”

“I’ll just go downstairs, and tell him the only reason you’re his slave is because he ruined your life and you despise him but you have to prove your tolerance is stronger than your hatred. That every second you’re in his presence fills you with revulson.”

“But… I’ll deny it.”

“Nope. Because right now, he’s happy to think you just have a weird little kink, so he doesn’t look his little gift pony in the mouth. Once I plant that seed in his head, he’s going to get curious and ask you a lot of hard questions, and we both know you won’t lie to him about that. Not convincingly, anyway—you Hulked out just talking to me about it last night, so I can only imagine how shitty your poker face would be in front of your master.”

It was true. Dammit, it was true. Ashley would tell him and he’d get suspicious. She knew damn well she couldn’t fake her way through it, as strong as her emotions were on the subject.

He wouldn’t want her to serve him any more—might not even let her near him—and then she’d… she’d have nothing left. No one. No chance of redemption. Ever.

“Fine.”

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

“I said fine. I’ll serve you.”

“I’ll serve you…?”

“I’ll serve you, mistress.”

“That’s the spirit. Now quit looking so pissed off, and pick up that pen. I want you to take some dictation.”

Emily complied, and Ashley wore a pensive look as she put on her makeup—too much eyeliner, wine red lipstick, a little blush on her pale cheeks. “One,” she said finally. “Throw out all my bras and panties and never wear either ever again.”

Emily arched an eyebrow, but Ashley just peevishly made a scribbling motion, so Emily wrote it down. “Two. Get the words ‘fuck toy’ tattooed on my neck.” Emily wrote, wondering what this was—some kind of weird to-do list? She kept wondering as Ashley went down the list.

“Three—go to class naked.”

“Four—give a homeless guy a blowjob.”

“Five—pose nude, sell them to a porn site, then email my friends and family the link.”

“Six—go to the football team’s locker room and invite them to run a train on me.”

“Seven—start doing hard drugs.”

“Eight—quit my job, lose my housing, and live under a freeway overpass.”

Emily’s dread had been growing that this list pertained to her, but when she heard that last, she was sure. As a resident assistant, her room and board were paid for—if she quit, she’d have no housing, and no income with which to buy it. Ashley smiled wickedly as she saw comprehension dawn on Emily’s face.

“What is this?” Emily asked into the silence.

“Oh, my list? Well, your list, I guess we should call it. That’s a list—non-chronological, mind you—of the things I’m going to have you do each time you displease me.”

“You can’t!” Emily yelled. Pleaded.

“Can’t I? Sure feels like I can. Unless you want to refuse me? In which case, I’ll need to see the list so we can see what punishment to dole out first…” She craned her neck to see the words on Emily’s paper.

“No!” Emily yelped. “No, please don’t. I won’t displease you. I promise. Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it.” She sunk to her knees, head lowered in humility, hands clasped as if in prayer.

Ashley smiled, and without a word, went over to her closet and got a rag, then began wiping it around her neck. Little by little, the concealer she’d been wearing there wiped off. Emily winced, both at seeing what she’d done, and beginning to realize what it meant for her.

Finally, Ashley stood before her, a ring of purple-yellow bruises now evident around her throat.

“Wrap your hands around your neck,” she commanded.

With a shudder, Emily obeyed.

“Good girl.”