Welcome to
Read and write stories with our community and AI
Have a play around and see what you and the AI can come up with. Try spinning off new branches, or regenerate chapters with different characters or settings!
Search results for
"slave"
Search results for "slave"
A lowly member of a SWAT team ends up caring for a former sex slave.
Trevor never anticipated his life would go this route.
Had you told him a week ago he’d be part of the SWAT team that liberated sex slaves from a local warehouse, he would have insisted that nothing like that would happen in his small town. That his position on the SWAT team is mostly through nepotism, and that he himself could never possibly do something so great for victims of a serious crime.
Trevor was wrong. Hilariously and humiliatingly so.
While he was called to a raid of a warehouse, he thought it would turn up absolutely nothing. But alas, the national media has been going insane with the findings. And in a lot of ways, he’s been promoted. Sort of.
The girl that he carried out of the warehouse, she seemed to cling to him. Refusing to speak to anyone but him, Which, he sort of took as a compliment. He never thought of himself as much, but he did something right. All he did was pick up the first woman he saw on the ground. He used his lock buster to get the chains off of her, wrapped her in a warm blanket, and then carried her to safety.
They still have no idea on who she is. Or any of the girls, minus three who were identified a few days ago. They’re the lucky ones, so people say. Yet the reality is that their families will not know what to do with them. Unfortunately, these women are a bit on the tainted side.
They’ve all been brainwashed into sex slavery.
A very complex type of brainwashing occurred. Not many people have any idea of how to combat it. The guys at the FBI are still working on it. But for Trevor, it’s all feeling a bit archaic. He was tasked with keeping the woman that attached herself to him. Because, what else were they supposed to do with the ones that attached themselves to the men who rescued them? Exactly. No one knew what to do, so those like Trevor got tasked with taking care of theirs.
Which is fine. He’d wanted to get, like, a Shih Tzu or a cat or something. Maybe some fish. The pay for this is good, at least. And all he has to do is stay home and protect her. Try to ease her mind into understanding she’s more than just a piece of meat.
The woman is rather gorgeous. Long black hair that Trevor brushes out and puts in a high ponytail, so that it gets dirty at a much slower rate. Porcelain skin with very few flaws or markings, given what the lady went through, he finds that rather surprising. Her eyes are a dark brown., when the light hits them properly, they look like delicate pools of honey.
However, he hasn’t get figured out how to get her to say her name. All she’s said thus far has been various things regarding pleasing him sexually. Which, for good reason, he’s turned down. There are lines someone shouldn’t cross, and Trevor is pretty sure taking advantage of a sex slave is one of those lines. Sure, he laughs at things he shouldn’t on the internet, but he’d still like to cross the pearly gates and dap Saint Peter up.
She’s Asian, she has huge natural breasts, and she’s lactating rather heavily. Other than that, and where he rescued her from, Trevor knows absolutely nothing else about her.
Every day, he gets new information on how to help her. He can submit concerns and inquiries to the FBI agents managing the case, and they’ve been fairly good about responding to him. However, today, he got a response he was not expecting.
In order to assist her with the issue of breast heaviness and prevent mastitis, we recommend milking her with either your hands or a breast pump. Or perhaps both, if she will allow you to touch her in such a way. Do let us know how this goes as it may assist the other women with lactation issues.
Well, shit.
He’s been calling her Elena. Not for any particular reason, it was just the first thing that came to mind when he realized he couldn’t keep calling her ‘woman’ or ‘ma’am’. It felt rude to him, since she’s living in his apartment now. Trevor rarely leaves her alone, so like everyone else in 2024, he ordered a breast pump from Amazon. He never thought he’d have videos on how to use such a thing in his YouTube history, yet, here he is, watching a video on how to properly use a breast pump.
The money’s worth it.
He keeps telling himself that.
Lately, though, her passes at him have gotten even more brazen. Elena began trying to take off his belt, and he wasn’t sure how to react. Wouldn’t taking advantage of her mental state be wrong? He doesn’t know what to do. As badly as he wants to keep his soul intact, he’s only human, he’s going to break down at some point. And he knows it.
Due to her tender condition, most of the time she spends is tied up. Trevor purchased a set of leather bondage restraints, they’re quite fancy. But this wasn’t really the use he had intended for them. It just sort of worked out that way.
With a tired look on his face, he walks into what used to be his guest bedroom. There Elena is, laying on her back on the bed in a pink night gown. The black restraints around her wrists and ankles are a stark contrast to her milky, porcelain skin.
“Please, please help me…”
It’s a common sentence from her. Trevor didn’t know exactly what she meant by that until he figured out she was begging for a milking. Apparently it can be quite painful for a woman’s breasts to get so full. If he had known that sooner, well, he could have helped her sooner. But, thankfully, no one expects him to be perfect in his care for her.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m here,” he says softly, nodding his shaggy brown hair out of his eyes. Elena wiggles a little bit, but doesn’t fight her constraints. She hasn’t really fought him on much of anything since he had her. Aside from her sexual advances at him. Yet, looking at her now in those restraints, and how much heavier her bust has gotten, Trevor wonders briefly if his resolves will truly prevail.
“Alright,” Trevor moves forward, taking a seat next to her on the bed. She’s warm, that’s his first thought as he feels her thigh against his lower back. Her skin’s so soft, and she’s just… gorgeous. So unbelievably gorgeous and alluring.
Shaking the thoughts out of his mind, she speaks again.
“Please, please, please help me.”
Holding onto the milking machine in his hand, he grabs one of the pumps and turns himself around, getting onto the bed on his knees.
Looking over her breasts, he finds them without flaw. Her nipples look painfully hard, leaking a little bit in a last ditch effort to get some relief. He really feels awful he didn’t figure this out sooner, or ask about it. Holding onto the pump, he gently presses it to her right nipple. Elena wiggles a little, but seems to let out a deep sigh as she knows what is about to come for her.
Relief. Sweet, sweet breast relief.
Trevor flips the switch on the first pump, and Elena lets out a rather satisfied groan. Applying the second pump to her left breast, she makes the same noise. He watches rather eagerly as her nipples get suckled into the machine, and an off-white liquid seems to start filling up the little bottles attached.
It’s actually pretty hot.
Swallowing a little, he steps off of the bed and simply watches her. As the milking machine takes care of her breasts, suckling her nipples and releasing the sweet milk that had been building up in her for days. His eyes watch as she gets her relief, and he begins to feel something stirring in his pants.
Shit, he’s getting hard! Watching her grind her thighs together for friction, watching her wrists and ankles grind against the restraints, the look of pure contentment on her face. Trevor doesn’t know what to do.
But, what if, crossing that line could help Elena? If this is her normal, what she’s been brainwashed into, and if it’s her normal, what if that means he can replicate those steps to undo the brainwashing? Or… is that all just a thought to justify why he’s unbuckling his belt? Something to make him feel less bad about removing his shirt and stepping out of his pants. Significantly less guilt about hooking his thumbs in his boxers and yanking them down as he steps towards the bed.
His long cock is getting significantly harder the more he watches. Elena seems to be none the wiser at the moment as she continues to writhe and moan in relief. Maybe he had been apprehensive about this at first, but now it makes sense in his mind.
To undo the damage, he has to do the things that were done to Elena, but in a non-damaging way.
Sometimes he can be so stupid. The answer was right in front of him the whole time.
As he crawls onto the bed, Elena opens her eyes. When she sees a man crawling on top of her, she stops grinding her thighs together, instead spreading her legs and relaxing the bondage restraints on her ankles significantly. Her deep brown eyes stare up into his greens, and the moans of relief turn into ones of need.
While she doesn’t talk much outside of expressing her need of help with being milked, Elena keeps staring up at Trevor as he gets on his knees between her legs. His eyes flick from her gorgeous breasts being milked by the machine, and down to her cunt. It’s wet. Wetter than he’s ever seen a woman be. Lifting his hand, he has to touch it, reaching his hand down between her legs and gently feeling how soaked she is. He shivers at the feeling. Elena’s cunt is hot, it’s wet, and that delicate hole feels so tight despite all she had gone through.
Elena whimpers a little as Trevor moves his fingers up and down her cunt. Naturally, she’s ready to take a rather good pounding. As the machine continues to drain her breasts, she becomes aware of the other thing in the room that needs to be drained. Trevor’s balls.
How long has it been since he got laid? Far too long. His cock is now completely hard, a drip of precum leaks from his tip, his head flared and angry. Removing his fingers from the stroking motions of Elena’s sopping cunt, he uses her sweet slick to stroke his cock. Getting it nice and wet as he angles his needy head against her entrance.
Elena bites her lip a little bit, lifting her head up to look down. Just in time to watch that hard, thick prick sinking right into her hole. She whimpers again before letting out a low moan. “Yes…” she whispers the word, licking at her lips as she watches on. More and more of his cock slipping inside of her.
Trevor grabs onto the sheets for dear life, his head hanging low as he pants through his breaths. She’s so tight! It’s like trying to fuck a wet fist, or tucking a hallway into a hot dog.
He keeps moving, shifting his hips and pushing his entire cock inside of her. Not stopping until he can feel the head of his cock pressed against her cervix. If only he could go further… but she’s such a good fit, he’s so deep inside of her, he can feel her walls throbbing around his prick.
There was never a chance he was going to last very long, not his first time being with her. Pulling his hips back, he starts to give her sharp, deep thrusts. Pulling out of her completely feels impossible. He’s panting and groaning, jutting his cock into her over and over again, spearing his cock, prying her walls apart.
“Ah! Yes!” Elena cries out more, her wrists pulling on the restraints as her body starts to twitch and convulse a bit. Trevor can’t take it, he needs to feel those amazing, immaculate, delicious breasts for himself. Quickly, he yanks the pump off of her, letting it clatter to the floor. Her hefty bust is still leaking milk, but he doesn’t care.
Grabbing onto both of her tits, Trevor squeezes them hard, feeling an ooze of liquid against his hands. Fuck! It feels so good, sinking his cock in and out of her so deeply, battering at her cervix as her tit flesh bubbles around his fingers. Elena’s delicious milk leaks out against his hands, making a rather big wet mess underneath of her on the sheets. Fuck it, he can clean it up later.
Elena keeps looking up at Trevor as if he’s a saint. His cock feels so good hammering in and out of her pussy, his balls smacking against her ass. It’s all so familiar to her, yet it feels so much different than the other guys.
That’s when it hits her.
She’s not in the warehouse anymore!
When she blinks, it suddenly looks like there might be someone home in her head after all this time. Trevor lets out a gasp as he sees this, some guilt setting into the pit of his stomach, but it’s impossible for him to stop throttling his cock in and out of her snatch.
“A-Are you okay?!” He asks, but still can’t stop, rocking the bed with his thrusts. Making her breasts shake in his powerful grasp.
“Yes! Oh, yes! Yes!” Elena nods, unable to really say another word other than the affirmative.
“Okay… okay, good!”
Trevor still can’t stop. The way her pussy is starting to tighten up, he can bet she’s about to cum. A blush forms on her body and he can tell she’s heating up. He keeps his grip on her breasts tight, using her restrained body as leverage to fuck her with everything he has. Slapping his balls against her ass in stinging plaps, letting her juices coat his entire sex and dribble out onto the bed. Fuck it all, he’ll clean up after her during her next bath… which is probably going to be tonight, considering how much she’s sweating. It’s all his fault.
Elena writhes and gasps underneath of Trevor, her eyes closing tight and her whole body shaking as her cunt starts to throb more intensely against his cock. As if trying to suckle the cum from straight from his balls.
She really was trained wonderfully… but he shouldn’t be thinking like that! He does want to help her, it’s just hard to focus on helping her when his cock is being drained dry.
It only takes mere seconds more of slamming his cock in and out of her pussy before Trevor erupts inside of her. He hilts himself, grinding his balls against her ass as he tosses his head back and groans loudly. Spurt after hot spurt of sticky cum floods Elena’s throbbing canal. Painting her insides white as his sweat drips from his brow onto her, and the bed.
Huffing, panting, he releases his firm grip on her breasts, only to find they’re still leaking quite heavily. “Ah, shit, lemme…”
With a great air of reluctance, Trevor pulls himself out of Elena’s messy pussy, a trail of his cum following his cock out. Stumbling off of the bed a bit, he grabs the machine, standing on his shaky legs and leaning over her.
“Yes, please, help me.” Elena says, though her gaze is a bit more tired now. And once again, it looks like she’s not all there in the head. Shit, he hates seeing that look returning. But he’ll figure something out. He always does.
Placing the milking machine back onto each of her reddened breasts, he lets out a little laugh. “We’ll work on that some more later. Get some rest. I’m gonna get a shower…”
Trevor enjoyed his shower, but his mind was in a flurry of different thoughts. He’d been fucking Elena, and it looked like she had a spark when it happened. Was it possible he was right? Could having sex with her, could milking her, keeping her comfortable be the key to freeing her mind of her severe brainwashing?
It almost makes sense. To wake her up from her nightmare, he needs to be good to her. Different than her captors. He needs to prove he’s better than all of this shit she went through in the warehouse. So that she can be reunited with her family.
That’s always the end goal, right?
What if he doesn’t want her to go away? No, it’s for the best. Truthfully, he can’t babysit her forever. And it’s very likely she won’t want to stick around once she remembers everything. She’s somebody’s daughter, someone’s sister, perhaps even someone’s mother. People are looking for her, maybe in another country. More than likely, once she remembers who she is, he’s not gonna see his Elena again.
While it hurts, he knows that’s how it has to be. His job right now is to help her in every way he can.
After getting himself dressed in a pair of loose fitting shorts, Trevor went back to check on Elena. Knowing full well she herself needs a good bath. He found the bottles on the milking machine were almost overwhelmed with how much they got. So he took them to the kitchen, dumping them out and giving them a good wash.
Once he got the milking machine back into one piece, he placed it on the sink in the guest en suite. Approaching Elena, she looks a good bit tired. As she should be. He put in a lot of work fucking her guts out, even if it was a bit short lived. No matter, he has a feeling he’ll be doing that again.
Getting the restraints off of her is easy. She doesn’t recoil or fight or try to run away. Doesn’t fight him off or make a run for it. It makes him smile a good bit, it’s a nice feeling to know she trusts him so much. Picking her up bridal style, Trevor is very careful carrying her to the en suite. Squatting down, he places her gently in the warm, bubbly water. He can swear he sees a smile on her face.
Elena has always liked bath time, in the few days he’s had her. She’s capable of sitting up on her own and assisting with her own washing, thankfully, so there isn’t a lot he really has to do for her. But he wants to. He wants to help wash her and talk to her and try to bring her out of her own mind.
Suddenly, his phone vibrates on the sink next to the milking machine.
“Shit, don’t go anywhere,” he says with a little smirk as he stands up and walks to the sink. Elena seems to be watching him with her big brown eyes. There’s something about him that makes her truly comfortable, she really can’t deny it. Unfortunately, she doesn’t know why. It’s becoming obvious to her that there’s something trying to claw out of her. Out of her mind, her throat, through her tongue.
Elena, the real Elena, the one before she became a sex slave, desperately wants to be freed. Not that she could ever communicate that to him, or to anyone else, really.
So what can she do besides enjoy her time in the bath?
Checking his phone, he finds an email from one of the FBI agents. What;s inside is rather intriguing.
Research has found these women were brainwashed through hypnotic videos and subliminal messaging. We’ve known this since before the warehouse was discovered, and thankfully we’ve finished a beta version of a hypnotic video and audio segment that may assist in undoing some of the damage. We will have different versions available and emailed to you keeps directly. Keep us updated on any results.
Well, that’s unexpected.
He downloads the video, figuring he’ll play it for her while he bathes her and gives her another round on the milking machine. Maybe it’ll work, maybe it’ll help bring the real Elena out. Getting a glimpse of her earlier, it was actually something gorgeous. Even if he might lose her eventually, he wants to help her as best he can.
Trevor hangs his phone on the faucet using his Popsocket, taking a few moments to load up the video and press play. His hand reaches for Elena’s head, gently turning her focus away from him and onto the phone across from her.
The video contains a lot of spiraling white lines on a black background. If he looks at it for too long, it hurts his eyes pretty severely. So he sits on his knees by the bathtub, flipping the switches on her milking machine and properly attaching the pumps once more. Making sure they’re on tight, he feels his cock twitching again as her nipples get suckled and her sweet cream begins to fill up the bottles.
Various words flash across the screen, so fast no one would really catch onto them unless they expected them to be there. As the spiral goes around and around in circles, Elena’s sole focus becomes staring at the video. For the first time, she’s useless during her bath. But somehow, Trevor expected that. If the videos are gonna work, she has to have her entire focus on them.
REMEMBER.
BREATHE.
UNLOCK YOUR MIND.
OPEN YOUR MIND.
RELAX YOUR BODY
INHALE.
WHO ARE YOU?
EXHALE.
The swirls reflect in Elena’s eyes as she stares. What is she supposed to remember? How does she unlock her mind? Who is she? As she watches, she realizes she’s being milked. And it feels so good, it’s such a relieving feeling. Hopefully she’ll be empty soon.
While she watches the video, Trevor goes about washing her body. He cleans under her breasts, scrubs her back, releases her ponytail and makes sure he washes her hair very well. Letting her get and stay dirty wouldn’t be good for her, especially considering the filthy conditions they found her in.
Next, he washes her cunt. Gently rubbing it and getting it clean, making sure his cum gets washed away properly. Every few moments, he gives her face a glance. She’s staring so intently at the video, barely blinking.
It’s kind of creepy.
But it becomes less creepy when he remembers this is something that’s going to help her. As he washes and rinses her, he continues to check on various things. Mostly her, making sure she’s okay, watching her face to make sure she’s still awake. Making sure Elena is still breathing, and glimpsing at the video.
It’s rather disorienting, hurts his eyes, so he doesn’t look at it very often or for long. Once she’s fully rinsed off, he turns the video off and stuffs his phone into his back pocket. He’s realizing something, she hasn’t made a sexual advance at him the entire time he’d been washing her down!
“Hey! I guess we’re making progress after all, huh?” Trevor knows she can’t answer him. But he does like to talk to her when he does things to or for her. “Alright, let’s empty these bottles…” unlatching the bottles from the pump, he dumps them into the soapy water before dunking them underneath and gently washing them. He turns the faucet on to rinse them out properly, not sure about the proper care for such items, but, he’s doing his damned best at this job.
Yanking on the drain plug, he stands up to grab a towel, turning around and drying Elena’s hair, then her body as the water goes down lower and lower. He really cares for her, taking his time to make sure every possible inch of her body are properly dried out. Part of him seems to thrive in this caregiver role, though he never truly imagined himself in it.
Finally, to end the day, Trevor places her in a chair in the guest room while he replaces her messy sheets and blankets. It only takes a few minutes, but in that time, Trevor’s already received another email.
“Oh come on!” he cries out, wondering what new ‘research’ could exist in the hour he had her naked and soaped up. Taking a small break from replacing the sheets, Trevor opens up his phone to read this email.
Attached is a special set of hypnosis-reversing audio. Play one while she sleeps, play one when she wakes up, and play another whenever you must leave her completely alone in the home. They are labeled accordingly.
Okay, fine, but he still thinks that could have been put in the first email. He’s glad they have more things to help these girls, to help his Elena, but come on! Oh well. “Simple enough. Okay. Let’s get you back into bed.”
Trevor gently lifts Elena bridal style once more and lays her on her back in her bed. One by one, he carefully places those nice leather restraints back onto her limbs. “Goodnight… Elena.”
“… Goodnight, Trevor.”
Trevor feels his eyes go rather wide. Did she..? “… you know my name?!” Progress! Progress is progress! And this, admittedly, is pretty damn good progress. The smile on his face widens as he moves to cover her up with the fresh blanket. “Yeah! Yeah, my name’s Trevor. I carried you out of that warehouse… you never wanted to leave my side. It took a lot to get you to sleep by yourself. A lot of screaming, a lot of crying, you know.”
But when he looks at Elena again, her eyes are blanked out like someone high on painkillers, and she doesn’t really response. Opening her mouth, as if waiting to take his cock into her mouth. He lets out a small sigh, reaching down to gently pat the back of her head, moving her ponytail a little bit. At least she’s doing a bit better now. With a sigh, he takes his phone out once more and starts streaming the sleep audio to the Bluetooth speaker in the guest room.
Hopefully, it does something.
Morning breaks and Trevor opens his eyes to the sound of his alarm going off on his phone. It had been a rather quiet night, one that had him sleep completely through it due to getting to blow a load in his Elena. He remembers it so vividly, he doubts he’ll ever forget it. Hopefully he gets to do it again. But, of course, he won’t force her.
If Elena gets all of her memories back, and doesn’t want to fuck him anymore, Trevor will be okay with that. He’s not a monster. The monsters are who he rescued her from, after all.
Their morning routine carries on as normal. He puts her in a new dress, but notices she’s being more helpful than usual. Actually putting her arms in the dress and smiling at him. Though she didn’t speak again, not her usual sentences or his name or telling him good morning like she said goodnight. Yet he notices those glimpses in her eyes, tiny little beacons of hope that tells Trevor someone is indeed inside of her head.
Hopefully one day, he gets to know her properly.
Elena had breakfast, and then Trevor decided to settle her on the couch. In her little pink dress, she looks rather cute. He can’t help but smile at her as much as possible. “Alright, we’re going to try that video again, on the big television…” once more, he knows she can’t or won’t respond to what he says, but he says it anyway. Humanizing her at every chance he gets. It makes him feel better about the entire situation.
Elena, however, gives a soft nod and a smile. It takes him back a little bit, but he returns the smile as he starts casting the video to his living room television. Just like last night, he can’t really look at the screen for too long. It hurts his head, his brain, too. Because he knows who he is. He knows to breathe.
The audio in the video, he’s realizing, is a low hum. It’s not too different from the warbled humming hypnosis audio he’d put on for her last night. Assuming he’d missed the sounds of the video the previous night because of the sounds of water and being so preoccupied with Elena’s washing and care, he’d tuned it out. It almost makes him feel weird to be hearing such noises.
But, he ignores his own discomfort, for her sake.
Nothing is about him right now, after all. It’s all about making her feel better. Getting her to remember. Blah, blah… blah.
“I’m gonna grab some coffee, Elena.” Trevor’s still trying to humanize her. The FBI agents haven’t said it helps, but it helps him feel better.
“I’ll have mine black.”
As he’s walking into his kitchen, he turns on his heel. She spoke?! Elena wants coffee?! Okay, maybe this video, those audios, are doing exactly what they thought. “Absolutely! One black coffee for you, one black coffee…”
While he walks into the kitchen with that smile plastered on his face, he repeats her words in his mind. Elena does have a gorgeous voice. Cackling a little as he sets the coffee pot to brew something strong, his phone once again vibrates and chimes with an email alert. This time, it’s not annoying. So long as he doesn’t get another one an hour later, with the same fucking information that could have been included in the first fucking one. Fuck.
We’ve discovered the women have been hypnotized in a manner that makes them addicted to semen. While this may seem unethical to most, we’re suggesting that if you are comfortable accepting sexual advances from the woman in your care, please do accept them. It will not harm them in any way, and in exposing them to semen in this safe environment, the symptoms of withdrawal in all aspects will fade alongside the reversal audios and videos. No adverse effects have been reported from this method of treatment. Benzodiazepines have been dropped off in your mailboxes to be administered after these events of sexual contact with the woman in your care, just to be on the safe side regarding adverse reactions.
Extremely unexpected, well, that would be an understatement. Cum addiction?! It explains a lot, actually. Elena had told him goodnight for the first time shortly after he came inside of her. His best assumption is any hole receiving cum has that effect on her. And to think, he had been apprehensive about taking her up on her passes at him. It could have been a way for him to help her this whole time!
“Well, today’s full of surprises, isn’t it?” Trevor laughs to himself, tucking his phone into his pocket as the coffee machine beeps. He takes his time to pour them both a good mug, making sure to keep hers black, loading his own down with lots of sugar and creamer.
Walking back into his living room, he happily passes off the mug to Elena. Her hands are a little shaky, but she manages to take it and take a nice, long gulp. It makes Trevor smile yet again as he takes a seat on the couch next to her. And just watches, since he can’t look at the television, watches the gorgeous woman as she drinks down her coffee.
“Glad to hear that you… you know, can say more than you used to. It’s quite nice, you do have a lovely voice.”
Elena doesn’t talk back to him, she simply sits there drinking her coffee.
“Do you like the name I gave you? Elena? I got it from a book I read when I was a kid. Can’t remember the name of it. But I always liked the name,” he muses a little bit as he takes a few drinks of his own coffee. “Rolls off of the tongue pretty well.”
Of course, she doesn’t say anything. Her deep brown eyes are focused on the television as she looks over her mug, seemingly inhaling the aroma in a rather needy fashion in between sips and drinks. Trevor wonders what she’s thinking about, if she’s thinking anything at all. Every few moments he gets those glimpses again, glimpses of someone being behind those glassed over eyes.
“Yeah, I used to read a lot…” he says while still watching her.
Finally, her lips part and her tongue flecks out. She’s gonna speak! Trevor’s on the edge of his seat, wondering what she might say to him. Something worthwhile. Something… impactful, a glimpse into who she really is. Something to help the agents find her family, perhaps?
“Please, please help me.”
Nope.
“Of course, I’ll always help you. That’s what I’m here for…” However, Trevor has another idea. Approaching Elena, he takes her coffee mug and places it with his on the coffee table. Sighing lowly, he gently eases the straps of her dress down. Out pops her gorgeous breasts, which aren’t quite leaking just yet. He can tell they’re engorged, though, and that she needs some more relief.
Taking the milking machine off of the coffee table, he’s once more rather gentle with applying it to her nipples. Turning it on, and letting the gentle suction start releasing the creamy fluid from her breasts.
“Thank you…”
“Don’t thank me yet, I got something else for you.”
Trevor figures the sounds from the video are a bit more important than the visual elements, considering the other clips he’d received. Still standing in front of her, his thumbs hook into his shorts and he pulls them down to his ankles. She has an addiction to cum, so she may have been asking for help in two different ways this whole time. Now he understands it, and he can truly help Elena how she needs it.
His cock is rather hard, having been hard from the moment he woke up. Frankly, he could have jerked himself off and been fine with it. But he figured he might get Elena to fuck him again, so he held out. And he’s rather glad he did, now that he knows how much it helps her. A lot of guys talk about wanting a woman addicted to their cum, but actually having a cum addicted woman? A totally different thing, completely novel to him. He’s fine with it, though. So long as he can make her better along the way.
Elena immediately knows what to do. Her hands, still warm from her delicious mug of coffee, wrap around his cock tenderly. Those big brown eyes stare up at him, the hum of the audio and the whir of the milking machine echoing in her ears. It feels so good, to be able to have her breasts milked, with a fresh dose of cum right in her face. All she has to do is work for it.
Her tongue comes out, gently lapping at the head of his cock. Trevor lets out a small groan, his toes curling a bit. It’s been a long time since he had sex before last night, but even longer since he got his cock sucked. And, gotten it sucked properly? Probably never.
“That’s it, good girl…” he muses down at her as Elena parts her lips and suckles the head of his cock right into her mouth. Those toes curl a bit harder against the carpeted floor, his head lazily tossing back, eyes lidding to allow him to fully enjoy all the sensations.
Sucking cock is one of life’s few pleasures, or so Elena thinks. Maybe she even thought this before she became a sex slave. It’s hard to tell. Her mouth wraps tightly around his cock, her tongue lapping at the head as she starts to bob. Back and forth, taking down inch after inch of his cock. Pulling back to repeat the process, being steady with grinding her tongue against the underside of his shaft as she goes down further.
Groaning into the air, one of his hands moves to the back of her head, not pushing or pulling her movements, but resting there. Letting Elena know she’s doing an amazing job.
Elena swears she can smell his cum, the eagerness getting more intense in her stomach as she swallows down his precum. Just a taste of what she’s about to get. Bobbing her head back and forth, grinding her tongue against it, keeping her cheeks hollow, looking up at him with those big brown eyes.
“You’re perfect,” Trevor speaks over the hum from the television and whir of the milking machine.
Somehow, Elena knows that already. But it doesn’t go to her head. Rather, she shifts her movements to start putting pressure on the entrance to her throat. Feeling her movements change, Trevor groans at the feeling of his head sinking in and out of that entrance. It absolutely amazing, his whole body starting to tense up as a knot forms in his stomach.
“Gonna make me cum, sweetheart, my darling Elena,” he warns her, before his palm goes flat on the back of her head, pushing her down in desperation. Trevor begins to buck his hips, sinking his cock into her throat until his balls slap against her chin.
Groaning, panting, all Trevor can do is thrust. Thrust his cock past the entrance of her throat, fuck her mouth while she wildly grinds her tongue against it. Looking down, he can so those big brown eyes are watering, and he fucking loves it.
“Fuck! Fuck… fuck…” he moans out, his hand making a fist around her ponytail as he feels the knot in his stomach unraveling, feels his balls lurching upward, and the first hot rope of many shooting out and right into her stomach.
Elena moans loudly, as Trevor stops thrusting, she slams his cock as deep into her throat as she can get it, burying her nose in his pubic hair. She shakes her head, growling as she feels his hot, sticky seed shooting into her stomach. Elena’s throat muscles clench to swallow it down rapidly and keep from choking. Immediately, between the feeling of getting the milk out of her breasts and the cum being shot almost directly into her digestive track, she starts to feel much better.
The humming noises from the hypnosis track start to ring in her ears a bit heavier. Who is she? Where is she from? What was she trying to do when she got captured?
Shit.
As Trevor pulls his spent cock out of her mouth, Elena’s eyes flutter a good bit. She knows something, there’s something teetering on the edge of her brain and…
Her name is Miyuki. Miyuki Nakamura. She’s thirty one years old, and used to live in Seattle. Before she was taken as a sex slave, she had been investigating the people that took her. Miyuki used to work for the CIA, investigating heinous sex crimes, cyber crimes, and the worst of the worst society had to offer.
And she had been quite good at her job, on top of being a total bombshell when it came to her looks, she had been quite lethal. And effective in every job she had been given. Miyuki Nakamura never failed a mission.
Until she was taken captive.
And, even now, failure is no longer an option. Not just for her own revenge, but because she remembers how many other women are currently suffering. A lot of crucial information is coming back to her, information that even the FBI wouldn’t have just yet. Everything is flooding back to her mind and she thought it would have been more overwhelming than it actually is. Elena is processing it all properly, and she really needs to thank Trevor for that. There is so much she needs to thank him for…
Looking down at Elena, he sees a lot of flashes behind her eyes. Pulling his pants up, he stays hunched over to watch her and make sure she’s okay. It’s a little concerning, for a few moments Trevor worries that he may have overwhelmed her. Which isn’t what he wants. At all. “Wait right here,” he says as if the woman has the ability to leave this room.
He strides to his front door, yanking it open and approaching his mailbox. Sure enough, there’s a package in there and he snags it before dashing back inside and locking his front door properly. Something is happening to Elena, and he wants to make sure to keep her safe during it. The medication should, hopefully, help with that.
Carefully, he tears into the package and opens up the pill bottle. It’s Ativan, from what he can tell, and he’s heard it’s better than Xanax, so that’s a plus for sure. With a sigh, he gently places a pill on her tongue and returns her coffee cup to her hands. Elena manages to swallow the pill down without too much issue.
“Okay… you’re alright, yeah? Could be worse.” Trevor nods a bit as he retakes his seat next to her on the couch. Her face looks rather animated, like she’s actually thinking, feeling emotions, other than the pain of her intense brainwashing. It must have been so painful to go through, to have your mind so warped… shit, he can’t stop feeling awful for her. “I’m here for you, Elena.”
“My name is Miyuki Nakamura.”
Trevor blinks. Oh, shit, she just remembered her name. That’s fucking huge, and it brings yet another smile to his face. “Hi, Miyuki… not a bad name…”
“And I know who took me… I know who I am… I need your help. Please, please help me.”
Had she been asking for more intense help this whole time? Deeper than being milked and fed cum? Perhaps, but Trevor would rather not think about it. He made a promise to this woman, he swore he’d help her. So that’s exactly what he’s going to do. There’s no other option. Elena, err, Miyuki needs his assistance with something. That’s all he needs to hear. “Anything, anything at all.”
It’s just after midnight. Three days have passed since Miyuki Nakamura awoke from her brainwashing and conditioning. Things are different now. She’d told Trevor everything. That she used to work for the CIA, that she knew who took her, and that she can lead the SWAT team right to them.
She’d picked out her outfit. A black, shiny catsuit that hugs her insanely curvy body, and a pair of high heels that click and clack on the ground whenever she walks. She’d kept her hair in a ponytail, though. As Trevor was really onto something with that look being wonderful on her, as well as efficient.
It’s time for her revenge.
Miyuki led the swat team to a seemingly abandoned building just outside of Seattle, where she was originally from. However, she knows very well that this place is not abandoned. This place is hiding infinite secrets and she’s eager to shut it all down.
The sounds of her heels clicking on the floor echo in the building. Miyuki approaches a door on the main level, and moves a wooden panel to expose a keypad. She enters the pin.
8 9 2 4 9 0 2 8 9…
How could she ever forget that code? It’s embedded in her mind so heavily… she’ll never forget it. Nor will she forget the grin on her face when the door opened up, and the elevator chimed, and Miyuki Nakamura herself got to send in the SWAT team to go down and take them all out.
The SWAT raid resulted in three hundred arrests nationwide, and the liberation of thousands of sex slaves. During all of the chaos, however, Miyuki explained to Trevor that she had no family. No one, no children, no husband, her parents are dead and buried in Japan… she’s been a loner for quite some time, completely alone in the world and with no one to look out for her.
“The last time I’ve felt safe, truly safe,” Miyuki said as she and Trevor sit on his couch, where it all truly began for them, watching the news about the liberated women, all thanks to them both. “Was when you fucked me, when you had me tied down and you made me see stars.”
Shifting in his seat, he tries to hide his grin, focusing on the television. “I’m fond of you, too, Miyuki.”
“I’d like to remain your Elena, if you’re willing, I’d love to… be yours. And stay with you. Unless you would find it terrible and awkward.” Miyuki can’t help but giggle.
Wrapping an arm around her shoulder, he gives her a good squeeze. “You want to stay with me and get dominated every night, is that it?”
Leaning against him, she can’t help but exhale. “Yes. Please?”
“You don’t have to beg… not right now, at least. Unless…”
Miyuki places a hand on his chest, licking at her lips as she speaks. “Please, please help me.”
Trevor never anticipated his life would go this route.
Had you told him a week ago he’d be part of the SWAT team that liberated sex slaves from a local warehouse, he would have insisted that nothing like that would happen in his small town. That his position on the SWAT team is mostly through nepotism, and that he himself could never possibly do something so great for victims of a serious crime.
Trevor was wrong. Hilariously and humiliatingly so.
While he was called to a raid of a warehouse, he thought it would turn up absolutely nothing. But alas, the national media has been going insane with the findings. And in a lot of ways, he’s been promoted. Sort of.
The girl that he carried out of the warehouse, she seemed to cling to him. Refusing to speak to anyone but him, Which, he sort of took as a compliment. He never thought of himself as much, but he did something right. All he did was pick up the first woman he saw on the ground. He used his lock buster to get the chains off of her, wrapped her in a warm blanket, and then carried her to safety.
They still have no idea on who she is. Or any of the girls, minus three who were identified a few days ago. They’re the lucky ones, so people say. Yet the reality is that their families will not know what to do with them. Unfortunately, these women are a bit on the tainted side.
They’ve all been brainwashed into sex slavery.
A very complex type of brainwashing occurred. Not many people have any idea of how to combat it. The guys at the FBI are still working on it. But for Trevor, it’s all feeling a bit archaic. He was tasked with keeping the woman that attached herself to him. Because, what else were they supposed to do with the ones that attached themselves to the men who rescued them? Exactly. No one knew what to do, so those like Trevor got tasked with taking care of theirs.
Which is fine. He’d wanted to get, like, a Shih Tzu or a cat or something. Maybe some fish. The pay for this is good, at least. And all he has to do is stay home and protect her. Try to ease her mind into understanding she’s more than just a piece of meat.
The woman is rather gorgeous. Long black hair that Trevor brushes out and puts in a high ponytail, so that it gets dirty at a much slower rate. Porcelain skin with very few flaws or markings, given what the lady went through, he finds that rather surprising. Her eyes are a dark brown., when the light hits them properly, they look like delicate pools of honey.
However, he hasn’t get figured out how to get her to say her name. All she’s said thus far has been various things regarding pleasing him sexually. Which, for good reason, he’s turned down. There are lines someone shouldn’t cross, and Trevor is pretty sure taking advantage of a sex slave is one of those lines. Sure, he laughs at things he shouldn’t on the internet, but he’d still like to cross the pearly gates and dap Saint Peter up.
She’s Asian, she has huge natural breasts, and she’s lactating rather heavily. Other than that, and where he rescued her from, Trevor knows absolutely nothing else about her.
Every day, he gets new information on how to help her. He can submit concerns and inquiries to the FBI agents managing the case, and they’ve been fairly good about responding to him. However, today, he got a response he was not expecting.
In order to assist her with the issue of breast heaviness and prevent mastitis, we recommend milking her with either your hands or a breast pump. Or perhaps both, if she will allow you to touch her in such a way. Do let us know how this goes as it may assist the other women with lactation issues.
Well, shit.
He’s been calling her Elena. Not for any particular reason, it was just the first thing that came to mind when he realized he couldn’t keep calling her ‘woman’ or ‘ma’am’. It felt rude to him, since she’s living in his apartment now. Trevor rarely leaves her alone, so like everyone else in 2024, he ordered a breast pump from Amazon. He never thought he’d have videos on how to use such a thing in his YouTube history, yet, here he is, watching a video on how to properly use a breast pump.
The money’s worth it.
He keeps telling himself that.
Lately, though, her passes at him have gotten even more brazen. Elena began trying to take off his belt, and he wasn’t sure how to react. Wouldn’t taking advantage of her mental state be wrong? He doesn’t know what to do. As badly as he wants to keep his soul intact, he’s only human, he’s going to break down at some point. And he knows it.
Due to her tender condition, most of the time she spends is tied up. Trevor purchased a set of leather bondage restraints, they’re quite fancy. But this wasn’t really the use he had intended for them. It just sort of worked out that way.
With a tired look on his face, he walks into what used to be his guest bedroom. There Elena is, laying on her back on the bed in a pink night gown. The black restraints around her wrists and ankles are a stark contrast to her milky, porcelain skin.
“Please, please help me…”
It’s a common sentence from her. Trevor didn’t know exactly what she meant by that until he figured out she was begging for a milking. Apparently it can be quite painful for a woman’s breasts to get so full. If he had known that sooner, well, he could have helped her sooner. But, thankfully, no one expects him to be perfect in his care for her.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m here,” he says softly, nodding his shaggy brown hair out of his eyes. Elena wiggles a little bit, but doesn’t fight her constraints. She hasn’t really fought him on much of anything since he had her. Aside from her sexual advances at him. Yet, looking at her now in those restraints, and how much heavier her bust has gotten, Trevor wonders briefly if his resolves will truly prevail.
“Alright,” Trevor moves forward, taking a seat next to her on the bed. She’s warm, that’s his first thought as he feels her thigh against his lower back. Her skin’s so soft, and she’s just… gorgeous. So unbelievably gorgeous and alluring.
Shaking the thoughts out of his mind, she speaks again.
“Please, please, please help me.”
Holding onto the milking machine in his hand, he grabs one of the pumps and turns himself around, getting onto the bed on his knees.
Looking over her breasts, he finds them without flaw. Her nipples look painfully hard, leaking a little bit in a last ditch effort to get some relief. He really feels awful he didn’t figure this out sooner, or ask about it. Holding onto the pump, he gently presses it to her right nipple. Elena wiggles a little, but seems to let out a deep sigh as she knows what is about to come for her.
Relief. Sweet, sweet breast relief.
Trevor flips the switch on the first pump, and Elena lets out a rather satisfied groan. Applying the second pump to her left breast, she makes the same noise. He watches rather eagerly as her nipples get suckled into the machine, and an off-white liquid seems to start filling up the little bottles attached.
It’s actually pretty hot.
Swallowing a little, he steps off of the bed and simply watches her. As the milking machine takes care of her breasts, suckling her nipples and releasing the sweet milk that had been building up in her for days. His eyes watch as she gets her relief, and he begins to feel something stirring in his pants.
Shit, he’s getting hard! Watching her grind her thighs together for friction, watching her wrists and ankles grind against the restraints, the look of pure contentment on her face. Trevor doesn’t know what to do.
But, what if, crossing that line could help Elena? If this is her normal, what she’s been brainwashed into, and if it’s her normal, what if that means he can replicate those steps to undo the brainwashing? Or… is that all just a thought to justify why he’s unbuckling his belt? Something to make him feel less bad about removing his shirt and stepping out of his pants. Significantly less guilt about hooking his thumbs in his boxers and yanking them down as he steps towards the bed.
His long cock is getting significantly harder the more he watches. Elena seems to be none the wiser at the moment as she continues to writhe and moan in relief. Maybe he had been apprehensive about this at first, but now it makes sense in his mind.
To undo the damage, he has to do the things that were done to Elena, but in a non-damaging way.
Sometimes he can be so stupid. The answer was right in front of him the whole time.
As he crawls onto the bed, Elena opens her eyes. When she sees a man crawling on top of her, she stops grinding her thighs together, instead spreading her legs and relaxing the bondage restraints on her ankles significantly. Her deep brown eyes stare up into his greens, and the moans of relief turn into ones of need.
While she doesn’t talk much outside of expressing her need of help with being milked, Elena keeps staring up at Trevor as he gets on his knees between her legs. His eyes flick from her gorgeous breasts being milked by the machine, and down to her cunt. It’s wet. Wetter than he’s ever seen a woman be. Lifting his hand, he has to touch it, reaching his hand down between her legs and gently feeling how soaked she is. He shivers at the feeling. Elena’s cunt is hot, it’s wet, and that delicate hole feels so tight despite all she had gone through.
Elena whimpers a little as Trevor moves his fingers up and down her cunt. Naturally, she’s ready to take a rather good pounding. As the machine continues to drain her breasts, she becomes aware of the other thing in the room that needs to be drained. Trevor’s balls.
How long has it been since he got laid? Far too long. His cock is now completely hard, a drip of precum leaks from his tip, his head flared and angry. Removing his fingers from the stroking motions of Elena’s sopping cunt, he uses her sweet slick to stroke his cock. Getting it nice and wet as he angles his needy head against her entrance.
Elena bites her lip a little bit, lifting her head up to look down. Just in time to watch that hard, thick prick sinking right into her hole. She whimpers again before letting out a low moan. “Yes…” she whispers the word, licking at her lips as she watches on. More and more of his cock slipping inside of her.
Trevor grabs onto the sheets for dear life, his head hanging low as he pants through his breaths. She’s so tight! It’s like trying to fuck a wet fist, or tucking a hallway into a hot dog.
He keeps moving, shifting his hips and pushing his entire cock inside of her. Not stopping until he can feel the head of his cock pressed against her cervix. If only he could go further… but she’s such a good fit, he’s so deep inside of her, he can feel her walls throbbing around his prick.
There was never a chance he was going to last very long, not his first time being with her. Pulling his hips back, he starts to give her sharp, deep thrusts. Pulling out of her completely feels impossible. He’s panting and groaning, jutting his cock into her over and over again, spearing his cock, prying her walls apart.
“Ah! Yes!” Elena cries out more, her wrists pulling on the restraints as her body starts to twitch and convulse a bit. Trevor can’t take it, he needs to feel those amazing, immaculate, delicious breasts for himself. Quickly, he yanks the pump off of her, letting it clatter to the floor. Her hefty bust is still leaking milk, but he doesn’t care.
Grabbing onto both of her tits, Trevor squeezes them hard, feeling an ooze of liquid against his hands. Fuck! It feels so good, sinking his cock in and out of her so deeply, battering at her cervix as her tit flesh bubbles around his fingers. Elena’s delicious milk leaks out against his hands, making a rather big wet mess underneath of her on the sheets. Fuck it, he can clean it up later.
Elena keeps looking up at Trevor as if he’s a saint. His cock feels so good hammering in and out of her pussy, his balls smacking against her ass. It’s all so familiar to her, yet it feels so much different than the other guys.
That’s when it hits her.
She’s not in the warehouse anymore!
When she blinks, it suddenly looks like there might be someone home in her head after all this time. Trevor lets out a gasp as he sees this, some guilt setting into the pit of his stomach, but it’s impossible for him to stop throttling his cock in and out of her snatch.
“A-Are you okay?!” He asks, but still can’t stop, rocking the bed with his thrusts. Making her breasts shake in his powerful grasp.
“Yes! Oh, yes! Yes!” Elena nods, unable to really say another word other than the affirmative.
“Okay… okay, good!”
Trevor still can’t stop. The way her pussy is starting to tighten up, he can bet she’s about to cum. A blush forms on her body and he can tell she’s heating up. He keeps his grip on her breasts tight, using her restrained body as leverage to fuck her with everything he has. Slapping his balls against her ass in stinging plaps, letting her juices coat his entire sex and dribble out onto the bed. Fuck it all, he’ll clean up after her during her next bath… which is probably going to be tonight, considering how much she’s sweating. It’s all his fault.
Elena writhes and gasps underneath of Trevor, her eyes closing tight and her whole body shaking as her cunt starts to throb more intensely against his cock. As if trying to suckle the cum from straight from his balls.
She really was trained wonderfully… but he shouldn’t be thinking like that! He does want to help her, it’s just hard to focus on helping her when his cock is being drained dry.
It only takes mere seconds more of slamming his cock in and out of her pussy before Trevor erupts inside of her. He hilts himself, grinding his balls against her ass as he tosses his head back and groans loudly. Spurt after hot spurt of sticky cum floods Elena’s throbbing canal. Painting her insides white as his sweat drips from his brow onto her, and the bed.
Huffing, panting, he releases his firm grip on her breasts, only to find they’re still leaking quite heavily. “Ah, shit, lemme…”
With a great air of reluctance, Trevor pulls himself out of Elena’s messy pussy, a trail of his cum following his cock out. Stumbling off of the bed a bit, he grabs the machine, standing on his shaky legs and leaning over her.
“Yes, please, help me.” Elena says, though her gaze is a bit more tired now. And once again, it looks like she’s not all there in the head. Shit, he hates seeing that look returning. But he’ll figure something out. He always does.
Placing the milking machine back onto each of her reddened breasts, he lets out a little laugh. “We’ll work on that some more later. Get some rest. I’m gonna get a shower…”
Trevor enjoyed his shower, but his mind was in a flurry of different thoughts. He’d been fucking Elena, and it looked like she had a spark when it happened. Was it possible he was right? Could having sex with her, could milking her, keeping her comfortable be the key to freeing her mind of her severe brainwashing?
It almost makes sense. To wake her up from her nightmare, he needs to be good to her. Different than her captors. He needs to prove he’s better than all of this shit she went through in the warehouse. So that she can be reunited with her family.
That’s always the end goal, right?
What if he doesn’t want her to go away? No, it’s for the best. Truthfully, he can’t babysit her forever. And it’s very likely she won’t want to stick around once she remembers everything. She’s somebody’s daughter, someone’s sister, perhaps even someone’s mother. People are looking for her, maybe in another country. More than likely, once she remembers who she is, he’s not gonna see his Elena again.
While it hurts, he knows that’s how it has to be. His job right now is to help her in every way he can.
After getting himself dressed in a pair of loose fitting shorts, Trevor went back to check on Elena. Knowing full well she herself needs a good bath. He found the bottles on the milking machine were almost overwhelmed with how much they got. So he took them to the kitchen, dumping them out and giving them a good wash.
Once he got the milking machine back into one piece, he placed it on the sink in the guest en suite. Approaching Elena, she looks a good bit tired. As she should be. He put in a lot of work fucking her guts out, even if it was a bit short lived. No matter, he has a feeling he’ll be doing that again.
Getting the restraints off of her is easy. She doesn’t recoil or fight or try to run away. Doesn’t fight him off or make a run for it. It makes him smile a good bit, it’s a nice feeling to know she trusts him so much. Picking her up bridal style, Trevor is very careful carrying her to the en suite. Squatting down, he places her gently in the warm, bubbly water. He can swear he sees a smile on her face.
Elena has always liked bath time, in the few days he’s had her. She’s capable of sitting up on her own and assisting with her own washing, thankfully, so there isn’t a lot he really has to do for her. But he wants to. He wants to help wash her and talk to her and try to bring her out of her own mind.
Suddenly, his phone vibrates on the sink next to the milking machine.
“Shit, don’t go anywhere,” he says with a little smirk as he stands up and walks to the sink. Elena seems to be watching him with her big brown eyes. There’s something about him that makes her truly comfortable, she really can’t deny it. Unfortunately, she doesn’t know why. It’s becoming obvious to her that there’s something trying to claw out of her. Out of her mind, her throat, through her tongue.
Elena, the real Elena, the one before she became a sex slave, desperately wants to be freed. Not that she could ever communicate that to him, or to anyone else, really.
So what can she do besides enjoy her time in the bath?
Checking his phone, he finds an email from one of the FBI agents. What;s inside is rather intriguing.
Research has found these women were brainwashed through hypnotic videos and subliminal messaging. We’ve known this since before the warehouse was discovered, and thankfully we’ve finished a beta version of a hypnotic video and audio segment that may assist in undoing some of the damage. We will have different versions available and emailed to you keeps directly. Keep us updated on any results.
Well, that’s unexpected.
He downloads the video, figuring he’ll play it for her while he bathes her and gives her another round on the milking machine. Maybe it’ll work, maybe it’ll help bring the real Elena out. Getting a glimpse of her earlier, it was actually something gorgeous. Even if he might lose her eventually, he wants to help her as best he can.
Trevor hangs his phone on the faucet using his Popsocket, taking a few moments to load up the video and press play. His hand reaches for Elena’s head, gently turning her focus away from him and onto the phone across from her.
The video contains a lot of spiraling white lines on a black background. If he looks at it for too long, it hurts his eyes pretty severely. So he sits on his knees by the bathtub, flipping the switches on her milking machine and properly attaching the pumps once more. Making sure they’re on tight, he feels his cock twitching again as her nipples get suckled and her sweet cream begins to fill up the bottles.
Various words flash across the screen, so fast no one would really catch onto them unless they expected them to be there. As the spiral goes around and around in circles, Elena’s sole focus becomes staring at the video. For the first time, she’s useless during her bath. But somehow, Trevor expected that. If the videos are gonna work, she has to have her entire focus on them.
REMEMBER.
BREATHE.
UNLOCK YOUR MIND.
OPEN YOUR MIND.
RELAX YOUR BODY
INHALE.
WHO ARE YOU?
EXHALE.
The swirls reflect in Elena’s eyes as she stares. What is she supposed to remember? How does she unlock her mind? Who is she? As she watches, she realizes she’s being milked. And it feels so good, it’s such a relieving feeling. Hopefully she’ll be empty soon.
While she watches the video, Trevor goes about washing her body. He cleans under her breasts, scrubs her back, releases her ponytail and makes sure he washes her hair very well. Letting her get and stay dirty wouldn’t be good for her, especially considering the filthy conditions they found her in.
Next, he washes her cunt. Gently rubbing it and getting it clean, making sure his cum gets washed away properly. Every few moments, he gives her face a glance. She’s staring so intently at the video, barely blinking.
It’s kind of creepy.
But it becomes less creepy when he remembers this is something that’s going to help her. As he washes and rinses her, he continues to check on various things. Mostly her, making sure she’s okay, watching her face to make sure she’s still awake. Making sure Elena is still breathing, and glimpsing at the video.
It’s rather disorienting, hurts his eyes, so he doesn’t look at it very often or for long. Once she’s fully rinsed off, he turns the video off and stuffs his phone into his back pocket. He’s realizing something, she hasn’t made a sexual advance at him the entire time he’d been washing her down!
“Hey! I guess we’re making progress after all, huh?” Trevor knows she can’t answer him. But he does like to talk to her when he does things to or for her. “Alright, let’s empty these bottles…” unlatching the bottles from the pump, he dumps them into the soapy water before dunking them underneath and gently washing them. He turns the faucet on to rinse them out properly, not sure about the proper care for such items, but, he’s doing his damned best at this job.
Yanking on the drain plug, he stands up to grab a towel, turning around and drying Elena’s hair, then her body as the water goes down lower and lower. He really cares for her, taking his time to make sure every possible inch of her body are properly dried out. Part of him seems to thrive in this caregiver role, though he never truly imagined himself in it.
Finally, to end the day, Trevor places her in a chair in the guest room while he replaces her messy sheets and blankets. It only takes a few minutes, but in that time, Trevor’s already received another email.
“Oh come on!” he cries out, wondering what new ‘research’ could exist in the hour he had her naked and soaped up. Taking a small break from replacing the sheets, Trevor opens up his phone to read this email.
Attached is a special set of hypnosis-reversing audio. Play one while she sleeps, play one when she wakes up, and play another whenever you must leave her completely alone in the home. They are labeled accordingly.
Okay, fine, but he still thinks that could have been put in the first email. He’s glad they have more things to help these girls, to help his Elena, but come on! Oh well. “Simple enough. Okay. Let’s get you back into bed.”
Trevor gently lifts Elena bridal style once more and lays her on her back in her bed. One by one, he carefully places those nice leather restraints back onto her limbs. “Goodnight… Elena.”
“… Goodnight, Trevor.”
Trevor feels his eyes go rather wide. Did she..? “… you know my name?!” Progress! Progress is progress! And this, admittedly, is pretty damn good progress. The smile on his face widens as he moves to cover her up with the fresh blanket. “Yeah! Yeah, my name’s Trevor. I carried you out of that warehouse… you never wanted to leave my side. It took a lot to get you to sleep by yourself. A lot of screaming, a lot of crying, you know.”
But when he looks at Elena again, her eyes are blanked out like someone high on painkillers, and she doesn’t really response. Opening her mouth, as if waiting to take his cock into her mouth. He lets out a small sigh, reaching down to gently pat the back of her head, moving her ponytail a little bit. At least she’s doing a bit better now. With a sigh, he takes his phone out once more and starts streaming the sleep audio to the Bluetooth speaker in the guest room.
Hopefully, it does something.
Morning breaks and Trevor opens his eyes to the sound of his alarm going off on his phone. It had been a rather quiet night, one that had him sleep completely through it due to getting to blow a load in his Elena. He remembers it so vividly, he doubts he’ll ever forget it. Hopefully he gets to do it again. But, of course, he won’t force her.
If Elena gets all of her memories back, and doesn’t want to fuck him anymore, Trevor will be okay with that. He’s not a monster. The monsters are who he rescued her from, after all.
Their morning routine carries on as normal. He puts her in a new dress, but notices she’s being more helpful than usual. Actually putting her arms in the dress and smiling at him. Though she didn’t speak again, not her usual sentences or his name or telling him good morning like she said goodnight. Yet he notices those glimpses in her eyes, tiny little beacons of hope that tells Trevor someone is indeed inside of her head.
Hopefully one day, he gets to know her properly.
Elena had breakfast, and then Trevor decided to settle her on the couch. In her little pink dress, she looks rather cute. He can’t help but smile at her as much as possible. “Alright, we’re going to try that video again, on the big television…” once more, he knows she can’t or won’t respond to what he says, but he says it anyway. Humanizing her at every chance he gets. It makes him feel better about the entire situation.
Elena, however, gives a soft nod and a smile. It takes him back a little bit, but he returns the smile as he starts casting the video to his living room television. Just like last night, he can’t really look at the screen for too long. It hurts his head, his brain, too. Because he knows who he is. He knows to breathe.
The audio in the video, he’s realizing, is a low hum. It’s not too different from the warbled humming hypnosis audio he’d put on for her last night. Assuming he’d missed the sounds of the video the previous night because of the sounds of water and being so preoccupied with Elena’s washing and care, he’d tuned it out. It almost makes him feel weird to be hearing such noises.
But, he ignores his own discomfort, for her sake.
Nothing is about him right now, after all. It’s all about making her feel better. Getting her to remember. Blah, blah… blah.
“I’m gonna grab some coffee, Elena.” Trevor’s still trying to humanize her. The FBI agents haven’t said it helps, but it helps him feel better.
“I’ll have mine black.”
As he’s walking into his kitchen, he turns on his heel. She spoke?! Elena wants coffee?! Okay, maybe this video, those audios, are doing exactly what they thought. “Absolutely! One black coffee for you, one black coffee…”
While he walks into the kitchen with that smile plastered on his face, he repeats her words in his mind. Elena does have a gorgeous voice. Cackling a little as he sets the coffee pot to brew something strong, his phone once again vibrates and chimes with an email alert. This time, it’s not annoying. So long as he doesn’t get another one an hour later, with the same fucking information that could have been included in the first fucking one. Fuck.
We’ve discovered the women have been hypnotized in a manner that makes them addicted to semen. While this may seem unethical to most, we’re suggesting that if you are comfortable accepting sexual advances from the woman in your care, please do accept them. It will not harm them in any way, and in exposing them to semen in this safe environment, the symptoms of withdrawal in all aspects will fade alongside the reversal audios and videos. No adverse effects have been reported from this method of treatment. Benzodiazepines have been dropped off in your mailboxes to be administered after these events of sexual contact with the woman in your care, just to be on the safe side regarding adverse reactions.
Extremely unexpected, well, that would be an understatement. Cum addiction?! It explains a lot, actually. Elena had told him goodnight for the first time shortly after he came inside of her. His best assumption is any hole receiving cum has that effect on her. And to think, he had been apprehensive about taking her up on her passes at him. It could have been a way for him to help her this whole time!
“Well, today’s full of surprises, isn’t it?” Trevor laughs to himself, tucking his phone into his pocket as the coffee machine beeps. He takes his time to pour them both a good mug, making sure to keep hers black, loading his own down with lots of sugar and creamer.
Walking back into his living room, he happily passes off the mug to Elena. Her hands are a little shaky, but she manages to take it and take a nice, long gulp. It makes Trevor smile yet again as he takes a seat on the couch next to her. And just watches, since he can’t look at the television, watches the gorgeous woman as she drinks down her coffee.
“Glad to hear that you… you know, can say more than you used to. It’s quite nice, you do have a lovely voice.”
Elena doesn’t talk back to him, she simply sits there drinking her coffee.
“Do you like the name I gave you? Elena? I got it from a book I read when I was a kid. Can’t remember the name of it. But I always liked the name,” he muses a little bit as he takes a few drinks of his own coffee. “Rolls off of the tongue pretty well.”
Of course, she doesn’t say anything. Her deep brown eyes are focused on the television as she looks over her mug, seemingly inhaling the aroma in a rather needy fashion in between sips and drinks. Trevor wonders what she’s thinking about, if she’s thinking anything at all. Every few moments he gets those glimpses again, glimpses of someone being behind those glassed over eyes.
“Yeah, I used to read a lot…” he says while still watching her.
Finally, her lips part and her tongue flecks out. She’s gonna speak! Trevor’s on the edge of his seat, wondering what she might say to him. Something worthwhile. Something… impactful, a glimpse into who she really is. Something to help the agents find her family, perhaps?
“Please, please help me.”
Nope.
“Of course, I’ll always help you. That’s what I’m here for…” However, Trevor has another idea. Approaching Elena, he takes her coffee mug and places it with his on the coffee table. Sighing lowly, he gently eases the straps of her dress down. Out pops her gorgeous breasts, which aren’t quite leaking just yet. He can tell they’re engorged, though, and that she needs some more relief.
Taking the milking machine off of the coffee table, he’s once more rather gentle with applying it to her nipples. Turning it on, and letting the gentle suction start releasing the creamy fluid from her breasts.
“Thank you…”
“Don’t thank me yet, I got something else for you.”
Trevor figures the sounds from the video are a bit more important than the visual elements, considering the other clips he’d received. Still standing in front of her, his thumbs hook into his shorts and he pulls them down to his ankles. She has an addiction to cum, so she may have been asking for help in two different ways this whole time. Now he understands it, and he can truly help Elena how she needs it.
His cock is rather hard, having been hard from the moment he woke up. Frankly, he could have jerked himself off and been fine with it. But he figured he might get Elena to fuck him again, so he held out. And he’s rather glad he did, now that he knows how much it helps her. A lot of guys talk about wanting a woman addicted to their cum, but actually having a cum addicted woman? A totally different thing, completely novel to him. He’s fine with it, though. So long as he can make her better along the way.
Elena immediately knows what to do. Her hands, still warm from her delicious mug of coffee, wrap around his cock tenderly. Those big brown eyes stare up at him, the hum of the audio and the whir of the milking machine echoing in her ears. It feels so good, to be able to have her breasts milked, with a fresh dose of cum right in her face. All she has to do is work for it.
Her tongue comes out, gently lapping at the head of his cock. Trevor lets out a small groan, his toes curling a bit. It’s been a long time since he had sex before last night, but even longer since he got his cock sucked. And, gotten it sucked properly? Probably never.
“That’s it, good girl…” he muses down at her as Elena parts her lips and suckles the head of his cock right into her mouth. Those toes curl a bit harder against the carpeted floor, his head lazily tossing back, eyes lidding to allow him to fully enjoy all the sensations.
Sucking cock is one of life’s few pleasures, or so Elena thinks. Maybe she even thought this before she became a sex slave. It’s hard to tell. Her mouth wraps tightly around his cock, her tongue lapping at the head as she starts to bob. Back and forth, taking down inch after inch of his cock. Pulling back to repeat the process, being steady with grinding her tongue against the underside of his shaft as she goes down further.
Groaning into the air, one of his hands moves to the back of her head, not pushing or pulling her movements, but resting there. Letting Elena know she’s doing an amazing job.
Elena swears she can smell his cum, the eagerness getting more intense in her stomach as she swallows down his precum. Just a taste of what she’s about to get. Bobbing her head back and forth, grinding her tongue against it, keeping her cheeks hollow, looking up at him with those big brown eyes.
“You’re perfect,” Trevor speaks over the hum from the television and whir of the milking machine.
Somehow, Elena knows that already. But it doesn’t go to her head. Rather, she shifts her movements to start putting pressure on the entrance to her throat. Feeling her movements change, Trevor groans at the feeling of his head sinking in and out of that entrance. It absolutely amazing, his whole body starting to tense up as a knot forms in his stomach.
“Gonna make me cum, sweetheart, my darling Elena,” he warns her, before his palm goes flat on the back of her head, pushing her down in desperation. Trevor begins to buck his hips, sinking his cock into her throat until his balls slap against her chin.
Groaning, panting, all Trevor can do is thrust. Thrust his cock past the entrance of her throat, fuck her mouth while she wildly grinds her tongue against it. Looking down, he can so those big brown eyes are watering, and he fucking loves it.
“Fuck! Fuck… fuck…” he moans out, his hand making a fist around her ponytail as he feels the knot in his stomach unraveling, feels his balls lurching upward, and the first hot rope of many shooting out and right into her stomach.
Elena moans loudly, as Trevor stops thrusting, she slams his cock as deep into her throat as she can get it, burying her nose in his pubic hair. She shakes her head, growling as she feels his hot, sticky seed shooting into her stomach. Elena’s throat muscles clench to swallow it down rapidly and keep from choking. Immediately, between the feeling of getting the milk out of her breasts and the cum being shot almost directly into her digestive track, she starts to feel much better.
The humming noises from the hypnosis track start to ring in her ears a bit heavier. Who is she? Where is she from? What was she trying to do when she got captured?
Shit.
As Trevor pulls his spent cock out of her mouth, Elena’s eyes flutter a good bit. She knows something, there’s something teetering on the edge of her brain and…
Her name is Miyuki. Miyuki Nakamura. She’s thirty one years old, and used to live in Seattle. Before she was taken as a sex slave, she had been investigating the people that took her. Miyuki used to work for the CIA, investigating heinous sex crimes, cyber crimes, and the worst of the worst society had to offer.
And she had been quite good at her job, on top of being a total bombshell when it came to her looks, she had been quite lethal. And effective in every job she had been given. Miyuki Nakamura never failed a mission.
Until she was taken captive.
And, even now, failure is no longer an option. Not just for her own revenge, but because she remembers how many other women are currently suffering. A lot of crucial information is coming back to her, information that even the FBI wouldn’t have just yet. Everything is flooding back to her mind and she thought it would have been more overwhelming than it actually is. Elena is processing it all properly, and she really needs to thank Trevor for that. There is so much she needs to thank him for…
Looking down at Elena, he sees a lot of flashes behind her eyes. Pulling his pants up, he stays hunched over to watch her and make sure she’s okay. It’s a little concerning, for a few moments Trevor worries that he may have overwhelmed her. Which isn’t what he wants. At all. “Wait right here,” he says as if the woman has the ability to leave this room.
He strides to his front door, yanking it open and approaching his mailbox. Sure enough, there’s a package in there and he snags it before dashing back inside and locking his front door properly. Something is happening to Elena, and he wants to make sure to keep her safe during it. The medication should, hopefully, help with that.
Carefully, he tears into the package and opens up the pill bottle. It’s Ativan, from what he can tell, and he’s heard it’s better than Xanax, so that’s a plus for sure. With a sigh, he gently places a pill on her tongue and returns her coffee cup to her hands. Elena manages to swallow the pill down without too much issue.
“Okay… you’re alright, yeah? Could be worse.” Trevor nods a bit as he retakes his seat next to her on the couch. Her face looks rather animated, like she’s actually thinking, feeling emotions, other than the pain of her intense brainwashing. It must have been so painful to go through, to have your mind so warped… shit, he can’t stop feeling awful for her. “I’m here for you, Elena.”
“My name is Miyuki Nakamura.”
Trevor blinks. Oh, shit, she just remembered her name. That’s fucking huge, and it brings yet another smile to his face. “Hi, Miyuki… not a bad name…”
“And I know who took me… I know who I am… I need your help. Please, please help me.”
Had she been asking for more intense help this whole time? Deeper than being milked and fed cum? Perhaps, but Trevor would rather not think about it. He made a promise to this woman, he swore he’d help her. So that’s exactly what he’s going to do. There’s no other option. Elena, err, Miyuki needs his assistance with something. That’s all he needs to hear. “Anything, anything at all.”
It’s just after midnight. Three days have passed since Miyuki Nakamura awoke from her brainwashing and conditioning. Things are different now. She’d told Trevor everything. That she used to work for the CIA, that she knew who took her, and that she can lead the SWAT team right to them.
She’d picked out her outfit. A black, shiny catsuit that hugs her insanely curvy body, and a pair of high heels that click and clack on the ground whenever she walks. She’d kept her hair in a ponytail, though. As Trevor was really onto something with that look being wonderful on her, as well as efficient.
It’s time for her revenge.
Miyuki led the swat team to a seemingly abandoned building just outside of Seattle, where she was originally from. However, she knows very well that this place is not abandoned. This place is hiding infinite secrets and she’s eager to shut it all down.
The sounds of her heels clicking on the floor echo in the building. Miyuki approaches a door on the main level, and moves a wooden panel to expose a keypad. She enters the pin.
8 9 2 4 9 0 2 8 9…
How could she ever forget that code? It’s embedded in her mind so heavily… she’ll never forget it. Nor will she forget the grin on her face when the door opened up, and the elevator chimed, and Miyuki Nakamura herself got to send in the SWAT team to go down and take them all out.
The SWAT raid resulted in three hundred arrests nationwide, and the liberation of thousands of sex slaves. During all of the chaos, however, Miyuki explained to Trevor that she had no family. No one, no children, no husband, her parents are dead and buried in Japan… she’s been a loner for quite some time, completely alone in the world and with no one to look out for her.
“The last time I’ve felt safe, truly safe,” Miyuki said as she and Trevor sit on his couch, where it all truly began for them, watching the news about the liberated women, all thanks to them both. “Was when you fucked me, when you had me tied down and you made me see stars.”
Shifting in his seat, he tries to hide his grin, focusing on the television. “I’m fond of you, too, Miyuki.”
“I’d like to remain your Elena, if you’re willing, I’d love to… be yours. And stay with you. Unless you would find it terrible and awkward.” Miyuki can’t help but giggle.
Wrapping an arm around her shoulder, he gives her a good squeeze. “You want to stay with me and get dominated every night, is that it?”
Leaning against him, she can’t help but exhale. “Yes. Please?”
“You don’t have to beg… not right now, at least. Unless…”
Miyuki places a hand on his chest, licking at her lips as she speaks. “Please, please help me.”
1
7.6K
0
1
In a distant future, women are trained to be sex slaves and bought by wealthy men through Matchmaking Lovers, Inc. Follow the tale of Rinata, and her first experience with her husband, the man that paid for her and left her clear rules for his expectations.
The world is an almost abysmal dystopia of neon lights and salesmen now. The glow of the sun is barely missed when nightfall comes around, the world being bathed not only in reflective moon rays but in the new moon created through neon tubes. A world covered in cables was never wired to last. But the world is not yet over, things are not dead.
On the contrary, the landscape is a bustling metropolis. For some it’s a nightmare, and for others it’s the dream. If you can look past people begging for money on the streets and others trying to sell you a magical capsule to cure your common cold, or a new implant for your arm of course.
Matchmaking Lovers, Inc. is a large company. Anyone can walk into a business and see their advertisements on vending machine screens. The company takes girls off the streets, cleans them up, and gives them a shot to be somebody in this ever changing society.
Or, at the very least, married to a somebody.
This tends to be the case more often than not. Rinata Soumova had expected this, she didn’t think she’d end up as more than a trophy wife. A gorgeous piece of decor for a man to show off at parties. A way for him to look like a family man to potential clients in whatever lucrative business he was a part of. But she’s been shocked.
Damon Moore is not that type of man. He’s devilishly handsome, of course he is. Dirty blonde hair cut neatly, deep blue eyes, and an athletic build. But he’s also smart. He doesn’t just see this as an arranged marriage that he paid for, no, not at all. Damon sees this as a partnership of sorts. While this woman may be ‘beneath’ him, she’s beneath him in the way a junior-level employee is to a senior-level employee.
The house he lives in is more humble than one would expect from a man like him. While most people of his level in life live in rather expensive mansions, siphoning up the city’s limited resources, Damon’s home is small compared to the rest of his comrades. Only six bedrooms, four bathrooms, and the kitchen is just a tad on the small side.
Ignoring the pool in the backyard, it’s an average house you’d see one of his own employees owning.
Rinata thought it was a bit strange when she first arrived. It wasn’t what she expected, yet not in a disappointing way. Imagining a mansion so large they’d have to send a search party for her was not fun. It was part of what she anticipated, but upon arrival, relief washed over her at the home the man who purchased her as his bride was possibly level-headed.
Although she’s been at the home, her new home, the home she shall share with her husband for three days. Three days without meeting him. It’s unfortunate her ‘delivery’ date was scheduled during a trip he had to take for work.
In so many ways, she’s grateful for this, though. It’s given her time to adapt to the environment. To get comfortable with the laundry list of expectations and understand what Damon expects of her. Things he likes, things he’ll expect of her sexually. Rinata believes her husband might be a rather easy man to please.
Things he listed as vital are already things Rinata enjoys. The black leather collar with a heart shaped hook has only left her neck three times since her arrival… and that was to shower. Rinata has found this color looks good on her, an arousing clash to her lightly olived skin.
The second closet in the master bedroom was filled with clothes, too. Mostly… jeans. It was how Rinata learned Damon has a thing for denim, and she embraced it. Honestly, she isn’t sure she ever owned an actual pair of jeans in her entire life up until now. But she likes them. She likes the way the fabric holds onto her skin, perking that bubble butt up significantly more and making her hips and thighs look more like a buffet than ever.
Rain gives a pitter patter effect on the roof. It’s a cold, muggy day. Dreary, making the neon a faded and blurry mess as it shines through the watery fog. Inside the house, it’s warm. The fireplace crackles with the sound of dry wood being roasted. Rinata even threw in a few pine cones. It’s a simple pleasure, watching them slowly turn orange. Into fiery skeletons before the ashen petals start to crumble away and fall to the bottom.
How fitting is it that the sun disappears when Damon is due home? Silently as she sits on the sofa with a glass of wine in her hand, Rinata hopes and prays this isn’t an omen for the relationship ahead. But how could it be? While he may not seem excited based on the few notes he’d left her, the truth is Damon Moore is in nothing but bliss at what he knows he gets to come home to.
A gorgeous woman.
Devoted to him, and only him.
He’s seen her pictures. Of course he has. Would be really stupid to buy a wife without seeing what she looks like, right? Matchmaking Lovers Inc. pairs men with brides based on personality, lifestyle wishes, and aesthetic pleasure. If a couple will look good together, it matters to the company. It reflects back on them as a business. And in this world of the neon moon, image is damn near anything to keep the money flowing.
The front door alarm makes a few beeps, the sound of numbers being hit on a keypad signals his arrival. Damon’s returned home at long last. And though he carries himself with an air of indifference, his heart is pounding at what he knows is waiting for him inside.
Rinata stands up from the couch, killing down the rest of the Merlot in her glass. Her bare feet patter on the floors as she scrambles into the kitchen to place the glass in the sink. Once the dish is where it belongs, then she trots into the hallway. A deep breath gets sucked into her lungs.
Making it to the hallway before Damon gets the door open, he’s met with such a gorgeous sight.
Rinata in her color. A pair of dark blue denim jeans clinging to her hips, tightly roaming over her thighs and down those dream-worthy legs. And her torso completely bare, showing off her somewhat small by societal standards, yet absolutely gorgeous breasts.
Most importantly is the smile on her face as she stands there with her hands clasped behind her back. Damon had not been expecting the woman to be happy to see him. He isn’t sure why he made such an assumption, though. Rinata already looks like she’s on cloud nine and he hasn’t even closed the door yet.
When the door finally closes, James sets his luggage down and starts slipping his feet out of his shoes. No need to carry anything, one of the maids will handle it… do the maids come today? Traveling disorients him pretty easily, he could think it’s Friday but it’s Tuesday and he’s missed something important.
But nothing’s more important than Rinata right now. Their eyes stay locked as he kicks his shoes to the side. The young woman can feel her heart beating in her chest, pounding against her rib cage as he takes slow steps towards her.
“Even more breathtaking than your photos,” Damon insists as a smile crosses over his lips.
Rinata can’t help but blush. “Thank you… not a slouch yourself. Not what I expected.”
Damon is still walking towards her, but his smile deepens. “I’d hate to know what you expected, then. It might offend me, huh?”
Smiling, Rinata gives a nod. “More than likely, actually.”
“Lucky for us both, I expected you to be gorgeous. And you are.”
Finally, Damon’s close enough to touch her, looking down into her eyes, blue meeting blue. His right hand raises up slowly, brushing some of her brown hair to the side. Not only is he finding she’s fucking gorgeous, but she smells like pure heaven as well. A sweet vanilla-mint scent of perfume, with the musky scent of her body wash, and the faintest hint of lavender from her hair.
All scents he had picked out himself, of course. He made sure the bathroom was stocked with whatever she could need, but made sure to tailor it to what translated the best to his own tastes. Just… more feminine, of course. No need for him to smell half as good as she did, either.
But that being said, Damon did smell good. A musky, floral cologne wafted off of his body and into Rinata’s senses, invigorating her as they stood there in the hallway coming off the foyer.
He leans down, pressing a kiss to her lips. Rinata, almost hungrily, returns the kiss, her hands going to gently rest on his chest.
Before she joined the matchmaking company, as they liked to present themselves in lieu of admitting it’s slavery with benefits for the girls involved, Rinata was not a very happy woman. Her life was rough, it’s rough being the child of immigrants anyway.
But her home life was terrible. Plagued with alcoholism, her parents were either neglectful on a good day, or down right evil and abusive on a bad day. Often times, the girl was forced to fend for herself. Eating whatever and whenever she could, which amounted to scraps and not very often. Hemming her own clothes and doing repairs to keep the household running as smoothly as possible.
Rinata Soumova grew up before she was ready, as do most girls in this business.
And she saw this as her chance to finally be safe. If she plays her cards right, if she keeps her owner-husband happy? She just might make it out alive on the other side. It also helps, of course, that Damon appears kind. That he’s handsome and seems to truly care about her already. At least enough to sweet talk her and give her compliments. When, oh so very clearly, he doesn’t have to. Not when he already paid for her. He owns her. There’s no need for the frills and the attempts at wooing her. Rinata is already fully swooned and in love by the legal definitions of such.
Yet he’s still kissing her sweetly. Their lips meet and it feels like electricity is crackling in their veins. Damon lets out a low sigh, as if the tension of his business trip is melting away just from one simple kiss. Perhaps he’s a more simple man than either of them thought.
The kissing gradually heats up. Rinata welcomes Damon’s tongue into her mouth and suckles on it a little bit while her hands continue to roam his chest. Though she finds his clothes are getting in the way. Clothes are such tedious things, aren’t they? First, her hands slip to his tie.
The standard tie knot is easy enough to undo, her lightly manicured fingers work the knot out and sling the item to the floor. At this moment it becomes clear that Rinata, the slave-wife he paid for, is more hungry for their first time as husband and wife than Damon is.
He groans as he starts to force Rinata to walk backwards, reversing the position of their tongues until hers is in his mouth. Damon suckles on her tongue in turn, lips still moving together as his hands rest on those hips. Those fingers on denim, and on milky, soft flesh.
He continues to walk her backwards during the heated kissing. Content to keep her in those jeans for as long as possible, adoring the way they hug her form just right.
Rinata wants Damon out of those clothes as fast as possible. Her slender fingers work the buttons of his shirt open, moving downward quickly as her feet start to walk backwards up the stars. How badly she craves him, the urge to please the man saving her from a life of squalor is intense. Inside of those jeans, Rinata’s panties are getting quite wet. Soaking the pink fabric as the duo take turns sucking each other’s tongues.
Damon is careful with Rinata now, walking her backwards up the stairs, guiding her as much as he can without being able to see where either of them are really going. Though, Damon is more than aware of his destination with her.
The bedroom. Their bedroom.
In the middle of the stair-walk, Rinata finally gets his shirt unbuttoned and helps his shoulders shrug out of the fabric. It hits the floor, a trail of his work attire leaving making a line towards the bedroom.
Her hands once again go to roam at his chest, it’s bare now and she shivers a moan into the kiss at the feeling of muscles. He’s rather toned, sculpted like a true God among men. It does nothing but make the wetness in her panties more significant.
Rinata is fully aware she hit every possible jackpot when Damon chose her.
Finally at the top of the stairs, Rinata works off his belt, tossing it away as she quickly unbuttons his pants. His new slave-wife is hungry for him, starved for more. Desperately needing to taste what she has been missing in her life. It’s hard to know exactly what you’ve been missing until it’s right in front of you. Until that special something has a collar around your neck and his tongue in your mouth.
Damon hooks his thumbs in his slacks, pulling away from the kiss for the first time since the hallway so he can pull the garment down and step out of it in tandem with his boxers. The faint blue glow of the hallway light, how it catches Rinata’s skin. For a brief moment, Damon thinks she looks purely angelic.
Maybe she is. He knows very little of her background. Rinata could have fallen from heaven and landed in his life for all he knows. He likes that thought. His own little angel to turn into a devil, a demon of pleasure, his personal succubus.
To Damon, she’s the most gorgeous thing in the world. Now, and forever.
Rinata grabs his wrist, all but running with him the rest of the way to the bedroom. A similar light radiates, and Damon will find not only is the bed made but the room is as spotless as he left it. Not a housekeeper by any standards, but Rinata found it important to keep his space clean. A good way to assure he would want to keep her around.
Aside from her sexiness in those jeans.
Before Damon can compliment, or even process the state Rinata has kept their bedroom in, the young woman of Russian heritage is sinking down onto her knees in front of him. This makes his jaw drop for a moment, before he can process what it means. He’s taken aback at the concept of a woman on her knees for him before he even has to ask. There was no suggestion to it.
She simply moved almost based on his thoughts and his thoughts alone.
Once on her knees, sinking those knees hidden behind dark denim into the carpeted floor, her hands wrap around his cock. For a second, she simply stares at it, marveling at the glorious piece of meat she’s found herself married to.
“Don’t be afraid to teach me how you like having your cock sucked, Sir,” Rinata speaks, her voice as melodic and honey coated as it had been in the hallway.
Damon gives a nod, his hands moving to bunch the brown hair up and out of that gorgeous face. She has a lot of hair, soft in his hands, but he manages to keep it out of her way using one hand placed on the back of her head.
“Lick me first,” Damon instructs her with a soft nod.
Rinata doesn’t even have to think about it. That pink muscle parts her lips and immediately goes to the head of his cock. She laps at it softly, slowly letting her tongue circle around the sensitive bundle of nerves. Damon groans, his eyes closing as his head falls back, content noises leaving his throat.
Rinata continues licking his cock, wrapping her tongue around his head before she removes a hand, letting it travel further downward to cup his balls gently, sweetly, with a delicate squeeze. Pain was not the goal, after all… unless he requested it.
“Fuck…” Damon cursed as he felt his breath hitch in his throat.
Her tongue continued to travel along his cock. Down his base, wrapping around it as much as she could, before pulling back up to circle his head. Coating his fuck stick with her saliva happily. His taste was salty, musky, clean, and ultimately delicious. Sucking cock is one of life’s few pleasures, after all. Rinata is enjoying every second of it.
“Suck me, baby,” Damon instructs next. Not that her tongue isn’t absolutely amazing. But he wants to explore more of her, he needs to feel those lips on his cock.
Rinata nods. “Yes, Sir.”
Those pink lips part happily, a soft moan escaping as they wrap around the head of his cock. Once more that tongue because lashing at the tip, causing another deep groan to fall from Damon’s mouth. Rinata’s good at this, and he’s enjoying every single movement.
The fun does not stop with his head in her mouth, no, Rinata moves downward, pushing more of his cock inside. Gently, Damon pushes on the back of her head, sinking more and more of his thick length into the depths. Once he feels his head prodding the entrance to Rinata’s throat, he stops pushing.
There’s another moan from his slave-wife as she starts to bob her head. Slowly dragging her lips back up his cock until only the head remains, and back down until her lips touch her hand. Those olive cheeks sink in a bit, lips going tighter as she starts to create more suction.
Damon’s in bliss, pulling lightly at her head, guiding her movements a good bit, but mostly letting Rinata show off her skills. He’s not gonna complain about a damn thing, not when she’s so damn good at this.
While her head bobs back and forth, gliding along his shaft, her tongue grinds at the underside of his prick. The hand at rest on his testicles give tender, sweet little squeezes. The squeezes coming in unison with his head hilting at the entrance to her throat.
“Fuck…” That seems to be the only word Damon knows how to say right now. Sweat forms on his body, his free hand pushing his hair off of his forehead while he stands there getting his cock sucked. How badly he wants to spew out compliments, or even try to find something to tell her to do better, but Rinata is nailing this. He’s truly at bliss with everything.
Every movement sends pleasure-filled shockwaves through his body. His toes curl inside of his socks on the floor. The sounds of her saliva sloshing around his cock makes his ears ring and his breathing shake.
Talent. Rinata has talent. But, like any man in his position, Damon needs more. Wants more.
“Move your hand.”
Rinata knows which hand he means, and she quickly unwraps it from the base of his prick. Damon returns this motion by pushing her head down more. Finally, the crown of his thick cock breaks into the confines of her throat. He can feel her relaxing her throat muscles, her tongue holding steady as he slips in.
Keeping his hand on her head, Damon pushes his hips forward before drawing them backwards. Pulling his cock back out of her throat only to push right back in eagerly. He works up a rather steady rhythm, his balls bouncing off of her chin as she gags. Saliva drips from the corners of her mouth, her hand unable to remain on his balls.
Instead she just grabs his hips. Not trying to stop him, but instead holding onto him. She wants to feel him, feel his movements as he fucks her throat for the very first time. Those blue eyes begin to water, the gagging becoming more frequent as he pushes on her head more.
“That’s it… that’s it… pesky gag reflex…we’ll work on that, yeah?” Damon nods to himself, knowing his slave-wife can’t exactly respond to him. He’s mostly talking to himself anyway. Just answering his own inquiry in his head as he looks down to watch her nose get pressed against his pelvis every time he thrusts into her throat.
In and out. In and out. Over and over again, Damon sinks his cock into that untrained throat with great need. However, as much as he finds himself enjoying the depth, the stretching of Rinata’s throat, he knows very well if he keeps it up like this he’s going to cum down that pretty gullet.
And Damon doesn’t want to do that.
Not yet at least.
Rinata gets her reprieve, Damon’s hands bundling her hair again as he eases his hips back and pulls on her locks. Rinata follows his hands, easing him out of her throat, and then her mouth, slowly. Those watery blue eyes stare up at him, sucking in each breath much like he is, with purpose, trying to make sure her lungs still know how to function. They do. Some throat fucking isn’t enough to wear them out. Rinata is a very strong woman it seems.
“You’re good at that…” Damon says with a nod. Phrasing it as good shock, not acting as if he doubted her abilities. But maybe he did. He didn’t exactly know what he was getting aside from a gorgeous woman legally bound to being with him, after all.
Perhaps part of him expected there to be no sex. But wasn’t that scenario grounds for a refund? A replacement? Sex was something advertised as a requirement for girls to join this program. They aren’t allowed to be too frigid. Consent, yes, it’s there and it exists but…
He didn’t buy Rinata to just walk around in jeans and a choker, after all.
“Thanks… I think.”
“It’s a compliment, don’t worry,” Damon assures her. Stepping to the side, he walks to the bed now, moving onto it, laying himself down in the center. His cock stays rock hard, sticking up in the air and glistening in the low blue lights of the corner side lamp. “Let’s get you on top, yeah?”
Rinata smiles as she moves to stand, her legs a tad bit wobbly from sitting on them. Her fingers slowly unbutton her jeans, moving the zipper down. Her fingers lightly dance at the waist, slipping inside the dark denim to ease the fabric down over her ass. Then down her legs. Until Rinata steps out of them. Her figure is rather hour-glass-esque. Those hips a good width, her thighs an almost perfect thickness, and her ass the perfect amount of bubble.
Damon can feel his cock twitch in the air as he watched her. From the way she speaks to the way she looks in his collar and nothing more, Rinata is a breathtaking being. He isn’t completely convinced she’s entirely human at this point. She’s just too flawless.
Of course it could just be how pent up he is, the lack of intimacy in his life blinding him. Surely she has some sort of flaw he can find later. Not that he wants to, not that he wants to harp on any imperfections Rinata may have.
In fact, Damon’s content to fly in the blue dream that she’s absolutely flawless. Nothing wrong with that. This woman currently crawling onto the bed, his wife, his slave, can absolutely keep him blinded by the light for as long as she wants to.
Not that she gets to know the effect she has on her owner, her husband. No need to give her too much power in their partnership so soon.
Rinata likes the bed. It’s firm in all the right ways. It even takes some of the pain out of her knees, pain only caused by being on them for Damon for so long. Not that she really minded it of course. Sucking his cock, she could tell, was going to become one of her favorite ways to greet him after a long day of work. As well as shirtless in that choker with a new pair of jeans on.
She’s learning. She’s adapting. She’s seeing everything she has to do in order to make sure this relationship is beneficial to her. It might not undo her past, but it can relieve the pain to an extent.
Damon’s just about to open his mouth to encourage her to take him for a ride, but he’s once more left in awe as Rinata’s already started crawling over his legs. He watches, his blue eyes staring at her almost in disbelief. How can she be so perfect? Maybe he’ll feel differently after he busts a load in her, but he honestly doubts it.
Rinata hovers her, significantly wet, cunt over his cock. Just the very tip of his head tickles at the edge of her hairless honeypot now. Her delicate, dainty hands go to rest on his chest as she steadies herself. Those feet staying planted firmly in the bed, Damon has no doubt Rinata knows exactly what she’s doing.
Damon raises his hands, planting them softly on her hips before giving them an encouraging squeeze. Not a word gets exchanged as the couple stare into each other’s eyes. Rinata swallows, her knees bending as she eases herself down.
His cock parts her hairless lips. Slowly but surely, the head of his thick member slips inside of her, causing the woman to whimper a little bit. “Fuck…” It’s Rinata who says it this time. There’s a shiver that rolls down her spine as she feels his cock entering her.
The walls that wrap around his cock are tight, clenching muscles that pull his cock deeper into her wetness as she moves herself down. Damon can’t help but hold his breath as he watches his cock once more disappearing into one of Rinata’s gorgeous holes.
Those blue eyes are transfixed on his cock as Rinata moans above him, lowering herself down more, more, and even more. Before he can process it’s happening, he sees his cock disappear inside of her almost completely. Feels his balls pressed right against her ass.
That’s when he tightens his grip on her hips, and bucks his own upward. Rinata lets out a pleasure-filled gasp, tossing her head back as she feels a deep, satisfactory grin forming on her cheeks.
“Fuck, baby!”
“You like that shit, huh?” Damon asks as he does it again. When Damon pulls his hips back, Rinata pulls hers up, sinking herself back down on his cock while he pistons it forward. “Ah, fuck!”
Damon knows he isn’t going to last much longer. The expert-level blowjob Rinata had subjected him to had him trying not to blow in that sweet pussy already. But he held out, bouncing his hips again, spearing his cock into her as she got into a good rhythm of going up and down.
The bed creaked underneath of them. Rinata’s breasts thrashed on her chest as the couple made love. It was closer to fucking than traditional love making, but it was passionate. The heated kissing earlier, the way his hands touched her, both reminding Rinata of her place and letting her know she was safe… it was contributing to her own undoing.
The sounds of sex filled the room. Damon’s groans and grunts, his balls hitting her ass, Rinata’s moans and squeals of sheer joy, her wet pussy squelching on his prick. All of it was echoing in the poor girl’s ears as she started to come undone around him.
Those walls somehow got even tighter around his prick, as if trying to milk him for everything he had to give. Clenching, spasming, getting even wetter as she never ceased in slamming herself down against the bouncing of his hips underneath her. Damon was so fucking happy she didn’t stop when she came. There was something so unspoken, yet important, to him about a woman that rode out her high. In this case, quite literally.
“A-Ah… shit…” Damon curses out into the air again, feeling her slowing down a bit. But he picked up the pace, when she couldn’t go as fast, he made sure to double his efforts. He could feel it, he was agonizingly close, teetering on the edge for far too long before he finally let Rinata’s velveteen walls send him toppling over the mountain.
Damon’s hot cum shot out of his cock as it spasmed and throbbed inside of her pulsating walls. Each groan was more like a moan as they left his throat, something he couldn’t exactly control. Her pussy was just as magical as she was.
His large hands held onto her hips, holding her down on his cock. Making sure she didn’t move off of him until his cock had stopped twitching, until every last drop of his cum was deep inside of her. Finally, when the throbbing of his cock and lurching of his balls subsided, his hands released her.
Rinata crawled off of him with a satisfied purr.
“Still gotta work on your gag reflex, though. That’s gotta go… but other than that?” Damon reaches over, his fingers getting lost in her messy brown hair as she lays down next to him on her side. “I’d say you were, at the very least, a worthwhile purchase.”
“So you’re saying you’d purchase me again?”
“I hope you came with a warranty.”
The world is an almost abysmal dystopia of neon lights and salesmen now. The glow of the sun is barely missed when nightfall comes around, the world being bathed not only in reflective moon rays but in the new moon created through neon tubes. A world covered in cables was never wired to last. But the world is not yet over, things are not dead.
On the contrary, the landscape is a bustling metropolis. For some it’s a nightmare, and for others it’s the dream. If you can look past people begging for money on the streets and others trying to sell you a magical capsule to cure your common cold, or a new implant for your arm of course.
Matchmaking Lovers, Inc. is a large company. Anyone can walk into a business and see their advertisements on vending machine screens. The company takes girls off the streets, cleans them up, and gives them a shot to be somebody in this ever changing society.
Or, at the very least, married to a somebody.
This tends to be the case more often than not. Rinata Soumova had expected this, she didn’t think she’d end up as more than a trophy wife. A gorgeous piece of decor for a man to show off at parties. A way for him to look like a family man to potential clients in whatever lucrative business he was a part of. But she’s been shocked.
Damon Moore is not that type of man. He’s devilishly handsome, of course he is. Dirty blonde hair cut neatly, deep blue eyes, and an athletic build. But he’s also smart. He doesn’t just see this as an arranged marriage that he paid for, no, not at all. Damon sees this as a partnership of sorts. While this woman may be ‘beneath’ him, she’s beneath him in the way a junior-level employee is to a senior-level employee.
The house he lives in is more humble than one would expect from a man like him. While most people of his level in life live in rather expensive mansions, siphoning up the city’s limited resources, Damon’s home is small compared to the rest of his comrades. Only six bedrooms, four bathrooms, and the kitchen is just a tad on the small side.
Ignoring the pool in the backyard, it’s an average house you’d see one of his own employees owning.
Rinata thought it was a bit strange when she first arrived. It wasn’t what she expected, yet not in a disappointing way. Imagining a mansion so large they’d have to send a search party for her was not fun. It was part of what she anticipated, but upon arrival, relief washed over her at the home the man who purchased her as his bride was possibly level-headed.
Although she’s been at the home, her new home, the home she shall share with her husband for three days. Three days without meeting him. It’s unfortunate her ‘delivery’ date was scheduled during a trip he had to take for work.
In so many ways, she’s grateful for this, though. It’s given her time to adapt to the environment. To get comfortable with the laundry list of expectations and understand what Damon expects of her. Things he likes, things he’ll expect of her sexually. Rinata believes her husband might be a rather easy man to please.
Things he listed as vital are already things Rinata enjoys. The black leather collar with a heart shaped hook has only left her neck three times since her arrival… and that was to shower. Rinata has found this color looks good on her, an arousing clash to her lightly olived skin.
The second closet in the master bedroom was filled with clothes, too. Mostly… jeans. It was how Rinata learned Damon has a thing for denim, and she embraced it. Honestly, she isn’t sure she ever owned an actual pair of jeans in her entire life up until now. But she likes them. She likes the way the fabric holds onto her skin, perking that bubble butt up significantly more and making her hips and thighs look more like a buffet than ever.
Rain gives a pitter patter effect on the roof. It’s a cold, muggy day. Dreary, making the neon a faded and blurry mess as it shines through the watery fog. Inside the house, it’s warm. The fireplace crackles with the sound of dry wood being roasted. Rinata even threw in a few pine cones. It’s a simple pleasure, watching them slowly turn orange. Into fiery skeletons before the ashen petals start to crumble away and fall to the bottom.
How fitting is it that the sun disappears when Damon is due home? Silently as she sits on the sofa with a glass of wine in her hand, Rinata hopes and prays this isn’t an omen for the relationship ahead. But how could it be? While he may not seem excited based on the few notes he’d left her, the truth is Damon Moore is in nothing but bliss at what he knows he gets to come home to.
A gorgeous woman.
Devoted to him, and only him.
He’s seen her pictures. Of course he has. Would be really stupid to buy a wife without seeing what she looks like, right? Matchmaking Lovers Inc. pairs men with brides based on personality, lifestyle wishes, and aesthetic pleasure. If a couple will look good together, it matters to the company. It reflects back on them as a business. And in this world of the neon moon, image is damn near anything to keep the money flowing.
The front door alarm makes a few beeps, the sound of numbers being hit on a keypad signals his arrival. Damon’s returned home at long last. And though he carries himself with an air of indifference, his heart is pounding at what he knows is waiting for him inside.
Rinata stands up from the couch, killing down the rest of the Merlot in her glass. Her bare feet patter on the floors as she scrambles into the kitchen to place the glass in the sink. Once the dish is where it belongs, then she trots into the hallway. A deep breath gets sucked into her lungs.
Making it to the hallway before Damon gets the door open, he’s met with such a gorgeous sight.
Rinata in her color. A pair of dark blue denim jeans clinging to her hips, tightly roaming over her thighs and down those dream-worthy legs. And her torso completely bare, showing off her somewhat small by societal standards, yet absolutely gorgeous breasts.
Most importantly is the smile on her face as she stands there with her hands clasped behind her back. Damon had not been expecting the woman to be happy to see him. He isn’t sure why he made such an assumption, though. Rinata already looks like she’s on cloud nine and he hasn’t even closed the door yet.
When the door finally closes, James sets his luggage down and starts slipping his feet out of his shoes. No need to carry anything, one of the maids will handle it… do the maids come today? Traveling disorients him pretty easily, he could think it’s Friday but it’s Tuesday and he’s missed something important.
But nothing’s more important than Rinata right now. Their eyes stay locked as he kicks his shoes to the side. The young woman can feel her heart beating in her chest, pounding against her rib cage as he takes slow steps towards her.
“Even more breathtaking than your photos,” Damon insists as a smile crosses over his lips.
Rinata can’t help but blush. “Thank you… not a slouch yourself. Not what I expected.”
Damon is still walking towards her, but his smile deepens. “I’d hate to know what you expected, then. It might offend me, huh?”
Smiling, Rinata gives a nod. “More than likely, actually.”
“Lucky for us both, I expected you to be gorgeous. And you are.”
Finally, Damon’s close enough to touch her, looking down into her eyes, blue meeting blue. His right hand raises up slowly, brushing some of her brown hair to the side. Not only is he finding she’s fucking gorgeous, but she smells like pure heaven as well. A sweet vanilla-mint scent of perfume, with the musky scent of her body wash, and the faintest hint of lavender from her hair.
All scents he had picked out himself, of course. He made sure the bathroom was stocked with whatever she could need, but made sure to tailor it to what translated the best to his own tastes. Just… more feminine, of course. No need for him to smell half as good as she did, either.
But that being said, Damon did smell good. A musky, floral cologne wafted off of his body and into Rinata’s senses, invigorating her as they stood there in the hallway coming off the foyer.
He leans down, pressing a kiss to her lips. Rinata, almost hungrily, returns the kiss, her hands going to gently rest on his chest.
Before she joined the matchmaking company, as they liked to present themselves in lieu of admitting it’s slavery with benefits for the girls involved, Rinata was not a very happy woman. Her life was rough, it’s rough being the child of immigrants anyway.
But her home life was terrible. Plagued with alcoholism, her parents were either neglectful on a good day, or down right evil and abusive on a bad day. Often times, the girl was forced to fend for herself. Eating whatever and whenever she could, which amounted to scraps and not very often. Hemming her own clothes and doing repairs to keep the household running as smoothly as possible.
Rinata Soumova grew up before she was ready, as do most girls in this business.
And she saw this as her chance to finally be safe. If she plays her cards right, if she keeps her owner-husband happy? She just might make it out alive on the other side. It also helps, of course, that Damon appears kind. That he’s handsome and seems to truly care about her already. At least enough to sweet talk her and give her compliments. When, oh so very clearly, he doesn’t have to. Not when he already paid for her. He owns her. There’s no need for the frills and the attempts at wooing her. Rinata is already fully swooned and in love by the legal definitions of such.
Yet he’s still kissing her sweetly. Their lips meet and it feels like electricity is crackling in their veins. Damon lets out a low sigh, as if the tension of his business trip is melting away just from one simple kiss. Perhaps he’s a more simple man than either of them thought.
The kissing gradually heats up. Rinata welcomes Damon’s tongue into her mouth and suckles on it a little bit while her hands continue to roam his chest. Though she finds his clothes are getting in the way. Clothes are such tedious things, aren’t they? First, her hands slip to his tie.
The standard tie knot is easy enough to undo, her lightly manicured fingers work the knot out and sling the item to the floor. At this moment it becomes clear that Rinata, the slave-wife he paid for, is more hungry for their first time as husband and wife than Damon is.
He groans as he starts to force Rinata to walk backwards, reversing the position of their tongues until hers is in his mouth. Damon suckles on her tongue in turn, lips still moving together as his hands rest on those hips. Those fingers on denim, and on milky, soft flesh.
He continues to walk her backwards during the heated kissing. Content to keep her in those jeans for as long as possible, adoring the way they hug her form just right.
Rinata wants Damon out of those clothes as fast as possible. Her slender fingers work the buttons of his shirt open, moving downward quickly as her feet start to walk backwards up the stars. How badly she craves him, the urge to please the man saving her from a life of squalor is intense. Inside of those jeans, Rinata’s panties are getting quite wet. Soaking the pink fabric as the duo take turns sucking each other’s tongues.
Damon is careful with Rinata now, walking her backwards up the stairs, guiding her as much as he can without being able to see where either of them are really going. Though, Damon is more than aware of his destination with her.
The bedroom. Their bedroom.
In the middle of the stair-walk, Rinata finally gets his shirt unbuttoned and helps his shoulders shrug out of the fabric. It hits the floor, a trail of his work attire leaving making a line towards the bedroom.
Her hands once again go to roam at his chest, it’s bare now and she shivers a moan into the kiss at the feeling of muscles. He’s rather toned, sculpted like a true God among men. It does nothing but make the wetness in her panties more significant.
Rinata is fully aware she hit every possible jackpot when Damon chose her.
Finally at the top of the stairs, Rinata works off his belt, tossing it away as she quickly unbuttons his pants. His new slave-wife is hungry for him, starved for more. Desperately needing to taste what she has been missing in her life. It’s hard to know exactly what you’ve been missing until it’s right in front of you. Until that special something has a collar around your neck and his tongue in your mouth.
Damon hooks his thumbs in his slacks, pulling away from the kiss for the first time since the hallway so he can pull the garment down and step out of it in tandem with his boxers. The faint blue glow of the hallway light, how it catches Rinata’s skin. For a brief moment, Damon thinks she looks purely angelic.
Maybe she is. He knows very little of her background. Rinata could have fallen from heaven and landed in his life for all he knows. He likes that thought. His own little angel to turn into a devil, a demon of pleasure, his personal succubus.
To Damon, she’s the most gorgeous thing in the world. Now, and forever.
Rinata grabs his wrist, all but running with him the rest of the way to the bedroom. A similar light radiates, and Damon will find not only is the bed made but the room is as spotless as he left it. Not a housekeeper by any standards, but Rinata found it important to keep his space clean. A good way to assure he would want to keep her around.
Aside from her sexiness in those jeans.
Before Damon can compliment, or even process the state Rinata has kept their bedroom in, the young woman of Russian heritage is sinking down onto her knees in front of him. This makes his jaw drop for a moment, before he can process what it means. He’s taken aback at the concept of a woman on her knees for him before he even has to ask. There was no suggestion to it.
She simply moved almost based on his thoughts and his thoughts alone.
Once on her knees, sinking those knees hidden behind dark denim into the carpeted floor, her hands wrap around his cock. For a second, she simply stares at it, marveling at the glorious piece of meat she’s found herself married to.
“Don’t be afraid to teach me how you like having your cock sucked, Sir,” Rinata speaks, her voice as melodic and honey coated as it had been in the hallway.
Damon gives a nod, his hands moving to bunch the brown hair up and out of that gorgeous face. She has a lot of hair, soft in his hands, but he manages to keep it out of her way using one hand placed on the back of her head.
“Lick me first,” Damon instructs her with a soft nod.
Rinata doesn’t even have to think about it. That pink muscle parts her lips and immediately goes to the head of his cock. She laps at it softly, slowly letting her tongue circle around the sensitive bundle of nerves. Damon groans, his eyes closing as his head falls back, content noises leaving his throat.
Rinata continues licking his cock, wrapping her tongue around his head before she removes a hand, letting it travel further downward to cup his balls gently, sweetly, with a delicate squeeze. Pain was not the goal, after all… unless he requested it.
“Fuck…” Damon cursed as he felt his breath hitch in his throat.
Her tongue continued to travel along his cock. Down his base, wrapping around it as much as she could, before pulling back up to circle his head. Coating his fuck stick with her saliva happily. His taste was salty, musky, clean, and ultimately delicious. Sucking cock is one of life’s few pleasures, after all. Rinata is enjoying every second of it.
“Suck me, baby,” Damon instructs next. Not that her tongue isn’t absolutely amazing. But he wants to explore more of her, he needs to feel those lips on his cock.
Rinata nods. “Yes, Sir.”
Those pink lips part happily, a soft moan escaping as they wrap around the head of his cock. Once more that tongue because lashing at the tip, causing another deep groan to fall from Damon’s mouth. Rinata’s good at this, and he’s enjoying every single movement.
The fun does not stop with his head in her mouth, no, Rinata moves downward, pushing more of his cock inside. Gently, Damon pushes on the back of her head, sinking more and more of his thick length into the depths. Once he feels his head prodding the entrance to Rinata’s throat, he stops pushing.
There’s another moan from his slave-wife as she starts to bob her head. Slowly dragging her lips back up his cock until only the head remains, and back down until her lips touch her hand. Those olive cheeks sink in a bit, lips going tighter as she starts to create more suction.
Damon’s in bliss, pulling lightly at her head, guiding her movements a good bit, but mostly letting Rinata show off her skills. He’s not gonna complain about a damn thing, not when she’s so damn good at this.
While her head bobs back and forth, gliding along his shaft, her tongue grinds at the underside of his prick. The hand at rest on his testicles give tender, sweet little squeezes. The squeezes coming in unison with his head hilting at the entrance to her throat.
“Fuck…” That seems to be the only word Damon knows how to say right now. Sweat forms on his body, his free hand pushing his hair off of his forehead while he stands there getting his cock sucked. How badly he wants to spew out compliments, or even try to find something to tell her to do better, but Rinata is nailing this. He’s truly at bliss with everything.
Every movement sends pleasure-filled shockwaves through his body. His toes curl inside of his socks on the floor. The sounds of her saliva sloshing around his cock makes his ears ring and his breathing shake.
Talent. Rinata has talent. But, like any man in his position, Damon needs more. Wants more.
“Move your hand.”
Rinata knows which hand he means, and she quickly unwraps it from the base of his prick. Damon returns this motion by pushing her head down more. Finally, the crown of his thick cock breaks into the confines of her throat. He can feel her relaxing her throat muscles, her tongue holding steady as he slips in.
Keeping his hand on her head, Damon pushes his hips forward before drawing them backwards. Pulling his cock back out of her throat only to push right back in eagerly. He works up a rather steady rhythm, his balls bouncing off of her chin as she gags. Saliva drips from the corners of her mouth, her hand unable to remain on his balls.
Instead she just grabs his hips. Not trying to stop him, but instead holding onto him. She wants to feel him, feel his movements as he fucks her throat for the very first time. Those blue eyes begin to water, the gagging becoming more frequent as he pushes on her head more.
“That’s it… that’s it… pesky gag reflex…we’ll work on that, yeah?” Damon nods to himself, knowing his slave-wife can’t exactly respond to him. He’s mostly talking to himself anyway. Just answering his own inquiry in his head as he looks down to watch her nose get pressed against his pelvis every time he thrusts into her throat.
In and out. In and out. Over and over again, Damon sinks his cock into that untrained throat with great need. However, as much as he finds himself enjoying the depth, the stretching of Rinata’s throat, he knows very well if he keeps it up like this he’s going to cum down that pretty gullet.
And Damon doesn’t want to do that.
Not yet at least.
Rinata gets her reprieve, Damon’s hands bundling her hair again as he eases his hips back and pulls on her locks. Rinata follows his hands, easing him out of her throat, and then her mouth, slowly. Those watery blue eyes stare up at him, sucking in each breath much like he is, with purpose, trying to make sure her lungs still know how to function. They do. Some throat fucking isn’t enough to wear them out. Rinata is a very strong woman it seems.
“You’re good at that…” Damon says with a nod. Phrasing it as good shock, not acting as if he doubted her abilities. But maybe he did. He didn’t exactly know what he was getting aside from a gorgeous woman legally bound to being with him, after all.
Perhaps part of him expected there to be no sex. But wasn’t that scenario grounds for a refund? A replacement? Sex was something advertised as a requirement for girls to join this program. They aren’t allowed to be too frigid. Consent, yes, it’s there and it exists but…
He didn’t buy Rinata to just walk around in jeans and a choker, after all.
“Thanks… I think.”
“It’s a compliment, don’t worry,” Damon assures her. Stepping to the side, he walks to the bed now, moving onto it, laying himself down in the center. His cock stays rock hard, sticking up in the air and glistening in the low blue lights of the corner side lamp. “Let’s get you on top, yeah?”
Rinata smiles as she moves to stand, her legs a tad bit wobbly from sitting on them. Her fingers slowly unbutton her jeans, moving the zipper down. Her fingers lightly dance at the waist, slipping inside the dark denim to ease the fabric down over her ass. Then down her legs. Until Rinata steps out of them. Her figure is rather hour-glass-esque. Those hips a good width, her thighs an almost perfect thickness, and her ass the perfect amount of bubble.
Damon can feel his cock twitch in the air as he watched her. From the way she speaks to the way she looks in his collar and nothing more, Rinata is a breathtaking being. He isn’t completely convinced she’s entirely human at this point. She’s just too flawless.
Of course it could just be how pent up he is, the lack of intimacy in his life blinding him. Surely she has some sort of flaw he can find later. Not that he wants to, not that he wants to harp on any imperfections Rinata may have.
In fact, Damon’s content to fly in the blue dream that she’s absolutely flawless. Nothing wrong with that. This woman currently crawling onto the bed, his wife, his slave, can absolutely keep him blinded by the light for as long as she wants to.
Not that she gets to know the effect she has on her owner, her husband. No need to give her too much power in their partnership so soon.
Rinata likes the bed. It’s firm in all the right ways. It even takes some of the pain out of her knees, pain only caused by being on them for Damon for so long. Not that she really minded it of course. Sucking his cock, she could tell, was going to become one of her favorite ways to greet him after a long day of work. As well as shirtless in that choker with a new pair of jeans on.
She’s learning. She’s adapting. She’s seeing everything she has to do in order to make sure this relationship is beneficial to her. It might not undo her past, but it can relieve the pain to an extent.
Damon’s just about to open his mouth to encourage her to take him for a ride, but he’s once more left in awe as Rinata’s already started crawling over his legs. He watches, his blue eyes staring at her almost in disbelief. How can she be so perfect? Maybe he’ll feel differently after he busts a load in her, but he honestly doubts it.
Rinata hovers her, significantly wet, cunt over his cock. Just the very tip of his head tickles at the edge of her hairless honeypot now. Her delicate, dainty hands go to rest on his chest as she steadies herself. Those feet staying planted firmly in the bed, Damon has no doubt Rinata knows exactly what she’s doing.
Damon raises his hands, planting them softly on her hips before giving them an encouraging squeeze. Not a word gets exchanged as the couple stare into each other’s eyes. Rinata swallows, her knees bending as she eases herself down.
His cock parts her hairless lips. Slowly but surely, the head of his thick member slips inside of her, causing the woman to whimper a little bit. “Fuck…” It’s Rinata who says it this time. There’s a shiver that rolls down her spine as she feels his cock entering her.
The walls that wrap around his cock are tight, clenching muscles that pull his cock deeper into her wetness as she moves herself down. Damon can’t help but hold his breath as he watches his cock once more disappearing into one of Rinata’s gorgeous holes.
Those blue eyes are transfixed on his cock as Rinata moans above him, lowering herself down more, more, and even more. Before he can process it’s happening, he sees his cock disappear inside of her almost completely. Feels his balls pressed right against her ass.
That’s when he tightens his grip on her hips, and bucks his own upward. Rinata lets out a pleasure-filled gasp, tossing her head back as she feels a deep, satisfactory grin forming on her cheeks.
“Fuck, baby!”
“You like that shit, huh?” Damon asks as he does it again. When Damon pulls his hips back, Rinata pulls hers up, sinking herself back down on his cock while he pistons it forward. “Ah, fuck!”
Damon knows he isn’t going to last much longer. The expert-level blowjob Rinata had subjected him to had him trying not to blow in that sweet pussy already. But he held out, bouncing his hips again, spearing his cock into her as she got into a good rhythm of going up and down.
The bed creaked underneath of them. Rinata’s breasts thrashed on her chest as the couple made love. It was closer to fucking than traditional love making, but it was passionate. The heated kissing earlier, the way his hands touched her, both reminding Rinata of her place and letting her know she was safe… it was contributing to her own undoing.
The sounds of sex filled the room. Damon’s groans and grunts, his balls hitting her ass, Rinata’s moans and squeals of sheer joy, her wet pussy squelching on his prick. All of it was echoing in the poor girl’s ears as she started to come undone around him.
Those walls somehow got even tighter around his prick, as if trying to milk him for everything he had to give. Clenching, spasming, getting even wetter as she never ceased in slamming herself down against the bouncing of his hips underneath her. Damon was so fucking happy she didn’t stop when she came. There was something so unspoken, yet important, to him about a woman that rode out her high. In this case, quite literally.
“A-Ah… shit…” Damon curses out into the air again, feeling her slowing down a bit. But he picked up the pace, when she couldn’t go as fast, he made sure to double his efforts. He could feel it, he was agonizingly close, teetering on the edge for far too long before he finally let Rinata’s velveteen walls send him toppling over the mountain.
Damon’s hot cum shot out of his cock as it spasmed and throbbed inside of her pulsating walls. Each groan was more like a moan as they left his throat, something he couldn’t exactly control. Her pussy was just as magical as she was.
His large hands held onto her hips, holding her down on his cock. Making sure she didn’t move off of him until his cock had stopped twitching, until every last drop of his cum was deep inside of her. Finally, when the throbbing of his cock and lurching of his balls subsided, his hands released her.
Rinata crawled off of him with a satisfied purr.
“Still gotta work on your gag reflex, though. That’s gotta go… but other than that?” Damon reaches over, his fingers getting lost in her messy brown hair as she lays down next to him on her side. “I’d say you were, at the very least, a worthwhile purchase.”
“So you’re saying you’d purchase me again?”
“I hope you came with a warranty.”
1
5.0K
0
0
My sexy roomate, Deborah, seems convinced that she is meant to be my sex slave after getting shot by a bit of static. Maybe a visit to the doctor ought to fix that?
"What the hell are you watching?" You ask your roommate, Deborah, sprawled out on the couch eating cereal. She's wearing nothing but her bra and panties and is absolutely glued to some trash reality show about fat women fighting each other for money.
"I like it." she says without taking her eyes off of the screen.
You stare at her and have to shake your head to bring yourself back to reality. When you first moved into this apartment six months ago, replacing her previous roommate, you thought it was nice sharing a place with a hot girl like Deborah. But now you are just frustrated by the whole ordeal. Sexually frustrated.
To say that Deborah is hot would be an understatement. She has short but stylish brown hair and big green eyes, pale skin, plump lips, large bouncy tits, slim waist, tight ass, and long legs. If only she wasn't such an asshole...
"You know..." You tell her as you push some of her dirty clothes off the couch and sit next to her "If you keep spending your days sitting on your ass watching that kind of crap your brain is going to end up melting out of your ears."
"Hmmm that sounds delicious," she giggles, still not taking her eyes off the TV. "And if you keep watching porn all day your cock will fall off!"
You move your hand to push her, playfully, but as soon as it makes contact with the side of her hip you both get zapped with a bolt of electricity causing you to cry out in pain.
"Ouch!" Deborah yells pulling away from you. "That hurt! What was that?"
You rub your hand where it felt like it got shocked and inspect it. "Some static charge maybe? Sorry about that."
As you look up towards your roommate, you realize she's now staring at you with a confused expression on her face.
"What?" You ask her, unsure what's wrong. "I said sorry, didn't I?"
"What the fuck..." She whispers looking down at your crotch and then back up again at you, "Did you do that on purpose?"
"What? Shock you?"
"Turn me into your sex slave." She tells you with a raised eyebrow.
You smirk, "Very funny, Debby."
She narrows her eyes at you as if trying to determine whether or not to believe you. "No, seriously though, did you?"
"Turn you into a sex slave? What are you talking about?" You say, slightly taken aback by her behavior. She seems totally serious.
"I'm your sex slave, John. I'm serious." She insists. "I wasn't, you zapped me with your hand or something and now... I am."
"Right..." You mumble, obviously not believing her but still wondering what she's up to. "Why don't you suck my dick, then?"
You watch with shock as Deborah gets off the couch, kneels in front of you and starts unbuckling your pants.
"Wait!" You try to protest. "What the fuck are you doing?"
She stops midway through taking off your pants and looks up at you. "Do you want me to suck your dick or not? I told you, I'm your sex slave. Just make up your mind, dude!"
You both stare at each other for a moment as you try to figure out what is going on here. This can't be real, obviously, so what is she up to?
"Alright..." You finally give in, resigning yourself to this strange situation and calling her bluff. "Do it."
She pulls your pants all the way down, along with your boxers and exposes your fully erect cock before moving forward and wrapping her lips around it. You moan, now both extremely aroused and confused. Your bitchy roommate, who has never shown any sign of sexual interest towards you, is now pretending to be your sex slave for no apparent reason and is sucking your cock like its perfectly normal.
You watch as she bobs her head back and forth, working your shaft with her tongue, squeezing your balls between her fingers. You feel an orgasm approaching fast, if she keeps this up much longer you will lose control.
"Wait... stop." You beg her. "I'm about to... I..."
She gets your dick out of her mouth but keeps stroking it with one hand as she asks: "Do you want to cum in my mouth?"
You nod in disbelief. "Yes..."
She smiles at you before lowering, once again, her mouth over your throbbing member.
"Holy shit!" You exclaim, letting go of a powerful burst of hot spunk straight into Deborah's warm throat. She gags slightly, coughs, and chokes, trying to keep your cock down her tight esophagus as long as possible. Finally managing to swallow most of your load, Deborah lets out a satisfied sigh and then begins licking and swallowing up every last drop. When she's finishes cleaning your cock she pulls away from you and simply sits back on the couch, looking satisfied.
You just lay there for awhile, completely shocked by the turn of events. Eventually though, the reality of the situation starts to sink in.
"What was that all about?"
"Jeez, dude." She says, leaning against the armrest of the couch and smiling "Are you really this dense? I told you. I'm your sex slave."
"Is that something you're into? I mean, I don't mind if it turns you on or anything... but what made you decide, all of a sudden, that you wanted to be MY sex slave?"
"I didn't decide anything, John." She tells you with an air of indifference. "You zapped me and I just was. Like... I don't know how but it just happened."
"What does that even mean?" You ask her, now wondering if the electric shock might have really done something to her.
"You really didn't do it on purpose?" She asks raising her eyebrow.
"Of course not..."
She looks at you skeptically. "Well, purposely or not, I'm your sex slave now."
"What does that even mean?" You repeat, exasperated by the whole conversation.
"What does sex slave mean? Seriously?"
You groan in frustration, pulling your pants and boxer up and throwing your hands up in exasperation as well. Deborah laughs in amusement.
"Calm down, John, Jeez!" She says shaking her head at you in mock sympathy. "I don't know what you did, or if you meant to do it, but what I can tell you is that as soon as you zapped me I just... I just knew that I was your sex slave. I will fuck you any way you want, any time you want, wherever you want."
You stare blankly back at your roommate before slowly standing up off of the couch and pacing around the living room for a moment, trying to wrap your head around this new situation.
"Alright, let's say this is real." You finally tell her after thinking about this for awhile "Let's say that by touching you, earlier, I somehow turned you into my sex slave."
"You did." She nods, taking another bite of cereal from the bowl on the table next to her
"How do you feel about it?"
"About what?"
"About being my sex slave!"
"Oh that? I don't really care." She says nonchalantly, finishing her breakfast. "I know I should, don't get me wrong, but somehow I just don't. I'm fine with it."
You frown at her. "I think we should take you to a doctor or something."
"A doctor?" She laughs, shaking her head. "Man, I have better things to do than go see a doctor; Watching TV, sucking your cock, that kind of thing. Besides, last I heard being a sex slave wasn't a medical condition."
"Maybe the electric shock did something to your brain."
"Maybe." She agrees, nodding along. "But whatever happened, happened. I told you, I'm fine with it."
"But..."
"John!" Deborah interrupts you as she stands up off of the couch and walks towards you. "You must be the dumbest man on Earth right now! You somehow just turned me into your willing sex slave, and it doesn't bother me in the slightest! I know I'm hot and I know you've been ogling me for ages. Do you have any idea how many people would kill to be in your shoes right now?"
She had a point there. But still...
"Alright..." You mumble, fighting the urge to just jump her bones, right here, right now. "If you're my slave, then I order you to come with me to the ER."
She shakes her head firmly. "I'm your SEX slave, dude, not your regular all obedient slave. If you want to fuck me, that's fine, but I'm not going to the hospital because you're too much of a dork to figure out that I am totally okay with this."
Not a normal slave, you think as she smirks at you, a SEX slave. "In that case." You say. "I want you to come with me to the ER and to masturbate there."
Deborah frowns at you. "You really are a dork." She tells you before turning around and heading toward her bedroom. "Let me get dressed."
***
"How long has she been acting this way?" Doctor Calvin asks you after examining your roommate Deborah for about ten minutes.
"It's been an hour." You tell her. "We were sitting on the couch when I touched her. She got some kind of static shock and started freaking out, saying that I'd turned her into my sex slave."
"I am his sex slave and I'm perfectly fine!" Deborah yells from behind the privacy screen. "Should I masturbate, now?"
"In a minute, Deb." You tell her, rubbing your temples in frustration.
You exchange glances with the doctor, clearly skeptical as well. The woman, in her thirties by the looks of it, is a very attractive brunette with hair tied in a bun behind her head and small glasses perched on the end of her nose.
"You touched her with your hand, right?" She asks looking you straight in the eyes. "Can I examine it?"
You nod and move your arm so that she can look at the spot where you felt the charge. As soon as she touches your skin she jerks back, her mouth dropping open. Once again, you feel an intense shock course through your body like lightning and you find yourself suddenly standing up and gripping your numbed hand.
"How peculiar..." Doctor Calvin says, looking up at your hand for a few seconds before turning to face you. "It seems whatever happened to your friend just happened to me too."
"What?!" You gasp in surprise.
"I am your sex slave, Mr Taylor." Doctor Calvin informs you calmly.
"Wait!" Deborah exclaims as she jumps out of the booth she was hiding under. "You too?"
You shake your head as if waking from a trance. "Are you kidding me?!" You say shocked. "What the fuck?"
Doctor Calvin laughs and gives you a friendly pat on the shoulder. "If it can be of any comfort." She tells you with a wink. "I don't mind it in the slightest."
"This doesn't make sense!" You insist, pacing around the room as the two women watch you. "This has to be a joke or something! Tell me this is a joke!"
"Jeez, dude! Calm down!" Deborah chimes in, rolling her eyes. "What is your problem? She's hot!"
"That's not the point!" You snap back at her.
"She's hot. I'm hot. You obviously have a hard on right now and we're both more than willing to help you with that." Your roommate adds with a sly smile. "So why do you keep fighting it?"
You stare at her dumbfounded for a moment before looking over at Doctor Calvin. Her expression remains unchanged as well; she seems perfectly fine with this absurd situation.
"Take off your clothes, both of you!" You tell them, giving up. You reassure yourself that at least you tried to resist it. Your hard cock, pushing against your jeans, has given up a while ago already.
"Finally!" Deborah says with an annoyed sigh as she pulls her shirt up over her head. The Doctor wastes no time stripping down to her bra and panties as well, throwing her white coat across the chair behind her desk.
"What the hell are you watching?" You ask your roommate, Deborah, sprawled out on the couch eating cereal. She's wearing nothing but her bra and panties and is absolutely glued to some trash reality show about fat women fighting each other for money.
"I like it." she says without taking her eyes off of the screen.
You stare at her and have to shake your head to bring yourself back to reality. When you first moved into this apartment six months ago, replacing her previous roommate, you thought it was nice sharing a place with a hot girl like Deborah. But now you are just frustrated by the whole ordeal. Sexually frustrated.
To say that Deborah is hot would be an understatement. She has short but stylish brown hair and big green eyes, pale skin, plump lips, large bouncy tits, slim waist, tight ass, and long legs. If only she wasn't such an asshole...
"You know..." You tell her as you push some of her dirty clothes off the couch and sit next to her "If you keep spending your days sitting on your ass watching that kind of crap your brain is going to end up melting out of your ears."
"Hmmm that sounds delicious," she giggles, still not taking her eyes off the TV. "And if you keep watching porn all day your cock will fall off!"
You move your hand to push her, playfully, but as soon as it makes contact with the side of her hip you both get zapped with a bolt of electricity causing you to cry out in pain.
"Ouch!" Deborah yells pulling away from you. "That hurt! What was that?"
You rub your hand where it felt like it got shocked and inspect it. "Some static charge maybe? Sorry about that."
As you look up towards your roommate, you realize she's now staring at you with a confused expression on her face.
"What?" You ask her, unsure what's wrong. "I said sorry, didn't I?"
"What the fuck..." She whispers looking down at your crotch and then back up again at you, "Did you do that on purpose?"
"What? Shock you?"
"Turn me into your sex slave." She tells you with a raised eyebrow.
You smirk, "Very funny, Debby."
She narrows her eyes at you as if trying to determine whether or not to believe you. "No, seriously though, did you?"
"Turn you into a sex slave? What are you talking about?" You say, slightly taken aback by her behavior. She seems totally serious.
"I'm your sex slave, John. I'm serious." She insists. "I wasn't, you zapped me with your hand or something and now... I am."
"Right..." You mumble, obviously not believing her but still wondering what she's up to. "Why don't you suck my dick, then?"
You watch with shock as Deborah gets off the couch, kneels in front of you and starts unbuckling your pants.
"Wait!" You try to protest. "What the fuck are you doing?"
She stops midway through taking off your pants and looks up at you. "Do you want me to suck your dick or not? I told you, I'm your sex slave. Just make up your mind, dude!"
You both stare at each other for a moment as you try to figure out what is going on here. This can't be real, obviously, so what is she up to?
"Alright..." You finally give in, resigning yourself to this strange situation and calling her bluff. "Do it."
She pulls your pants all the way down, along with your boxers and exposes your fully erect cock before moving forward and wrapping her lips around it. You moan, now both extremely aroused and confused. Your bitchy roommate, who has never shown any sign of sexual interest towards you, is now pretending to be your sex slave for no apparent reason and is sucking your cock like its perfectly normal.
You watch as she bobs her head back and forth, working your shaft with her tongue, squeezing your balls between her fingers. You feel an orgasm approaching fast, if she keeps this up much longer you will lose control.
"Wait... stop." You beg her. "I'm about to... I..."
She gets your dick out of her mouth but keeps stroking it with one hand as she asks: "Do you want to cum in my mouth?"
You nod in disbelief. "Yes..."
She smiles at you before lowering, once again, her mouth over your throbbing member.
"Holy shit!" You exclaim, letting go of a powerful burst of hot spunk straight into Deborah's warm throat. She gags slightly, coughs, and chokes, trying to keep your cock down her tight esophagus as long as possible. Finally managing to swallow most of your load, Deborah lets out a satisfied sigh and then begins licking and swallowing up every last drop. When she's finishes cleaning your cock she pulls away from you and simply sits back on the couch, looking satisfied.
You just lay there for awhile, completely shocked by the turn of events. Eventually though, the reality of the situation starts to sink in.
"What was that all about?"
"Jeez, dude." She says, leaning against the armrest of the couch and smiling "Are you really this dense? I told you. I'm your sex slave."
"Is that something you're into? I mean, I don't mind if it turns you on or anything... but what made you decide, all of a sudden, that you wanted to be MY sex slave?"
"I didn't decide anything, John." She tells you with an air of indifference. "You zapped me and I just was. Like... I don't know how but it just happened."
"What does that even mean?" You ask her, now wondering if the electric shock might have really done something to her.
"You really didn't do it on purpose?" She asks raising her eyebrow.
"Of course not..."
She looks at you skeptically. "Well, purposely or not, I'm your sex slave now."
"What does that even mean?" You repeat, exasperated by the whole conversation.
"What does sex slave mean? Seriously?"
You groan in frustration, pulling your pants and boxer up and throwing your hands up in exasperation as well. Deborah laughs in amusement.
"Calm down, John, Jeez!" She says shaking her head at you in mock sympathy. "I don't know what you did, or if you meant to do it, but what I can tell you is that as soon as you zapped me I just... I just knew that I was your sex slave. I will fuck you any way you want, any time you want, wherever you want."
You stare blankly back at your roommate before slowly standing up off of the couch and pacing around the living room for a moment, trying to wrap your head around this new situation.
"Alright, let's say this is real." You finally tell her after thinking about this for awhile "Let's say that by touching you, earlier, I somehow turned you into my sex slave."
"You did." She nods, taking another bite of cereal from the bowl on the table next to her
"How do you feel about it?"
"About what?"
"About being my sex slave!"
"Oh that? I don't really care." She says nonchalantly, finishing her breakfast. "I know I should, don't get me wrong, but somehow I just don't. I'm fine with it."
You frown at her. "I think we should take you to a doctor or something."
"A doctor?" She laughs, shaking her head. "Man, I have better things to do than go see a doctor; Watching TV, sucking your cock, that kind of thing. Besides, last I heard being a sex slave wasn't a medical condition."
"Maybe the electric shock did something to your brain."
"Maybe." She agrees, nodding along. "But whatever happened, happened. I told you, I'm fine with it."
"But..."
"John!" Deborah interrupts you as she stands up off of the couch and walks towards you. "You must be the dumbest man on Earth right now! You somehow just turned me into your willing sex slave, and it doesn't bother me in the slightest! I know I'm hot and I know you've been ogling me for ages. Do you have any idea how many people would kill to be in your shoes right now?"
She had a point there. But still...
"Alright..." You mumble, fighting the urge to just jump her bones, right here, right now. "If you're my slave, then I order you to come with me to the ER."
She shakes her head firmly. "I'm your SEX slave, dude, not your regular all obedient slave. If you want to fuck me, that's fine, but I'm not going to the hospital because you're too much of a dork to figure out that I am totally okay with this."
Not a normal slave, you think as she smirks at you, a SEX slave. "In that case." You say. "I want you to come with me to the ER and to masturbate there."
Deborah frowns at you. "You really are a dork." She tells you before turning around and heading toward her bedroom. "Let me get dressed."
***
"How long has she been acting this way?" Doctor Calvin asks you after examining your roommate Deborah for about ten minutes.
"It's been an hour." You tell her. "We were sitting on the couch when I touched her. She got some kind of static shock and started freaking out, saying that I'd turned her into my sex slave."
"I am his sex slave and I'm perfectly fine!" Deborah yells from behind the privacy screen. "Should I masturbate, now?"
"In a minute, Deb." You tell her, rubbing your temples in frustration.
You exchange glances with the doctor, clearly skeptical as well. The woman, in her thirties by the looks of it, is a very attractive brunette with hair tied in a bun behind her head and small glasses perched on the end of her nose.
"You touched her with your hand, right?" She asks looking you straight in the eyes. "Can I examine it?"
You nod and move your arm so that she can look at the spot where you felt the charge. As soon as she touches your skin she jerks back, her mouth dropping open. Once again, you feel an intense shock course through your body like lightning and you find yourself suddenly standing up and gripping your numbed hand.
"How peculiar..." Doctor Calvin says, looking up at your hand for a few seconds before turning to face you. "It seems whatever happened to your friend just happened to me too."
"What?!" You gasp in surprise.
"I am your sex slave, Mr Taylor." Doctor Calvin informs you calmly.
"Wait!" Deborah exclaims as she jumps out of the booth she was hiding under. "You too?"
You shake your head as if waking from a trance. "Are you kidding me?!" You say shocked. "What the fuck?"
Doctor Calvin laughs and gives you a friendly pat on the shoulder. "If it can be of any comfort." She tells you with a wink. "I don't mind it in the slightest."
"This doesn't make sense!" You insist, pacing around the room as the two women watch you. "This has to be a joke or something! Tell me this is a joke!"
"Jeez, dude! Calm down!" Deborah chimes in, rolling her eyes. "What is your problem? She's hot!"
"That's not the point!" You snap back at her.
"She's hot. I'm hot. You obviously have a hard on right now and we're both more than willing to help you with that." Your roommate adds with a sly smile. "So why do you keep fighting it?"
You stare at her dumbfounded for a moment before looking over at Doctor Calvin. Her expression remains unchanged as well; she seems perfectly fine with this absurd situation.
"Take off your clothes, both of you!" You tell them, giving up. You reassure yourself that at least you tried to resist it. Your hard cock, pushing against your jeans, has given up a while ago already.
"Finally!" Deborah says with an annoyed sigh as she pulls her shirt up over her head. The Doctor wastes no time stripping down to her bra and panties as well, throwing her white coat across the chair behind her desk.
1
1.9K
4
0
Loading...
Help Me, Please in The Hero
by
EzraWritesThings
· 16 May 2024
Trevor never expected taking care of a sex slave would be his job. Nor did he expect to enjoy it so much.
7.6K
0
1
The Static in The Static
by
MonsterInNeed
· 13 Feb 2023
My sexy roomate, Deborah, seems convinced that she is meant to be my sex slave after getting shot by a bit of static. Maybe a visit to the doctor ought to fix that?
1.9K
4
0
Loading...