Can I Trust You?

"I thought you could trust me, really I did," Alice said as Cynthia knelt in front of her, mouth open and eyes glazed. "But when you said you'd do anything...you have no idea how hot that sounded." She brushed the fake cock across Cynthia's lips, and Cynthia couldn't help herself. Years of instinct took over and she pursed her lips around it and began to suck.

"That's right, beautiful," Alice purred as she knotted Cynthia's ponytail tightly in her fingers and guided her head up and down the shaft. "You just let that cock carry you away into dreamland, just the way it always does. The way it always will." Cynthia realized that Alice was brainwashing her further, but then the dildo slid out of her mouth and she caught a glimpse of the long, thick shaft. The sculpted veins along its surface glistened with her saliva, and she lost her train of thought as her eyes crossed trying to watch it slide back in.

"Mmm, that's right, good girl," Alice whispered. This close, Cynthia could smell her arousal, a heady musk that slipped in behind her consciousness and triggered a sense memory all the way down in her pussy of a night long past but apparently not forgotten by the part of her that loved to obey. "You just take all those clothes off for me, now. You don't need them anymore, do you?"

Cynthia murmured something around the shaft in her mouth, but she didn't really remember what she intended to say. It wasn't important, not when she had a cock in front of her. Her hands pulled off the shoulder straps of her dress and slid it off without any conscious thought on her part, and the bra soon followed. She reached briefly for her panties before remembering the one bit of conditioning she'd never quite been able to shake.

"Ooh, yes, just like that." Alice ground her crotch against Cynthia's face, and Cynthia could hear liquid sounds coming from Alice's cunt as the other end of the dildo sank into her. "Get that cock nice and slick for me, pretty girl. Get it all ready for your sweet little pussy." Cynthia heard herself whimpering around the silicone, her body burning with desire and now totally unconstrained by her conscious mind.

Alice pulled Cynthia away from the dildo by her hair, and angled her head up. Cynthia gazed back at her for a moment with vacant, unseeing eyes, her lipstick smeared across her face from the vigor of her blowjob and a tiny trickle of drool at the corner of her mouth. Then her stare slowly lowered back down to the cock. "Come on, babydoll," Alice said. "Let's go to bed."

She walked backwards to the bedroom, and Cynthia crawled the whole way to follow her. It didn't feel like degradation, though. It felt like devotion. She didn't want to walk, not when it felt so fucking sexy to crawl on all fours with her ass sticking up in the air and her pussy juice dripping down her thighs. She wanted Alice to see this. She wanted Alice to see her tits, hanging down and swaying like pendulums, and get so fucking turned on that she would ram Cynthia with that cock all night long. It was all she could think about now, literally.

When they got to the bedroom, Alice directed Cynthia onto the bed and spread her thighs apart. "That is so fucking beautiful," Alice said, leaning down to nuzzle Cynthia's mound. She inhaled deeply through her nostrils, drawing in the scent of Cynthia's arousal. "So fucking beautiful. You understand why I had to do this, right?"

"Yes," Cynthia said tonelessly. She didn't-she didn't understand anything right now except sex and obedience-but now that she'd been told that she did, she knew that she would. The command sank deep into the heavy fog that clouded her thoughts, replacing her old beliefs with new certainties.

"Good girl," Alice said, sliding the dildo deep into Cynthia's slick pussy.

Cynthia gasped with pleasure as the cock plunged into her, deeper and thicker than Brad had ever been. She watched helplessly as it slid in and out, in and out of her, each time sinking deeper into trance as the sight of it triggered her all over again. She heard Alice say something to her in a low, soothing tone, and even though the rhythm of their fucking drove them instantly out of her head, she still found herself playing with her own tits just as she was told.

Because she was a good girl. She instantly and deeply knew this to be true, without ever comprehending where the knowledge came from. She was a deeply obedient good girl, always hot and horny, always ready to be naked and open for her Mistress. Her memories of Brad were eroding now, crumbling into darkness to be replaced by a different cock and a different owner. Mistress was fucking away her resistance, fucking away her will, and Mistress could fuck her longer and harder than any man ever could. So it only made sense that she couldn't possibly fight the power Mistress held over her.

Cynthia heard her whimpers turn to moans and her moans turn to screams as the pleasure built and built inside of her. Her clit throbbed as Mistress angled her strokes to brush up against it, over and over again, grinding deep with each thrust as the pace of their sex turned into the helpless quivers of orgasm after orgasm. Cynthia felt as though she was being wrung out with pleasure, left spent and shaking on the bed like a rag doll from the sheer force of her ecstasy.

And then, as her eyes narrowed to sleepy slits and even the memory of consciousness faded into the heady mix of exhaustion, trance and afterglow, she watched as Mistress slid along the covers to sit next to her on the pillows and program her some more. The last thing she saw before her eyelids gave up the struggle completely was her new owner's cock.

*****

And then Cynthia woke. It was morning-or maybe afternoon, she wasn't even sure which. The sun shone through the windows, disorienting the part of her that still thought it should be night, but she felt as though she'd slept for hours. And next to her, still sleeping, snuggled up to her under the covers like a child with a teddy bear, was Alice.

Cynthia sat up carefully, shaking off the part of her that tried to mentally substitute 'Mistress' for 'Alice'. She watched the other woman carefully for any signs of wakefulness as she slowly, delicately slid out from under the covers, disengaging herself from Alice's embrace with all the care of a technician defusing an atomic bomb.

The whole time, her mind was racing. Her clothes were in the living room. She could grab them, pull them on in the hallway. Get to her car, get to an ATM, drive north until she hit the border. Find a new job in one of the border towns, somewhere Alice couldn't find her, and she had to do it all before Alice woke up and pulled the covers off to show her that goddamn motherfucking-

Cynthia turned to head for the door. And sank to her knees as she saw the strap-on harness hanging from the doorknob, dildo still dangling in its socket.

"I couldn't let you run out," Cynthia heard from behind her. She wondered loosely whether Mistress had simply pretended to sleep, or whether Cynthia had just stared at the silicone cock in an erotic reverie until Mistress finally woke. "Not until I figured out how to handle all this."

She heard Mistress slip out of bed and pad over to her on bare feet, but she couldn't look away from the dildo to see what was happening. It was only when Mistress sat down in front of her, careful not to block the view of the harness, that Cynthia was able to see her out of the corner of her glazed and vacant eyes.

"Because I am sorry, Cynthia," Mistress said, reaching out a hand to stroke Cynthia's soft flesh. "But I'm even more sorry that I'm not sorry enough to let you go. Not when you're so pretty like this. Not when you're so damn beautiful."

Cynthia sighed softly, accepting the praise without question. It came from Mistress, after all. "So you're going to stay here for a while. Just until I get your head where I want it to be," Mistress said. She leaned in and kissed the swell of Cynthia's breast, sending shivers down Cynthia's spine. "And maybe a little while after that. How does that sound?"

"Perfect, Mistress," Cynthia whispered. She couldn't think of any other response.

"That's my girl," Mistress said. "You'll like it by the time we're done, babydoll, I promise."

Cynthia knew the brainwashing had sunk in once and for all when she heard herself respond. "I trust you, Mistress," she said, and she couldn't help knowing it to be true.

THE END