My Best Friend's Girlfriend - Epilogue

"If you weren't on your phone, you'd notice," says Reyna.

"Excuse you?" snaps the man. He wants to fight. He shouldn't fight Reyna. No one should fight Reyna.

"How about this?" says Reyna. "If you put your phone in the tip jar, right now, the slut will suck your cock when she's done."

I freeze. I haven't sucked cock since... since before Carl... since college? I don't play with cock anymore. I'm a good slut, I'm Reyna's slut, but I don't suck cock anymore. I don't play with cock anymore. Reyna can't. Reyna wouldn't.

I pull away from Claire's clit. She's so close. She tries to pull my head back to her pussy, but I resist. I look up at Reyna, or try to, over and around the counter. "Goddess?" I whisper.

"What, slut?"

"His... cock?"

"Oh, little Sarah. You know you'd love it. In a heartbeat you'd be the best cocksucker in the city with my help. You'd love cock more than you'd love pussy. If I wanted, you could need cum more than you need water."

"But..."

"Are you my slut?" snaps Reyna.

"Y-yes..." I mumble.

"What do sluts do?"

"Obey."

"That's right." Reyna looks back at the phone man. He's in his forties maybe. He's not attractive. None of them are attractive. "Besides," she says with a smile. "He hasn't tipped the slut, yet."

I blush and go back to Claire's clit. I can focus on this. All a slut has to do is what her Goddess orders her to do. She only has to have one thought in her head at a time: the command. The next thing is the only thing. The next thing is to fuck Claire. The only thing is to fuck Claire.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" asks the phone man.

"Do you want your cock sucked?" asks Reyna.

"She's real good," says Claire. "She's eager."

"What in the actual fuck?" says the man.

"Put your phone in the tip jar and get a slave's mouth wrapped around your cock," says Reyna.

"You two are fucked -"

"Look at your phone," orders Reyna. "You love that stupid phone. It's all the brings you pleasure. I doubt you could get an erection without staring at that screen. You won't. I know you won't. You won't ever again. You can't eat unless you're staring at the phone. You can't think unless you're staring at the phone. For every moment you don't look at it, you feel yourself getting dumber. Thoughts fly away. You forget things. But your phone will help you remember. Your phone is a tool to help your mind. It brings you pleasure. Isn't that right?"

"Yes," intones the man. He's under Reyna's power now.

Claire starts to buck and grind against my face. Her hands move from running through my hair, to shoving my face into her pussy. She's close. She wants it. She wants to cum.

"And if your phone dies, if it runs out of battery or reception, you'll do whatever you have to get more juice. You'll pay any price. You'll suck cock. You'll take cock up the ass. You'll sell your body. You don't need your body. You have your mind, and your phone helps with your mind. It's a tool for your mind. When it dies, your mind dies. You become needy and desperate. You become stupid and reckless. You won't need condoms. You won't need protection. You'll need juice. You'll do anything for juice, yes?"

"I'll do anything for juice."

Claire moans but no one pays attention to her. The phone man is in Reyna, and, more importantly, she is in him. I am in Claire, and Claire is becoming awake. She's becoming more. She's been touched by Reyna. Nothing will be the same for her. When she cums, she seals her fate. She will be other. She will be altered. She will be hungry. She will never be the same. Just like me. They're all just like me.

"You're stupid without your phone."

"I'm stupid without my phone."

Claire pulls on my hair, but I don't let my tongue stop flicking her clit. I suck on it, nibble it, roll it over my teeth with my tongue. She bucks her hips and humps my face. She's moaning like a whore. She is a whore. I'm a whore. We're all whores. We're all Reyna's whores, aren't we? We've been sucked in by a promise of freedom and then stay for the bittersweet darkness.

"You'll look at it all the time."

"I'll look at it all the time."

I slide my fingers into Claire's pussy and start to pump. Her moans turn to growls and roars. She's becoming less and less Claire and more and more an animal, more and more free, more and more a slut. Her hips pound into my face, pushing my fingers deeper and deeper inside of her. She's close. She's close. She's the next thing. Fuck her. Fuck her, Sarah. Obey, Sarah.

"Good boy, now please, take a picture of my slut."

Claire clenches. Her legs clench. Her thighs clench. Her pelvis clench. Her hands clench on my hair. She rises to her tiptoes, but my tongue and fingers follow. Fuck her, Sarah. Obey. All you have to do is obey. It doesn't matter if they're watching. You like that they're watching. Everyone thought you'd be better. They thought you'd be stronger. But you're just a slut. You like them seeing you fail. You like them watching and getting hot. Getting wet. Getting hard. You like that they like sluts. You like that you get to be their slut. You like to obey. You like to be watched. You like that their eyes makes it permanent.

There's a white flash.

"Thank you. Here. I'll send it to myself."

You like their eyes. You like to be public. You like to be public. If it's public, it's forever. You don't have to go back. You can't go back. Everyone knows. They know what a slut you are. They know. You know. You knew, but now everyone knows. It's forever now. It will never leave you. You're a slut. You're such a slut. You've always been a slut. You're such a good slut. It's good to be a slut. It's good to be you. You like you. You like you now. You like slut you.

"Now go. No sluts for you."

Claire shudders and cum. I shudder and cum. She holds my head against her pussy, but as she comes of her tiptoes, my head is against her soft tummy. She runs her hands through my hair and laughs.

"Thanks, slut," she says.

"Thank you," I whisper. I lightly kiss her pussy. She gasps. I giggle and slide my fingers out. She gasps more. "I needed that."

I stand up and turn to look at Reyna. She's packing up her things. I move to follow.

"No," says Reyna calmly. "Don't move. Stay there." She hands me my coffee. "Here. This is yours." I take it. "I want you to stay here serving Claire and anyone else who offers, even cocks."

I nod. My knees go weak. Yes. Please. Yes. I want it. I want it badly.

"Earn tips, both of you," says Reyna. "When you've earned enough to pay for a ride back to the manor, little Sarah. You can return. Though I suggest you also earn enough for your next tattoo. I know just where I want to put it."

Reyna walks out of the coffee shop.

I turn to Claire and smile, smoothing out my hair. Without Reyna guiding her, she looks less sure of herself. She's confused and worried about what just happened.

I chuckle to try and break the tension. "Crazy, huh?" I say.

I go to pick up her shorts and panties, but she kicks them away from me. "Don't touch those," she says. Her voice is sharp.

"What's wro-"

"Don't talk," she orders. "Get on your knees. Stay on your knees. Don't look at me. Don't look at the customers. Be a good slut, and earn enough money to get out. Okay?"

"Yes, Miss," I say. I obey and get on my knees.

"Miss," says Claire. I hear her smile. "I like that."

Over the next six hours I help Miss Claire cum fourteen more times. I suck two cocks. Claire wouldn't let me clean the cum off my tits. I let three women write their phone numbers on me. They didn't want to fuck me in the store, but I promised to serve them later if my Goddess permits it. I earned more than enough money to get back to the manor. I lost count of how many pictures were taken of me. When Claire's boss came to the coffee shop, I served her too. She liked to call me names. By the time I left, they called me Claire's Cunt and stopped calling me slut. They didn't understand that I was Reyna's Cunt. But it didn't matter. They could never understand.

I was Reyna's cunt. I was so much more than that. I was her ass and her mouth and her tits and pussy. I was her slut and her slave and her whore. I was her body. I was an extension of her will. I was close now. I was close to true mindlessness. Every picture they took of me brought me closer. Every woman I ate out brought me closer. Every insult I accepted brought me closer. I'll tattoo all their insults on my skin. Then they won't hurt me. Nothing will hurt me but the fear of Reyna's displeasure.

**********************

10 Years Later...

There's a knock on my apartment door. I stop writing, I have time until this manuscript is due, and go to answer it. When I open the door, Charity, a curvy redhead from my publisher's office is standing in front of me. She's wearing a pale green sundress with sunflowers on it. Her makeup is running. She's been crying.

"Charity?" I ask.

"I took your advice," she sniffles.

"How did it go?" I ask.

"Awful."

I open the door wide and step out of her way. "What happened?" I ask as she heads into my apartment.

"I told her what I wanted, and she freaked the fuck out."

"Madeline? You told her about your fantasies?"

"Yes! Who the fuck do you think?" shrieks Charity.

I gesture to one of my arm chairs in the living room. "Here, take a seat. Calm down."

"I'm sorry," says Charity. "I'm really sorry."

"It's okay. I'm going to make you some tea."

"It's not. I shouldn't be yelling at you. You're just trying to help me. You've been great. You've been so great."

"I understand what it's like to be in your position," I say as I put the kettle on.

"With you and Maria, right?"

"Yeah, something like that." I get out the teapot and put in two bags. "Earl Grey fine?" I ask.

"Uh, sure," says Charity. "Whatever is fine." She clasps and unclasps her hands. She's nervous. That's fine. They're always nervous at first.

"There's some tissue there if you want to clean up your makeup."

"Thanks, Sarah. I really appreciate it. Again, I'm sorry for yelling and -"

"Don't worry about it." I smile at her. "It's fine. You're not the first to show up crying and screaming at my door. It's kind of my thing now." I set the teacups out by the pot.

"You're too kind."

"Just trying to show the kindness that's been shown to me." I go back to the living room and sit down across from her. Charity's beautiful, but she doesn't know it. She doesn't know what people would do with her body, what she could do with her body. She doesn't understand all the power that's inside her. She's convinced the world wants to tear her apart and deny her happiness. But the world is bringing things together. The world wants connection.

"Tell me all about it," I say.

Charity takes a deep sigh and starts. "I told her about the fantasies I've been having. The ones I told you about."

"BDSM stuff, right?" I wish I had a cup of tea to sip right now. It'd be perfect to be casually non-interested, not sure of the facts, not practiced and rehearsed.

"Uh... yeah," she says. She smiles and looks down at her hands clasped in her lap. "That stuff."

"It's okay, Charity. I've been doing that kind of stuff for years now. It's perfectly healthy and normal."

"Well, tell that to Madeline," she whines.

"How did she respond?" I ask.

"Not well. She said I was crazy. She called me a freak and told me that it was too kinky and weird and creepy. She went on some rant about how BDSM is patriarchal and stems from the desire of men to oppress and how people made oppression seem sexy so people would willingly oppress themselves and women are subjugating themselves to men willingly or worse begging women to be their new patriarchal oppressors and -" Her words started to topple on top of each other as she went faster and faster, trying to give me the whole story of their conversation, but her emotions caught up with her and she's gasping and crying through most of an incoherent ramble.

"Charity," I coo. "Breathe."

The tea kettle sings. I get up to fix us some tea.

"Sorry," she sighs again. "It's just that... it's just that..."

"It felt like rejecting your fantasies were rejecting you?" I ask.

"Exactly!" she sighs with exasperation. "Exactly that."

"And she doesn't believe your fantasies are an inherent part of your identity. She thinks it can pass or be a phase?"

"Yes. Exactly yes."

"I'm sorry, hun," I say as I pour the hot water into the teapot. "That's a shame."

"You think it won't work with her?"

"Maybe," I say. "It's difficult."

"Why does it have to be so difficult!" she whines.

"It's like you've found a woman, and you want to be with her. But you need more than just a woman. In our case, we need it to be a gay or bisexual woman, right?" I put the teapot and teacups onto the tray along with sugar and milk.

"Sure."

"And now, in my case, and your case apparently, we need it be a woman with similar sexual fantasies."

"I guess, but can't she just -"

"She can't be a domme for you anymore than my sister can be a lesbian for you. It's preference, love. Simple as that. You can't change her preference." I sit back down across from Charity and put the tray with tea on it between us on the coffee table.

"So we have to break up?" she asks. She's heartbroken. She knows it's true, but once I say it, it'll be real.

"Maybe."

"But I just want..." She trails off. I pour the tea. I hover over the sugar, but she shakes her head. I lift the milk, but she shakes her head. I hand her the tea cup.

"To be controlled?" I ask.

"Yes," she sighs. I'm sure she's wet. They're always wet by this point. Sluts like her are always wet the closer you get to their deepest and darkest fantasies.

"By Madeline?" I ask. I pour my tea into my cup. I add four lumps of sugar and a splash of milk. I raise the cup and look at her. I take my calculated sip. It's hot, but I don't show any reaction as it burns my lips.

Charity doesn't say anything. The silence builds between us. She reminds me of a ghost, of June, on her knees in her apartment desperate to be controlled by me, by anyone. They all want to be controlled. They all come to me for it. But I'm smarter now. I won't make the same mistake I made last time. I know who I am and what my role is in all this.

"It doesn't have to be Madeline, does it?" I ask.

Charity shakes her head.

"You're that desperate to be controlled?" I ask.

Charity nods.

"Are you sure?"

Charity nods.

"You want it to be me, don't you?" I ask and take a sip.

She nods.

"You need me, don't you?" I ask.

She nods.

"You need my strength?"

She nods.

"Look at me, Charity." She does. "What Madeline said isn't true."

"But I asked her to do... things to me. What kind of a person does that?"

"It doesn't matter. Listen to me. Madeline's not here. She doesn't matter." I can see the confusion over her face. She can't sort that out. Two ideas are still raging in her mind. She's trapped and afraid, but she's eager and hopeful. I won't make the mistake I made with June. She'll be like the others. This is what Goddess wants for me. She wants me to collect my little chicks like when I first collected June. She wants me to use my strength and my love to give them security and take away their fear.

"You want me in charge?" I say forcefully.

She nods.

"Then listen to me."

She nods.

"You are not a freak."

Again, the confusion is plain on her face. I see her eyebrows furrow and nose scrunch as she tries to sort it out. How can she not be a freak when what she wants is so dark and devious? She doesn't know yet that darkness and debauchery can become normal.

"Trust me. Am I in charge?"

"Yes."

"Do I think you're a freak?"

"No."

"Then are you a freak?"

"No," she says.

"That's right," I coo. I put down my teacup and stand. I sit on the arm of her chair and stroke her hair, like a cat. She seems to like it and relaxes. "You're not a freak, Charity." I can't take away the term from her. It means too much, so I offer her a new one. "You're a good girl."

She emits something that sounds like a purr or moan from her throat.

"That's right," I say. "Good girls can be obedient. Good girls can serve. And you want to serve, don't you?"

"Yes."

"That's why you came here. That's why you're letting me take control. You want to serve, isn't that right?"

"Yes."

"Good girl," I say.

"There's nothing wrong with you," I say.

"It feels like something's wrong with me."

"No no no no, you're a good girl," I whisper.

"But what I want it is -"

"Shhhh." I turn her face to look at me. "Repeat after me: I'm a good girl."

"I'm a good girl."

"Sarah likes my dark fantasies."

"Sarah likes my dark fantasies."

"Sarah thinks I'm a good girl."

"Sarah thinks I'm a good girl."

"I am a good girl."

"I am a good girl."

"Gooood," I say. "Now I want to show you something."

"Okay," says Charity.

I peel off my blouse. I'm not wearing a bra. There, beneath my professional clothing, Charity can see the tattoos. 'Slut,' 'whore,' 'cumslut,' 'cunt eater,' 'pussy eater,' 'Reyna's,' 'cunt,' and more. So many more. She gasps.

"It's okay," I say. "You can touch them."

She reaches out and runs her hands over my tattoos. There are more on my legs. More over my pussy. More on my ass. More than she could think reasonable or natural.

"You... did this?" she asks.

"My Goddess did," I say.

"Goddess?"

I won't make the same mistake again. I won't let June get banished or try to tear her away from the one force that can help her. I won't separate June from the one true source of good or hope or power. I will take this June to Reyna. Reyna will use her the way she needs to be used, the way she wants to be used. She will be like all the others. I'm going to fix it this time. I'm going to fix it with this June.

"That's right," I say. Charity's fingers reach my nipples and hesitate. Everyone hesitates when they get to the piercings, afraid they'll hurt me. But nothing can hurt me anymore. I'm free. I'm finally empty and free.

"I can't wait to introduce you to her."