Sick Eyes

And while I couldn't move, and Miss Veronica's strong hand worked my enormous erection and slathered it with my own pre-cum, she told me all of the other ways in which I would now be useful.

I quit my job. I sold my life. I severed all my contacts. I moved into Miss Veronica's palatial home. Lena lives there, too. During the day, while Lena assists Miss Veronica at the office, I take care of Miss Veronica's home. I clean. I cook. I see to all the needs of her beloved dogs—her black labs, her rottweilers. And I take pills, lots of pills, just like Lena does to keep her body slim and hairless, to make her cock so big. My body is transforming into something more and more useful.

In the evenings, after all our work is done, Lena and I are useful to Miss Veronica. There are so many ways. Sometimes we pleasure each other in front of her. Sometimes we play in front of webcams, taking the requests of strangers. Sometimes we serve at the parties she holds for her wealthy, powerful guests. And, of course, we are useful to her by worshipping her cock and savoring her cum and pleasuring her in every way she desires.

She takes such good care of us, Miss Veronica. She brings in doctors who make sure we're healthy. We pay the doctors by pleasing them. She gives us therapy once a week, with that special tea and the lovely music and the intoxicating scent. She calls us her pets, and that makes us happy. Sometimes she even lets us cum, when our pain gets too much. But not often. It's useful to keep us sick eyed with arousal.

Miss Veronica says Lena and I will make other patients useful. Not all of them—just those few special ones with the defining quality of usefulness. Most of her other patients will keep on living only for themselves, trapped by their useless possessions and their useless jobs and their useless egos. But not me, and not Lena, and not the others to come.

I am no longer trapped. I no longer want to die. I want to live forever. I am useful, and I am happy, and I am free.