“You didn’t have to get me this.”

Valerie suppressed a sigh, and remained silent, letting the moment pass before her face scrunched up in a frown that matched the heavy headache that built up on her temple. There goes the inner peace of the first weekend break she’s had in months.

“Seriously Lucy, this is a bit much. What even is this?

At 6’2, Valerie was a towering woman which only made the glower on her face strikingly intimidating. Her black hair hung loosely near her shoulders, somewhat damp from her morning shower. Her towel tightly hugged her toned ivory frame, obscuring the lithe muscles that wrapped around her stomach. It did little to hide the strength of her forearms and the toned muscles that rippled around her thighs and calves. She stared at the small coffee table shared in their living room. On top of it was a bubble-wrapped rectangular package, covering the entire surface of the table.

Valerie looked down and saw the face of her mischievous roommate eyeing the cleavage of her breasts, sitting cross-legged on their couch. Lucy wore her signature smile at her face, her wild dirty-blonde platinum hair styled in a wolfcut that left her looking like an unkept mess but fit her tanned skin just right. She was dressed in an off-shoulder black blouse that left more than a little room to see the tanned stomach of her midriff which trailed down to a pleated skirt that only barely reached above her knees. Valerie stifled a frown, rolling her eyes when she eyed the thin dark stockings that clung by Lucy’s thighs that dropped down to a matched set of thigh-high boots.

“Well. If you want to know, why don’t you try opening it?” Lucy teased with a grin and her eyes flicked to Valerie’s toned body, “Or are those things just for show.”

Valerie gave a thin smile. It was a fascinatingly polite one she had learned to use at work, not too small and not too wide and with just enough condescension that she hoped her roommate would get the message.

Unfortunately, it only made Lucy’s grin widen.

They’d only been roommates for the better part of a month in a cramped one-bedroom apartment that had enough space for room dividers for their beds. Between her hours as an overworked desk jockey and Lucy’s career as a freelance artist that made her home in some far-off studio, she knew little, if anything at all, of her roommate.

This arrangement had suited Valerie just fine. It was a blessing coming home to an empty apartment after a long day of underpaid overtime. But sometimes, whenever the world felt like laughing at her, she would come home to Lucy with another woman performing all sorts of… sordid activities hidden in their shared bedroom. Oftentimes, she’d just pretend to be too tired to notice or hear them even if her roommate made it a point to cause all her lovers to moan out her name from the first hours of the early morning to when the sun actually shone.

She tries not to think about how her breath hitched in the darkness with each moan. The raw desire fueled by the core of her stomach that bristled with a heat that she’d never managed to soothe. She stops her hand just as they start tracing patterns into her panties, its thin fabric already soaked.

God, she needed to get laid.

Valerie didn’t have a problem with lesbians, women weren’t exactly what came to mind when she wanted to have a good time. What she had a problem with were lesbians that did not respect her sleeping schedule and forced her to rely on the entire pot of coffee to get through the day.

“This seriously couldn’t have waited until I was done getting dressed?” Valerie rubbed the bridge of her nose, staring at the impish smile beneath her.

“It could have.” Lucy looked with a teasing smile, “But where’s the fun in that?”

The taller woman gave a sigh that came out more as a grumble but ultimately gave into her curiosity, moving over the side of the couch.

Carefully, Valerie unwrapped the package. She unwrapped the glassine papers and frowned when she saw Lucy’s ‘gift.’

It was a framed painting.

Valerie only needed a glance to understand what it was.

Abstract art. How original.

Splotches of color thrown on a canvas hardly qualified as art except for decorative dressing in stale business offices with lighting as monotonous. Out of rehearsed politeness, Valerie let her eyes wander around the image.

It was an utter mess of colors that seemed to have been stamped, mixed and overlapped with each other in monochromatic hues that, by a chaotic accident, seemed to make up the petals of a flower. Each stroke of monochrome stood out against a grey backdrop where the rain seemed to freeze, drawn in and painted to be white pinpricks that came to mind the white static of a television screen. At the center of the flower was a void speckled with tiny white buds, a feature that Valerie could only assume was a pistil, its blooming forever halted in a stasis made eternal and frozen within the canvas.

“It’s a… fascinating painting.” Valerie conceded, her eyes still idly focused on the painting by the table.

“It is. And I painted it just for you.” Lucy said, rising from her place on the couch. Valerie couldn’t bring herself to look away from the painting, instead her gaze remained fixated on the monochromatic flower.

“It’s just for me?” Valerie spoke softly, though it came out as a weak mumble.

“A pretty flower for a lovely lady.” Lucy let out a hum. “Why don’t you stand and stare for a little while longer, you deserve this break.”

It was, admittedly, beautiful to see how the mix of black and whites seemed to swirl together like a spiral engraved inside each petal. How easy it was to let her eyes trace over the details of one petal until it moved onto the next, drinking in another spiral.

One after another.

Simple.

Serene.

Dimly, she could see on her blurred periphery that Lucy was staring at her. It had a nervous energy mixed with anticipation? It hardly mattered, perhaps she was just nervous about Valerie critiquing her work. ‘She doesn’t need to be nervous’, Valerie begrudgingly admitted to herself, ‘it’s a pretty picture’

The minutes passed in a strange haze. In truth, she didn’t notice anything but the painting, how simple it was to just let go and feel the headache of last night just… fade into nonexistence. She hadn’t even noticed that Lucy had stood from the couch. All that mattered was standing and staring.

“So, what are you thinking right now?” Lucy whispered, her lips hot and heavy near Valerie’s ears. She giggled, the sound light and airy, echoing inside the other woman’s ears. There was a strange hint of… sarcasm to it but Valerie couldn’t help but give a small smile in return, a lightness suffusing throughout her body.

“Relaxing… Don’t want to move. But I have to… get dressed.” Valerie mumbled out, the words came out slurred and slow. Something in her mind was sifting its way through this fog, a tension inside her that squirmed and nibbled at her thoughts. Her eyebrows furrowed, the slight pulsing pressure nagged on her temple and itched in the back of her mind.

“Mhmm.” Lucy continued, “But right now, you don’t want to move. You just want to relax and enjoy the painting. Is it so bad to stop and stare? There’s nothing wrong with taking a bit of time to relax”

“Want to relax…Have been relaxing… But.. clothes.” Valerie almost whined at that last part, the dimness of her eyes causing Lucy to shiver with delight. “Not dressed… feels wrong”

“There’s nothing wrong with taking your time to admire a gift. We’re both women who’re simply looking at a painting.” Lucy spoke slowly with a patience that bordered on affection if not for the cruel lilt and inflection that came with each syllable. Lucy’s eyes looked to Valerie’s eyes as they drank in the swirls, all converging slowly towards the pistil. “It’s not good to be stressed on a weekend, Valerie”

“Not good…” Valerie parroted, feeling the tension in her head start to dissipate. Of course, this was just relaxation, a nice little weekend distraction. It would be rude to stop staring, especially with Lucy right there having painted it just for her.

“You have a problem when it comes to relaxing, Valerie.” Lucy clicked her tongue in disapproval, “A problem that’s stopping you from enjoying your gift.”

“Problem…” Valerie spoke slowly, “Don’t like problems…”

“Neither do I.” Lucy agreed, patting Valerie’s head affectionately, stroking each strand with an affectionate and exagerrated tenderness. “That’s why I’m here to help. You want me to help you, right? Especially since I made this painting just for you…”

“Lucy… helps…” Valerie repeated, faltering at the last word, a new frown clouding her somewhat vacant face. “But… Lucy doesn’t help…”

‘Oh, you cheeky little minx.’ Lucy thought to herself.

“But, I am here to help.” Lucy soothed with an amused smile. “The painting is helping you relax and the painting is a gift from me, doesn’t that mean I want to help you?”

Valerie blinked, slow and steady.

Of course, Lucy was there to help.

The flower helped her relax and Lucy was a good roommate for showing her the pretty petals. Lucy made the spirals and the spirals were what made her relax.

The dopey look on her face gave Lucy all the permission she needed.

“To help you relax, you need to trust me.” Lucy said, placing her head by Valerie’s clavicle. Seeing no resistance, she began nibbling at the exposed, gradually making her way up. Lucy moaned with delight, thrilling with delight at the lack of resistance, and she continued nibbling on Valerie’s earlobe.

“Your problem is that you think. Thinking should be done when you’re working and you’re not working right now, are you? You’re relaxing. You need to let all the bad thoughts go when you’re at home.”

“Now, take it off.”

Valerie shivered and drew her arms towards the tucked folds of her towel, slipping out of them and feeling the cold air of the air conditioned room brush against her nude body. Her nipples, perky and pinkish perked up in attention.

“See how your body just responds and melts into pure happiness. You want to feel more, relax more, and that means doing what Lucy says.” Lucy continued, tentatively wrapping her arms around Valerie’s body and feeling the soft flesh practically melt into her hand. Valerie’s nipples hardened underneath the warmth of her palm as her roommate kneaded her breasts. Each motion only made her squirm, rubbing over Lucy’s body as she whined in pleasure.

Lucy left a trail of kisses over Valerie’s neck, emboldened by the heat that rose inside her. She clung to Valerie hungrily, each kiss driven by a need - a hunger that left Lucy aching for more even finally having Valerie all to herself. The pleasure was an electric dream, Lucy pinched and massaged her nipples in alternating rhythm. A distant part of Valerie noticed that it was a different touch than a man’s - softer, purposeful, and far less clumsy.

One of Lucy’s hands drew away from her nipple and softly drifted down from her breasts, leaving a hazy heat that stretched from Valerie’s sternum, drifting down to her navel, as the hand finally rested on her groin.

She shivered, moaning with delight as the hand gently cupped her crotch, one of Lucy’s fingers began to trail down and she felt a sharp jolt of pleasure as Lucy lazily played with her clit.

With a mischievous smile, Lucy rubbed the small nub of flesh with practiced strokes. She watched with delight as Valerie tried to buck against her hand, a clear desperation present in how she had squeezed her thighs together. Lucy could feel the wetness dripping down her fingers while the rest slid down Valerie’s thighs.

And then she gave it a light pinch.

There was a feverish quality to the way Valerie began to moan and pant like the needy little slut Lucy always knew she could be. She inched her fingers deeper, feeling the warm wetness of pussy juice coat her fingers when she reached her pet’s folds. Her fingers brushed against them softly, rubbing against her pet’s slit but not committing. She laughed whenever she began inching her fingers away whenever Valerie tried to buck her thighs downward.

“Naughty, naughty.” Lucy whispered in her ear, emphasizing the words with a harsh pinch to each of Valerie’s nipples with her free hand. She thumbed one of them in between her fingers, enjoying the texture of the other woman’s areolas and the heat of the erect flesh jutting out.

“Valerie, I have big plans for you.” Lucy smiled.

She dipped her fingers back into Valerie’s slit.

“Very big plans.”

Valerie’s only reply was a thin line of drool that dripped down her tits as she stared vacantly back into the painting.

-

“No mom, it didn’t work out, remember? I broke up with him five months ago.” Valerie clicked her tongue, counting each second until her mom’s call would finally end. She stared past the window of the dim bedroom, white and yellow lights twinkling all the way to the city’s skyline. They felt angry and bright especially with the dimness of the night.

She had arrived home close to midnight after someone had blundered yet again. Her manager had asked her to put out yet another imaginary fire or else everyone would have a payment deduction. As usual, nevermind that she was only slated to work until 5 P.M per shift, she caved. She tried to get rid of the stress through coping at the company gym like usual but while it still felt good, her thoughts drifted to someplace more important.

The Painting.

She zoned off, letting her mom rattle on about half-remembered neighbors and even foggier cousins and relatives. The voice droned on and on, about marriages and promotions of people she could hardly give a shit but had to pretend she was happy for and the constant redirection of having to apologize for not ‘settling’ down yet. Once, it would have gotten to her, this provocation of pouring gasoline into the burning wreckage of what, by her approximation, once resembled a life.

The thought of it all made Valerie want to cry. It made her want to destress.

It made her want to Relax.

It was all shrill noise at this point.

“Yeah, I know the house has a leaky roof. Yes, I know the family fridge isn’t working right anymore. Look, you don’t need to worry, I’ll wire some cash once my paycheck arrives.” The headache pulsed behind her eyes, as if something inside of her was demanding an end to this charade.

“Yeah, you too.”

She threw the phone on her bed, and stretched her body. Internally, she took stock of any chores or tasks that she had to do for work. She had already finished every single chore left in the house once she had arrived home straight from work. It would be rather inconvenient for Relaxation if Valerie had forgotten to do her Outside job. Her mind parsed through the memories of the tedium of her working life, thinking back to any tasks that might have slipped her mind.

Finding none, she was satisfied and stepped out of the room to Relax.

It was silly to have been stressed out about any of that.

Past the doorway of her bedroom, she wondered where Mis- Lucy was.

Valerie walked with Purpose. She could feel the excitement on her steps - a somewhat restless energy that propelled her towards her destination.

Still, she noted with concern that she walked slower than she usually did when she first learned to Relax.

The painting hung at the center of the living room with a black box on top of the coffee table. Usually, at this point, she’d just half-heartedly watch a reality show while scrolling on her phone to feel horrible about herself.

But something inside her had changed recently. She couldn’t articulate it. And idly, with a small sigh of confusion, couldn’t even begin to understand where this certainty of her current steps had come from - as if a long-forgotten purpose had crystallized itself in her mind.

This confusion had nagged at her for the last few weeks, an intrusive thought that prickled and made her feel restless. It was an unwelcome yet familiar restlessness that Lucy had gotten rid of by showing her what it meant to Relax by appreciating her art.

There was no time or purpose to dwell on it, what came next was simply what she needed to do to Relax. Her brain hummed in agreement.

It was a good feeling.

She closed the blinds of the windows, mindful of any eyes and made her way to the lightswitch, letting only the fluorescent lights of the apartment shine.

Then, slowly, methododically she slipped off of her clothes, folding them neatly and placing them on top of the table. Unashamedly, she stood nude in the living room, her nipples already erect and her pussy slightly wet from anticipation.

A Good Girl doesn’t get to Relax if she was too impatient to follow simple instructions.

She placed a pillow on her spot right near the table, angling it to make sure it had a clearer view of the painting. Idly, she noted to herself that not once had she looked at its center, always hesitating at an invisible threshold. It had made Mistress sad whenever she saw that hesitation and Valerie couldn’t help but feel bad for disappointing Mistress.

With enough time, it was something to be trained into her. Relaxation was only possible if Lucy allowed it so it was only right to do her Routine, so she knelt down and opened the black box.

The first thing to use was the collar.

Idly, she traced her fingers on it, feeling the coldness of the metal buckles around it, leaving imprints of coolness on her fingertips. It was a strange sensation that never failed to make her shiver in delight. She traced the black texture of the leather, gliding her fingers across it to truly appreciate its quality. Gingerly, she lifted up, watching with delight as she saw a tasteful ‘V’ emblazoned with a golden lace embroidery.

Her collar.

The second thing she knew to use was the wand vibrator. It was a decent length, white and sterile with more knobs and buttons than she knew what to do with. It looked expensive, and a small part of her mind still marveled at how Lucy was able to afford something this.

Still, there were things far more important to do than thinking of Mistress’s finances at the moment.

Mistress? Since when-

She placed the vibrator by groin, a dumb smile blossoming on her face when she felt the cold lubricated head of the device push against her moist clit. It thrilled her to finally Relax, letting that warm nothingness fill her mind when the pleasure suffused throughout her body.

Relax.

Sink Into The Pretty Petals.

Relax.

It was satisfying to know that she could spend these listless hours being blissfully free of anything - an animal comfort that led her mind sinker into its own depths. She felt the toy push against her folds, feeling free enough to let out her moans in the living room. There was only one expectation to fulfill and that was her own pleasure.

She imagined Mistress’s voice, guiding her deeper and deeper into her own oblivion, of the peace that came with just slipping further into the pleasure. The warmth of Mistress's hands, perfect and slender as they’d toy with her.

Would she finger her? Already, she could feel herself squeezing as the thought of Mistress’s fingers pumping inside of her. She could already feel herself wet at the thought of one finger, could already feel the ghost of a second one as Mistress would go back and forth, telling her all the while how much of a good slut she was, how good it was of her to relax just for her.

She sank deeper into her thoughts, wondering if she would soon have the privilege of tasting her Mistress again. Of doing nothing but receiving the pleasure of letting her Mistress come and come again all over her face, drinking and swallowing her juices like the needy little slave she was. She could imagine the taste, the sweetness and tangyness that she drank day after day after she had been exposed to the painting and learned to Relax.

‘Fuck!’ She cried out after feeling the increased intensity of the tool. Adjusting it to intensify even more just as Mistress had taught her. The wand pushed deeper, feeling the vibration brush against her inner passage and her folds.

There was no need to be worried about anything else. It would be a life where she could feel this buzzing on her cunt, a life where she could slip further into the painting, a world where the only thing that mattered was Mistress's happiness. It was a paradise compared to the life she had now.

She started rubbing the wand harder, the thought of it being too wonderful to imagine. The enormity of it all made her previous dreams seem distant, a vague uncertainty of living for herself with no rhyme or reason.

The first of many orgasms erupted from and soaked her fingers as she orgasmed into her hands. She licked it with a fond detachment, practicing the way she licked so that it would look lovely for Mistress.

The sound of the doorbell brought Valerie from her high, acting quickly she placed the vibrator on the table, still glistening with her juices. With an annoyed ‘tsk’, she took the collar off and placed it back in the box with tender care.

Then she slowly got dressed, an annoyed frown on her face once she opened the door.

“I bought us takeout?” Lucy smiled at the doorway, drinking in Valerie’s disheveled look with a satisfied smile. She held a plastic bag full of take out boxes as she was dressed in her work attire, a simple white shirt filled with splotches of paint, and high-rise denim jeans. She looked plain and unassuming compared to Valerie’s haphazardly-dressed work attire.

“Lucy?” Valerie’s mind blanked. She could feel her nipples harden, poking through her dress shirt’s fabric which felt dangerously thin. In the light, she knew Lucy had a clear view of them but found she didn’t mind. “You’re not supposed to be back until tomorrow. What happened to your keys?”

“Oh, looking out for my schedule, are you?” Lucy’s head tilted, “Are you sure that you’re following the steps to Relax?”

“Yes! I am.” Valerie’s voice instantly shot out as the question was asked, offended at the thought of deviating from her Routine. Then she felt herself heat up, realizing she had yelled at Lucy of all people.

Before she could apologize, Lucy had already moved with a hum, saying “That’s good.” A small skip on her step as she entered the doorway, thrusting out her hand as if she expected Valerie to take the food like some sort of pet.

What a presumptu-

Which Valerie eagerly did, savoring the brief contact with Lucy’s fingers. She even closed the door and locked it, smiling attentively.

“I left my keys at the studio. I called one of my girls to get it. She’ll be here soon.” Lucy said, peeking over the living room sofa and looking at the soaked pillow and the even wetter vibrator on their table, “You just started?”

“Yes.” The reply was automatic and apologetic as Valerie felt herself burn with shame. “There was a call and-”

“Don’t worry, I’m not mad. I’m sure you had your reasons to delay your Relaxation.” Lucy smiled knowingly, headed towards their kitchen.

Dumbly, Valerie rushed to the kitchen watching Lucy with rapt attention while she set the boxes, taking great care to prepare Lucy’s box first, setting aside utensils for Lucy first. She stood silently, watching Lucy open the box and begin to show down. Valerie’s eyes flitted between the table and her spot in the living room, torn between what Lucy expected her to do.

There was a brief pause when Lucy looked at her hesitancy, just eyeing her she fidgeted in place.

“Why are you still standing there?” Lucy asked with an amused knowing smile that Valerie couldn’t quite place. “Why aren’t you sitting down?”

“Because…” Valerie paused for a moment, furrowing her brows and thought deeply to herself or rather tried to. The absence of an answer concerned her. Should have. But she knew it ultimately was fruitless to care.

“Because you… didn’t.” She mumbled her words, feeling the heat in her cheeks turn her face beet-red. She swallowed, stuffing down the uncertainty. She knew with a bone-deep intensity that she simply needed to say the words to realize how true they were.

“You didn’t give me permission.”

Lucy hummed and, as if testing the waters, said “You can sit with me if you want to eat dinner you know… Only if you wear your collar.”

Valerie didn’t question it, didn’t question why she walked back to the box and, with a delicate touch, took the collar from its place and clasped it around her neck.

She sat down, feeling the chaos of thought recede into blank noise.

“Good Girl.”

Valerie felt the wetness return once she heard Mistress’s voice, moaning into her seat as she squirmed, rubbing her ties together as the wetness would inevitably stain her skirt. It didn’t matter.

“So, how was your day?” Mistress smiled, eyes crinkled brighter than the gold on Valerie’s throat.

-

Dinner was a happy affair. And it wasn’t just because she was a sopping wet mess.

Mistress had listened to her. Valerie had forgotten the simple kindness of having someone actually listen to her problems, of having someone be there while she rambled about work. For someone to be there to tell her she wasn’t crazy for feeling used up by everyone around her.

Sure, Mistress made her wash their utensils right after but that was natural, expected even. When she handled Mistress’s spoon and fork properly, she made sure to thank her for the privilege of serving.

It was what she wanted after all.

Serving Mistress was relaxing unlike all those irritations. And what better way was there to relax than to let your roommate fuck you whenever she wanted?

So it was only natural that she found herself bent over the couch.

Valerie felt something cold probing near her cunt, cold and rigid in a way that sent a pulse of pleasure towards the burning heat in her core.

She didn’t dare look back but she knew that Lucy must have prepared her strap-on. There was desperation with how she imagined Mistress through her mind’s eye; she imagined the way the leather straps hugged Mistress's thighs, or the way they accentuated her gorgeous ass as they looped around in a harness with her favorite cock from Mistress’s collection.

“That one’s my favorite.” Valerie gasped out, hungry for the first toy that Mistress had used on her after she had learned to Relax. With a small uncertainty, she spoke the words that she knew marked a turning point.

“Please fuck me, Mistress.”

There was silence. One so sudden, it made Valerie wonder if she’d done something to upset Mistress. Panic began to pool inside her. Was she not respectful enough in her begging? Before she could open her mouth to apologize, she felt hands tangle and clump her hair as her head was yanked back from behind.

“Poor girl, you’ve been through a lot.” Lucy murmured behind her, wrapping one of her hands around her hair in a vicelike clamp.

“I’ll make it all go away.”

When Mistress entered her, Valerie felt as if her whole life was just a trial for this moment. She clamped down hard on the dildo, feeling herself clench and embrace it as if it was a long-missing part of herself even as it slid outside her.

There was a gentle rhythm to Mistress’s movement, a rhythm that gradually escalated as Mistress began to realize she could handle it. Desire fueled the pleasure that came with each thrust as she felt herself be the proper toy that her mistress needed.

The pain on her scalp was nothing compared to the joy of having Mistress pull her head up.

“Look at the painting.” Mistress murmured into her ear, an order emphasized with a strong thrust into her pussy, spoken with that deliciously commanding tone of hers.

Mistress made sure she had a clear view of the Pretty Flower. And so, Valerie obliged.

The Painting made letting go so much easier.

On instinct, she made sure she kept her pussy tight so that Mistress could enjoy her properly. She could feel the impact of her flesh on the plastic hilt, alternating between being filled and not, as Mistress kept slamming from behind. She could smell the scent of their sweat, the sex, and their juices together in a lovely haze.

She had been too Stressed back then, so Stressed that she still had flashes of thought that tried to warn her about Lucy, of resisting this all-consuming pleasure. Even now, she knew that part of her was still fighting the inevitable.

Yet a part of her unconditioned mind still wondered: why resist? Throughout life, she was dragged around in so many directions, a constant tug-of-war with so many people just needing things from her. Each day was something she had less and less control over. Far too much work and with such an inverse proportion to the volume of how much shit that was shoveled into her schedule. Every second of every day; an infinity of mediocrity to live a life where she’d be pinching pennies for the next crisis piled onto her life from her mother to her job to whatever nightmare came next each time she woke up.

What was she fighting so hard for anyway?

This was what she wanted after all.

To be fucked.

To serve.

To Relax.

She screamed her pleasure now, uncaring if any neighbors heard her cries as she moaned like an animal into the darkness of their living room. Mistress seemed to have been pleased by this, having increased her pace to wild abandon, having let go of Valerie’s hair. One of her hands began to grope her tits, snaking around Valerie’s modest chest and pinching Valerie’s nipples in between the soft texture of her palms.

The door to the apartment opened up behind them and closed just as quickly with a small lock all while Lucy still kept fucking her.

Valerie tried to turn back, but Lucy shushed her, clamping her mouth shut with her fingers, smearing her lips with her own taste. A fact that Valerie took advantage of by sucking on them and enjoying her own taste, as she stared deeper into the painting.

‘Let Mistress take care of it’ Her mind seemed to tell her.

And so she did.

It didn’t matter when she saw the stranger enter into her view, standing next to the Painting.

The figure gave way to a lady, tall and dressed in a richly-tailored ivory suit. She looked out of place in their apartment, a beacon of luxury in urban mediocrity. Her eyes were foxlike, eyeing Valerie with such intensity that she felt like a piece of meat only made even more severe by her prominent cheekbones and blood-red lips. Valerie’s arousal returned once she looked at the woman’s handsome face, framed by a tidy blonde bob that emphasized her graceful features, barely reaching her neck. She took in the woman’s nose, the refined cheekbones and the seemingly severe loo, feeling herself clamp up in response.

Valerie’s ragged breathing and moans continued, still lost in the high of feeling Mistress’s dildo inside of her. She could feel something in her stomach, shame and pleasure in a delightful mix at knowing that someone could see that she was owned, of just how thoroughly Mistress dominated her and how she could make Mistress feel good in return for that honour. And she felt it all release, crying blissfully as her knees buckled and feeling the release of another orgasm rock her body, of having been useful to Mistress.

And still she looked at the Painting.

“This one isn’t your usual preference, Mistress.” The stranger tilted her head, there was no judgement in her voice, only a slight curiosity that morphed into a pleased expression as she scanned the afterglow on Valerie’s face.

She took in the woman’s nose, the refined cheekbones and the seemingly severe look - and recognition dawned on her when her eyes drew to the woman’s neck. There was a collar, ivory and gold just like hers with a tasteful I stitched on its front.

“What can I say, Iris.” Mistress said with a laugh, a hitch in her voice after she pulled out of Lucy. Her dildo was slick with Valerie’s juices - a thin line of the woman’s ejaculate clinging onto the smooth plastic. “I have a diverse palate.”

“You did very well at pleasing me, dear.” Mistress leaned down and whispered into Valerie’s ear before she gave her toy a kiss. “You can stop looking at the Painting now, I’d say now would be the perfect time to get you settled with the rest of the girls. Go get your things.”

“Oh, before I forget. Model One, put the collar back in the box and help me pack up one of my masterpiece.”” Mistress gave a sharp snap of her fingers. Iris immediately walked in front of Valerie. She gingerly reached behind Valerie’s throat and withdrew the collar reverently and placed it back in the box by the table.

Valerie didn’t question it. Not a single thought of resistance entered her mind. Not even when she stood up, not when she went to her room and began packing her essentials, and not even when she quietly accepted that this would be the last time she would think of this place as hers. It was easier to smooth out her attire than get dressed entirely. She relished in the way that Mistress's scent clung to her. Not a single part of her looked back when she crammed the entirety of her life into a single suitcase, closed the door and locked it.

-

Lucy’s studio was in a rich part of the city. It was the kind of rich where the streets noticeably got cleaner past a certain threshold and where, at a certain point, where even she started feeling like she was cheap. It was a realm of sports-cars run by a dozen M.B.A’s all vying for the same top place in the rat race where she was squarely at a spot that was barely above the bottom.

They had stopped in front of it with Lucy carrying Valerie’s wrapped painting and picking it up from the back of Iris’s car. The other woman had simply given Lucy an enigmatic smile after she had kissed Lucy goodbye. Lucy had made her stand and watch her practically tonguefuck Iris’s throat.

But that was only natural, Iris had driven them and Lucy was just helping her relax after that drive and so Valerie didn’t mind it, it was a reward for a good girl that helped Lucy. She even found her hands rubbing her slit through the already messy fabric of her office skirt. Lucy had told her she didn’t need underwear for this and she was right as she usually was.

“Valerie, dear. Let’s head inside.” Lucy smiled and gave Iris’s tongue one final suck.

It was a discrete building, a one-story building sandwiched between two luxury shops. A boutique flanked one side while a more miscellaneous store was on the other - discrete and discerning enough in the way that most sex shops definitely were not. Lucy caught her staring and giggled, signaling for her to open the door with a cough.

Valerie snapped out of thinking and instantly went closer to Lucy instead. She had been so absent-minded that she had let Lucy carry her Painting. It was a silly mistake, what kind of idiot was she that she would let Lucy stress out over something.

“Lucy, let me carry the painting, please. It’s the least I can do for you.” She had tried to preserve some level of dignity there but as usual, Lucy saw through it and gave her a pat on the head after she had practically dropped the painting on Valerie’s hands, skipping into her workshop with an amused foxy grin.

The interior was professional. The main room was lit up by a skylight that filtered moonlight into the room. There were canvases littered throughout the room, some covered in cloth while they laid half-finished in their easels. But more importantly there were three other women, chatting animatedly near a section of the wall that was covered up by a curtain.

They were all women on the taller side, all suspiciously taller than Lucy. She realized with a start that one of them was the lawyer whose face she’d seen in the news just a few days ago. She had been embroiled in some class-action lawsuit, even winning it despite the legal team of the company she fought being second-to-none. She had looked so miserable then, her sunken face and eye-bags so prominent in the headlines of every article. Now, her messy silver-streaked hair was smoothed over in a beautiful bun as she laughed at some whispered joke that left the whole group laughing.

“Sasha, you naughty slut!” She giggled, light and teasing, and it made Valerie gawk wehn she realized all of them wore some variation of lingerie. The lawyer - Cassandra, Valerie’s mind supplied, was dressed in a lavender see-through babydoll. Her tawny skin practically glowed in the light of the studio, her Grecian features practically at home with all of the works of art and busts in Lucy’s studio.

“What?” The youngest in the group spoke innocently, Sasha she presumed, her voice was enthusiastic and even from the door she heard it loud and clear. “It’s not my fault that I’ve been thinking about Mistress fucking us at work.” Unlike the others, she looked to have been Lucy’s age, the brightness of a twenty-something standing out among the group of jaded women. She wore a silky white chemise that flaunted her creamy white thighs.

“Yes, well.” Valerie could hear the mirth in Cassandra’s voice and it left her with such a profound feeling of emptiness at the thought of someone finding such peace. “I’m sure Mistress certainly didn’t propose recording all of it and distributing it like cheap pornos.”

“You ladies know that she could totally pass it off as one of those arthouse, avante-garde whatever films, all she needs to do is paint us or on us while she’s doing it. I wouldn’t mind it if some loser art critic sat down with his dick on his hands while he watched any of us bounce on Mistress’s strap…” Sashsa whined.

“Calm down, girls.” A calm voice spoke after she provided a restrained giggle, “It’s not our place to decide what Mistress wants.” She gently chided and looked at Valerie and Lucy with a sly look. She was elegant, a knowing smile playing on her ruby-red lips, small and plump with just a few tired lines of her asianic features betraying her age.

The other two caught onto it and immediately the group went straight towards them.

“Mistress you’re back!” Sasha giggled with a dreamy expression, visibly shivering when Lucy reached out to stroke her neck like a prized pet.

“Is this… our new sister?” Cassandra said, voice not unkind but definitely assessing - the thought of it should have made Valerie worry, that this logical beacon of authority was talking about her initiation into a harem as if it was a normal day.

It just made her want to stick her fingers into her pussy even more.

The other girls looked at her with a mixture of fondness and… jealousy? There was nostalgia in their eyes - a want to see another woman added to their sisterhood. A bond transcendent beyond blood or personal ambition. There was an aching need to their looks as if they were recalling a time when they were in her shoes, reliving the days when they were about to be… properly broken in.

And Valerie was reminded about what she was truly about to be:

Pet.

Toy.

Slave.

She felt the painting on her hands removed from her grasp as the elegant woman gave a polite smile before she felt warm hands wrap themselves around her back. Iris was hugging her from behind and, with a quick kiss, gently led her deeper into the studio as she moved to lead her by the hand, closing the door with a final click with one hand.

There were no more words needed, only action fueled by want and kinship of her fellow women who’d surrendered to inner peace.

Her eyes looked at the enthusiastic women around her. Was this so bad?

And so she surrendered.

There was a tangle of hands, all over her as they probed and teased, mixing with the gooseflesh that already prickled her skin. She felt heat and love and so much care around her. She could feel warmth on her thighs, on her ass, and the sweet feeling of several tongues working in perfect synergy as they nipped at her and licked in a storm of perfect wetness.

She felt herself pushed to the bed, landing on the silk covered mattress and felt herself spreading her legs in an act of surrender so sweet she wondered why she had even resisted at all. She felt the warmth of an experienced tongue trace gentle patterns on her clit and stole the warmth of her thighs with practiced kisses and licks. Not a single part of her wasn’t put to use, not when she saw the pretty perfect shape of a pussy engulf her face as one of the girls, Sarah most likely with that cherry sweet giggle placed her ass on her face.

The musky scent unlocked something primitive in her mind, lapping and slurping the taste and juices of another woman, tangy but sweet in its own way as she lapped and licked even when she felt herself become a toy underneath this woman, closing her eyes and finally letting herself be and just let go.

And yet a small part of her mind paused, and tried to readjust itself to this absurd reality of hot skin and flushed faces of beautiful women.

Approaching onwards with the same wonderful strap-on was Mistress. On her waist was that perfect dildo lubed and shining with the clear shine of lubricant. Around her, the women whimpered in needy moans and whines. She could her own pussy clench in need and she wondered just how much she could tighten her throat if only to make Mistress happy to see her gagged and choking like the toy she was.

In a panicked frenzy, she looked at each of their collars, and a pit of despair opened inside her that swallowed whatever dim hope she had left even as the warmth of her core threatened to unravel whatever shred of morality anchored herself back to the disturbing thread of logic that finally asserted itself once the golden filigree of the collars shined in the dark of this lust-fueled haze.

I.

II.

III.

IV.

She thought back to her collar.

V.

“You did something to me. To them.” Valerie’s voice reached Lucy who smiled. Her eyes, practically bloodshot, tried to avoid the deranged tableau in front of her. She tried to force them to look away, to move out of the bed and get her body out to the door that promised an end to this horrific nightmare.

She got up and scrambled away from the bed, a flurry of giggles following her, each woman letting her disentangle herself from the warm bodies that pressed against her. It felt as though everyone here knew she was standing on a crossroads that she couldn’t see stretched, a road traveled once she shot out from the door and into the studio’s cool air as she placed her hand by the door’s handle.

Sasha’s labored breathing came from behind, huffing and moaning as she climaxed again and again under Mis- Lucy’s ministrations begging for more.

She turned the door’s handle and yet her hands shook, paused and in that hesitation, a single treasonous thought, one so crude yet simple in its cruelty, made her way into her mind: is there anything waiting for me outside?

She heard the sex behind her, the smell of it all as the girls writhed and rode each other in pleasure again and again.

And firm arms wrapped themselves around her waist.

There really was no winning here.

Only the certainty of obliteration.

And a new beginning.

Mistress led her deeper back into the studio, having her sit by a chair in front of the painting that they hung earlier, moonlit shining into the monochromatic flower.

They attached things onto her, a tangle of plastic and warmed rubber that made her cunt feel full and her nipples lovingly strangled by. She could feel the chill of lubrication slide down her pussy as they prepared it with their fingers, gently nudging a toy inside of her hole. She could feel the way her nipples hardened and engorged themselves as they placed small bullets of nipple vibrations that hummed against her flesh and caused her to shiver and shake as sweat and pussy juice tingled on her skin.

But there was only one thing that mattered.

Something that mattered more than the painting even as her mind sank deeper into a place that warned her there was no coming back from this.

Her voice.

“Imagine it. All the stress, all the pain of the outside world that you’ve so desperately avoided. It weighs you down, just an endless monotony day-in and day-out. And when these thoughts fill every space, every crevice in your mind.” A deranged enthusiasm colored each of these words as Lucy finally felt the cusp of her victory.

And just like that, Valerie felt it all, the pressure of workplace deadlines, the aches in her body with only the warmth of a cup of coffee to keep her company. Something deeper inside her began to make itself known, she felt the frustration of her dry spell bubbling over. She remembered old flames, old exes using and leaving her as if she were a toy, and the burning white-hot feeling of frustration locked away by countless excuses to focus on her career. She felt the humiliation of being the voyeur of all of Lucy’s midnight escapades repeated in her head, the humiliation of having to clean up their apartment day-in and day-out.

But then she felt the pleasure. The clarity of being owned by someone who truly valued her, who wouldn’t abandon her but obsessed over her to the point of claiming her body, her mind, her soul. It wasn’t love, it was something so utterly depraved that it should have made her sick but it was something. Most of all, she felt the totality of pleasure, of being so utterly consumed by the pleasure in her cunt, of Mistress’s tongue on her clit and on her pussy, of having her tongue pleasure Mistress like the worthless fucktoy she was.

“I’m not enough… Mom, I’m sorry… Please… Let me Relax. I can’t… I can’t…” All of Valerie’s feelings came out in half-hearted phrases, desperate for escape as Lucy watched those tears start to well-up in her eyes, the pleasure of the orgasm rippling through her body.

“Do the people in your life really value you, I wonder?” Lucy continued, putting her finger down by Valerie’s chin, “Or do they only value you because of what they could take from you? Nobody. Not your mother, not your coworkers, or what little friends you have noticed anything about your struggles, that you hardly even reach out anymore and instead just spend your days looking at my painting.” She tilted Valerie’s head and looked straight at her eyes. “Only I cared enough to take away your hurt, your pain, your stress and made you Relax.”

For a moment, the sight of it all made Lucy feel an old familiar feeling that set her nerves alight. She felt the thrilling fire of shame fill her heart as it pounded out of guilt. Each thump was an accusation levied against her by her own body. And, just for a moment, she imagined a world where she was better than she actually was. A kinder world where she could handwave it all off as a strange therapeutic experience and let things settle back into their usual rhythm.

It was a familiar shame that burned its arousal into her soul with every Model she collected.

She thought of Valerie’s lips on her pussy, of the way those pretty pink nipples existed just for her. She thought of the kindness that Valerie showed her, the love and intimacy of that dinner they shared, conditioned as the other woman may have been. Was that the real Valerie? Was that what she’d been missing all of her life?

The thought of stripping all that away made her pussy so fucking wet.

“Even as the words help you escape. They come back… Stronger and stronger in your head. You need an escape. You need to let these thoughts go.” Lucy cooed, a small smile playing at her lips, “Only I can give you that escape. Now, look at the center of the flower, its bud is just like you, ready to bloom but all it needs is a little push.”

Valerie’s tear-stained eyes resisted, even as she blinked back hot tears but in the end, she gazed at the center of the painting. The black pistil that was the center of the flower was a void. A void that demanded every inch of memory that made up who Valerie was.

There was a scream, a voice that cried and raged. It sounded like her, but it sounded too emotional, too wrong. It echoed, spluttered and died someplace far away from here. A small feeling of hurt bumped in her chest, of the trashing death throes of something taken away forever. It died at the same moment that she convulsed and orgasmed one final time all over the cushion of her chair.

She felt something wet slide from her eyes.

She blinked it away, and regained her awareness after that moment of disorientation. Her eyes brightened at the sight of her new Sisters who smiled at her with an acceptance that left her heart soaring.

Why had she ever resisted this?

“Something wrong, Valerie?”

A bright and vacant smile appeared on Model V’s face, and she shook her head demurely. After all, Mistress was speaking and she certainly didn’t ask Model V to speak.

“Good. She has learned.” One of her sisters spoke, and she recognized it as Model I. Valerie took a look at her, the other woman’s face was scrunched up in something that looked like pride.

Now, she was Relaxed. She was Good. She was Slave, Pet, and Toy.

She was whatever Mistress wanted her to be.

And a faint imprint of a word echoed in the depths of her mind as it formed into certainty for the final time, she was a Model.

She felt something slide around her neck with a soft click.

It felt like home.

Fin.