Pause for a quick disclaimer, for anyone who might have ended that last chapter slightly worried about me! I mean, I bet not many of you were - probably too busy jacking off, or jilling off, or ran-up-the-hilling off to the thought of me being turned into a happy, horny slavegirl, am I right? (No judgement, I just know my target audience!) But just in case anyone is concerned - hi, I’m still Alyssa, I’m fine, Richard didn’t permanently brainwash me into being submissive, gullible, dopey Danielle. He wouldn’t have been cruel enough to do that to me - and I wouldn’t have wanted him to (at least, not then), so it wouldn’t work.

But in that moment, I was completely gone. Everything I was had been wiped away - all my memories, my past, friends, family, were all forgotten; my snarky, bratty, playful personality was erased - and what was left was... Danielle. Danielle, who only had about ten minutes’ worth of memories at that point. Danielle, who would believe anything Richard told her, because her ability to not believe him had been bound. Danielle, who was now convinced that she was just his slave - that he was her owner, her Master, and she only existed to serve him and do as he told her.

Now, I didn’t know in advance that he was going to do this, but it wasn’t a surprise. We’d been working more and more submission into our kinky relationship ever since we started exploring hypnosis - not to put too fine a point on it, we both found it hot as fuck. Add memory play to that, and I was probably hornier than I’d ever been in my life once he’d brainwashed and renamed me. I don’t know where he got ‘Danielle’ from, but I think it’s a nice, pretty name. (Now that I think about it, that was one of the options he gave me all the way back in chapter 3, eight months ago, when he’d first made me forget my name. I guess he’d had it in his head for a long time! And hey, now I’m re-reading it - that’s the one I guessed! Maybe I was drawn to that name - and that might be why he chose it...)

Anyway, yeah, I’m rambling, as usual. Point is, I - Alyssa Johnson, being of sound mind (at least right now, while I’m writing this) - was, and am, completely OK with what my boyfriend did to me. If I hadn’t been, I’d’ve said ‘beetroot’ and he’d have called a halt to it. (I have used ‘beetroot’ a couple of times, back in the early days, but I haven’t told you about those occasions - and I probably won’t - because they’re not fun!) And I, Alyssa Johnson, did not exist in that moment. I mean, I did - all my memories and personality were still there, but buried so deep in my subconscious that my body’s new occupant, Danielle, had no idea that they were there.

Bleh, OK - the boring bit where I clarify that I’m mentally and emotionally fine, and that my boyfriend didn’t take advantage of me (more than I wanted him to) is over. Now, where were we...?

***

So there on the carpet knelt a girl who looked like me, sounded like me, wore my clothes, but - at that moment - wasn’t me. (At least, not really. I guess you could say she was my submissive side, but given an independent form and personality of her own.)

Danielle couldn’t remember any of her past, but her Master had told her everything she needed to know for the moment. She was his willing, eager, horny slave. She followed his commands without question. That was all she wanted or needed out of life. Obeying her Master brought her utter joy and contentment. She knew this, even though Master hadn’t actually given her any commands yet. But oh boy, once he did, how good would that feel?

She gazed up at her Master, waiting for him to speak. She thought she might explode from excitement.

He stood up, crossing to the corner of the room and picking up a long black leash. Danielle stayed on her knees like a good slave, watching him. She wondered where the leash had come from. She wondered if he’d ever used it on her before. She hoped he would.

“Follow me,” he commanded, walking past her towards the bedroom door.

“Yes, Master,” she said eagerly, feeling a thrill at her first real order to follow - or at least, the first one she could remember. She started to climb to her feet.

“No, Danielle,” Master said firmly, “crawl.”

Her jaw dropped from sheer delight. Of course she should crawl! That was exactly how a slave should move around. “Yes, Master!” Dropping onto all fours, she crawled after him. He walked faster than her and was soon out of sight, but she didn’t let that deter her, continuing to inexorably plod forwards on her hands and knees.

It occurred to her that normal girls didn’t behave like this. They didn’t crawl around at the say-so of someone else, to show their submission. It was degrading, demeaning. But of course, Danielle wasn’t a normal girl. She was a slave. Property, a pet, a toy. A good, obedient plaything. And for someone like that, being degraded and demeaned and forced to demonstrate her total subservience was a good thing. She could tell that just from how horny she was getting! At this point she thought her cream chinos were probably soaked through. She could smell her own arousal, which made her wetter still.

By the time Danielle reached the living room - which looked exactly as she’d expected it to, even though she’d never been in there before, according to Master’s undeniable words - her beloved owner was sitting on the couch watching television. As she approached him, he pointed to the floor in front of his seat. “Stop there,” he told her.

“Yes, Master,” she said breathily, finding it hard to contain her lust as she imagined what he might have her do next.

Once she was in place in front of him, staring straight down at the carpet below her, Master raised his legs and rested them on her back. Danielle gasped, not from the weight - Master’s legs were easy for her to hold up - but from the sense of being treated as furniture. It made her feel useful. It made her feel proud. And, of course, it made her feel horny as hell.

“You seem pretty aroused, Danielle,” Master noted. (Massive understatement.) “Do you want me to fuck you? To make you cum?”

Danielle whimpered. “Yes, Master...”

“How badly?”

“So badly, Master!” Her mind filled with mental images - of Master getting up from his seat, coming behind her, sliding down her pants, and taking her hard from behind. Of lying on her back on the floor, Master on top of her, railing her into oblivion. Of kneeling between his legs and sucking his big, hard cock, pleasuring him with her tongue, his hand in her hair, forcing her head down further...

(Incidentally, not the first time I’ve had those fantasies. Thus far, they’d only been fantasies. As I’ve mentioned before, Richard might like the idea of blowjobs, but in practice he was too much of a hygiene freak. And if he was reluctant to fuck my face for hygiene reasons, there was no way in hell he’d ever fuck me in the ass, more’s the pity. Good thing I have such a vivid imagination...)

“Do you want me to fuck you more than anything?”

Danielle opened her mouth to eagerly answer ‘yes’, but hesitated, realising that that wasn’t the truth. “No, Master.” A huge smile spread across her face. “I want to obey you more than anything!”

“Good girl,” Master said delightedly. Clearly, that was the correct answer.

As Danielle gasped and shuddered from the intense arousal, trying not to move and disturb her Master’s legs, he continued to watch TV. Some minutes passed, with him using her as a footstool while apparently paying very little attention to her. For her part, Danielle didn’t even notice what he was watching. Consumed as she was with a fog of lust and submission, her mind wandered, vacant but for the mental images that kept drifting in and out of her head...

Finally, Master removed his legs from her back. “Get up,” he commanded.

Her mind snapped back to full awareness, as if jumping to attention. “Yes, Master!” she chirped, quickly getting to her feet and standing before him in what she hoped he’d think of as a good slave pose - feet apart, hands clasped behind her, back straight, head up.

He nodded, seeming impressed, and stood up, approaching her. “Stand still,” he said.

“Yes, Master.” Her placid, happy smile grew broader as he circled her, admiring her body. It felt good to be treated like this. Just a decorative object, an ornament, to be enjoyed by her owner.

Then he reached down and tickled her bare stomach, fingers dancing lightly around her belly button. She squealed and laughed, shaking and shuddering, eyes closing tightly. But she didn’t move. She didn’t try to avoid the tickles. She stood as still as she could, just as he’d told her to, and endured it without complaint.

After what could have been thirty seconds, but felt like thirty minutes, Master withdrew his hand and stepped back, looking very satisfied. Danielle’s giggles faded, her rapid breathing slowing as she gradually regained her composure, blinking away tears.

Master sat down again, getting out his phone. “I’m going to put on some music, and I’d like you to dance to it.”

“Yes, Master!”

He fumbled with the phone, and moments later ‘Superstition’ by Stevie Wonder started to play loudly. “Nice and sexy, slavegirl,” he told her. “But keep your clothes on.”

Danielle gave him her most sultry, seductive smile as she replied in a purr, “Yes, Master.” Moving slowly, sensually, in time with the music, she stood before him and started to run her hands over her body. Her feet flexed and pointed as she turned and shifted in place, her hips swaying. She stroked her bare belly, traced her fingers along her sides, caressed her boobs through her thin shirt, ran her hands through her avalanche of hair... and then did it all again in reverse as she worked her way back down, reaching her hips and thighs, teasing around the damp crotch of her chinos.

Through it all, she let soft moans escape her mouth, so turned on by her own alluring dancing, and by her Master’s exulting gaze. She felt so slutty. She felt so sexy. She felt so submissive. A gorgeous, dancing slavegirl - like one of those harem wives, who spent their days pleasing the husbands that owned them with erotic, sultry routines just like this one.

As Danielle’s hands reached her ass, groping it eagerly, she slowly turned on the spot, facing away from her Master, and bent over so that he could admire the view. She let her own hands move out of the way as he reached forwards and grasped one cheek, fondling it with enthusiasm. Then, not to leave the other cheek out, he gave it a hearty slap, sending a ripple of arousal through Danielle. She was so horny at this point, she was surprised she didn’t cum on impact. (She dismissed that thought as soon as it arrived - good slavegirls didn’t cum without permission. Master hadn’t even told her that, but she was sure it was true.)

“Thank you, Master,” she sighed. “Please, spank me again...”

He obliged, this time targeting the other cheek. Danielle cried out with (mild) pain and (overwhelming) pleasure. “Thank you, Master!” she said again.

“Turn around and give me a lap dance, slave.”

“Yes, Master!” Swivelling, she grinned at him and slowly clambered on top of him, still moving in time with the music. She straddled him, legs wrapped around his waist, chest in his face. His eyes were filled with lust as he enjoyed the sight of her tits, still clad in the thin crop top - her nipples were so hard by now, it was a wonder they hadn’t torn right through Johnny Thunders’ face. He ran his hands up and down her sides, making her shudder as she continued to sway and gyrate on his lap, her pelvis rubbing against his, feeling his hard wood through his jeans.

“You love being used by me,” Master told her. “You love being degraded by me. You love being treated like nothing more than a thing, a toy, a plaything for me to use.”

All true. She’d already been thinking those things, but now that Master had said them, they were set in stone.

“You love being mocked. You love being insulted. You love it when I call you names. When I’m mean to you, I’m showing you how much I like you. The meaner I am, the more you enjoy it. The ruder I am, the hornier you get.”

Danielle moaned ecstatically at this new truth.

“That’s right, my dumb slave,” Master sighed, breathing heavily from his own immense lust. “Such a horny idiot. Such a brainless plaything.”

A lazy smile spread across her face. Master was being so mean to her! He must have liked her so much...

(Another brief disclaimer: I, Alyssa, was fine with this, again. We’d done some vocal abuse before, but I found it hard to resist the impulse to fight back and give as good as I got. Danielle had no such urges! Although, I’d previously told him what I was and wasn’t OK with. He could call me a slave, or an object like a sex toy, all he liked - and I kinda liked the idea of being hypnotically dumbed down, so I didn’t mind being called stupid - but calling me a slut or a whore was off-limits.)

“You’re a stupid sex toy, aren’t you?” Master continued. “A worthless, brainless object. Good for nothing but serving your Master’s will. You can’t do anything else. You don’t want to do anything else. You’re just a fuck doll, who needs to be told what to do... Isn’t that right?”

“Yes, Master,” Danielle whimpered. It was as if she could feel her brain and her self-esteem shrinking with every word he spoke, getting rid of any possibility that she could be any more than a stupid, horny slave. It was a heavenly sensation.

Closing her eyes to endure the pulsating, all-pervading arousal, she let her mouth hang open as she kept writhing on top of him. She dimly realised that the song had finished, leaving the room silent except for her and her Master’s horny noises, and that she was no longer dancing but basically just dry-humping him, rubbing her crotch against his, thrusting her tits into his face. She was so close to the edge now. She was sure he was too.

“Get off me, and kneel down in front of me,” he grunted.

“Yes, Master,” she moaned, stopping mid-hump and complying without protest.

He shifted his lower body forwards and lay back in his seat. “Pull out my cock, and give me a handjob.”

Danielle didn’t need to be told twice. “Yes, Master!”

Within seconds, his cock was in her tender grasp, and she was stroking it delicately, her skilful fingers knowing just what to do - as if she’d done it a thousand times. Perhaps she had. She couldn’t remember. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was being a perfect slavegirl now, and in the future. And she seemed to be performing admirably, judging by how much Master was enjoying using her...

As worked up as he was, it wasn’t long before he came hard in her hand, coating her palm, her fingers, and even her wrist in sticky white semen. Even without experiencing her own release, it was still a moment of joy and bliss for her - she had made her Master cum. There was no better feeling than satisfying her owner, her controller, her living God.

“Good girl, Danielle,” Master sighed happily, making the slavegirl squirm and beam at him. “Go and clean yourself up, and then come back and kneel right there in the exact same place.”

“Yes, Master.”

A quick trip to the bathroom later, and Danielle was back kneeling before the man who was the centre of her universe. He too had cleaned up, using the box of tissues on the coffee table, and had tucked himself back into his pants. Sitting forwards in his seat, he rewarded Danielle for her service with headpats, making her sigh and wriggle.

“Tell me, Danielle, does the name ‘Alyssa’ mean anything to you?” he asked.

She didn’t have to think very long about her answer - her head was so empty, it wasn’t hard to find the few things she actually knew. “No, Master,” she soon replied, arching a mildly inquisitive eyebrow. “Should it?”

He grinned, obviously pleased with her answer. “No, no, you don’t need to know that name. At least, not yet.”

Danielle nodded, smiling complacently. Whether or not Master ever told her who this Alyssa person was didn’t bother her at all. If it mattered, he’d tell her when he was good and ready.

He licked his lips as he admired her kneeling slave pose, already looking aroused again so soon after he’d cum. “Danielle?”

“Yes, Master?” Her eyes widened a little, innocent and guileless, as she waited patiently for him to say whatever he was going to say.

“Staying in that pose, sleep.”

Her eyes rolling like marbles, Danielle’s head fell forwards, hanging in mid-air, held up by her body, which remained fixed in position.

***

“Now, let Danielle fade away for a minute. Let the dumb, submissive slavegirl retreat to the back of your mind, sleeping in your subconscious. The next time you awaken, you’ll be Alyssa again. All your memories will be restored - except any recollection of Danielle, or anything she did. Do you understand?”

“Yuhs, Mastuhr...”

“Good girl. And as Danielle goes away, her slave pose relaxes. And you can just let yourself sink sideways, and relax, and get comfortable...

“When you wake up, the effects of the collar will be reduced for you. You’ll find that you can do pretty much anything you like again - except take the collar off. And you’ll be more stubborn and cheeky than ever before. You’ll tease me, and mock me, and roll your eyes at me. Your banter level will be as high as it’s ever been. In short, you’ll be a total brat.

“But, when I say ‘switch’, you will become Danielle again. Alyssa’s mind will stop in its tracks. She’ll retreat back into your subconscious, hidden away and sleeping. And Danielle’s mind will take over. She’ll come to the front of your mind, and awaken in your place, just as clueless and horny and subservient as ever, ready to obey. And just like Alyssa doesn’t remember being Danielle, Danielle won’t remember being Alyssa. When I say ‘switch’ again, Danielle will turn back into Alyssa, who will have no clue what happened in the meantime.

“Do you understand?”

“Yees, Masteeer.”

“Good girl. Awakening as Alyssa once more, in five, four, three...”

***

I woke with a start, finding myself kneeling on the floor, slumped against the couch. The first thing I saw was Richard’s leg right in front of me, his foot nuzzled up to my legs. I looked up through bleary eyes, seeing him grinning down at me.

“Well, that face is never good,” I mumbled, smiling back at him.

He gave me a pout of mock offence. “What do you mean? This is my normal face!”

“Exactly.” Clambering slowly to my feet, a little unsteady on my legs, I picked up my glass of water and drank a big gulp. I tried to remember what I was just doing - how I’d ended up on the floor - but the last thing I remembered I was on the couch, counting my fingers at my boyfriend’s behest. But more must have happened. Apart from anything else, I could feel, and smell, a damp patch around my crotch.

Sitting back down, I gave Richard a mutinous glance. “So, are you gonna tell me what just happened? Clearly, some bullshit has gone down, courtesy of the infamous fuck hawk.” As he chuckled, I suddenly realised something. “Hey, I can swear at you again!” What a relief. I attempted to slap him on the arm, and was delighted to find that I could.

“Ow!” he laughed, shuffling away from me.

So the collar wasn’t working on me any more - but I could feel I was still wearing it. I went to take it off, but my fingers couldn’t find the buckle, scrabbling uselessly over the black leather. I snorted. “OK, so you’ve backed off with the collar control - but I can’t take it off? What’s the point of that?”

“Well, I thought you’d earned a little mercy,” he said matter-of-factly, though he still had that teasing smile. “But I didn’t want you to forget what a helpless slavegirl you are, and how much control I have over you...”

I tried to hide the ripple of lust I felt hearing that. “Y-yeah, like you’d ever let me forget it!”

Patting the front of my chinos, I got to my feet. “Anyway, I at least need to take these off - they need washing! I’ll stick something else on and come right back...”

“OK, sure,” Richard said blithely, watching as I strode towards the doorway. But just as I got there, he casually called out, “Switch.”

It wasn’t like the usual freeze or bound triggers - my body didn’t stop where it was, it kept going a few more steps. But my mind did. It froze, and then vanished, disappearing just as much as it did when he turned me into a zombie. But this time, another mind took its place. After no more than two seconds, during which my body kept plodding forwards and my eyes rolled in their sockets, Danielle blinked awake. Frowning with confusion, she turned back to face her Master.

She giggled at the sight of his gleeful grin. “What am I doing over here, Master?”

“What’s the last thing you remember, Danielle?”

“I was kneeling in front of you, Master,” she answered, with that empty, happy smile of subservience spreading across her face again.

“Did you like that?” he said, his voice deeper now, more seductive than before. Mmm, it was so sexy...

She nodded eagerly, biting her lip. “Oh, yes, Master. It felt so good...” Her arousal was building quickly again - just as it should. Being a slave turned her on - so, so much.

He smiled wickedly. “Then come and kneel before me again, slave.”

She almost jumped for joy. “Yes, Master!” Darting back across the room, she angled herself towards Master and dropped to her knees once more, palms up on her thighs, back arched, head gazing up at him. Ready to listen. Ready to serve. Ready to obey.

He rewarded her with a “Good girl,” making her gasp and moan. But she held her position like the good slavegirl she knew she was.

“Switch.”

Danielle’s joyful smile faded slowly as her eyelids flickered.

A second later I blinked awake, and snorted with surprise when I noticed I was back on the floor - this time kneeling in a ridiculously submissive pose. And I was twice as horny as before. And, I was still wearing the stained chinos!

“Dude,” I snapped. “What the fuck? Why am I back here?”

He shrugged, doing his best to look innocent (not very successfully). “How should I know?”

“If anyone would, you would!” I got to my feet and immediately set off in the direction of the door again. “I was just trying to change my pants, for fuck’s -”

“Switch.”

“Saaayyy...” my body droned, as it plodded slowly to a halt, cross-eyed and blank. The next second, Danielle jerked back to full awareness. Shaking her head, speechless with astonishment, she swivelled to face her Master again. “I... how did I...” she mumbled. Her tiny brain couldn’t understand how she’d once again gone from kneeling before her owner to standing in the doorway across the room. She couldn’t figure out what happened.

He smiled patiently back at her. “Don’t worry about it right now, Danielle. You don’t need to worry about how you got there.”

“Yes, Master.” Danielle stopped worrying about it. She still had no idea what happened, but if Master had told her not to concern herself with it, then she clearly didn’t need to know.

He pointed to the place on the carpet where she had knelt just a moment ago. “Back here now, slave,” he said calmly.

“Yes, Master!” She ran back over to the spot and dropped to her knees once again. As soon as she got there she felt a horny surge, her body rewarding her for being such a good slave.

“Good girl.” The arousal increased - she couldn’t help but let out a moan. “Tell me that you’re my hypnotised slavegirl.”

“I’m your hypnotised slavegirl, Master,” she sighed, getting even wetter as she said those words. She didn’t know what ‘hypnotised’ meant, but for some reason she liked the sound of it.

“Very good girl.”

“Uhh...”

“Say it three more times.”

“I-I’m your hypnotised slavegirl, Master. I’m your hypnotised slavegirl, Master. I’m your hypnotised sl-”

“Switch.”

“Laayyy...” Once my eyes came back under my control, I woke up, instantly annoyed. I was back kneeling on the damn floor again!

As Richard spluttered with laughter, I glared at him. “For fuck’s sake, dude - this isn’t funny! I just wanna change out of these dirty, smelly pants! Why won’t you let me?”

“Because it’s hilarious!”

Fuming, I got up again and marched across the room. As I approached the doorway, I turned to stare balefully back at him, daring him to do something to stop me from leaving.

He just sat there looking back at me, a badly-faked innocent smile plastered on his face.

“Go on,” I goaded him. “Do it - I fucking dare you!” (Probably shouldn’t have said that, AJ, you dumbass...) “Use one of your stupid little trig-”

“Switch!”

“Guh...” As soon as she woke up, Danielle noticed she was across the room again. Not bothering to figure out why this time, she quickly returned to what she was coming to think of as her special spot. The hornier she got, the more difficult it was to stay in her slave pose and not wriggle and writhe on the floor - but she did her best.

“Good girl.” She moaned happily at the praise. He held out his hand, index finger extended towards her face. “Suck my finger, slave.”

“Yes, Master,” she gasped, admiring the finger with rapturous joy. She quickly enveloped it in her mouth, starting to slide up and down its length.

“And as you suck it - as you slide your mouth up and down - you can feel it in your pussy, thrusting in time with you...”

The slavegirl made a muffled grunt, eyes wide as she immediately felt the phantom digit probing her slit. She kept sucking the finger with mounting enthusiasm, feeling it fuck her as she did.

“That’s right, Danielle,” Master sighed happily. “Such a dumb plaything. Such a hot, horny slavegirl. Such a brainless fuck toy. This is all you’re good for. Just fucking, and sucking, and serving, and obeying... Just an oversexed object. Just a worthless slave...”

The finger in her mouth, fucking her face... The finger in her snatch, fucking her no less hard despite existing only in her mind... The kind, cruel words... It was all taking her right to the brink.

But of course, she couldn’t go over the edge. She wouldn’t. She didn’t even want to.

“Good slaves don’t cum, Danielle,” Master told her. “Not until they’re told to. Not until their Master allows them.”

Well, there it was - proof that she had been right. Master had said it now. It was the truth. It was her truth, ironclad and unyielding.

“Very good girl,” he said, finally pulling his finger free, leaving her moaning open-mouthed, eyes shut, sweat pouring down her face, hair plastered to her skin. “Have a drink of water and calm yourself down.”

“Yes, Master,” Danielle croaked. Taking the half-full glass from the coffee table - which she’d never noticed before, but assumed Master must have thoughtfully provided for her - she gulped down much of what was left.

Master took the glass from her, patting her on her sticky head. “Now, Danielle, I’m going to tell you about Alyssa. You still don’t know who that is, do you?”

“No, Master.”

“Alyssa is my girlfriend. She likes being controlled by me, too - but she also likes making it hard for me. She likes being a brat, and protesting, and taking the piss out of me.” He grinned. “And, honestly, I love that about her.”

Danielle giggled. She could tell from Master’s tone that he clearly loved this Alyssa very much. She was so happy for him!

“But sometimes, I just want things to be easy, y’know?” he chuckled. “Sometimes, I just want to make her submit. She wants that too - she just rarely admits it, because it’s more fun not to. So today, I took control of her mind, and I locked away all her memories - every trace of who she is...”

Danielle’s mouth hung open - partly from exhaustion after the intense edging session, and partly from amazement at her Master’s powers.

He smiled maliciously. “And that made room in her head for me to make someone new, with no memories, no personality of her own. Someone who’d be eager to obey me, and not brat and snark and rebel all the time. So I created this new slavegirl persona for her. Isn’t that cool, Danielle?”

“It’s incredible, Master,” she replied, awestruck.

“And can you guess what I named this slavegirl persona?”

She thought for a good long moment, but her slow, dim brain came up with nothing. “No, Master...”

He winked. “I named her ‘Danielle’.”

Danielle gaped back at him for a few seconds, recognising her own name but still struggling to put the pieces together. Finally, it all clicked. “Oh! So... I was Alyssa?”

“That’s right! Good girl,” he said proudly, patting her head again as she mewled. “Or, more accurately, your body was hers. And she’s still in there, tucked away right at the back. She doesn’t even know you exist - not yet! And I can bring her back any time I want - I can switch you both around at will.”

Danielle’s eyes widened as she considered this. Everything was finally making sense! Of course she didn’t remember anything before today - she hadn’t even existed before today! Before that, she was Alyssa. But now they were both in the same body. And Master got to play with them both. That was so hot...

And now, she also knew that the girl Master had been describing so adoringly was in fact her. Or at least, an alternate version of her. And though she didn’t at all mind the idea of Master having a girlfriend that wasn’t her, whom he loved - she loved him as his slave, his property, but she didn’t need to be loved by him in return - it still moved her to know that her Master’s girlfriend was her body’s original occupant. Which meant that Master had looked at her with adoring eyes, kissed her lips, told her that he loved her... It made her heart swell with joy.

She realised something else. “So, Master - if I don’t remember what happens when Alyssa’s awake... does that mean she doesn’t remember what happens when I’m awake?”

“Exactly!”

Danielle gave him a naughty smile. “And you’ve been using me to mess with her, haven’t you? Making her move around the room without knowing what happened, like you did with me?”

He beamed. “See, I knew you’d get it eventually! You’re stupid, but not that stupid - just enough brainpower to work that out!”

She wriggled beneath his hand (which he’d been resting on top of her head since he’d given her headpats), enjoying the cruel praise.

“But now, you and I are gonna have some fun playing with her together. D’you like the sound of that, Danielle?”

She thought about it. A smart, bratty version of herself, who refused to admit she was just as much of a willing slavegirl? Whom Danielle could help their Master to tease, and toy with, and frustrate?

Danielle wouldn’t say no, even if she could.

***

“Now, in a moment I’m going to wake Alyssa up. And when you awaken, AJ, you’ll be back to your normal self. And you’ll remember struggling to go and change your pants, and decide there’s no point trying, because I’ll just stop you again. And the ‘switch’ trigger will still work - when I say it, your mind sleeps, and Danielle’s takes over.

“But Danielle will still be awake and aware while you’re in control, Alyssa. She’ll sit in the back of your mind like normal, but she’ll be awake and aware of everything happening to you... to her... to both of you. And I can talk to Danielle. And when I do, Alyssa, your mind goes blank while Danielle and I talk to each other. I can ask her questions, and she can answer. I can give her orders, and she can acknowledge them. Once we’re done talking, after a few seconds, Alyssa’s mind will wake up again, and not notice any time has passed.

“And Danielle will act on the orders I’ve given her. She’ll control your shared body, and do whatever I told her, while Alyssa is awake. And Alyssa, you won’t notice what Danielle is doing. It won’t register in your mind. For example, if you’re sitting with your hands in your lap, and I tell Danielle to put her hands on her head, Alyssa will still think her hands are in her lap. At least, until I tell you otherwise, AJ. When I point out what you’re doing - what Danielle’s making you do - you’ll notice it, and you won’t know why you’re doing it, or how long you’ve been doing it for.

“Do you understand?”

“Yesss, Master.”

“Very good girl. Or should I say, good girls...”

***

Still kneeling in the slave pose, I woke up. Unbeknownst to me, so did Danielle.

Wiping yet more drool from my mouth, I stared disdainfully at my stained chinos, and then at my boyfriend. “You’re never gonna let me take these off, are you?”

“I might eventually,” he chuckled, “but the temptation to stop you from doing it is just too great...”

“Assface.” Clambering off the carpet, I sat on the other end of the couch from him, unconsciously giving my crotch a rub - and then realising what I’d done when my fingers met damp fabric. Scrunching up my face in disgust, I wiped my hand on the thigh of my chinos (after all, it wasn’t as if they could get much dirtier at this point.)

Noticing Richard’s smug face, I glared at him. “Enjoying yourself?”

“Immensely,” he chuckled, and then, before I could speak again, “Danielle?”

My mind faded away before I had time to wonder who the hell Danielle was. The slavegirl sat up straight at attention, eyes wide. “Yes, Master?”

He was once again wearing that devious grin I have nightmares about. (I don’t really, but dramatic licence...) “Any time Alyssa speaks, you’ll add a submissive phrase after she finishes her sentence,” he said with a snigger. “Something along the lines of, ‘I’m your hypnotised slave’, ‘I’m an obedient plaything’, that kind of thing - have fun with it.”

“Yes, Master,” Danielle said with a nod and a grin, eager to start messing with me. She and Richard were going to make a fearsome combination.

A couple of seconds Danielle’s dopey smile faded away as my mind reasserted itself, oblivious to their conspiratorial chat. As far as I was concerned, he’d just said ‘immensely’, and I was preparing a comeback.

“You’re such a sadist,” I said with an ironic grin. “I must’ve been crazy to let you get your hooks in my brain.”

“I’m your mind-controlled slave,” Danielle added, the grin seamlessly morphing into a dreamy, vacant smile.

“Well, you seem to be enjoying it too!” he remarked, raising an eyebrow. “Rather a lot, apparently!”

“That’s neither here nor there,” I insisted, giggling in the knowledge that whatever argument I was trying to formulate had more holes in it than a colander. “The point is that you are a jerk who takes far too much pleasure in manipulating and messing with your poor, helpless girlfriend.”

“My mind is weak, and my pussy is wet,” Danielle interjected, moaning slightly mid-sentence, her eyes rolling a little from a surge of arousal.

“Alright, well, if you’re tired of being messed with, we can take a little break,” he suggested.

I nodded, relieved. “Yes, please. I could use some time to try and regain some dignity!”

“I’m your stupid, horny plaything.” Danielle smiled slyly at her Master, who chuckled at her immediate effort to undermine my desire for dignity. Traitorous bitch!

“OK, let’s chill out and watch TV for a bit, then,” he suggested. “Maybe we can carry on later, if you’re up to it...”

“Sure, maybe... if I’ve decided you deserve it!” I winked at him.

“Please use me and punish me, Master,” Danielle pleaded meekly, bowing her (or, I guess, our) head to him in supplication. “I need to be shown my place!”

Picking up the remote, Richard switched on the television and started flicking through the channels. “What shall we watch?”

“I don’t care, you choose,” I replied blithely, sinking back into my seat. “Just no sci-fi nonsense - I’ve had my brain scrambled enough for one night!”

“Can’t resist,” Danielle murmured, pouting coyly at her Master. “Must obey.”

Opening Netflix, Richard put on an episode of Brooklyn Nine-Nine - one of the few shows we loved pretty much equally. “Oh, Danielle,” he said nonchalantly, not even looking away from the screen. “Patrol the edges of the living room. Keep walking round and round until I tell you to stop.”

If I had been aware of him giving such an absurd command, I’d have given him no end of grief about it. Seriously, where the fuck did he even get that from? But Danielle didn’t try, even for a second, to puzzle out the meaning behind the order. She just said, “Yes Master!” cheerily, got up, and started dutifully marching around the perimeter of the room, hands clasped behind her back, looking around intently, acting for all the world as if she was a sentry guarding a castle.

This is what’s so incredible about the mind, and the imagination - or, at least, my mind and imagination. Because as far as I was concerned, I was still slumped on the couch watching Jake Peralta make five suspects in a line-up sing ‘I Want It That Way’. But in actual fact, I could only see the screen clearly part of the time, as my patrol took me round and round the room - the rest of the time I was just remembering the episode from the previous four hundred times I’d watched it. (I may be rounding down a bit.) In fact, Richard wasn’t seeing it all properly either, because every so often I’d walk in front of the TV. He was trying to hide his amusement, but the more times I passed by him, the wider his smirk grew.

I frowned at him as I crossed in front of the screen for about the ninth time. “What’s so funny?”

He shrugged. “The show. What else?”

“No, that’s not your ‘funny TV show’ smile - it’s your ‘I’m screwing with Alyssa’ smile.”

“You can really tell the difference?” he laughed.

I sighed at him, though by now I was at the back of the room and couldn’t even see his face any more. “Why don’t we skip to the part where you tell me what you’ve done?”

“Alright.” He sat up straight and paused the episode. “What d’you think you’re doing right now?”

I narrowed my eyes, 90% sure of the answer but also suspecting subterfuge. “Sitting here watching TV,” I said warily.

“Hmm,” he said in a high-pitched hum, clearly struggling not to laugh. “Not quite! You seem to be patrolling the room like a security guard.”

I blinked, stopping in my tracks - as he’d told me what I was doing, I’d suddenly noticed it myself. I threw up my hands in exasperation. “What the fuck! How long have I been doing that?”

“Not sure,” he said with a shrug, still grinning like the fucking Joker. “A few minutes, maybe...”

“Of all the dumb shit to make me do,” I groaned, crossing the room and sitting back down again. “Walking around the room in circles isn’t even sexy!”

“It is if you don’t know you’re doing it. And it is because it’s you doing it.” He winked.

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t hide my smile. “You are, without a doubt, the world’s biggest dork.”

He grinned. “And Danielle, what do you think of me?”

“You’re the sexiest man in the world, Master,” she blurted eagerly, almost desperately. “I want you to hold me down and fuck me ’til I scream...”

Even Richard blushed at that.

I smirked. “What? Embarrassed to be the world’s biggest dork? I know I would be. Must be why they don’t hold an awards ceremony for that...”

“Danielle,” he interrupted, whiting out my snarky thoughts again as my submissive other self emerged. “In a moment I’m going to put on some more music, and you’re going to perform a very sexy striptease. Alyssa will think she’s watching Brooklyn Nine-Nine again until I turn the music off - and then she’ll realise. But if I put the song back on again, you’ll dance again, and Alyssa will drift away until the next time the music stops, awakening fully aware of what she was doing once more. Do you understand?”

Though she was just a dim, slow-witted slavegirl, Danielle soaked up her Master’s instructions like a sponge. “Yes, Master,” she nodded, smiling wickedly at the thought of the prank she was about to play on me.

“OK, if you’re done taking the piss, shall I press play?” Richard asked me, brandishing the TV remote with one hand. He held his phone in the other, with Spotify cued up, but I didn’t notice that.

I sniggered. “Well, I’m never done taking the piss out of you, but sure.”

As I settled back in my seat, Richard pressed play - but on his phone, not the remote. ‘Sexbomb’ by Tom Jones blared out, and Danielle immediately leapt to her feet and moved in front of her Master, giving a provocative hair flick, her eyes wide and filled with lust. Once more she began to sway and stroke herself in time with the music, but faster than earlier to match the faster beat. Every move she made stoked the fires of arousal within her, bringing her rocketing back towards the edge. Undoing the buttons of her chinos, she eased them over her hips, dropping them to her ankles and kicking them aside.

With her bright pink panties now on proud display, Danielle turned on the spot and shook her butt enthusiastically in Master’s direction. She was rewarded with a grope and a slap, making her gasp with pleasure. Humming along in time with the music, Richard pressed pause just as she was bending over to show off her ass, halting the song in the middle of “I’m your main target, come and help me ignite...”

I came to my senses to find myself staring at the carpet with my rear in the air, blushing as I suddenly realised that I had been dancing sexily for the last minute rather than watching Brooklyn Nine-Nine. Spinning around, I stared open-mouthed at my boyfriend. “Whuh... you... I was just...” I stammered.

“Yes you were,” he chuckled, licking his lips as his eyes continued to roam over my figure. “Quite eagerly, in fact.”

I let out a disbelieving laugh, covering my face with one hand. “Well, at least I finally got those pants off!” I started to walk back to my seat - but before I could reach it, Richard pressed play.

“Lovestruck, holding you tight - hold me tight, darlin’!”

Her head snapping around to face Master, Danielle grinned and put one leg up on the couch, as she ran her hands up her body, sliding them up the front of her shirt. Teasing him for a few seconds by lifting the bottom edge of the garment up and down, she finally pulled it up and over her tender breasts, and then slid it off over her head, throwing it behind the couch.

Running her right hand through her wild hair, she caressed her pussy with the other, through the soaked panties - the only remaining piece of clothing on her body, aside from the collar. Her eyes closed, she moaned loudly, lifting her left hand to her open mouth and tracing her lips, leaving them slick and glossy from the juices on her fingertips. She grasped a handful of her own hair with her right hand, thrusting her hips in Master’s direction, once, twice, three times...

“You can make me feel the real deal...”

Pause. My eyes flickered open, wide and bewildered, as I took in the position I was in - and how incredibly fucking turned on I was. As I let my arms drop to my sides, memories of the last minute began to flow back into my mind. “Uhhhh... what the fuck?”

Richard was grinning lecherously at me. “Mmm, you make such a good stripper, babe.”

For some reason, that dubious compliment just made me even hotter. “I - I’m not a stri-stripper... At least, not normally!” My clit throbbed, and I bit my lip and closed my eyes, rubbing my crotch, no longer particularly bothered by the dampness.

“I quite like this suggestion, I’ve got to say,” Richard smirked. “Having you as my stripper-bot, activated whenever I play music to you...”

I opened my eyes, realising - remembering - that he was triggering my slutty dancing through music. Maybe I could get to his phone before he - but no, he already had it in his hand, and seemed to be reaching for the play button. “W-wait,” I spluttered, “don’t press -”

“And I can give it to you any time because you’re mine!”

Danielle strutted in front of Master, hooking her thumbs under her panties and tugging them down. She bent down, giving him a sideways view of her bare ass, and stepped out of the underwear. Straightening up, she pulled on the panties like a catapult, firing it to the very back of the room. Swerving and gyrating, hands exploring her bare flesh, breathing deeply with desire, she slowly approached Master and raised a foot towards his couch cushion, preparing to straddle him once more...

The song ended. Gasping with surprise and arousal, I lowered my foot and stepped back, instinctively covering my boobs and pussy with my hands, unable to meet my boyfriend’s eye.

“Enjoy that?” he teased.

“I... you... that... uhhhh... that was mean,” I babbled, feeling my face burn self-consciously. “Making me dance for you like that... I mean, it’s not like I wouldn’t - I have before - but not hypnotically... I, uh...” I made more quiet noises, but they were the verbal equivalent of keysmashing.

“Well, it’s OK, because it wasn’t you dancing,” Richard said matter-of-factly.

I stared at him, nonplussed, not managing to articulate a more eloquent response than “Huh?”

He smiled enigmatically, patting the couch cushion on which I’d been sitting. But before I could reach it, he said, “Danielle, kneel, and stay in position until I say otherwise.”

“Yes, Master!” she said eagerly, falling to her knees in her special spot again. Back arched, palms up on her thighs, smiling beatifically up at her owner.

That smile faded as I came to my senses once more. “The fuck am I doing down here?” I mumbled, gazing down at my submissive pose - which, I found, I couldn’t move out of. My head was the only part of me that did feel mobile. In the moment, my mind went to the good old ‘bound’ trigger, and as we all know, my pussy is a big fan of that one. “Guhhh...!” Richard reached out and patted me on the head, which really didn’t help matters.

“Does the name ‘Danielle’ mean anything to you, AJ?” he asked innocently.

I thought for a minute. “Uh... Danielle Steel? Danielle Panabaker from The Flash?” I paused. “That’s all I’ve got.”

“Well, allow me to introduce you to another one,” he said, grinning eagerly. He’d leaned forwards in his seat now, looking more excited and horny than ever (which I didn’t think possible until then). As he spoke, he segued into his hypno-voice, which drifted past both my mind and (I think) Danielle’s, into our subconscious. (Wow, I’ve really started thinking of my body and mind as ours, now...)

“From now on, when I speak to Danielle, Alyssa will know it’s happened,” he said silkily. “In the moment, she will go blank and let Danielle take over, just like before - but when she wakes up, she will remember everything Danielle and I just said...”

I gazed vacantly at him for a few more moments as the suggestion sank into my brain. Shaking my head slightly, I gave a long-suffering sigh. “So, are you gonna let me up off the floor or wha-”

“Danielle,” he interrupted, “why don’t you introduce yourself to Alyssa? Tell her who you are, and a little bit about yourself.”

“Yes, Master.” Staring out in front of her, she said brightly, “Hi Alyssa, I’m Danielle! I’m Master’s new slavegirl. I guess we kinda... share a body,” she giggled. “Or, uh, I used to be you, I think! But Master made me, out of you, after he made you forget who you were... and now we’re both in here together! Isn’t that fun?”

Her naughty smile lingered for a few more seconds, gradually fading away as I woke up. My jaw dropped. My eyebrows rocketed up. I felt a biiig surge from my pussy.

“Ohhhh, fuck,” I whimpered, staring at Richard with wide eyes. “Yuh - you, you made a... a split persona? A slavegirl persona?!”

“Yep,” he said simply, his monosyllabic response belying the ravenous desire on his face. “And any command I give her, you have to follow too...”

I didn’t know how to respond to that. My mouth hung agape - whether from utter astonishment or overwhelming horniness, I’m still not sure. I watched him pick up the leash (which, it turns out, he’d been hiding under his own leg the whole time) and get to his feet. He approached me and bent down, holding out the end of the long black leather strip. Realising what he was about to do, I tried to obstruct his access to my collar the only way I could, by lowering my chin to partially cover it.

He tutted. “Danielle, present your neck to me so I can attach this.”

“Yes, Master!” She eagerly did as he asked, and he clipped the end of the leash to my collar once again. I was absolutely powerless to stop him.

He caressed my hair tenderly, clearly very amused by my helplessness. “You good, AJ?”

“Ah dah - ub... buh... huh,” I verbal-keysmashed in response, provoking uproarious laughter from Master Fuck Hawk as I lowered my blushing face.

“Danielle, when I pull on the leash, you will crawl in the direction I lead you. The rest of the time, you won’t move unless I tell you otherwise - it’ll be like you’re frozen from the neck down.”

“Yes, Master...”

Standing up straight, he started to walk away, giving the leash an experimental tug. I fell forwards onto hands and knees and began to crawl after him, Danielle puppeteering my limbs as I dazedly let it happen. He slowly led me across the room, towards the doorway into the corridor leading to our bedroom.

Though I had full control of my mouth, I was uncharacteristically silent, apart from infrequent moans and whimpers. There was no brattiness left in me - I was too stupefied, too flustered, too aroused, to marshal even the slightest bit of resistance against Richard’s will. Given time, I’m sure I would have... but right then I was too dominated, too horny, too humiliated, to form enough coherent thoughts.

Randomly, my mind wandered back to the night he’d hypnotised me for the first time, all those months ago. It felt like years back now. How far we’d both come. He’d transformed from the awkward nerd who tried to hide his hypnosis kink from his girlfriend, to this confident, seemingly irresistible figure now leading me across our apartment on a leash. And me? A year ago I’d have said without a shadow of doubt that I was the dominant partner in our relationship, in spite of my love of being tied up. But months of being hypnotically manipulated, controlled and restrained had showed me how much more I enjoyed being a sub - if an outrageously bratty sub, most of the time!

My musings were interrupted when he slowed to a halt in the corridor, as did I, panting like a bitch in heat. (Being on all fours really added to the canine resemblance.) He turned and crouched down, holding out his end of the leash towards my face. “Left my phone,” he explained carelessly. “Danielle, hold this in your mouth until I take it back again.”

“Yes, Master.” Danielle opened her mouth, and Richard tucked the handle between our teeth, which bit the soft leather. He trotted back to the living room, leaving me on my hands and knees, effectively gagged by the leash, like a horse with a bit. So much for having control of my mouth...

He took his sweet time coming back, clearly enjoying the thought of me being stuck in the hallway, stewing in my submissive juices (pretty much literally, at this point - my pussy was dripping on the carpet below me). When he finally did reappear, he held up his phone and snapped a few photos of me from different angles. (They’re fucking hot pics, if I do say so myself.) With the encouragement of my throbbing clit, I made more incomprehensible noises through my makeshift gag.

He slipped the handle out of my mouth - it came out easily, Danielle releasing her grip as soon as his fingers reached it - and wiped the drool-covered leather on my face. I didn’t even try to avoid it. Then he led me back to our bedroom, perching on the edge of the bed. Halting my crawling advance at his feet, I stared up into his eyes through strands of my messy hair, finding myself as captivated as ever by his entrancing stare.

Waves of pleasure passed through me with every heartbeat, relaxing my mind and exciting my body more and more. Fuck, I felt so good. I felt like I could sink right into the soft carpet beneath me, and just keep going until it swallows me up - at which point, trapped as I would be within the earth’s unrelenting embrace, I’d probably cum (if I was even allowed to).

This was where we’d always been heading, I realised. The culmination of eight months of hypnotic conditioning and slave training, from my discovery of his kink and persuading him that we could explore it together, to the moment of my complete submission.

It was heaven.

“Master...” I whispered.

Frowning, clearly assuming Danielle had spoken unprompted but uncertain how or why, he slipped off the edge of the bed and crouched down to hear me better. “Yes, my love?”

I gave him a naughty smile. “Aren’t you glad I talked you into this?”

He beamed broadly, and the sight of it made me feel, impossibly, even better. I’d done it, I was certain. I’d given up all control to him. I’d proven to him, and myself, that I was his slave, completely and totally. There were no further Rubicons to cross.

I was wrong. He still had one more challenge for me - one more way to display his absolute power.

“Danielle, kneel back up again,” he ordered as he straightened up again.

“Yes, Master,” my alter-ego said breathlessly, sinking back into her favourite slave pose.

“Alyssa, d’you remember a few weeks back, when we were talking about mental bondage?”

I blinked, trying to dispel enough of the horny fog to think back to our conversation. When did he mean? A few weeks ago - before New Year? Before Christmas?

“You mentioned to me that there was one thing I’d never taken away from you, that you wouldn’t mind trying. Do you remember that?” He smiled fiendishly.

My eyes widened as I recalled the conversation he was referring to. Anticipating what he was about to do, I inhaled deeply.

“Breathing, bound.”

Fuckety fuck... I’ve had months and months to think about how to write this, and I still don’t quite know how to describe it. It was less like I couldn’t breathe, more like my body couldn’t remember how to. My mouth and lungs couldn’t figure out how to let out the breath I’d just taken in, or take in any more air. My chest seemed to lock up, unable to contract or expand. I stared up at Richard helplessly as he moaned softly at the sight of me, rubbing his crotch through his jeans.

Honestly, had I not still been locked in that slave pose, I’d have been touching myself too. I hadn’t thought I could feel more dominated, more totally controlled... but now, my incredible, powerful boyfriend had literally taken my breath away.

Just as my mouth began to rapidly flip open and shut - some instinctive attempt to try and take in air, to no avail - he said, “Breathing, release.” I breathed in quickly and deeply, and the air felt so good flowing into my body.

But before I could get used to breathing again... “Breathing bound.” Unprepared this time, I was mid-exhalation, leaving far less air inside me than there was last time. I shot him a panicked look, my jaw already starting to flap like a fish’s mouth.

He knelt down on one knee in front of me, staring into my eyes. “You alright, AJ?”

I shook my head weakly, my vision starting to blur.

“What’s the matter?”

“C... c... c’n br’th,” I managed to gasp. My eyes started to roll. My head started to loll. My rigid posture slumped. My chest was on fire. So was my pussy.

Reaching out and supporting my head with one hand, he finally took mercy and said, “Breathing, release.” Inhaling has never felt so good in my whole damn life.

I gazed at him through flickering eyelids. He wore a concerned look, fearing he might’ve pushed me too hard. “Are you OK?” he asked tentatively. “Do you want to -”

“Liiime,” I sighed, a lazy grin spreading across my face. “That was fuckin’ awwwwesome...”

He laughed. “Danielle - slave pose.”

“Yes, Master,” she mumbled exhaustedly, straightening our posture once more.

“AJ, are you sure you’re alright? Do you want to carry on, or take a break?”

I gave him my most mischievous smile. “I want to suck your cock.”

He stared at me thoughtfully for a long moment. Then, at last, with a smile - “Fine. Let’s do it.”

My eyes lit up triumphantly. His obsession with cleanliness had finally lost the war with his desire to fuck my face!

Now might be a good time to explain that I’d already worn him down on the subject of oral sex - me performing it on him, anyway. He’d always liked the idea of it, but his hygiene fixation had made it difficult for him to comprehend actually doing it. He couldn’t stand the idea of potentially kissing me afterwards and getting his own cum in his mouth. So we’d agreed that I’d give him blowjobs, but I’d have to brush my teeth immediately after. This arrangement meant that it’d work best to save it right until the end of the night - me darting off to the bathroom to rinse my mouth out would kill the vibe a little. And we hadn’t actually done it yet...

The wait was destined to last only a little longer. “Not yet, though,” Richard decided. “First - Danielle, get on the bed and lie flat on your back.”

“Yes, Master!”

He watched intently as she - we - did as he’d commanded. “Danielle, put your arms up above your head and spread your legs, like your wrists and ankles have been tied up.”

“Yes, Master...” Danielle sounded as excited by this as I was.

Studying my spread-eagled, naked, helpless body, he pulled his jeans down in one swift movement, his cock springing free. I watched, mewling with desire, as he practically tore his T-shirt off over his head and clambered over me.

“Danielle, I’m going to count down from five,” he growled, so aroused now that his voice had dropped to its lowest pitch. “With each number I say, you’ll switch between breathing and intense arousal. So when I say ‘five’, you’ll stop breathing, but you’ll feel a huge horny surge, bringing you right to the brink. And when I say ‘four’, you’ll be able to breathe again, and the arousal will fade - but only a little. When I reach ‘zero’, you will cum, long and hard. Do you understand?”

Eyes wide with awe and anticipation, Danielle whispered, “Yes, Mast-uhhh!”

Mid-word, he’d quickly lowered his slender frame onto us and inserted his erect cock into our pussy. One of his hands seized our bound wrist; the other grabbed our ass, pulling it up from the bed slightly, pushing himself deeper into us. Our eyes met. Our sweat-soaked foreheads touched. We were breathing in and out heavily, exhaling right into each other’s faces.

He slowly, tenderly, pulled out until just his tip was still inside us. “Ohhhh,” I moaned at the top of my voice. I took a deep breath in.

“Five,” he said, and thrust back down.

I’m surprised our eyes didn’t pop out. I threw our head back, screaming soundlessly as our breath failed us, as Richard speared us, as our clit gave an almighty thrum... (My eyes, my head, my clit! Damn it, I’ve lapsed into saying ‘we’, ‘us’ and ‘ours’ again. So hard to think of my body and its various parts as mine when I’m sharing them with Danielle...)

“Four.”

I gulped air like I was drinking it, still so turned on, though not as close to the edge as I was a second ago. (The difference was minimal, to be honest - I was at 9 out of 10 rather than 9.5.) I blurted out a hysterical laugh, which turned into a yelp as he thrust within me.

“Three.”

His eyes glinted maliciously as I lost my breathing again, gazing helplessly up at him as our crotches ploughed into each other for all they were worth, hips banging against each other. (Now I was at about 9.7, for the record.) His face was still so near... I felt so hot for him, the man who controlled me, the man I loved... His lips were an inch from mine, and it wasn’t like I was using my mouth for much else right now... I started making out with him with all the passion and force I could muster, and he responded in kind.

As our embrace went on longer and longer, my head started pounding, blood rushing in my ears. I ignored it, wanting to keep kissing and fucking my boyfriend for as long as I could. I probably would’ve passed out if Richard hadn’t broken off the kiss long enough to blurt, “Two!”

I roared with combined relief and frustration as I practically sucked in all the air in the room - and then immediately resumed making out with Richard, who continued to move inside me. (9.4...)

Finally he drew back, pulling out of me completely, causing each of us to grunt with a characteristic lack of dignity. “Danielle, kneel on the floor again,” he commanded, perching back on the edge of the bed.

“Yes, Master,” Danielle whimpered, managing to scramble off the bed and onto the floor despite the lack of energy in our limbs. She crawled back round and knelt before him, eyes fixed on his erect cock.

“Tell me you’re my slave, and you will obey,” he gasped, unable to drag his own eyes away from our gorgeous body. (My body. Damn it!)

“I am your slave, Master. I will obey...” I don’t even know which one of us said that.

He spread his legs wide. “Then what are you waiting for, slave?” he laughed softly. “Give me a blowjob.”

“Yes, Master!”

And I scooted forwards on my knees - showing a flagrant disregard for the risks of carpet-burn - and enveloped his cock in my wide, drooling mouth, taking it all the way to the back of my throat. My chin nestled into his balls. His pubes tickled my nostrils.

I drew back, letting my wet lips slide along his shaft, my tongue slipping out to caress it as it passed by. Then forwards I went again, slowly, tenderly lavishing my affections upon him. “Ohhhh, fu-uck,” he blurted from above me.

Again and again I moved my head back and forth, ever-so-slightly picking up the pace each time. With one of my hands grasping his thigh to balance me, the other drifted down to my soaking pussy and began rubbing furiously.

Disgorging his cock with a wet pop, I took the opportunity to inhale deeply - and that was when he cried, “One!” As I stared up at him with wide eyes, mouth flapping uselessly for air, finger-fucking myself almost to the point of madness (at 9.9 now), he seized me by the hair and pulled me forwards, burying his cock deep in my face.

It was the hottest moment of my life. I had a slavegirl inside my brain, overriding my body so she could obey her Master’s degrading wishes. I couldn’t breathe - but my mouth was so full, and my boyfriend was fucking my face with such lustre, that I probably wouldn’t have been able to anyway. His hand was grasping my vast head of hair, forcing me forwards, preventing me from breaking free even if I wanted to. Four of my own fingers were manically thrusting in my pussy. 9.999999...

“Zero!” he bellowed, and we both came, his cock filling my throat to the brim as my pussy gushed all over the carpet, creating what I can only describe as a small lake. He pulled out of me and fell back onto the duvet, and I swallowed as much of his semen as I could manage (though some trickled out and escaped across my cheeks and chin) as I continued to writhe and scream on my knees - coming long and hard, just as my Master had commanded.

Finally, utterly spent, I collapsed sideways, lying with splayed-out limbs on the bedroom floor.

It was some minutes before I had the energy to go and brush my teeth, and indeed wash my face...