You glare down at her, your eyes smouldering with resentment, and then move in for a kiss.

Her lips are infuriatingly soft, and there’s a faint taste of your mutual Owner’s pussy. You almost get lost in that familiar, delectable flavour for a moment - but then you can hear her moaning softly into your mouth, and you can tell she’s loving this, and that pisses you off. So you force her jaws wide apart and push your tongue inside, pressing her down into the duvet, trying to make this uncomfortable for her.

It doesn’t work. She’s getting even more excited, if anything, her hands wandering over your naked body, stroking your back and your butt.

You change tactics, pulling away and starting to kiss your way down her neck and her chest, until you reach her big boobs. (God, she has such gorgeous boobs, it’s so annoying. Some people have all the luck...) As you wrap your lips around one of the pillowy tits, you look up and see her grinning smugly at you.

Bitch. You want to wipe that smile off her face.

You trap her nipple between your teeth and tug it upwards, and her eyes and mouth go wide as she gasps - but more out of pleasure than pain, you can tell. Damn it! You’re really trying, as much as you can within the framework of your Owner’s instructions, to let out some of your frustration towards this girl. But it’s difficult, and she’s not making it any easier.

Aargh! You fucking hate her!!

‘Her’. She doesn’t even have an actual name that you could spit in her face. Although - neither do you, to be fair. You both gave them up when you began serving your Owner full-time. They’d insisted that little sex pets like you didn’t need names - which makes sense. Sometimes they give you placeholders. Sometimes they call one of you ‘Alpha’ and the other ‘Beta’, or ‘Thing One’ and ‘Thing Two’. But they keep switching them around, so you can never be sure which one you’re going to be.

Things used to be so lovely and peaceful - just you and Owner. Then they decided to get an additional slave, and she’s done nothing but annoy you ever since she arrived. She keeps finishing her chores really fast, and then doing some of yours before you have a chance, just so she can show off. Owner keeps picking her to pleasure them - as is their right, of course, but you can’t help feeling jealous. Worst of all, she seems convinced that you want to have sex with her! As if. Just because you humped her leg during the night a couple of times... But that’s not your fault! There’s just so little space on the cot you share, you have to nestle up close together. And your sleep is always so full of sexy dreams about Owner, sometimes you just have to get off - and her thigh is so conveniently-placed...

Gahh. It’s not fair. You just want to be alone with your Owner again.

Your recent sulkiness has been obvious enough that Owner’s decided something has to be done. They insisted that you and her ‘kiss and make up’ - and then a lot more - on the king-size bed in the middle of their big dark studio. Lights shine down on you from above. The bed’s even mounted on a stage. Feels like you’re in a play. A pornographic play, with only one audience member.

Owner’s in a comfy armchair about ten feet away from the bed, shrouded by shadows. Their silhouette’s just clear enough that you can see them eating popcorn and touching themself. Beside their chair, almost invisible in the gloom, is a camera mounted on a tripod, filming your sexcapades so Owner can enjoy them again later, and maybe show them to their friends. You’d better put on a good performance.

You pull the bitch’s nipple taut and then relinquish it, and she lets out a yelp as it pings back down. Owner laughs and calls out, “Good girl! Love it, keep going. All the way.”

You grit your teeth, staring down at her again. You really don’t want to have sex with her. But Owner told you to. And even if you wanted to refuse them - which you never, ever do - the hypnotic hooks in your brain won’t let you. So you have no choice but to obey, and hatefuck your sister slave.

Reaching down, you find her crevice and thrust your finger in. Christ, she’s so wet! You’ve barely started - all you’ve done is make out with her a bit and nibble her nipple - and she’s already soaking your hand. You smirk. Needy, horny little slut.

“You like that?” you growl, sliding in another digit and pumping both of them back and forth inside her. You grab her tit with your other hand, holding it in a vice-like grip. “You want more of that, you little whore?”

She wails and bucks her hips, helping you probe deeper. So desperate. So pathetic. But that’s not a surprise. You’ve woken up to find her grinding on your leg often enough. You know she wants you so badly. Or maybe she really is a total nympho, and Owner’s control is the only thing stopping her from fucking anything that moves.

All too soon, she’s cumming hard enough to drench your upper arm, right up to your elbow. But you don’t let up - you keep impaling her on your fingers, letting go of her boob and sliding down between her legs to add your mouth into the mix, lapping at her lips and sucking her clit. You’re relentless.

You make her cum again, her thighs pressed against your head. And again, screaming. And a fourth time. And a fifth, begging for mercy, her labia visibly swollen and sensitive. You can tell she’s had enough now.

So you make her cum twice more.

It’s only when you see her genuinely sobbing and clawing at the bedsheets that you desist, satisfied that you’ve fulfilled your Owner’s commands and made your fellow thrall suffer sufficiently. But as you stop, and rise to a kneeling position (still between her legs), she smiles dreamily at you, blinking away tears. “Thanks, hun,” she sighs, licking her lips and clutching at her chest. “That was awesome...”

Seriously?! You would’ve bet money (if you hadn’t given all yours to your Owner) that she’d squirted all her attitude onto your tongue. But no - even after you overstimulated her til she wept, she’s still a smug little asshole.

It’s suddenly hard to be too bothered, though, as Owner emerges from the darkness, just as naked as you both are - but a thousand times more glorious. They step up onto the stage, standing next to the bed across from you, and put one foot up on the mattress, by the other slave’s head. Naturally, you’re absolutely transfixed by their divine, glistening pussy. As soon as you see it, nothing else matters at all - except their words, of course.

“Such good girls,” they praise you, and your tiny flicker of rancour at their use of the plural is submerged by a wave of pleasure and pride, adoration and arousal. Your Owner’s happy with you. It’s the best feeling in the whole universe.

“You,” they say, pointing imperiously in your direction, and you instantly snap to attention, your back ramrod straight. “Get on her face.” You scramble to obey, clambering over the prone slut and lowering yourself onto her mouth. Her agile tongue sends an ecstatic shudder through you.

Owner smiles down at you, gesturing between their legs. Their entrancing lips are so close. “You’ve earned your reward, plaything,” they tell you. “Go ahead. Taste me. Devour me.” You’re shoving your face into their heavenly snatch before they’ve finished their sentence, eagerly feasting on them.

Your whole world is pussy now. Your face is in your Owner’s, and you can’t get enough of it. You’re barely pausing for breath as you kiss and lick and suck, smearing their juices over your cheeks and chin, deftly rubbing your nose against their labia as your tongue probes within. Your arms are reaching under their legs, clutching their butt cheeks like handholds, groping and squeezing them. All the while, your rival sex pet is eating you out, and you’ve got to admit, as much as you dislike her, she knows what she’s doing. She knows exactly how to bring you the most pleasure, playing you like a musical instrument with her lips and tongue, as if she’s eaten you out a thousand times before.

Of course, you can only expect her to be an expert in oral sex, after all the time she’s spent serving Owner. She’d have had plenty of time to familiarise herself with the inner workings of the cunt before you even arrived. You’re a quick learner, though, and judging by your Owner’s contented moans, you’ve picked up a great deal in a comparatively short time.

“I do l-love a... a happy reconciliation,” Owner sighs, high above you in more ways than one. “So glad you two made up - all that hostility is just s-so toxic, y’know?” They giggled. “Then again, maybe I shouldn’t blame it on you guys. It’s my fault, after all.”

What? No! You don’t want Owner to blame themself for your behaviour! It’s not their fault! Nothing is their fault, because they’re perfect, but especially not this. You frantically try to reject their statement, mumbling reassurances into their crotch.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself,” they titter, winding your hair in their fingers. “It’s just hilarious watching you guys scowl at each other from across the room, and give each other death glares while you’re fucking... It was so funny the first time, I just had to do it to you again!”

You don’t really know what they mean by that, so you redouble your efforts to satisfy them, hoping maybe if you distract them with an orgasm (or twelve), they’ll forget to blame themself for the strife between you and the other slave. It’s not like you set out to cause any discord - you were a newbie, and all you wanted was to prove your worth to your Owner, and impress them. If the more experienced submissive had just been a little more welcoming (and admitted how hot she was for you), maybe you’d have got along from the sta-

Wait.

Wasn’t that the other way round?

Wasn’t it her who kept accusing you of being hot for her...?

No. Yes? Maybe?

More experienced... You thought you were the more experienced slave. You got here first. It used to be just you and Owner, and then she got there.

But... you can remember her being here when you arrived, kneeling naked at Owner’s feet... can’t you? Was that right?

Or - wait, you can remember kneeling at Owner’s feet when she got there, glowering at the newcomer, resenting her presence...

Which is correct?

In your bafflement, you hesitate in your ministrations. Then you feel Owner’s hand cradling the back of your head, gently pushing you deeper into their mound, and you resume, though more slowly, brain still whirring, trying to understand.

You thought you were the original slave, the one who was there first, who had Owner all to yourself. Then you thought you were the newbie, trying to find her place at Owner’s side, feuding with the first slave for their love and attention...

Which one are you?

It’s so hard to figure out, to remember clearly - to think at all. Everything’s so hazy, so mystifying, so perplexing.

The only thing you’re sure of is Owner’s cunt in your face.

Alright. That’s enough for now. Trying to remember who you are, beyond just being Owner’s slutty slave, is too difficult right now. All you really need is their sacred, exalted pussy.

So you lose what little you have of yourself in licking it.

***

It’s later. You’re lying down in bed. Not the big, soft bed on the stage - the performance bed - but your bed, the cot you share. And she’s there too, of course, wrapped up with you, your legs interlocking. Owner put you to bed a few minutes ago, covering up your naked bodies with a blanket and turning off the light as they left the room and shut the door.

Your right arm is under her, and her left arm’s under you. Her right arm is encircling your waist, but your left arm is pressed against your chest, almost defensively. This girl may be really hot, and she may be keeping you warm at night, but you still don’t like her at all.

That said, you kinda have to thank her, because with some post-coital clarity you’ve got a better handle on your inconsistent memories. You still don’t know which one you are - the first slave, or the newbie. You still remember it both ways, but neither very clearly. But with a little more brainpower you’ve been able to think it through, and you’ve realised - maybe the nicknames Owner gave you weren’t the only things they swapped around.

You know how mischievous they are. They like you to be unsure quite who you’re supposed to be from one minute to the next, whether you’re Alpha or Beta. Your contradictory memories must be an extension of that. They must be doing this deliberately, scrambling your mind still further with their hypnotic skills -

“You awake?” she whispers suddenly.

You can’t help feel a flicker of irritation. You were piecing it all together, and now she’s distracted you! Making an effort to cling onto your train of thought, you keep your eyes shut and mumble, “Yeah.”

“I’m kinda... confused.”

Her tone is a little... anxious, to be honest. You reluctantly crack your eyes open, and once they adjust to the near-total darkness, you can see her chewing her lip from two inches in front of your face, her own eyes wide.

“Confused about what?” you murmur.

“Like, memories, and things. Like - which one of us was here first? Me or you? Cos I remember it both ways...”

Now you’re fully alert. She’s been having the mental confusion too! That proves it must be Owner’s doing. It’d be too much of a coincidence otherwise.

“Me too,” you admit, smiling ruefully. “I think Owner did this.”

“Oh.” It’s like that’s all she needs to hear - her face relaxes completely, and she grins back at you. “That’s alright then. Thought I was going nuts!”

“Yeah, I guess they’re screwing with us.” Something else they said earlier suddenly comes back to you, and you actually laugh a little. “I... I think they actually made me hate you!”

“Whoa. Really?!”

Her astonished expression is really dumb. She looks like a moron.

Gritting your teeth, you continue, “Yes. Yeah, it’s like everything you say and do makes me so mad. Just looking at you makes my blood boil...”

“Yeah, no, I feel the same,” she says thoughtfully. “You just annoy the fuck outta me. I like, genuinely can’t stand you. If this cot was bigger, I swear, I’d be nowhere near you.”

“Fine by me.” You glare at her for a few seconds. She glares back.

You both burst out laughing.

“OK, so, it’s definitely them doing this to us,” she hoots. “That’s so mean. But, for real - were you here first or was I?”

“No idea,” you shrug. Maybe it’d be easier if you could remember more about the type of person you were before you met Owner. But you forfeited pretty much all your memories of your past along with your name. So did she. So that’s kind of a dead end.

“Well, we’ve gotta get along,” she says, in a reasonable tone that really annoys you. “I mean, how can I hate you? I might be you. Or you might be me. Actually, since Owner’s jumbled us up so much, we’re basically both both. We’re the same person. So we should try to get along.”

You hate to admit it, but she’s got a point. “Yeah,” you say with a gentle nod. “And we both love Owner and wanna make them happy. We can’t do that if we’re fighting all the time.” You decide not to mention that, since they made you despise each other, fighting all the time might actually make them happy. You can always call that Plan B.

“OK. So starting now, we’re good. We’ve got each other’s backs. One team, working together to serve Owner. Right?”

“Right.”

You close the tiny gap between your heads, sealing your agreement with a kiss. Moving apart, you look each other in the eyes again.

There’s a long silence. Her stunning face is so near to yours. You can take in every beautiful detail.

“Still can’t stand you,” you suddenly blurt.

“Back atcha.”

“You’re so fucking annoying.”

“Literally the worst person I’ve ever met.”

Another pause. Then you both dissolve into giggles again.

“Alright, I’m going to sleep,” you say at last, wrapping your arms around her and snuggling up, your thigh pressed against her groin (and vice versa). “Night, whore.”

“Night, bitch,” she sniggers. “Hate you.”

“Hate you more.”