I don’t love her anymore.

For most people, this sort of realization can feel like impending doom. You feel like a terrible person for admitting such a thing to yourself. You struggle to look your partner in the eye. The performance of normality becomes a nightmare. Hell, I myself have experienced exactly the same thing in past relationships.

But now, I really fundamentally just do not care.

Any feelings I once had for Lisa have faded into a dull indifference. I go through the motions, sure. I share a bed with her, sure — right now she’s asleep in my arms, for example.

But the only emotional response she genuinely gets out of me is annoyance, because I have to keep my true self a secret from her. I just have to.

Master told me not to let anyone in on my secret, so I can’t just tell her that my lesbianism has been undone based on utilitarian considerations - maximizing happiness in the world - and I can’t just break up with her. Instead, I have to keep performing.

Lisa’s become an obstacle, really, an obligation for me to manage. I plaster on a smile, choke out the occasional strained endearments, and come up with flimsy fig leaves to explain why we haven’t had dinner together in over three weeks. It’s astonishing that she keeps buying my excuses. I thought she’d figure out my infidelity way, way earlier.

Maybe she’s just dumb?

Whatever the reason, I almost wish she’d call me out on my bullshit, because then at least I’d have an excuse not to pretend anymore. But of course, that would mean failing Master… no, that’s literally, physically inconceivable.

I just have to accept that for the time being, I’m stuck in this performance. It’s exhausting.

There’s a silver lining, in that my time with Tom feels more mindless and blissful than ever. I’m so lucky to have him in my life, allowing me to genuinely unplug from higher thought!

He really does make everything better. The adrenaline alone would be worth it. The siren call of self-negation, that feeling of teetering on the precipice by giving another person — a man! — the keys to my identity, that thrill that makes my limbs quiver and my heart hammer like crazy… God, what’s everyday life, compared to that?

Dull gray, that’s what. Food feels bland, music shallow, conversations are tedious. The vibrancy has leached out of the world, with one glaring exception - when I'm with him. Then, everything bursts into color. I come alive, every nerve ending firing with blissful purpose.

Female purpose.

Oh, Master. I long for the day when I’ll finally be able to be openly devoted to him. I wonder if he’ll let me produce some social media content denouncing lesbianism. I know for a fact now that all the stereotypes were true - a lesbian is just a woman who hasn’t yet been tamed by the firm masculine hand and the quiet masculine word…

Rationally, I know I shouldn’t feel this nonchalant about my actions. I'm betraying my partner of many years, the woman I pledged my love and fidelity to. The old me would be eaten alive by guilt and self-loathing. The old me would never dream of cheating, let alone with a man. But now, I feel only a vague sense that I ought to feel bad. rather than actually feeling it.

Besides, I have to admit, the idea of cucking a lesbian with a dominant dude is so primally, toxically hot…

At the end of the day, it doesn’t really matter what my past self thought. I’ve independently reached a conclusion — that letting Tom demolish my lesbian brain is the optimal and most moral course of action to make the world a better place — and I have naturally self-modified in accordance with that conclusion.

The ability to change is not a bad thing. Change is growth.

Unfortunately, people don’t always change together. Sometimes, they change apart from one another. This is definitely one such case. Once, just listening to her breath while she sleeps would have made me feel the luckiest gal on Earth. Now, I’m trying to judge whether she’s sleeping deeply enough that I can disentangle myself from her and head out without waking her up.

It’s hard not to just get up and go. Were it not for Tom’s wishes of discretion, I’d be out the door already. I’m counting the minutes until I can be in his presence again, kneeling at his feet where I belong.

It's the natural order of things. Like a law of physics or a mathematical constant, immutable and predetermined.

Male over female. Straight over lesbian. Him over me.

He is the sun and I am a planet, destined to orbit him for eternity. Lisa… Lisa is an asteroid hurtling through space. Briefly crossing my path before continuing on its lonely trajectory into the void. She doesn't factor into the cosmology of my existence, not anymore.

I officially can’t wait any longer. Ready or not, it’s time.

Carefully, so as not to wake her, I extract myself from Lisa's embrace and slip out of bed. I get quietly dressed and walk to the door, ready to slip out.

I freeze, my hand on the doorknob, as Lisa's sleepy voice drifts across the room. "Soph? Where are you going, baby?"

Shit. I thought she was out cold. I plaster on a smile and turn back to her, hoping the darkness of the room hides the strain on my face. "Hey, sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. I just... remembered I left some papers I need to grade at the office. Figured I'd pop over and get them so I can work on them tomorrow."

It's an utterly flimsy excuse. The office isn't even open at this hour, and I never bring work home on the weekends anyway. Lisa knows that. She has to see through this, she has to...

But she just hums and snuggles deeper into the covers. "'Kay. Don't be too long though. Bed's cold without you." She gives a sleepy little thumbs up before her breathing evens out again.

I stand there for a moment, stunned. She bought that? Really? God, how can someone so smart be so gullible? Or maybe she's just that deep in denial, unwilling to see what's right in front of her face.

Either way, I'm not going to question my good fortune. I slip out the door, shutting it gently behind me. The night air is bracingly cold as I step outside, making me gasp. But it's good, it clears the cobwebs from my head, sharpens my focus.

It’s late enough in the evening that the trams are no longer running. I could take the car, but the university is within walking distance, and Lisa might hear the engine being turned on and wonder… no, I am bound to keep Master’s secret, so I’ll have to go there on foot.

I set off at a brisk pace, my breath pluming in front of me. I need to get to him. I need to feel his hands on me, his voice in my ear, telling me what to do, how to think, who to be.

His building looms ahead. I've been here so many times now, I could find my way blindfolded. In fact, the idea of being literally blindly devoted sends a shiver down my spine. Maybe tonight I'll ask him if he’s into blindfolds…

***

Master is excited. More so than usual.

It is an inherent quality to competent slavery to be observant, at least when one’s owner is concerned. He doesn’t need to overtly show that he’s excited, I can tell. I can’t wait to find out why, but I also would never dare push him. He’ll tell me when, and if, he thinks appropriate to tell me.

Instead, I just nuzzle into his firm chest, breathing in the masculine scents that make my head spin. "Oh, Master! I’ve missed you so much."

He chuckles, but there’s more than just amusement in it. He’s obviously very pleased with himself. And why not? He’s perfect, after all.

"It's only been a few days, pet. But I'm glad you're so eager."

His hands slide possessively down my back to cup my ass, pulling me flush against him. I can feel his hardness pressing against me, and it makes me weak in the knees. God, how did I ever think I could live without this?

Dumb dyke that I was. I exist to complement cock.

He pulls back slightly to look me in the eye, one hand coming up to grip my chin. "Today's a big day for you, Sophie. A milestone in your process."

Process? I'm not entirely sure what he means by that, but I nod eagerly anyway. Anything that involves him and pleases him is something I want to be a part of. "What is it, Master? What do you have planned?"

His thumb strokes along my lower lip and my mouth falls open automatically, ready to take him in. I suckle gently, occasionally looking up at him with big, tremulously submissive eyes.

Eye contact is a curious thing. It can be challenging, even defiant. But when performed appropriately, it can be the exact opposite as well. Pleading, subservient, vulnerable. Submissive.

This, too, is a quality inherent to competent slavery.

"You're going to meet one of my other girls today," he says. "Another one I've been… working over."

A thrill courses through me at his words. Another girl? Oh, that’s just wonderful news!

It’s a well-established fact that a man as perfect as Master could have any woman he desires. Any one of us would drop at his feet if he so much as snapped his fingers, that’s self-evident. It’s also why most relationships with women would be so inherently low in value to him. Nothing worth having is easy.

He knows that. He’s taught me that. So, if there are other women in his life, they must be women like me - theoretically unattainable ones. Lesbian women. Asexual women. Even just straight married women. Someone whose scarcity and rarity inflates her value to him as a sex toy.

Even just one additional girl other than me would double the amount of happiness he receives from this situation. It’s so joyful and perfect that contemplating it brings a tear to my eye!

I wonder what she'll be like. Will we have that instant connection, that unspoken understanding of what it means to be owned by him, body and soul?

"Come," he says, taking my hand and leading me into the bedroom. "She's waiting for us."

My heart is pounding as we walk down the hallway and enter his bedroom, blood rushing in my ears. And then I see her and my heart stops altogether. Because sitting there on the bed, naked except for a leather collar around her neck, is…

What.

I blink rapidly, sure I must be seeing things. But no, it's definitely her.

"Lisa?!?"

She looks up at me, her eyes glassy and unfocused at first. But then they sharpen and widen with recognition. "Sophie? What… what are you doing here?"

"No, what are you doing here?"

I gape at her, my mouth opening and closing like a fish. I can't process this. Lisa, my Lisa, here in my Master's home.

How did she even get here ahead of me? But of course, she must have used the car! I slap my forehead, teetering on the precipice of some bigger realization. She… I… the both of us, we’ve been…

Collared and naked on my Master's couch, Lisa stares back at me with wide, disbelieving eyes. In this surreal moment, time seems to slow to a crawl.

Master looks to me, then to her, then back to me, visibly confused. Then, realization dawns on his face.

"Ah. Well, this is quite the surprise, isn't it? I had no idea you two were connected. What are the odds?"

His voice is calm, amused even, and it hits me then - he truly didn't know. Lisa and I work in separate faculties, separate university buildings. That’s where he would have met her, just like he met me in my own faculty, when I reached out to him as a guest lecturer.

He must have seduced us independently.

We must have independently reached the same conclusion of maximal utility.

We must have both been undone in orientation and identity.

Slowly, Lisa rises from the bed, her movements graceful despite her obvious bewilderment. She takes a tentative step towards me, then another, until we're standing face to face, close enough to touch. Her eyes search mine.

We just stare at each other in stunned silence for a long, suspended moment.

As the shock fades, a strange sense of relief washes over me. I can see it mirrored in Lisa's eyes, in the subtle relaxation of her shoulders.

We don't have to pretend anymore. The charade is over.

No more strained smiles and half-hearted endearments. No more increasingly flimsy excuses to duck out of the apartment and into Master's arms. No more pretending we still love one another.

It’s done.

"I can't believe it," Lisa whispers, her voice trembling slightly. "All this time, we've both been…"

"Serving Master," I finish for her.

She nods, a small, incredulous laugh escaping her. "God, and here I thought you were going to wisen up to my infidelity eventually. I never imagined…"

"That I was doing the exact same thing?" I shake my head, marveling at the sheer improbability of it all.

Behind us, Master chuckles, amused. "Well, isn't this a delightful turn of events," he says, stepping forward to circle us slowly. His eyes take in our bodies, proprietary and appreciative. "You can only claim so many pets before you start seeking some variety… and this one is definitely novel…"

God, we’re maximizing his happiness so much right now. It makes me want to drop to my knees, to prostrate myself before him in worship.

"The couple that submits together, stays together, would you agree?" He asks, pondering. "Though I suppose 'couple' is a bit of a misnomer now."

Beside me, Lisa shudders, her breath coming in shallow pants. We're both so far gone, so utterly lost in his thrall. And it feels so correct. How else would things ever be?

Master smirks. "Tell you what. Why don’t we have fun with this novelty, and play little game, the three of us?"

He paces in front of us, letting the anticipation build. I can feel Lisa trembling beside me, but my own body is hardly doing better: my heart is pounding, cold sweat trickles down my spine in rivulets, and I’m so fucking wet.

I’ve never felt so alive.

"You're going to fuck each other," Master says. "For my viewing pleasure, naturally. Performative lesbianism is hot. And whoever makes the other cum first… I’ll fuck her. The loser will be relegated to fluffer for the night, and will have to clean up the mess afterwards."

He claps his hands, nodding in our direction. "What do you say?"

The humor of this final gesture isn’t lost on me, nor on Lisa, I suspect. We don’t get a say. Why would we? We’ll do whatever he tells us to do, there simply can’t be any other decision.

"Yes, Master," we say in unison. I love how that sounds. Like we really are a matching set of jewellery pieces for him - ornamental, decorative, sexual, and well-trained…

"Good girls," he says, rubbing at his erection through his trousers with the palm of his hand. "Now, let the games begin."

I turn to face Lisa, drinking in the sight of her. Her blonde hair is tousled, her blue eyes glassy with arousal. Her lips are parted, her chest heaving with each rapid breath. She looks utterly debauched, and we haven't even touched yet.

Slowly, deliberately, I reach out and trail my fingertips down her arm. She shivers at the contact, and I lean in, brushing my lips against her ear.

"I'm going to make you cum so hard."

"Not if I get you first."

Lisa lunges at me and we tumble to the floor in a tangle of limbs, each of us trying to gain the upper hand. Her body presses against mine as we grapple and wrestle, skin sliding against skin. I manage to flip her onto her back and straddle her, pinning her wrists above her head.

"Nice try," I smirk down at her. I grind my hips against hers, our sexes rubbing together. Lisa gasps and arches beneath me.

I lean down and capture her nipple between my teeth, biting and sucking. She writhes and moans, playing it up for Master's benefit like a wanton slut.

Keeping her pinned with one hand, I snake the other between her thighs, exaggerating my movements to put on a good show. My fingers find her wet and ready, just like I am.

I have no interest in sexually pleasing her beyond the obvious pleasure of carrying out Master’s will, but I do like the fact that I’m evidently stronger than she is.

I toy with her a little, just to build up the anticipation. Then, I start fingering her.

She clenches around me immediately as I pump my fingers in and out. She writhes and bucks beneath me as I work her over. Her hands grip my hips almost painfully.

I glance up again and lock eyes with Master. He's fully hard now, stroking himself slowly as he watches us. The intensity of his gaze sends a fresh surge of arousal through me. I moan against Lisa's flesh, the vibrations making her cry out.

I slip a third finger inside her and curl them just so, finding that perfect spot. At the same time, I flick my thumb rapidly over her clit. It's all she needs to send her hurtling over the edge. Her back arches as the orgasm crashes through her, a hoarse scream tearing from her throat.

I work her through every second of her climax, prolonging it, drawing it out for as long as I can. When the last aftershocks have passed, I sit back on my heels and proffers my hand to her, slick with her juices. Lisa, panting and with her skin sheened with sweat, immediately leans forward to lap at my fingers like a well-trained dog.

She is to be the fluffer for the night, after all. Might as well get started.

"Well done, pet," Master says, stepping closer and closer until he’s looming over the both of us. "You've earned your prize."

His thick, hard cock sways left and right before my face. My mouth waters at the sight, and I almost go cross-eyed. I can’t wait to get fucked by it, by him.

But not yet. First, his fluffer will have to get him ready.

Master lowers himself to the ground and grabs Lisa by the hair, pressing his cock to her formerly-lesbian lips. "Get it ready, slut," he says, and she does, engulfing the tip of his cock with her mouth. He groans as her lips close around him.

The first time he shallowly thrusts into her mouth, I lean forward, making eye contact with Lisa. This is the other type of eye contact. Not demure, but self-confident in the extreme. I look her straight in the eye, and tell her.

"You want to know something, Lisa?"

"Mmpphh?" She mumbles questioningly, as she dutifully warms Master’s cock with her mouth.

I grin.

It’s the first genuine smile I’ve flashed at her in months.

"I don’t love you anymore."

TO BE CONTINUED...