4 – A Certain Technique
I can’t believe this is happening. I’ve never seen, much less touched a cock in person, and now I’m kneeling before Reinhard, as he pulls it out and starts to stroke it.
I stare at his bulging erection with a mix of apprehension and worshipfulness, a combination that would have seemed both corny and ridiculous to me not long ago. But that was before the event. Before the payload.
Before the fall.
“You don’t know half of what the payload is actually capable of,” Reinhard says, his voice dripping hunger. “In fairness I couldn’t believe it either, when I started reading about it…”
“Reinhard, please,” I say, not even knowing whether I’m begging him to stop, or to show me. “I -”
I don’t get to finish the thought. Reinhard draws closer, looming over me, and slaps me. Then, while I’m still reeling, his hand swings again, backhanding me.
It’s not hard enough to actually hurt, but the sting, the humiliation, his brazen confidence that he can do this to me, take my breath away. And, and, and…
My sex is radiating heat, pulsing in anticipation. I’ve never, ever been this wet before in my entire life.
I look up at him, my eyes widening in shock.
“That was… so hot…”
There’s a cruel fire in Reinhard’s eyes as he smiles wolfishly. “This will happen every time you’re disrespected, debased, or humiliated. And the best part? You’ll build up tolerance to it.”
“No…” I say, shaking my head in disbelief at the perfection of the trap.
“Yes,” Reinhard says, his voice steely. “You will keep seeking the high, the thrill. You will accept more and more humiliations, just to feel it again. What used to be unthinkably humiliating for you will become your new normal.”
I stared up at him, wide-eyed, torn between dread and desperate arousal. Even something as simple as the slap has immediately changed me. I feel meeker for it, like he’s slapped bitchiness and entitlement and feminism out of me.
I reach out, kissing the hand that’s slapped me, while his other hand tousles my hair. The sound of every kiss is a new seal on my downfall. My own self-sabotaging brain keeps supplying rationalisations for my own demotion.
He’s bigger and stronger than me. Of course he gets to push me around. I’ve had to kiss his shoes, what kind of independent person does that? He literally gets to slap me around when I’m being a silly girl.
He’s talking down to me while I’m acting as a toy for his amusement. And because of the programming, I get wetter every time he says something demeaning about me.
His cock slaps my cheeks, making me squeal – its texture feels odd, hard and soft at the same time, but I still find myself rubbing my cheek against it, like an affectionate pet.
Then, his hands twirl my hair, shortening my leash, angling my face towards his cock.
“Suck my cock, Audrey,” he says, breathless, and I know this is a dream come true for him. “Worship it with your lesbian lips. Acknowledge yourself owned.”
I whimper in desperation, pleasure, and defeat as he pulls my head into his lap, piercing my lips with his throbbing cock. As I close my mouth around it to form as tight a seal as I can, I breathe in his musky scent, letting it chain me down at his feet.
Disassembling my resistance.
“Yes, fuck,” he says, “fucking finally. Show me you know who calls the shot here, girl. I’m your boss.”
I moan around his dick, his words going straight to my pussy, stimulating it more than any sex ever could. I try to think of how Leah looks when deepthroating my strapon, so I close my eyes, distending my facial features to look as attractive as possible, stretching my lips as they slide up and down on his shaft.
I make sure to alternate closing my eyes in worship, and looking up at him with big, submissive, terrified eyes. The kind of girly look that pleads for a man’s mercy, such as there is to be found.
This is the very first blowjob Reinhard is getting from his longtime crush, and I want him to enjoy every minute of it. Absurdly, there’s barely any room in my mind for the consideration that it’s my first blowjob, period, and that I certainly never dreamed I would be giving one. Much less enjoying it.
But Reinhard ensures my enjoyment with a stream of humiliating words.
“A woman’s mouth was never meant to be heard,” he says, throwing his head back in delight. “Just to be felt around a dick. God, you’ve cockteased me for years, you and your girlfriends… but that ends today. You’re mine now.”
“Mmmmppphhh,” I mumble in meek apologetic agreement around his cock. I feel so utterly cowed, so ultimately female, so… domesticated. I’m imagining every girlfriend I’ve ever had, kneeling alongside me, waiting for the privilege of worshipping Master with their lips.
I wonder how many of them have been collared already. I hope they’re being good, obedient dykes for their master like I am. I hope if any of them are still free, that they get collared soon.
I’m being conditioned to think these vile thoughts, purely because they go straight to my cunt, and it’s working, and the fact that it’s working tells me I really am a dumb slut, that I really do deserve this.
I ignore the soreness in my jaw, concentrating on my duty, on my future as his sex kitten, his domestic little pet. Is he going to move in with us? Is he going to break us up? Maybe
I can convince him to let me stay with Leah, if I’m good enough for him…
That’s when Reinhard suddenly snaps me out of my reverie, pulling out of my mouth. He’s panting hard, sweating, his muscular chest rising and falling.
“Get on the bed, slave,” he says. It’s so simple a word, slave, but it makes me cream myself. That’s what I am to him now. Our friendship is over, because I’m not good enough to be his equal. God, that’s so hot.
I get to my feet, struggling to keep my balance, but before I can approach the bed, he’s thrown me on it, landing atop me with his body weight. He pins me down, one knee against my back, as he fumbles with my jeans, sliding them off.
My underwear follows, and I know I’m presenting my defeated cunt to a domineering man, for the very first time.
God, I can’t believe how good it feels, being held down by a man like this. I can barely contain my anticipation as he pulls my hips upward, until I’m on all fours, my face down on the mattress under the palm of his open hand.
I let out a started mewl as Reinhard’s fingers toy with my sex, giving my clit a few hesitant strokes, gauging my reaction. He lets out a satisfied chuckle when I start trying to hump his fingers.
“Whoever designed this is a fucking genius,” he says, and I have to agree. God, the speed and totality of my breakdown is insane. I was a lesbian and a feminist literal days ago.
Now, I’m a submissive puddle of girly weakness, waiting for my master to finally claim me.
I never understood how deep the link is between subjugation and femininity. But now I do, and I’ll never look at men the same way again.
Then, without warning, Reinhard’s hand closes in a fist around my hair, and pulls.
As my upper body climbs in the air, he aligns his hips with mine, thrusting into me with all his strength. I gasp as he enters me, my back arching to meet his pull on my hair, my cunt clenching around his cock as it defiles me.
There’s no going back from this. I can’t un-suck his cock, or undo the fact that a man has fucked me. At last, the programming has won. I’ve been claimed as a man’s slut.
I’m sure something as simple as penetration isn’t supposed to feel this good. But to my programming-addled brain, this is literally too much pleasure to handle. Lubricated and aroused like never before, I find myself babbling incoherently as I begin to enthusiastically bounce on Reinhard’s dick.
“Millions of years of evolution have sculpted your body to be a sex toy for men,” Reinhard says, his free hand exploring my thighs, my breasts, my neck while he pulls on my hair like a set of makeshift reins.
The misogyny makes me break out in a series of guttural moans.
“I have plans for you and Leah,” he continues, pistoning in and out of me, gaining ground inside me with every new thrust. “She’s so submissive it’s barely any fun bossing her around. You, on the other hand, so willful and strong… I’ll love breaking you.”
“Master!” I shout, the one coherent word I can manage as he literally fucks feminism and independence out of me.
“That’s right,” he says. “Leah, she can continue to study. I might even let her look for a job after she gets a degree. Nothing too prestigious of course, something more befitting her station… secretarial work, so she doesn’t get uppity.”
I widen my eyes at the implication of what he’s saying, and my mind thinks back to Frida, now reduced and vanquished, and professor Watkins, and Cindy’s disappointment when I let her know I’m not coming to class, ever again.
“You, now…” he continues, my cunt clenching harder around his cock. “You, I have different plans for. And trust me, for what I have in mind, you certainly don’t need a degree -”
I cut him off, his words drowned out by my desperate scream as I climax around him. The devastating shockwaves of my orgasm radiate outward from my sex, destroying all defense in their place until nothing is left of me except my submission and my pleasure.
A cock has just taken me to orgasm. No, a man stripping me of my education has just taken me to orgasm. And it’s nothing like any climax I’ve ever known. It’s like there’s a clit in my brain, like the programming has created whole new pleasure centers for Reinhard to tease, torture, and eventually conquer.
“Remember I’m your legal guardian now,” he says, huffing and puffing behind me as I grind myself against his hips. “I’ll take away your bank accounts…”
And again, my scream cuts him off. The mere idea of surrendering my material, financial autonomy to a man is enough to hit my fragile female brain like a hammer on a pane of glass. I shout my servile orgasm for all the world to hear, wondering if Leah is touching herself to my unconditional surrender.
I hope she is, the little slut.
“You’re no longer a lesbian,” Reinhard says, tugging on my hair, making my back adhere to his chest as he bottoms out inside me. “And you’re no longer Leah’s girlfriend. She’s mine now – submissive and inferior, but a girlfriend nonetheless. You…”
He bites my neck, his free hand twisting my nipples, my shaking body held upwards only by his strong arms. “You’re a slavegirl. My slavegirl. I have so many fantasies I want to live out with you, and trust me: during so many years lusting after you, I’ve had the time to think of so many of them…”
I whimper and moan at his utter conquest of me, relishing his breath on my neck.
“I’m so sorry,” I say, snivelling, grovelling, begging. Following, and submitting, and falling.
“What for, slut?”
“I’m sorry that I ever dared compete in the same job market as you,” I say, my every muscle trembling with electricity. “I’m sorry I always acted like I was your equal. I’m sorry I’ve refused you! I should have given myself over to you the moment I noticed you wanted me, Master!”
“Oh, you will be,” Reinhard says, slapping my rear, which threatens to send me over the edge again all by itself. “Thankfully that can be rectified now. You’re so grateful to the developers for this, aren’t you?”
Oh god, he’s really going to make me say it. I’m really going to have to thank them. I…
I’m an addict looking for a fix. And so, I know no hesitation.
“I’m so grateful!” I shout at the top of my lungs. “I want to kiss their cocks in reverence! I’ll write it all over my social media, I’ll share my experience in catcher spaces! Thank you for letting me know that women aren’t people, that I belong to Master! Thank you thank you thank you!”
And then, for a third time, I orgasm. My brain short-circuits as I experience a system crash, and it feels like I’m literally cumming my brains out, growing dumber and simpler and more docile with every twitch and spasm of my broken body.
That’s fine. I won’t be needing brains anymore.
Reinhard lets me go, and I collapse face-first on the bed, winded and in shock. But I still mewl in pleasure when he lies right against my back, crushing me into the mattress with his weight.
I know he hasn’t cum yet, and I don’t know what supernatural endurance has allowed him to do that. But I know he’ll have his dues, and that my work is not yet done.
Tousling my hair, however, he keeps speaking into my ear.
“You remember I mentioned certain techniques to domesticate women?” He says, his voice so deep, so commanding, so dominant.
I nod, meekly, whispering my answer like it’s a half-remembered prayer. “Wondrous and terrifying results…”
“Yes,” Reinhard says, and I can hear the sadistic smile in his voice as he draws closer to my ear.
“Let me show you.”