I walked back into the clinic with Emily at my side. We had just finished a long, productive lunch at the bistro down the street, though the meal was strictly business. I had tasked her with developing a list of potential targets around campus and the surrounding professional districts to bring into the practice. Emily had proven herself to be quite the strategist. Over our second glass of wine, she suggested offering the first session at no charge to lure them in. She pointed out that once they sat in the chair for the induction, I could simply make them want to pay any price I demanded for the follow-up.

I watched her as we entered the lobby. She was sharp, efficient, and increasingly proactive. While I had only given her a small nudge with the “Blue Velvet” protocol, she had blossomed into a full accomplice with a speed that made me slightly wary.

As I sat at my desk and began reviewing my notes for the afternoon, Emily stepped into the room. She adjusted her glasses, her eyes darting toward the hidden door. “Doctor, I was wondering if I could watch this one? From the bathroom? I’d really like to see how she’s handling the new commands.”

I opened my mouth to grant her permission, but the front desk phone began to ring with an insistent, shrill tone. Emily let out a sigh of frustration and hurried back to the lobby to answer it. The caller was apparently demanding, keeping her tied to the desk until I heard the chime of the front door. Amy had arrived.

She bounced into my office a moment later, her energy almost overwhelming. She looked remarkably happy, her step light and her face glowing with a frantic sort of joy. She was wearing a tiny denim skirt and a tank top. I could see the heavy silver rings through her dark, prominent nipples pressing against the thin fabric.

“Hey, Doctor Wagstaff!” she said, hopping onto the edge of the couch.

I settled into my chair, observing her carefully. Mary had been correct in her assessment during our last session. Amy didn’t look like a victim of trauma. She looked like someone who had just returned from a luxury vacation.

“You seem exceptionally well, Amy,” I noted, keeping my voice neutral. “Tell me about your week. How was the date with Mary?”

Amy’s eyes lit up. She leaned forward, her hands resting on her knees. “She told you about that? Oh my god, it was like, totally life-changing. I was so nervous at dinner, you know? Mary was being so sweet, but I knew what she wanted. When we got back to her dorm, she asked if I wanted to stay as her fuckmeat. I didn’t even have to think about it. I was literally dripping through my panties.”

She began to recount the night with a breathless enthusiasm. From her perspective, the absolute degradation Mary had described was a series of ecstatic peaks.

“When Marcus walked out, I thought my heart was going to stop,” she whispered, her hand moving to her throat. “He was so huge. Like, six-foot-six of just pure man. Mary pushed me down and told me to worship him. I felt so small, doctor. Just a little hole for them to play with. When he was skullfucking me, I couldn’t even breathe, but I didn’t want him to stop. I loved the feeling of being totally taken over.”

“And then, oh my god, the poppers,” she panted, her face flushing at the memory. “Marcus was so big that I was actually a little scared for my ass, but then Mary held that little bottle under my nose. I heard that sharp click of the cap and then that sweet, chemical smell just hit me. It was like this huge rush of heat just exploded in my brain, and I swear my heart started hammering against my ribs. My whole body went totally limp, every single muscle just turned to jelly, and my back door just opened right up. It was like I didn’t have a choice but to let him in, and honestly, I didn’t want one.

“He slammed into my ass so hard while Mary was right there in front of me with her strapon, just wrecking my pussy at the same time. Marcus is so massive that he literally hauled me up like I was a doll. My feet weren’t even touching the floor while he was fucking me in that standing reverse cowgirl position Mary ordered him into. I was being totally filled up from both ends and it was the most amazing thing ever. Mary was biting and sucking on my silver nipple barbells, tugging on the metal until my back was arching with every heavy hit from Marcus. I could feel the cold jewelry and the hot friction of them both, and it was just totally overwhelming.

“I felt like I was being stretched apart, like I was just this piece of meat they were sharing, and I just kept coming and coming. I think I lost count after five. My brain was just totally fried from the Rush and the way they were both using me. I remember looking at Mary while Marcus was buried deep in my ass, and she looked so powerful, like she totally owned every single part of me. I was just their little object, their convenient little hole, and it was so perfect to finally just be fuckmeat.

“Then Mary told Marcus to turn around and show us his ass hole. Mary grabbed a thick handful of my hair, her fingers tightening around the dark strands, and she shoved my face right into the hot center of him. She barked at me to eat him like the good little piece of fuckmeat I was. I didn’t even have to think twice. I was already so high from the poppers and the DP that I just dove in. The smell was so strong and primal, so totally filthy, and I just started using my tongue, trying to please him while Mary watched from above. I loved the way his skin felt against my face and how vulgar and wrong it all felt.

“The absolute best part was right when he started to come. Marcus was groaning, and Mary was jerking his massive cock in front of him, and then suddenly I felt this huge, wet vibration right against my lips. He let out this massive, heavy fart right into my face while he was blowing his load. The smell almost made me pass out. It was so gross and so incredibly degrading, but I just stayed there, buried deep in his ass while the sound of it echoed in the small room. I could feel the heat and the filth of it hitting me, and it made me feel like I was the most used-up, mindless object in the world. Mary was laughing, telling me I was such a nasty little animal, and I just kept working my tongue because I wanted to show her that absolutely nothing could make me stop being her meat.

“I’ve never felt so open. It was like I wasn’t even Amy anymore. I was just a vessel. And the end? She commanded him to unleash a stream of piss directly down my throat. I felt so dirty, so used, and so totally perfect. I’ve been thinking about it every second since it happened.

“But the best part was actually afterward,” Amy continued, her voice softening into a dreamy sigh. “We all cleaned up together. Marcus helped, though he said the smell of the piss and the vomit was a little much for him, but he still said he had a great time. Once he left, Mary took me to her bed. She was so gentle and sweet. We spent hours just cuddling and she let me talk about every single thing I liked. She told me I was her perfect little toy and that she loved owning me. It made me feel so secure, knowing that even when she treats me like meat, she still really cares about me as her girlfriend. I woke up the next morning feeling so refreshed and light, like a completely new person.”

I listened to her, my jaw tightening. It wasn’t just Mary whose mind was creating a framework to support the “truths” I had implanted. Amy had done the same thing. She had taken the identity of “fuckmeat” and turned it into a source of profound happiness. As a therapist, I should have been satisfied. I had resolved her internal conflict and brought her to a state of bliss. Instead, it turned my mood foul. There was a sense of theft in her joy. I wanted her to be a broken thing under my heel, not a self-actualized slut who found power in her own debasement.

I didn’t wait for her to finish her next sentence. “Avalon Avalanche,” I barked.

The effect was instantaneous. Amy’s bubbly demeanor vanished as her consciousness was sucked into the depths. Her body went slack for a fraction of a second before her conditioned submissiveness took hold. She sat there, staring blankly ahead, her breathing becoming heavy and rhythmic.

“On the desk,” I commanded.

I stood up and unzipped my pants, my pulse thrumming with a dark, volatile heat. I wanted to remind her that her happiness was a secondary concern to my usage. I wanted to make the night with Marcus and Mary seem like a children’s birthday party.

I grabbed her by her dark hair and yanked her across the desk, clearing my pens and files with a violent sweep of my arm that sent them clattering to the floor. I shoved my cock into her mouth with a brutal force, ignoring her frantic, wet gagging. I went deep, my balls hitting her chin as I used her throat with a relentless, punishing rhythm. I wanted to see the hot tears in her eyes and the desperate struggle for air that Marcus had only teased in her story. I skullfucked her until her face was a dark, bruised purple, her hands clawing uselessly at the edge of the mahogany as she fought for a breath I wouldn’t grant. When I was finally done, her face was a pathetic mess of saliva, mucus, and snot.

I flipped her over and pinned her face-down against the hard wood of my desk. I considered for a long moment not bothering with lubricant at all. I wanted the raw friction of the act to serve as a stinging reminder of exactly who owned her. However, I realized that the resistance would be as unpleasant for me as it would be for her, ruinous to the rhythm of my foul mood. I grabbed some of the leftover fisting lube and smeared it on my cock. I drove myself into her ass with a single, uncompromising surge. I was rough, my thrusts deliberate and heavy, pushing her body forward with every impact until her chest was crushed against the desk surface. I worked her anal canal with a feral intensity, relishing the physical struggle of her body while I listened to the muffled, guttural whimpers she made into the leather desk pad.

“You’re just fuckmeat Amy,” I said as I drove into her. “This is your purpose!”

Finally, I forced her onto the floor, her legs spread wide against the unyielding rug. I entered her pussy with a savage and uncompromising drive, my hands moving to her throat to squeeze with a firm pressure as I pounded into her. I wanted her to feel the absolute, suffocating weight of my dominance, the sheer, crushing reality that she was nothing but a collection of convenient holes for my amusement. I hammered into her until I felt the final, stinging surge, erupting deep inside her as her body bucked and twitched in a dazed, involuntary climax that left her shivering and completely spent.

Then I stood, aimed my cock at her center mass, and unleashed a stream of rancid yellow piss all over her.

I stepped back, adjusting my clothes while she lay panting on the floor in a sprawling pool of spit, seed, and piss. I looked down at her, feeling a cold, sharp disdain.

“You think you’ve found something special, don’t you, Amy?” I monologued, my voice dripping with contempt. “You think this little framework you’ve built makes you important. It doesn’t. You are not good enough to take the absolute commands of that chair. You are a vessel. You will never be anything but fuckmeat to Mary, or to me. And Mary? She will never love a hole like you. She only loves the way you allow her to feel powerful. You are a toy she will eventually break and discard.”

I felt a sudden, irrational spike of anger. I lashed out, my foot connecting with her ribs in a sharp, punishing kick. As I did, my shoe slipped in the ropy fluids coating the floor. I lost my balance, my legs sliding out from under me. I crashed to the ground, landing hard on my hip in the very mess I had made of her.

“Damn it,” I hissed, struggling to find purchase on the slick rug.

I was about to reach for the intercom to summon Emily to clean us both up when the clinic’s fire alarm suddenly went off. The sound was a piercing, rhythmic shriek that echoed off the walls. Red strobe lights began to flash in the hallway, cutting through the dim “magic hour” glow of the office.

“Move!” I barked at Amy, scrambling to my feet.

The urgency of the alarm broke the heavy atmosphere of the room. I grabbed her clothes from the floor and began shoving them onto her dazed, shivering body. After giving her face a cursory wipe with a cloth from my desk, I dressed her like a mannequin, pulling her skirt up and snapping her top into place with frantic, uncoordinated fingers. She was still half-entranced, filthy with fluids, and smelling, like, well, piss. Her eyes were glassy as I hauled her to her feet and shoved her toward the door. We rushed out into the hallway, joining the confused flow of people as the building’s security system continued its deafening, mechanical scream. They couldn’t see me with her like this. I gave her a quick command to go back to her dorm room and clean herself up and then bring herself out of the trance. I hoped she wouldn’t draw any attention.

Fuck, what a day.