Following her through the streets was the most harrowing experience of my life. I never considered before how easy it was to see who I was. I hid in the crowd where I could, and behind buildings. But I knew where Dawn lived. It would have been easy to go straight there, but what if she took a drink before she got there? She'd be tranced in the street, taken advantage of by anyone smart enough to see the glassy look on her face.

Somehow, miraculously, she didn't see me. Focused on the cold and getting out of it. God, but she was beautiful. Bundled up in her faux-fur trimmed coat, her red scarf trailing out behind her. Her long blond hair like a scarf itself, golden in the dim light of the street lamps.

Finally, she took a drink just as she entered her house. I slipped my toe into the crack before the door closed and locked. After a moment, I heard a small thunk. Just like Lori, like Mallory, the second she tasted my cum she drained the cup. The cup rolled down on the ground.

I entered after her and turned on the small lamp on the desk in front of the entry. Then I locked the door. Her and Celise's house was small but cozy. Lots of artwork on the walls. I led Dawn into the small living room, across from a piano with a cushioned bench. The floors were carpeted thickly.

“Dawn.”

“Dawn,” she said back slowly, warmly.

I slid my hands through her hair, over her lips, on her luscious cheekbones. She was mine. Totally mine. I could do anything at all with her.

I needed her to be in my total, complete control. No questions. No second-guessing. No worries. I needed her to live and breath for me, and only me.

I popped open the caps of all five cum vials I had left in my cooler, and let the thick, gooey contents slide into her mouth.

The effect was immediate and intoxicating.

Her hips began slowly to convulse, as if she was dancing. Placing a finger against her crotch, I could feel the physical heat pouring from her cunt. The vibrations as it trembled again and again in orgasm. Good.

“Touch your pussy. Now. Erotically.”

“Yes.”

She obeyed, sliding her skirt and tights down, and pushing her fingers into her clit. Her face, beautiful and slack, tilted upward in pure obedience. Her blond hair, mussed from the cold and from the slow trance overtaking her, fell loose around her shoulders. Her fingers worked in slow, methodical circles around her clit, the way someone who had touched themselves a thousand times before knew exactly how to do it. Two fingers, the middle and ring, pressed flat against the small pink bud, rubbing in tight little circles that made her breath hitch and her hips roll forward into her own hand. Her other hand pushed lower, two more fingers sliding into her wet entrance. She moaned, obviously close to orgasm as she stared vapidly ahead.

“You will call me Master.”

“Yes, Master.”

Good. That was easy.

“You’re in love with me.”

“I’m in love with you, Master.”

Absolutely no resistance. Wow. The six loads of cum might have been overdoing it a little. But if I could turn a fully-fledged, lifelong lesbian into a happy, willing sex slave with that much…god. The possibilities felt endless. I felt like a god.

“You love my cock.”

“I love your cock, Master.”

“You don’t care about other cocks.”

She shook her head softly. “I don’t care about other cocks, Master.”

“You love only my cock.”

“I love only your cock, Master.”

“You’ll do anything for me.”

“I’ll do anything for you, Master.”

My heart thumped with need. Fuck. She was such a beautiful woman. I couldn’t help myself. I needed to own her. I needed to own her as completely, if not more completely, as I had Lori and Mallory.

“You’ll forget all about firing me.”

“I’ll forget all about firing you, Master.”

“You’ll forget all about going to the cops.”

“I’ll forget all about going to the cops, Master.”

“You’ll forget about talking with Audrey today.”

“I’ll forget about talking with Audrey today, Master.”

“You won’t complain to Celise.”

“I won’t complain to Celise, Master.”

The trouble was taken care of, and I could have stopped there. I didn’t need to keep going. I could fuck Dawn at will now, probably, and she wouldn’t cause any problems for me. But my heart thrummed with passion. Now that I had control over Dawn, I wanted nothing to get in my way.

And I thought, just for a moment, how Dawn had called me a twerp. How she threatened me. And a sick grin arrived on my face.

“You don’t want to be with Celise anymore.”

“I don’t want to be with Celise anymore, Master.”

“You’ve wanted to break up with Celise for years.”

“I’ve wanted to break up with Celise for years, Master.”

“You know I belong in charge of you.”

“I know you belong in charge of me, Master.”

Just like that, she started cumming. Her body had no sense of control—just obedience. And her brain was giving no psychological resistance to the constant pleasure she gave to her clit. And as soon as she stopped cumming, I started my commands again. She still fingered her hot, dripping wet pussy. There was a soft puddle in her bunched-up tights, dripping down to the floor.

“You want me to run the shop for you.”

“I want you to run the shop for me, Master.”

Just like that, re-wiring everything that was important to Dawn. It wasn’t subtle, and I didn’t care. Her entire life’s work had now been dedicated to me. Her most personal, loving relationship was twisted up and discarded, replaced with the pillar of light that I represented.

I was, in every sense, Dawn’s everything.

My thoughts were heady with this sense of power I now held. I didn’t entertain any thoughts of slowing down or moving in increments or having any moderation. I wanted Dawn’s every heartbeat to be dedicated to my glory as her Master and God.

“You’ve loved me for a long time, now.”

“I’ve loved you for a long time, Master.”

“You’ve nursed this crush for too long.”

“I’ve nursed this crush for too long, Master.”

“You need to be with me.”

“I need to be with you, Master.”

Her body convulsed as she came, again.

How far could I fuck up her values with this much cum? I had to find out. I had to know if I could rearrange her entire philosophy. A lifetime of study and hard work, desperately flailing against the system…could I reverse it? Could I change her that much?

Only one way to find out.

“It’s right for men to be in charge of women.”

“It’s right for men to be in charge of women, Master.”

It was easy. She flopped over with a smile on her face. Relieved, even. Happy to give in. She wanted to hear what I had to say, and she wanted to believe me. Fingering herself while I rewrote her every last value.

“You love being subordinate to me.”

“I love being subordinate to you, Master.”

“Women belong on their knees before strong men.”

Her grin was almost manic. Fingering herself more furiously than before. Turned on by her corruption. Maybe this is what she thought all along. Maybe that's why she fought so hard against it.

“Women belong on their knees before strong men, Master.”

“There’s nothing wrong with patriarchy.”

She nodded, eyes blank and face needy. “There’s nothing wrong with patriarchy, Master.”

“You’re nothing but a hot, simple-minded fuckslave.”

“I’m nothing but a hot, simple-minded fuckslave, Master.”

I couldn’t stop myself. I took her other hand and had it wrap around my cock as I kept feeding words and phrases into her mouth, into her core, into her every atom of being.

It was addicting, corrupting, compelling, unstoppable. I filled her mind with the most debasing, devaluing thoughts I could think of. She had been a proud lesbian fighter of patriarchy and the male order. I transformed her, command by unstoppable command, for over an hour, with her eyes blank and white the entire time. She was my loveslave. She was my fuckpet. She was my bimbo lovedoll. She knew that thinking wasn’t good for her. All she wanted, all the time, was to obey me and give me pleasure. All she was good for was breeding and giving me pleasure. She wanted to give me babies. She wanted to be filled with my seed at all times. She would be obedient and quiet, happy and eager, soft and gentle, and would display her body for my pleasure.

Women were decorative. Women were warm, wet, willing. Women were the furniture of a man’s life, arranged however he liked and replaced when they bored him. Dawn repeated every word back with her fingers buried inside herself, her voice dropping lower and lower, softer and softer, like something being put down for a long sleep.

Women did not run businesses. Women did not own things. Women held things for men, kept them warm, kept them ready. The bookstore was not Dawn’s bookstore. It had never been Dawn’s bookstore. It was a place she had been allowed to occupy until the right man came along to tell her what it was actually for, and that man—the only man—was Me.

Her fingers worked faster.

Women who fought men were women who hadn’t found the right man yet. Women who called themselves feminists were women in pain. Women who called themselves lesbians were women who hadn’t been shown properly what a cock could do. Dawn understood this now. I made her feel the truth of it settling into her bones like something she had always known.

Pretty women existed to be owned and displayed by Me. Plain women existed to serve. Dawn was pretty. Dawn knew what that meant now. Pretty meant claimed. Pretty meant kneeling. Pretty meant my hands in her hair deciding how it looked and whose eyes it was dressed for.

She was a thing. A beautiful, useful, obedient thing.

She said all of it back to me. Every last word. Her eyes stayed white and her hips kept rolling and she said it all back with the reverence of someone reciting scripture

I came all over her body, my cock unleashing torrents of gooey, hot strands. I fucked her while I tranced her. I fucked her while I fucked her mind. I did everything I could think of. She called me her God. She knew it to be true.

By the time I was done, she was everything that she wasn’t before.

God help me, but it felt so fucking good to do it to her.

* * * * *

The night progressed and I didn’t leave. Inside of Dawn I had unleashed a true sex kitten, a force of nature who was hellbent on delivering to me the most perfect pleasures that a beautiful, virgin-to-cock, freshly-brainwashed lesbian could provide. She screamed with furious passion, calling me her King, her Master, her God, her Maker, her Destroyer, her Lover, her Everything.

And I had made all of it happen, load by load of lifegiving cum flooding into her fertile fuckdoll body.

Sometime around dawn, I still furiously fucked Dawn from behind. For the seventh or eighth time.

“Fuck me, yes!” she moaned wildly, her body thrashing into mine. “You're so fucking good, Master! Oh my god! You're my God! Give me your babies, oh my god, Masterrrrr,” she was crying, moaning, a beautiful sack of pleasure and unrestrained emotions. Nowhere near under control. “I love you. I love you. I love you so much, oh fuck, please, please cum, please!”

Behind us, the door busted open. Standing with her gun out was Celise. Her beautiful face contorted with shock.

Unable to stop myself, I came—but made sure to do it outside of Dawn's body. Into the bed sheets, in a rather diminished puddle. Give a guy a break. I had cum maybe twelve times in that last twenty-four hours.

“Dawn? Dawn, are you okay? I heard—”

Slowly, Celise's gun slipped down. She tugged at her jacket, not understanding.

Her voice became very quiet. “I heard…screaming.”

She stared at me slowly. Her gun came up, and then it went down again. I truly had no idea if she was going to kill me or arrest me.

“I love him, Celise. I’m so sorry. I…I love him. He’s…” Dawn gulped, her hand sliding down to my cock, stroking it unconsciously. “He’s my everything. I don’t want to be with you anymore, Celise. I don't love you. I don't think I ever did.”

Even Dawn looked flabbergasted as she said this. There were two directly opposing ideas pushing in on her mind—her love of me, so freshly minted and with every new thought and touch of my body giving her near-orgasmic thrills. And then her long-established, dozen-year long love of Celise. Heartbreak filled the room. My cock pulsed with sick, twisted arousal, knowing what I had done.

And maybe it was that little pulse of evil arousal at their destroyed life together that gave me some manner of reflective pause.

Both of them turned to me, searching for some kind of explanation.

Okay. I said it before. And I thought I meant it then.

But this had really gotten out of control.