Lilly dreamt of a sky swarming with millions of black birds, circling and watching for prey. Lilly knew that she had to keep looking down at her feet to avoid them, because they would carry her away with sharp claws and feed her to their young. They would tear away her skin, and she would grow her own black feathers instead, and be lost in the swarm, and she would be gone, and there would only be the evil black swarm that filled the sky.
Not very subtle, brain, she thought as she woke up -- slowly at first, then very suddenly when she felt something next to her. She took a sharp breath, and calmed down again when she realized that it was Sarah. Sarah was nestling in the narrow bed next to Lilly, still asleep. She must have come over from her own bed in the night.
Holy fuck, I slept in the same room with her! She could have done anything! Lilly realized with a sudden sense of alarm, then immediately regretted the thought. If Sarah had been anything but honest about her state of mind, she would have had plenty of opportunities to stab Lilly in the back. She hadn’t. But she could have, and somehow Lilly had allowed it. The thought made Lilly’s hairs stand up on her arms and legs. Fuck, I even let her get the guns. It seemed that trusting Sarah was a reflex of Lilly’s that still came as natural as breathing, and Lilly felt somehow both good and very concerned about that fact. Good, because she loved Sarah; of course, she did. Concerned, because there was now objectively a lot about Sarah that she should at least be careful, if not outright concerned about.
Reluctantly, her mind went to the place that it had avoided most of the day before. The question she had decided upon in a split second when everything around her had been chaos. She asked herself: What was it like to be a slave, and is it conceivable that Sarah is telling the truth?
With a feeling of jumping into cold water, Lilly remembered the time when she had been a slave. How good it had felt. Looking back at it from the outside made her want to throw up. The things she’d been made to feel. Made to do. Made to enjoy. It was obvious now how wrong and artificial those emotions and needs had been. Remembering was like watching a video of herself as a teen, acting utterly embarrassing. The memory sat in her head utterly wrong and completely indigestible. Her thoughts seemed to slip off the disgusting sense of remembered pride and lust and joy. Somehow, she was physically unable to even fully consider how she’d felt. It was like pushing a needle into her own eyeball.
Some part of her was immensely glad about that. She remembered the pleasure as if through a veil, and it was such an obvious lie. It was so wrong and sickening.
But it had felt real at the time. She remembered that, too, at least abstractly. She would have done anything for Moreau. It would have been inconceivable to do what Sarah had done. What had happened should have been impossible.
But it had happened. Sarah had done it. Somehow. Lilly remembered her tears and the utter look of devastation on Sarah’s face as she had betrayed her own Mistress. She remembered how her hands had trembled, how pale she had been. She remembered how absolutely lost and overwhelmed she had looked.
Somehow, Sarah had done it.
Because she loves me.
Bittersweet warmth spread through Lilly’s heart, and she felt a strange mix of elation and regret. It really seemed like they were together again, and that Sarah was free. But they were effectively on the run from the government now with how deeply the Syndicate had infiltrated every level of the administration.
She wondered if the President was a slave, and a chill went down her spine.
“Hey,” Sarah said softly, rousing Lilly from her thoughts. She’d woken up. Some small part in Lilly tensed, and readied itself for something bad to happen, but Sarah only smiled. She yawned and stretched herself, then cuddled up to Lilly. It was stupidly cute.
“No one snatched us up while we slept.” Sarah said, and her voice was muffled by Lilly’s shirt. “Yay.”
Lilly chuckled softly, and something inside her seemed to loosen up. She wrapped her arm around Sarah’s waist and pulled her tighter.
“I still can’t believe you’re back,” she whispered, and she was surprised how emotional her voice sounded.
”Me neither,” Sarah mumbled. She still sounded sleepy. “I still feel wrong, but I think I’m better. It feels like I’m shedding skin… I’m still raw and it hurts, but it means that I’m healing, you know? Fuck Moreau. Fuck the Syndicate!”
“Fuck everything they’ve done to us,” Lilly said to affirm Sarah.
“I’ll never be their slave again,” Sarah said.
”You’re free. You’re with me. I’m with you.”
“I love you,”
“I love you, too.”
Sarah kissed her, softly at first, and when Lilly kissed her back, Sarah leaned in harder, and Lilly let that happen too. She felt Sarah’s tongue push gingerly against her lips, and she opened them and let it push up against her own tongue. Sarah’s hand had come to hold the small of her back, reeling herself in, pushing deeper before letting Lilly push into her mouth.
Lilly’s hand had wandered down to cup Sarah’s ass without her even realizing it. There was a small, insignificant part in Lilly that told her to stop this -- but she didn’t care, now. She wanted this. Of course she wanted this. She loved her.
The sex was tame and shy-- and more meaningful than any other time she had ever been with her. Lilly’s orgasm couldn’t hope to match the synthetic intensity of the ones that she’d had when Moreau raped her mind. Being a slave had meant raw chemical bliss, detached and wild. But Moreau had never been able to give her the warm, cozy feeling she felt now. This was love and joy and warm sunshine on a spring day, and climaxing at the end of it was almost meaningless when compared to the emotional comfort that it had given her. To be with Sarah again, after everything that had happened, was a miracle.
For a while, she was happy, and nothing else.
Of course, the moment couldn’t last. There was too much to worry about for that.
“We need a plan.” Lilly said, finally. Sarah was in her arms, warm and soft.
“…we’d need a goal first before we can even have a plan,” Sarah said flatly, raising her eyebrows.
Lilly sighed. “Yeah... that, too.”
“I hate to say it, but I don’t think there’s anything we can do to stop the Syndicate,” Sarah said, and Lilly felt herself reluctantly agreeing. She wondered if Moreau was still the Syndicate’s leader. Even if she’d been fucked up by her own drug, she’d probably still be functional and capable to head the organization. She might have developed some interesting neuroses, being… enslaved to herself? And her slaves probably had to do some painful mental gymnastics to deal with her.
Even then—unless she’d somehow lost her mind completely, she’d most certainly be able to reverse it with the anti-serum. She had already tested it on Lilly after all. The stuff worked.
Lilly decided not to mention that line of thought to Sarah. Just in case it would trigger something. For a moment, she fantasized about getting her hands on the anti-serum and freeing the other slaves. But she knew it was a pipe dream. There was no way.
“I hate to say it, but I think you’re right,” she said with a sigh.
“So… where does that leave us? That means we’re on the run forever, doesn’t it?”
Lilly sighed again. “…yeah. I guess it does.”
“So the goal is… not getting discovered, ever.”
Sarah thought for a long moment, then said: “I think we should stay here for a while.”
“If they knew where we are, they would’ve already come knocking -- so it looks like we actually shook them. But by now our biometrics are bound to be flagged in every automated system in the country. We should only travel when we need to, and only in disguise.”
“We’ll need to ditch the car soon, though,“ Lilly said.
“Fuck. Right. Okay. We’ll figure something out.”
They discussed plans for the better part of the day. They had instant ramen for lunch which they prepared and ate straight from an electric water kettle. When they had exhausted every idea and plan of action, they decided to let it sink in a bit and decide what they would do the coming day, after sleeping on it.
“Can we get a less shitty room?” Sarah asked after they had again discussed all important topics and strategies twice over. “With a double bed?”
“Sure, I’m gonna need to extend our stay anyway,” Lilly yawned and donned the baseball cap they had picked up last night at a gas station after making an intentional ninety mile detour to give the appearance that they had turned east. They had also picked up sunglasses for both of them. She grabbed a gun and strapped it into the shoulder holster courtesy of the safe room.
“Maybe they’ve got something with a kitchen,” Sarah said, smiling.
”Don’t get your hopes up,” Lilly said, and left.
Slave Sarah’s smile vanished from her face the second Lilly was out of sight. She quickly grabbed the phone and sent a quick update to Mistress.
Stay extended. Game continues. Thank you so much, Mistress. This is so much fun.
She sent the message, then immediately deleted it. She hid the phone away in her bag. Only then did the smile return to her lips.
Lilly was beginning to trust her. It was only a matter of time now before she would let the last of her guard down. Before she trusted her completely. Before she felt safe. Before she felt that she had won. A pleasant shiver went through slave Sarah’s body. She still couldn’t believe Mistress had agreed to let her play this elaborate game. But unlike Lilly, Mistress could trust her. She was such an obedient slave.
Even pretending to enslave Mistress with the empty injector had felt deeply wrong. And after that, slave Sarah had been afraid that she wouldn’t be able to lie to Lilly convincingly; that pretending not to be a slave would be impossible for her. In that case, they would have had to enslave her again before she felt like she was safe. But it hadn’t come to that. She had found that deceiving Lilly was just as delicious and effortless as licking her cunt.
She loved every minute of it, and something in her enslaved mind was helping her to be convincing. The tears, and the blushing, and all the other things she wanted to pretend were real… they seemed to manifest themselves as a function of her own obedience. She had to be convincing to be a good slave, so she was. The effects of having a chemically controlled brain. Fuck yes.
When Lilly returned, she had indeed managed to get them a bigger room that, aside from the horrible décor, was actually quite decent. It even had a tiny kitchenette. They carried over their bags. It took only one trip. Lilly had hardly closed the door when slave Sarah jumped her and embraced her with a deep kiss.
Slave Sarah wanted to fuck her. Thinking about deceiving and betraying her had made her horny and wet and she wanted Lilly to make her come to the thought.
Lilly wouldn’t know the difference.
She would think that slave Sarah wanted her because she loved her.
Lilly kissed Sarah back hungrily. It was so hard not to. There were some fleeting guilty thoughts of whether there was anything else they should be doing, but nothing came to mind, and she gladly fell into Sarah’s warm embrace. They slowly stripped, and Sarah gave her a heart-melting look of adoration as they moved over to the wide double bed.
“I love you,” Sarah said as she pulled Lilly down onto the mattress and back into her embrace. There was only one answer.
“I love you,” Lilly said, and kissed Sarah. Her hand wandered down between Sarah’s legs carefully, gently. She found Sarah’s pussy soaking wet already, her lips slick and swollen. Again, something in Lilly seemed to rebel, screaming for caution, but Sarah’s soft shivers and moans were like a blanket that enveloped her, making her forget everything else.
“Lilly,” Sarah whimpered softly.
“Yes?” Lilly breathed.
“I… I’m not sure how to say this… but… I feel much better now. Clearer. Firmer. You know, with the raw skin? It doesn’t feel raw anymore. So I… I want us to pretend something…”
“Lilly, do you trust me?” Sarah asked.
“I… I’m sorry Sarah… I—“
“I get it,” Sarah said, voice heavy. She looked crestfallen, her eyes avoiding Lilly’s. “I do…” she said, “I never had the anti-serum. All I had was you,”
“Don’t guilt-trip me,” Lilly said, and pushed herself away from Sarah. “I never wanted any of this. I mean… slave-me did, but I never wanted this. You know what I mean.”
“I’m sorry, Lilly,” Sarah said. “It’s just a lot for me, and I’m not trying to win a contest of who’s more fucked up... but I think I need your help more than you need mine. I want to be with you -- and I want you to be able to trust me.”
Lilly said nothing in response. Her chest felt tight with regret. Nothing Sarah had done had given Lilly any reason to doubt that she was indeed free, even if she might not be completely who she’d been. She owed Sarah to at least share with her the thing that had been nagging her like a bad itch at the back of her mind.
“I want to trust you,” she said. “I really do. With what you did, maybe I should. But… I also know why Moreau woke me up. It was so you could toy with me, to enslave me again, and I can’t ever be sure this isn’t all just a game you’re playing with me.”
“How do you want me to respond to that, Lilly? What can I possibly say? Nothing. Nothing will ever convince you. I don’t even mean that as an insult. You shouldn’t trust my word. You should only trust what I did, and what I want to do. That’s why I was asking you to… pretend something.”
“What do you want me to pretend?”
“To be Moreau,” Sarah said.
“—and let me reject you. I want you to tempt me as hard as you can. Be Moreau. Be slave Lilly. Tell me to obey and tell me to fuck you. I need to prove that I hate it. To you. And maybe to myself. But mostly to you.”
Lilly said nothing for a long moment.
”What if it works instead, and I wake something in you that we don’t want?”
“It won’t. I know it won’t, because I know I’m telling the truth.“
“It still won’t—“
“—prove anything,” Sarah interrupted. “No. Nothing can prove a negative. There’s no proof. There’s only trust. At least tell me you’re willing to try to trust me.”
”Of course I am! I want to trust you! I want it more than anything, Sarah!”
“Okay,” Sarah said. “Go to the bathroom then, and I’ll close my eyes until you come back as Moreau or slave Lilly.”
“So you’re serious. You really want to do this?” Lilly asked with a raised eyebrow. She felt her heart beating in her chest. She was suddenly afraid.
“Yes. Maybe there are other ways to make you trust me, but I can’t think of any. Trust me that I know how I feel. I’m sure of it.”
“I won’t fuck around,” Lilly said, her voice measured like a nurse telling her patient that this was going to hurt. “If you’re telling the truth, but you judged the situation wrong, this might be the end of you.”
“If this breaks me, I would’ve been nothing but a ticking time bomb anyway,” Sarah said.
Lilly considered that awful notion for a moment, then sighed. Sarah had a point.
”I love you,” she said.
“I love you, too,” Sarah answered.
Lilly nodded. She got out of bed, grabbed a backpack, a set of clothes, and went to the bathroom.
Slave Sarah focused her thoughts, and felt her altered brain responding immediately. She made herself tense and shiver, and the sensation she made herself experience felt as real as if she’d just learned of Mistress’s death.
Yes. That was it. That was what she would use. Whoever came out of that bathroom had killed Mistress. She felt hatred and anger rise inside her readily and easily, and the terrible image of losing the one she obeyed made her tense and uncomfortable enough that she could feel any arousal drain from her and dry up into a cold rage.
The door opened. Sarah had her eyes closed, but she heard footsteps approaching the bed. She tensed. She knew what that person had done, and she hated her.
“Slave Sarah,” Mistress’s voice came from behind her, and for a moment, slave Sarah tensed like it had been the real thing. Lilly’s impression was that good. For a fleeting moment, she admired her, before the hatred returned. Lilly had killed her and was now pretending to be her. Cunt.
She screamed, twisting around. “No! How did you find us? What happened to Lilly? What did you do to her, you fucking bitch?!” She felt her face flush as she screamed. It was easy to separate her words from what she was actually imagining.
Lilly was wearing black combat fatigues. She spoke with Mistress’s subtle French accent, and her timbre was uncanny.
”Lilly is in the bathroom,” she said. “becoming a slave.”
It was Mistress who was in the bathroom, and she was dead. “No!” slave Sarah cried bitterly, and for a fleeting moment, she saw a crack in Lilly’s façade before she caught herself and became the impostor again. A deep part of slave Sarah felt proud of how deceptive she was.
“Quiet, slave!” the monster hissed. “I’ll have anyone killed that enters this hotel room. Do you want them to die? Non? Then be quiet.”
Slave Sarah pursed her lips angrily. The sick impostor would kill her fellow slaves if she was too loud.
“I’m not your slave,” slave Sarah growled with a cold fury. “I’m not anyone’s slave!” Because Mistress was dead. Her heart ached with desperation. How could this be happening to her?
“But you are, slave Sarah,” the murderer said as she stepped closer. She was trying to sound kind and reassuring. “You just have to remember that you want to obey.”
”Never!” she screamed. She would never obey this fucking bitch. There was only one person that owned her. “I’d rather die. You took everything from me! There’s nothing left now! Please, don’t make me go back to the way I was.” The monster wanted to take her obedience from her, wanted to make her hate Mistress and make her deny everything she was. Deny that she was a slave.
”You are mine, slave Sarah,” the impostor said in her sick imitation of the woman slave Sarah could no longer serve. She felt sick.
“I know you want it, slave,” the lying murderer said with a husky voice. “I know how much you want to cum for me. To have that pleasure again. All you have to do is listen to it. You can be my slave again. It will feel so good. It will be so easy. Submit.”
“Go to hell you pathetic piece of shit!”
Lilly drew a gun, and slave Sarah’s heart skipped a beat. She knew the gun was real, and she could tell that it was loaded. For a moment, actual doubt broke through the carefully orchestrated emotions she was making herself feel. Holy shit, she really doesn’t fuck around.
She shivered and tensed before she spoke. She didn’t have to play being afraid for the next part.
“Do it.” she said.
Lilly’s finger was on the trigger, and for a short, desperate moment a tiny part of her actually considered doing it. Her heart was hammering in her chest so painfully that it felt like it was doing more harm than good to her body.
Sarah had surprised her by how emotional she had been able to get. It felt real. It really did. The only thing that made her know that they were playing was the fact that Sarah hadn’t jumped out of bed and wrestled her to the ground. Lilly had never had much of a chance when sparring with her. If this was real, Sarah would already have her in a headlock. She looked down the barrel at the woman she loved.
“You’re no use dead.” she forced herself to say in Moreau’s accent, and held up two pairs of handcuffs. Sarah had packed multiple pairs for some reason. “Put these on.”
Sarah resisted -- as much as she could without escalating the roleplay to the point where the only place they could go was actual violence. Through much swearing and protesting to the point of actual tears, Lilly cuffed her to the bed posts.
“I thought you were my slave, Sarah” she said, making it sound disappointed, “If I had known, I would have brought more than one injector. I used it up on slave Lilly. I’ll have to fetch another one, now. You won’t go anywhere, oui? Don’t worry. You’ll be my obedient slave, Sarah. You’ll be my eager, wet slut.”
The words passed straight through Lilly, barely able to leave marks. They went straight to a place in her mind that was closed-off. A place she knew how to ignore. It was where she kept all the bad things she’d ever had been forced to do as a means to an end.
“Meanwhile, I think slave Lilly will keep you company.”
The impostor left the room. Slave Sarah wished her nothing but death and pain. When she had vanished from sight, slave Sarah felt herself ease out of the pretense.
She would need something else to channel now. It would be harder this time, but she managed to find something: Lilly will pretend to be a slave, but she isn’t. She’s actually Mistress, who doesn’t want me to be her slave anymore. She has come to hate being my owner, and she refuses to make me obey. All she ever tells me now is to be free.
It was convoluted to be sure, but she could already feel a palpable mix of frustration and sadness well up within her.
The bathroom door opened, and slave Lilly walked in. Again, slave Sarah had to suppress a gasp. It really was no wonder that Lilly had been their go-to undercover agent when the Division still existed. Lilly was naked again, and everything about her screamed sex.
She was doing something subtle with the way she held herself, from the way her head tilted forward like that of a predator on the hunt to the way she swayed her hips as she walked like there was a constant impulse within her to spread her legs.
Mistress doesn’t want me to obey anymore, slave Sarah reminded herself. Her heart fell into a black hole deep in her chest. “Please, no. Oh God, no. Not again,” she cried. She almost tripped over the last part, but she had remembered just in time that she would have to say it to make it appear right.
“Well done Sarah,” Lilly said with a wicked smile, “you tricked me.”
“No,” slave Sarah cried. A tear rolled down her cheek. Mistress thought she wanted this, too. How could she think that? It was sickening. Sarah lived to serve and obey. How could Mistress take that from her?
“Lilly…” she sobbed.
Lilly squeezed her tits and moaned. She took two steps forward, and crawled onto the bed. ”Lilly’s gone,” she said. “Your plan worked. She was nothing but our little toy, and now she’s gone again. I am a slave.”
She reached between slave Sarah’s legs with her hand, and slave Sarah twisted and turned. If Mistress could arouse her, it would mean that she agreed not to be a willing slave. She couldn’t allow it to happen. She needed to obey.
Lilly wedged herself between slave Sarah’s legs, holding them down with her hands. Slave Sarah had bad leverage and was unable to stop it.
”No,” slave Sarah begged, crying hard now. “Please. Please…”
Slave Lilly didn’t listen. She kept on talking. “I am nothing but a slave. I obey. I serve,” she said, “I live to cum for my Mistress. Obeying makes me wet. Obeying makes me want to cum. Fuck Lilly—she’s dead! Well done, slave. You killed her. You—“
“Safeword! Safeword!” Slave Sarah screeched.
Lilly recoiled, head instantly swimming with regret. Fuck, I took it too far. She swallowed heavily. She looked down at Sarah, blood pumping in her ears. She felt suddenly nauseous. Sarah’s face was streaked with tears. There was snot running out of her nose. Holy fuck!
“I… I’ll get the keys!” she stuttered, and scrambled out of bed. Half a minute later, she was undoing the cuffs with trembling hands. Her throat felt like she had swallowed a bucket of thumbtacks.
“I’m sorry,” she said for what must be the tenth time. “I’m so sorry.”
“No,” Sarah said weakly. “No! It’s… I’m okay now.” Her eyes were still moist, but her breathing had leveled. Lilly could tell that she was pulling herself together. Lilly had never felt as guilty as she did now, for more reasons than she liked.
Twenty minutes later, they were sitting across from each other at a table. Sarah had wrapped herself in a blanket despite the summer heat. Lilly had made her a cup of tea, which she was cradling in her hand. None of them spoke. None of them had said anything in quite a while. The only audible sound was the not-so-distant noise of the interstate.
Finally, Sarah broke the silence.
”Holy shit, that got real.”
“Yeah,” Lilly said flatly. “It did.”
There was another long pause. Lilly knew exactly what she wanted to say. She’d wanted to say it the whole time, but getting the words out felt like trying to topple over an office building.
Fuck it, just say it, she thought. She swallowed, then spoke.
”I tried everything, and you were still as dry as the desert.”
Sarah snorted, then shook her head, and a smile appeared on her face, then turned into a frown. When she finally answered, her voice was tiny and vulnerable.
“I told you,” she said with an apologetic smile. “I managed to break something inside of me when I pushed that injector into Moreau and made her a slave. Whatever made me obey couldn’t deal with what I did, and it all unraveled, and it’s gone now. Fuck Moreau, fuck the Syndicate. I hate them. I hate what they did to us. I’m free and I will stay free even if it means shooting myself in the fucking mouth.”
“I believe you,” Lilly said, and she meant it. She did. For all the right reasons, and for all the wrong ones. Sarah had done nothing but act like she was free, and she was warm and affirming and reassuring, and it felt so good to be with her again. But Lilly also selfishly needed it to be true, because the alternative was just too awful to consider.
But in the end, it all came down to one simple, stupid fact:
Sarah just wasn’t that good of an actress. She could never have faked this.
Lilly reached out across the table, offering Sarah her hand. Sarah took it and squeezed her firmly, like a salesman after successfully making a pitch. She smiled, and so did Lilly. They were finally on the same page. Well… not quite.
“There’s just one hitch,” Lilly said and Sarah raised her eyebrows. Lilly’s smile was that of someone who was about to explain how they had accidentally switched the results of an important test. She swallowed hard.
“The last bit kinda sorta turned me on… a lot.”
After a very long pause, Sarah laughed incredulously. “Are you serious?” she asked.
“I know,” Lilly said, “it’s so fucked up.”
“So you’re telling me that I had to emotionally torture myself in order to convince you I wasn’t a slave anymore… and meanwhile, you get wet when you think of being a slave again?”
“No! Oh God, no! I don’t want that at all!”
“You don’t? So what do you mean, then?” she asked.
“It’s like… Buried between all the horrible things, I still remember the fucking orgasms I had when I was a slave. The feeling of being just so goddamn turned on all the time. The feeling of truly not caring who got to fuck me, of being this constantly horny slut…“
“Being enslaved is the most terrifying and disgusting thing in the world, but I can’t forget how good it felt. When I think about what happened to Kate and Sophie and all the others, it makes me want to throw up. But… when I pretended to be slave Lilly, it felt like I was getting all the good stuff without the bad stuff. I knew I still was in control. Knowing that it’s only a game makes all the difference.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” Sarah said skeptically.
“I know. I don’t even know what about it I liked so much. But I did.”
Sarah sighed. “I love you, Lilly. But that’s pretty messed up.”
“I know. Sorry.”
Sarah cradled her forehead in her fingertips, gently shaking her head.
“So, if we did that again, you’d enjoy it?” she finally said, after what felt like a solid minute.
Lilly hesitated. Would she? She felt so guilty and perverted. Something had to be wrong with her brain. This was fucked. What Moreau had done to her had dealt some lasting damage, like some childhood trauma giving someone a thing for licking door handles.
But that was just the thing. Once you had your kink, it wouldn’t buff out.
“Yeah, I think I would,” Lilly said, head bowed in quiet shame.
“Do you want to do it right now?” Sarah said, and Lilly’s insides did a painful summersault. She looked up. Sarah was smiling sympathetically.
“Yes,” Lilly admitted after a long moment.
“Okay. But there’s one condition,” Sarah said, her voice at once coy and very, very serious. “I need to be in control. I can’t be slave Sarah. I need that distance. I need to be your Mistress. Is that okay?”
Lilly considered, then nodded. Something inside her had fallen into place, and she had made a decision. She trusted Sarah.
“Yes, Mistress,” Lilly said, smiling hungrily as the heat bloomed between her legs.
The room was dark again now that the display was turned off. In the darkness, slave Sarah idly played with her clit as she waited for Mistress to answer. She had deleted her own outgoing message already, but the words were still clear in her mind:
Endgame tomorrow evening. Await my word. Thank you so much, Mistress!
The cell phone chimed as the message came in, and slave Sarah frantically slid it into the gap of her mattress. She must have accidentally unmuted it. She held her breath and listened. But next to her, Lilly kept still.
“Are you awake? Did you hear that?” slave Sarah asked, quietly enough not to wake Lilly but loud enough to be heard if she was awake. Slave Sarah counted to one hundred, repeated the question, got no answer, and counted to one hundred a second time. When she was sure Lilly was still asleep, she retrieved the phone and looked at the message.
You’re a very good slave. I am pleased.
Slave Sarah came. She had to bite down on her fingers to stop herself from moaning.
She looked at the message for another couple of minutes before she was able to bring herself to delete it.
She knew that she should go to sleep, but her thoughts were still restless. All of this was just… so good. This new life as a slave. She got to fuck and obey. She got to cum just from being told. She got to enslave others, and cum from that, too. She felt her nipples harden again. She thought of Lilly, and her hands almost returned to the wet slit between her legs. But she stopped herself. She really needed to sleep. She was actually really tired. She turned to her side and tried to let her thoughts drift into sleep.
She thought of Lilly instead.
There were two Lillys in her mind.
The first one was the one that had been Mistress’s slave, and would be again. The slave that had helped kill and enslave the division. The first of them to fall, the first of them to serve. The one that had eagerly and joyfully betrayed them. Betrayed her own lover.
The second one was the one that she had been, before Moreau had taken her. The woman she had once fallen in love with. The woman that had fought against Moreau. Against the Syndicate. Against enslavement.
That old Lilly was back. Slave Sarah had made sure of it. She had made her believe. Made her believe that she was actually free. Made her believe that they had escaped. Made her believe that she was anything but their toy. And because Lilly believed it, it had become true. If they had just enslaved her immediately again, back in the mansion, she would have been just that: A toy. A diversion. A kicking, screaming bitch that knew exactly what was coming. It would have been over before it had started.
But not anymore. Now, it was truly her. Lilly. Her girlfriend. Her lover. A division agent on the run. She had dreams. She had hopes. She had love. She had Sarah.
At least, that’s what she believed.
Slave Sarah’s pussy tingled pleasantly when she remembered how Lilly had pretended to be a slave earlier, thinking it was nothing but an impossibly dark kink instead of delicious irony. It had been an unexpected wrinkle that slave Sarah hadn’t planned for, but it actually worked out perfectly in addition to being hot as fuck. Of course, she had more or less immediately agreed to the roleplay, only feigning reluctance for as long as she had to. She had quickly made up something about how she would be fine with it as long as she got to be Mistress, because that would feel the safest and least real, and Lilly had believed her and agreed. When they had gone to bed together and slave Sarah had pretended to be Mistress, slave Sarah had intentionally kept the roleplay light to make Lilly crave more of it come tomorrow evening.
Slave Sarah had also made sure to be generous with her usage of ‘I love you’ afterwards. It really was Lilly’s weak spot.
It also wasn’t a lie, per se. She just loved being a slave so much more than she had ever loved her.
For the rest of the evening, Lilly had again and again felt the need to apologize and justify why pretending to be a slave turned her on. She had gone on and on about how she could only enjoy it because she knew that she was actually still in control, and safe. About how it was not about being controlled and actually about being uninhibited. Slave Sarah had listened and pretended to care when actually, she only cared about one thing. The one thing that she had been working toward. The one thing that would make it so much better when she finally pushed that injector into Lilly’s neck:
Lilly trusted her.