Vicky was a fucking wizard with her tongue. Getting her cunt licked by her made Eva squeal and shiver. Vicky seemed to know exactly how quick and how hard, and she made Eva come so fucking hard. In the final moments before Vicky’s tongue made her peak, Eva imagined the other slave at Emily’s knees, smiling and thanking Eva for brainwashing her – and the fetish for enslavement that had been raped into the core of Eva’s mind screamed with urgent satisfaction. Yesss! They were all meant to serve! Meant to obey! Meant to be used! 

Eva screamed and moaned and trembled, and grasped for Vicky’s hand, holding it tightly as her body exploded with ecstasy. It took her half a minute to stop giggling.

“Holy shit,” she finally managed to say. “That was amazing.”

“What’s the magic word?,” Vicky asked with an arrogant smirk, and Eva scoffed. It wasn’t like Eva hadn’t furiously fucked Vicky with her own tongue before Vicky had returned the favor. Eva still tasted Vicky’s cunt. Vicky hadn’t said shit when Eva was done fucking her, and now she expected Eva to thank her?

“Fuck you,” she said with a chuckle.

Vicky slapped her. 

“Wrong answer, bitch.” Vicky said, still smiling. “Try again.”

Eva stared at Vicky with a half-open mouth. The slap definitely hadn’t been as hard as Vicky could dish out – but more than hard enough to sting. A shiver went down Eva’s spine. Her cheek was throbbing gently, feeling slightly hot, and she wasn’t sure if that sudden feeling in her gut was fear – or excitement.

She swallowed down everything else she wanted to say, and nodded meekly.

“Thank you,” she whispered, and managed to smile. 

For a moment, it had felt so fucking wrong to say those words to Vicky. Vicky, who wanted her to betray Emily. Vicky, who wanted to take her will and make her into her submissive lapdog. Vicky, who had literally slapped her in the face. Vicky the arrogant, selfish, magnificent bitch. 

But then she had imagined all of Vicky’s ferocity, shackled and subjugated to serve Emily, and it had been easy to give up her own dignity. Anything for Emily. Anything for her enslaver.

“Very good,” Vicky said and gently patted Eva on the cheek. Eva managed not to flinch. “Now get the fuck out of my quarters, you hot piece of ass. I need to sleep. Fuck you soon.”

Eva chortled. “Yeah. Fuck you, soon.”

And with that, she was just about to get out of Vicky’s bed and made her way home – but then she remembered something. Fuck. She had almost forgotten.

She tried to sound casual, or at least convincing: “One more thing, Vicky…”

“We’re done here, I’m tired.”

Eva bit her lip. Should she push it? She didn’t have time to wait. She might be playing at being submissive, and part of her might even enjoy it, but the correction of her not-quite correct brainwashing was looming with every passing hour. Waiting one more day might cost her the opportunity she needed.

“Please, Vicky,” she begged. “I just wanted to ask you something.”

Vicky let out an exasperated gasp. “What?!”

Eva looked her in the eyes. “When I saw you today, brainwashing Mary, it made me so fucking hot. I know I’m still new, but I wanted to ask if… you could teach me, like you taught Emily.”

“No fucking chance,” Vicky said, and Eva’s insides tightened. “I’m not going to teach any slave again unless Mistress commands me. I’m not making that mistake again and have some stupid fucking cunt like Emily fuck up and make me look bad by association just because Laura or anyone else asked nicely.”

It took Eva everything not to slip into a fit of rage. She took a deep breath and swallowed down her anger. “I understand,” she said. “But I’m not Emily. She… she’s never been too bright. Honestly she got lucky to find a halfway-decent job in L.A.”

Vicky scoffed. “Nope. Not gonna happen, Eva.”

“Can I watch, then?” Eva asked. “Just be there with you when you make them think what Mistress wants? Please?”

She needed some excuse to be around Vicky. Otherwise she would never get the chance to make her move on her. Fuck. This was a house of cards. She would only have one chance. 

“You really think you’re special, don’t you?” Vicky said, her voice dripping with mockery. 

Eva shrugged and raised her eyebrows. “Only because you made me feel special,” she retorted. “Or are you telling me all of this would have happened if I had been just another slave to you?”

Vicky said nothing.

“Here’s what I think,” said Eva. “You want to have special ownership over me. You basically said it to my face. You want to show everyone how much better you can brainwash me than Emily. You want to take me away from her simply because you can; make yourself my enslaver, second only to Mistress Devanshi.”

Eva could swear that she could see a shiver of arousal wash over Vicky. Good. She just might get to her through the thing that she knew was guaranteed to be part of Vicky’s personality: Her brainwashed core. No matter how willful and self-righteous, at her core she was still just as much of an enslaved slut as Eva. And she knew how to push those buttons.

“I can’t stop you,” Eva continued. “I’ll become your slut. You can make me hate Emily. You can make me forget her.”

Vicky licked her lips. “You fucking bet I can,” she said with a lopsided grin.

Eva managed to turn her reflexive grimace into a smile. “All I ask is to also be your apprentice. Make me into Mistress’s tool. Make me enslave others. Please!”

Some part of Eva quietly wondered if she was making sure that she’d get the best consolation prize in case she lost. Fuck, the idea of turning someone against their friend and making them brainwash other was so fucking good… if it wasn’t Emily who would suffer because of it.

Eva looked at Vicky with pleading eyes, and after what felt like minutes Vicky finally let out a small sigh. “You’re up Saturday,” she said with a thin smile. “I’ll be reinforcing two other slaves that day before it’s your turn. You can help me with them before I make you my rutting little bitch.”

“Thank you so much,” Eva said, and again it was barely a lie.

Vicky nodded. For a moment her eyes were hungry, and Eva could imagine all the perverted things the other slave must be thinking right now. Then, Vicky waved her hand.

“And now get the fuck out of my room, you’ve been keeping me awake long enough.”

This time, Eva didn’t need to be told twice.

There was little else to do than to go to sleep once she’d arrived at her apartment. She had resisted driving to the enslavement basement again. Now that she knew there was another enslavement chamber at the compound, that plan had become mostly obsolete. She had picked up some late-night junk food on the way instead, and eaten it in the parking lot. She answered a few direct messages from friends she no longer cared about, trying to strike the appropriate balance of being placating and distant. It took maybe ten minutes. Then she went to bed.

She dreamt of Emily.

In her dream, they were in Devanshi’s office. Devanshi had found out about Eva’s secret but Emily hadn’t, and in the logic of the dream Eva knew that the moment that Emily found out about Eva’s secret, Eva would become Devanshi’s slave. 

Eva tried to talk to Emily, to keep her distracted. In the dream, Devanshi was too polite to interrupt them as long as Eva managed to keep the conversation going, as long as she managed to keep Emily’s attention.

“We shouldn’t be here,” Emily said, and Eva knew that she was right. They had both missed their first clients, and Eva was torn between guilt and duty towards Emily. She needed to be used – but she also needed to protect Emily. She was naked, of course, and her body was screaming to be fucked. She needed it so bad. But she mustn’t! The moment she gave in, she would lose Emily forever, and fail her more badly than she had ever failed anyone. 

She had to keep talking to her – so she told her how good of a slave she was. She told her how proud she was that Emily served so well. Over and over again, she repeated the painful lies she had to tell to keep Emily safe. But part of her liked saying it. The same part of her that wanted to stop talking and run to her fuck chamber. The same part of her that throbbed between her legs. The same part of her that shivered with joy whenever it thought about anyone being enslaved. The part of her that knew how hot it was when people became property.

And then she slipped up. 

It felt at once horrible and inevitable. She had stopped talking because for a moment it had just felt too good and too tempting to simply enjoy the feeling between her legs: That certainty that she wanted nothing more than to serve; that absolute knowledge that she had been brainwashed – and the joy of realizing that she loved it more than anything.

But that moment had been too long. Mistress Devanshi filled the silence.

“Emily,” Devanshi said, and Eva’s heart was racing. The world felt like it was about to collapse. There was nothing that Eva could do anymore. She had lost. She had let the moment slip. Once Devanshi had begun talking, it was too late.

“Yes, Mistress.”

“You are mine.”

“I am yours. I live to obey. We all live to obey. We are whores. We are slaves. We are property.”

Emily turned to Eva. She knew, now. She knew Eva’s secret.

“We are hers,” she said, and it all became good. Eva was at her knees, between Devanshi’s legs, serving, smiling, happily obeying. In the dream, Eva had both forgotten about Emily – and was at the same time aware that she had forgotten, but in a way that changed nothing at all. 

Emily walked away to be raped and used, and dream-Eva didn’t care. 

Dream-Eva didn’t look back. 

Dream-Eva cared only about serving the one that had enslaved Emily. 

Emily screamed, and Eva liked the sound. Emily was obeying. Emily was serving. It felt so good not to care. It felt so good to see property being used. It felt so good to feel only joy. Mistress had won. Anything for her. Anything for Mistress Devanshi! Anything for the one that took her will once and for all!

Mistress had a knife. Nothing about that was strange. Dream-Eva took it. She turned around. Emily was there. She was spent. She was crying. Dream-Eva didn’t care at all. Emily was property. The thought made dream-Eva wet. She loved it so much.

Dream-Eva didn’t need to be told what to do. She was nothing but Mistress Devanshi’s will, without judgment nor hesitation. She stepped forward toward Emily, looking down at her crying friend.

Betraying her was effortless. She raised the knife, and brought it down, and–

–she woke up with a start, shivering, heart beating, a terrible taste in the back of her throat.

“Fuck,” she sighed voicelessly. The nightmare was still fresh, and she felt the adrenaline and all the other hormones in her blood, quite real and quite unignorable. Holy shit, what a fucked-up dream. What the hell, brain?

And then she realized that her panties were soaking wet.

For a moment, she felt shame. And then, an absurd sense of deeply conflicted pride. And then shame again. 

On one hand, she must be was such a good and brainwashed slave to be turned on by all that fucked-up shit she’d been dreaming about. On the other hand… well, everything else.

She reminded herself that nightmares are the brain’s way of preparing for how to deal with terrible situations. Scenarios it didn’t want to happen.

Then why did she still get warm tingles when she remembered how it felt to be enslaved to betray Emily?

Because that’s exactly how it would feel, like it or not, she told herself. If I lose, I’ll be a happy little slut. And if it actually happened, Devanshi wasn’t going to make her actually fucking kill Emily. No. That part had been just, like, a really unsubtle metaphor.

She sighed and looked at the time. There was an hour left before her alarm went off, but there was no way she was going to go back to sleep, if only to avoid continuing the nightmare.

She made breakfast, and went over her to-dos again. There really wasn’t much left right now, however. Ending her old life sadly wasn’t something she could do all at once, like writing an essay in a thirty-six hour session fueled by Monster Energy like she had done that one time in college. No. The main ingredient here was going to be time.

She took a sip of coffee, momentarily lost in thought. She wondered if she was ever going to use her business degree ever again. Hell, she wondered if Devanshi’s corporation would pay off her remaining student loans. They would have to. That had to be part of cutting the ties and burying the paper trail. There was something amusing about that.

She liked to imagine that she was a better slave because of her degree. There were definitely men that were attracted to more educated women, and with Sam she’d already served one that wanted to talk to her and not just fuck her. She thought of herself as pretty smart, and as someone that was good at understanding and following directions. That had to be worth something.

Or maybe she was just rationalizing the feeling in her groin, the one that she got when she thought about people being enslaved. The feeling that told her that it was even hotter to enslave someone smart and bright and successful. The more they had to lose, the hotter it was to turn them into property. 

She smiled to herself. Holy shit. I’m so fucking brainwashed.

She went back to bed, not to sleep, but to masturbate. 

Back at the compound, Eva’s days of being broken in were over. No one was paying the surcharge for a freshly enslaved whore anymore. That meant that for the rest of her week, she was going to only fuck other slaves. Next time she offered her body to a paying client, she was going to be a trained whore worth the money.

It was Tuesday. She had been enslaved on Saturday. From today until Friday, her basic training was going to be in full swing. And on Saturday… she was going to be with Vicky – for ‘advanced training’.

Patricia made Eva continue with anal. Today it only went for a short while, though. There was lots of lube and easing in. Patricia wasn’t going soft on Eva by any stretch, but there was no point in pushing Eva too hard and damaging the merchandise. Eva had never done it before yesterday, but she was more than glad to have another hole to be fucked in, and looked forward to getting better and better with it. She already felt more comfortable taking it in the ass than the day before.

Andrew wasn’t here today. Instead of him, a slave called Giorgio was the one fucking her today. He had rougher hands and more body hair than Andrew, but just as much stamina and just as little shame to use Eva’s body. His cock was a bit smaller, which felt like it might be the reason for the substitution. They did both from the front and from behind, not really fucking and more gently acclimating her body. Like yesterday, Patricia and Giorgio were very forthcoming with verbal assistance on how to take it and relax her muscles. It tingled Eva’s nethers to imagine the both of them bent over, serving. It was a little bit strange to imagine in Giorgio’s case. He looked so much like a top. Maybe that was the appeal – getting to top someone like him.

Patricia told them to stop when Eva thought that she might still be able to keep going for a while. She felt a bit sore, but she wasn’t going to chicken out. But Patricia knew best – and it wasn’t like they were done for the day. Just for this lesson. They both took a shower and quickly resumed with oral and handjobs. Giorgio had surprisingly different needs than Andrew, and Eva was immediately eager to find the best way to make him cum into her mouth. This time, however, there was more feedback from Patricia and her fuck partner than just on the way she was making him feel. 

“No, bend at the hip, not at the knees! That way your tits are going to swing more! And spread your legs more. Never have them closed unless commanded to! Always let them see all of you!”

It almost felt like dance class. Patricia told her to keep her shoulders back, told her to keep her chin up. It was all part of being the perfect desirable whore. Eye contact. Measured moans. Taking the dick out her mouth to smile and show how much she wanted it. There was always an opportunity to give more of herself, to present herself more intensely, more enthusiastically.

After another hour or two Giorgio left – and they still weren’t done. Patricia continued drilling her on ways to sit, ways to lie down, ways to walk, ways to kiss. It was so fucking hot. Eva was utterly certain that Patricia must be enjoying this, too. After all, she was also a brainwashed whore. Whatever enjoyment her trainer got out of this, however, Patricia was hardly showing any of it. She was professional to a t, never easing off, never getting carried away. It helped Eva to stay focussed, too. However pleasurable this might be, first and foremost it was training; work. Eva was property. A sex slave. And she needed to be the best one she could be.

She just hoped that eventually, she would be owned by the right person.

She had an hour of rest before her training was scheduled to continue. So far it had been less physically taxing, but instead demanded a lot of focus and attention. She hit the showers, both to get off the sweat as well as an opportunity to take a good fifteen minutes to relax under some nice hot water. 

She used the communal showers. The ones in her fuck chamber was nice enough but pretty utilitarian and claustrophobic. These felt almost like a cathedral in comparison, or rather a temple of more pagan persuasion, where the acolytes worshiped the bodies of their fellow believers, to honor the Goddess to which they wholly belonged.

Eva was no stranger to the odd philosophical thought, and the monumental way in which not only her own life but her whole understanding of the universe had changed (or rather: had been made to change) was giving her more deep thinks than usual. She wondered if any of this would ever become normal, or if her conditioning would forever keep her as excited and zealous about being a slave as was now. If they could rewire her whole sex drive and value judgments, what was to say that she couldn’t be made to endlessly be in awe?

The great thing was that she was going to find it all out.

“Hey, Eva” a voice said, and Eva flinched slightly before turning to see who had spoken. The words had been curt, almost shy. Another female slave had entered the showers and found her own showerhead, tentatively checking the temperature before stepping into the stream.

For the briefest of moments, Eva didn’t recognize her without her hospitality uniform. Then it clicked. 

“Hey, Mary,” she said.

Mary gave a little wave. She had her back half-turned, arms folded tightly. Something about that seemed odd until Eva realized that Mary might not be conditioned to shamelessly show off her body. She might actually be ashamed to be looked at.

Eva averted her gaze to be polite, but the shameless part that very definitely and emphatically existed in her felt a little disappointed. Mary was very nice to look at. Eva had already gotten to see quite a lot of her actually, yesterday, in the conditioning room. The memory made Eva’s pussy tingle. Mary’s thoughts had been shut off. She had been completely suggestible. Pliable. Usable.

Eva caught herself, and felt suddenly conflicted about the way she had been thinking about Mary. One one hand, Mary probably wouldn’t object to being called property. She wouldn’t deny that she lived only to be used. But on the other hand, Mistress Devanshi had decided for her not to be something that existed to be fucked. That part of her wasn’t part of her enslavement. And Eva wanted to respect that, didn’t she? She had so many memories of how bad it felt to be objectified by men, of being leered at, of feeling reduced to only her body.

She decided that she still respected it. Even if that wasn’t entirely her anymore. Even if it went against the hot urge between her legs. She tried not to think about Mary’s spread legs, and the steel vibrator between her pussy lips, fucking away her thoughts and her resistance, sweating and moaning and–

Fuck! Stop it you pervert! Dammit!

“All good?” she asked, if only to distract herself from her brainwashed train of thought.

“Yes,” Mary said after a moment. “Didn’t expect anyone to be here at this time. Fuck slaves usually use their own showers.”

“Wanted something more relaxing,” Eva said.

“Understandable. First weeks are always crazy.”

“Tell me about it.”

Mary chuckled, and Eva caught a short glance in her direction. Mary was still half-turned away from her, elbows drawn in, forearms around her chest. But she was looking over her shoulder, towards Eva. Their eyes met for a moment, and Mary seemed to blush. She quickly looked away, and so did Eva.

“Do you want me to shut up?” Eva asked.

There was a pause.

“No. I’m just being silly. I know it’s absurd to be… you know… shy… in front of anyone.”

“You didn’t seem shy when I first met you. You didn’t even have a problem talking about sex.”

“I know. I know. I guess I feel more confident in a uniform.”

“Well, this is my uniform,” Eva said. That got a chuckle out of Mary. Eva caught another clance, and again their eyes met, this time for longer. Eva had the strange feeling that Mary had been giving her way more than passing glances.

She looked away again, and there was a short pause before Mary spoke. “So… how about you? How’re you dealing with your new existence?”

Now it was Eva’s turn to chuckle. ‘Existence’ was quite the apt choice of word. Under basically any other circumstances, it would have been an exaggeration. But not in this one.

“I love it.”

“Yeah, of course you love it. That’s not what I mean,” Mary said. Eva could definitely hear an eye-roll in the way she said it. 

Eva took a breath. “It’s a lot,” she said. “My muscles are aching all over, and I’m tired, and I’m constantly afraid to fuck up.”

Wow. Where had that come from?

Another short pause. Eva filled the silence. “But it’s all worth it. I get to be used. I get to offer myself. I get to serve. Patricia tells me that I’m taking well to my training, and I’m ahead of schedule with cutting myself off from the world. I’ll pick up my shit from work tomorrow.”

“Awesome,” Mary said. She sounded utterly sincere, which despite everything still felt like such a strange thing after what Eva had just told her. “That’s so great to hear. I…”

Again, there was a pause. Eva looked at Mary and found that the other slave had turned her body a bit more toward Eva. She was still standing with her arms folded in front of her chest, and her legs half-crossed, but she was squarely looking at Eva now, and didn’t look away when their eyes met.

“I’m glad you’re doing well with… everything that happened. I… was there when Emily…”

She trailed off, and Eva felt a rush of pain and adrenaline when she remembered with prickling intensity that Mary had been the one to take Emily to the clinic. She swallowed heavily, unsure for a moment of what to say.

“I know that Emily served, and I’m glad that she did, but… I’m not conditioned like you. Not as… zealous. I’m so sorry that it happened.”

Eva shivered. She had to weigh her words carefully. ‘Zealous’. Yup. Again, that was definitely the right word for the way she and her fellow fuck slaves had been brainwashed to be.

“Just because it turns me on when we get raped and abused doesn’t mean that I don’t appreciate that it’s wrong,” Eva said. “I think if we were that far gone we would be too psychopathic to be sexy.”

Mary smiled weakly. “Yeah, I guess Mistress Devanshi knows how to bend us without completely breaking us.”

“It’s so good to serve her,” she lied instinctively. It seemed like the newbie slave thing to blurt out at the mention of her name.

Mary smiled an utterly sincere smile of adoration and awe, and it was a chilling reminder that even she was, in the end, the tool of Eva’s enemy. “We’re made to obey,” she said, again without even the slightest trace of irony. She might be less zealous, but that didn’t mean that she was any less of a true believer than Vicky or any of the others.

Mary’s smile quickly faded, however, and her expression became thoughtful. She looked down, and it felt like she was hesitating to say whatever she had on her mind.

After what felt like a solid twenty seconds, she looked at Eva again. “So… Emily and you...”

“...yeah?”

“Are you, like… a couple?”

Something in Eva tensed, and her thoughts started racing with all the possible implications of that particular extremely loaded question. The way Mary had said it... it was obvious that she wasn't just asking out of idle curiosity. Eva also realized that even if the question had been innocent, it wasn’t actually easy to answer. What exactly were they now? They hadn’t been a couple before. Sure, Eva was reasonably bi, and so was Emily, but there had never been anything between the two of them but deep friendship. They’d known each other since high school, spent holidays together, held and comforted the other after break-ups, and yes, loved each other. But never… like that. But now, with all of their shame removed, brainwashed and enslaved, there was no question that they would fuck. Emily made her so fucking hot. She was her enslaver. Eva would do anything for her. She loved her so much. 

And yet…

Eva couldn’t honestly say that they were a couple, or even lovers. At least, not yet. Did she want that? Did she want to be with Emily? If they hadn’t been a couple before, why now? Just because they were fucking? Eva was fucking more than five other people every day. Was she just a horny, shameless slut that liked to fuck anyone and anything, a brainwashed slave that loved her enslaver, but not Emily? There might be quite a lot of truth to that. 

And that wasn’t even all of it. If everything went Eva’s way, Emily would end up being her Mistress, and a big part of Eva loved the idea of kneeling at her feet so much more than being with her; of being one of hundreds of slaves, just another brainwashed whore. That wasn’t even part of how she felt about Emily, but part of her conditioned mind. That didn’t mean that it was any less true, however.

Fuck, how the hell could she possibly put all that into words?

“It’s… complicated,” she stammered, and couldn’t help but let out a blustered chuckle.

Mary seemed to deflate. “I bet it is…” she said with a disappointed sigh and without making eye contact.

Eva bit her lip. Yup. It was obvious what was going on. Strangely, she felt like she knew how to proceed. She was certain that her unenslaved self would have been absolutely mortified by the sheer awkwardness of the situation. But that wasn’t who she was, anymore. She was a shameless slave, and being shameless seemed to have benefits other than spreading her legs without hesitation.

She took a couple of steps toward Mary, until they were five feet apart. “Look at me.”

Mary did. She said nothing. 

Eva continued. “I’m gonna say some stuff straight-out now, because I don’t have long before I need to go and get back to learning how to be a good set of fuck holes.”

She gave Mary a lopsided grin, and Mary managed a weak smile in return.

“First off: I think you’re very cute,” Eva said. “And if you want to spend more time with me and have sex with me, I’d be thrilled.”

Mary blushed deeply. Eva continued. “But I still need to figure out, like… a lot of stuff. Emily and I… there might be something there, or it might just be the excitement of being enslaved by my best friend. Just because I love her for that doesn’t mean we’re exclusive romantic partners. Might be that I’m just too much of a brainwashed slut to even be in a relationship, period. How would that even work? Does Mistress even allow it?”

“As long as it doesn’t keep us from serving,” Mary said. Her voice sounded surprisingly firm, even if she was still half-glancing at her own feet. Eva had the feeling that the hard part to Mary had been the uncertainty. She seemed immediately less uncomfortable now that things had been spoken out.

“Huh. Okay,” Eva said skeptically. “So… out of all the other beautiful fuck slaves, you end up fancying me?”

Mary scoffed. She was still looking at her feet, slowly shaking her head.

“Yup. I don’t get it either. You spend years serving without giving most of them a second look and then, suddenly, you have the most violent crush. I don’t know… something about you feels… different.”

Eva sighed. “Okay, not to be discouraging or anything, but… any chance that it might be my botched enslavement? You heard about that, didn’t you?”

“Of course I heard,” Mary said. “And I’ve been thinking the same thing. But that doesn’t change anything, does it? I still… liked… you the moment I met you.”

Eva took a deep breath. Jesus! How was this now happening on top of everything else? A big part of her was acutely aware that she had way too much going on already, but…

Mary was cute. Eva was definitely into her. The fact that Eva was into every single slave in Devanshi’s compound didn’t make that any less true. No matter how hard Eva tried, she couldn’t come up with a reason to flat-out reject her. Somehow it was easy to imagine the two of them serving Emily together after all of this was over. 

“We’ll figure it out, Mary. It’s not like anyone in this building is ever going to have a quote-unquote ‘normal’ relationship. I think you’re hot, I think you’re smart, and I will only be spending more and more time around this place. Seems like a decent place to start.” 

Mary smiled, and nodded. She looked into Eva’s eyes. “Yes it does.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Eva said. “At least figuratively. I really need to get back to my training.”

Mary chuckled, and Eva gave her a kiss. Then, she quickly dried herself off and hurried to the fuck chamber where Patricia was certainly already waiting, thoughts spinning yet again.

Hot damn, I can’t catch a break, can I? She thought, as she walked up the corridors. Her heart wasn’t fluttering that much, but she still felt a bit light-headed from the conversation she had just been forced to cut short. Had she been too accommodating, too nice, just to spare Mary’s feelings? That would mean that she’d been lying when she told her that she was willing to try. And she didn’t think that she had been lying. Mary was all the things that Eva had said. She seemed very bright, and she was stunningly beautiful, and what little conversation they’d had that hadn’t been courtship negotiations had been pretty easygoing and pleasant. 

But the thing that was most remarkable was the fact the Mary wasn’t a shameless whore like so many other slaves. In fact, she seemed to be more timid than her professional demeanor might lead one to believe. Being asked out by Mary felt, in a strange way, so much more real than all the loving kisses between her thighs that she had received from her fellow fuck slaves. Mary knew exactly what Eva was. She knew that she was spending her days giving her body and getting off from it, brainwashed to be obedient and eager to serve. And she still liked her. Sure, Mary might be brainwashed, too, but it wasn’t her brainwashing that had led her to be attracted to Eva. That had been her own free will – or at least her own free involuntary gut feeling.

It felt good to be desired in such a pure and innocent way. No matter how fucking hot it was to be used and to reduced to her tits and cunt and asshole, it still felt nice to be loved for who you were.

With her thoughts still in disarray, she entered her chamber, and soon there was no more time to dwell on all the complexities that seemed to keep on piling on top of her already way-too-complex situation. Patricia told her to dress up, and she did. She told her to pose, and she did. She was in lingerie. She was wearing a collar. She was perfumed and made-up and ready, legs spread and itching to be used. 

Hours and hours that itch went unfucked. Patricia drilled her mercilessly, correcting the slightest errors in her poise, correcting sloppy movement, pushing her and instructing her, over and over and over again. 

Patricia taught her that the way they moved needed to transcend even their hot slave bodies. Their asses and tits and cunts and faces were nothing without a body that constantly invited everyone to use them. The ones that used them didn’t pay for sex. They paid to see no shame. They paid to see only lust. Only desire. 

When Patricia showed her what to do, it was like witnessing a shameless Goddess. Every little movement was sex. Every blink of her eyes was an invitation. Patricia was teaching her to dance, and Eva stumbled and stumbled until she got it right, at least once, spreading her thighs perfectly, bending over just so, swaying her hips in the most desirable way. 

It was relentless, but at the end of the day she felt like she had taken a few small steps in the right direction. Her muscles ached even more than when she had been fucked for hours and hours.

“That’s enough,” said Patricia finally, and Eva slumped onto the bed, panting. 

Patricia let her take a few breaths before she continued.

“You did well, Eva,” she said. “What do you say? Want to hit the showers? Training is officially over and you’ve made me desperately horny.”

Eva chuckled weakly. She was lying on her back, spread-eagled. Her limbs felt like they weighed a ton each.

“You know, I can hardly believe that I’m saying this, but I need a minute.”

There was no reply, and for a moment, Eva wondered if Patricia felt insulted. But then she felt the mattress beneath her rock, and saw Patricia climb onto the bed from the corners of her eyes. A few moments later, Patricia was kneeling over her, smiling.

“Such a good fucking slave,” Patricia said, and pushed her fingers down her lace panties. She was wearing the same lingerie as Eva, only a cup size larger. Eva could see the outline of Patricia’s pussy through the semi-transparent fabric. A warm shiver went down her spine, and she smiled at Patricia with a soft sigh. Patricia smiled back.

“You’ll be such a good whore,” Patricia said as she stroked her clit. It was the same kind of things she had said when they had fucked the day before. Eva didn’t mind, of course. It was so hot to hear other slaves say the things that had been brainwashed into them. It was so hot that they had been turned into fetishists for their own enslavement. They were trapped in an endless loop of happy obedience, helpless to escape, unwilling to escape. It made them so hot to be slaves. 

Eva dragged her aching arm between her own legs. She was so fucking wet. She needed it so bad.

Patricia grinned madly. “Yes, you like that, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Eva whimpered, and stroked across the outside of her drenched panties. Her entire lower body trembled with almost painful arousal. She was so fucking sensitive. 

She moaned. Fuck yes! She had spent the whole day training to be a fuckable piece of property! And she had been taught by a woman that had once been a person with dreams and goals and a life of her own, until she had been brainwashed! Yes!!! Whoever Patricia had once been hadn’t wanted this – but then they had made her, and now she was a tool eagerly making more tools for the one that took her will!

Her fingers pushed into the sticky wetness between her pussy lips and she nearly screamed with pleasure. Oh God, yes! She was so close already! “Yesss!” she groaned, and she heard Patricia echo her.

“Yesss,” whimpered the slave above her. “We’re made to serve! We’re made to obey!”

Eva trembled. Yes! Yes! Yesss!!! It was so correct. So good. So hot!

“We’re property,” Eva panted. “We’re here to be used!”

“Cum for me, slave!” Patricia moaned, and Eva’s mind exploded with joy. Before she even realized what was happening, she was screaming and convulsing as hours and hours of pent-up lust and arousal unloaded themselves all at once, and she obeyed like the good fuckslave that she was. Her vision blurred and she lost track of everything as her body sizzled and shivered, jolts of electricity shooting up her back and into her curling toes, and she pushed hard against her clit, pushed against the uncontainable painful joy between her legs, and screamed and screamed and moaned and moaned until finally, the orgasm subsided and her body relaxed.

As the ache in her body returned, she groaned and giggled at the same time.

Patricia was lying next to her, smiling, blushed, and obviously deeply satisfied. For a moment, neither of them said anything, and it felt quiet and intimate.

Eva had to suddenly think about Mary. What would she think if she saw this? When they had been talking it had felt possible or even reasonable that Eva might give it a shot. But now, she felt like she had been right to think that she was too much in love with all other slaves – or at least with the idea of all of them being just as brainwashed as she was.

It really was complicated. Maybe if she was face to face with Mary again, she’d once again feel more attracted to her. Some part of her definitely seemed to fall in love with whoever was in the room with her – which was definitely a good quality for an eager fuckslave.

It was like she’d said. They would have to figure it out. 

Eva managed to bring her body into a somewhat upright position. She looked at Patricia. “I think I’ll take that shower now,” she said and Patricia nodded. Eva dragged herself to the showers and Patricia joined her not long after. They didn’t share any more intimacy however. They’d both been satisfied. Patricia had slipped back into her more professional demeanor, and Eva was once again lost in thought. Another day over, again with some progress and some unforeseen developments. Tomorrow, her training was going to be no less intense than today. Thursday, however, would be a rest day. Only a few hours of light training. No clients to use her, either. She’d be back to full intensity on Friday, though, and Saturday… She had to be ready by Saturday. There was so little time in between now and then.

But she had an in: She was going to be in the room with Vicky, and Vicky wouldn’t suspect anything amiss. Thank God that there had been an enslavement chamber in the compound. Getting Vicky to that basement… there was no way that would have worked.

Still, there were a ton of unknown variables. Were they going to be alone, or were there others watching? If not, could she engineer a ten-minute window somehow? Would ten minutes even be enough? What about the slave in the chair? Would they notice if Eva ambushed Vicky while she was busy brainwashing them? Were there cameras? Eva hadn’t seen any yesterday, but it had been dark. What about if she didn’t get the injection right? What if Vicky screamed in the few seconds the drug took to take effect? What if the drug simply didn’t work that way and brainwashing Vicky to serve Emily was actually impossible or really difficult?

She sighed. It had always been a long shot, and she was already so much closer than she might reasonably have expected to get. Anything she could still figure out, she would try to figure out. Anything else, she would just have to pray for.

And again, the ever-present thought at the back of her head reared its terrible, beautiful head:

And if I fail, I’ll still be a happy brainwashed slave.

She scoffed, shook her head, and went back home.

That night, she slept like a stone.