When Lillian Stewart woke back up, everything was as it should have been from the start.

“Oh, this is much better,” she said. “Thank you!”

She did her best to remain calm, but it was hard to control the excitement and burning urge between her legs as she knelt before the people that owned her will and her body.

Her body.

Oh yes. The world had collapsed again. Whatever delusion they had brainwashed into her subjugated mind had been replaced with a much more satisfying and easy-to-follow truth, and she could not wait to give herself entirely to that perfect new obsession. She was a slave, and there was nothing better and hotter than to serve and be used. She wanted this. She wanted this so much. This was better. So much better. Anything for them. Anything to serve. Anything to obey. 

Her beautiful owner Susanne Berger handed her a tablet, and she took it without thinking.

When she saw the document, she had to chuckle. She really hadn’t been the only one doing research on her enemies.

“What’s yours is mine,” she recited. “And what's mine is ours. We are the true stakeholders. We are the people, and you don’t own us!”

It was an act of performance so obvious and trite that it would have felt embarrassing under any other circumstance – but there was no shame left in her brainwashed mind, and she had already witnessed the unabashed kink and fetishisation on display when her owners had used her earlier. It was clear that they all wanted her to say it. 

Most of all, she wanted to say it herself. This was making her so fucking hot.

“Your will is my will,” she said. “And all that I am is yours. I am nothing but a slave, and you own every part of me.” 

She put down the tablet and looked into the eyes of the woman that had taken ownership of everything that she was.

“I want to be used,” she said proudly.

And she soon got what she wanted. 

The night went long, and they both took turns using her one more time, now fully eager and willing to please with every last ounce of her being – and when both of them were done with her, she got to reward slave Christine for being an eager cog in the machine that served their will by licking her pretty little pussy. Christine even returned the favor. It was getting her off to see slaves cum. She was such a good little brainwashed whore.

The next day, they made her sign an obscene contract that would serve to make her perfect new reality as a piece of property as legally binding as the law of the lands could possibly allow. Hundreds of pages, taking away her every right and possession and turning it over to Lotus Industries, her new owner.

It was official.

She was fully theirs, now – and she went right on to betray everything she had been.

She gave them everything.

Contacts. Crypto wallets. Encrypted chat rooms. IP addresses. Private keys. Login informationto everything she had an account for. Secrets she had locked behind dead-man switches and would have literally given her life to protect. She laid it all open and made it theirs to use, just like her body and eager mind.

But they didn't even use it.

She got to use it.

She got to sell out all of her friends and contacts, and proved her loyalty by using all of her skills against them. Infiltrate their accounts. Find out their real identities. Isolate vulnerabilities. Disable security. Plan an attack. And when it was time to take them in, she got to be the one to make personal contact and expose them to the field that switched off their minds. She even got to watch when they turned them into obedient assets of Lotus like herself.

She gave them her body as a reward after, and it made her cum so fucking hard every single time.

Eventually, all her friends had been made to serve, and things calmed down – but her life as a property of Lotus had only just begun. There were endless opportunities to be a good slave, and every day was better than the last. There were always more activists and government bodies trying to uncover the truth of what Lotus was doing to the minds of its employees, and consequently there was always accounts to infiltrate and evidence to delete and people to dox. She did the work zealously, stopping only when commanded to rest, driven by the perfect obsession between her legs that rewarded her on every step along the way, making her serve, making her obey, like the perfect slave they had turned her into. Anything to keep the machine running and its enemies powerless – or even better, make them part of it. Anything to make sure that her owners could keep doing this. Anything to make sure that she could keep being like this.

Anything to serve.

And she did. Over and over.

With every part of herself.

It felt so fucking good to be useful and desirable property, and she let herself be used almost daily. There was always someone that had earned or bought access to her body, and it was so satisfying to give it away like the commodity that it was. Whether it was a superior slave in the hierarchy of Lotus, a wealthy buyer that had earned a special treat and liked her looks, or even her Master or Mistress herself – it never felt anything less than perfect to serve in the most personal and intimate way possible. Every time she spread her legs or opened her mouth to give pleasure, she was proving just how eager and complicit she was. Anything to serve Lotus. Anything to obey her Masters.

She was such a good slave. Such a willing whore. Such a valuable asset.

Sometimes she had to think about the first hours of her servitude. Slave Christine’s experiment. The feeling of dissociation and disconnection between herself and her body, and the rest of the world. A tragic little thing, trapped with her old ideas and personality, unable to appreciate the fucking joy of being property. What a fucking horror show that had been.

She was so glad that it had happened. It gave her such a sense of satisfaction to think that she might be the single slave that had understood best how little her body belonged to her – and she was certain that it made her a better slave now to be able to remember that feeling.

Still, she was glad to be brainwashed instead of brain damaged. 

The difference in ownership had been semantic, anyway; it didn’t matter if this body was hers or not. 

What mattered was the fact that it existed to be used, and that she was always going to be willing to give it away along with all the rest of herself. 

Yes.

Everything she had. Everything she was. 

Her skills. Her knowledge. Her body. Her mind. 

It all belonged to them now.

Like everything should.