Movie Night

by nevermind

Tags: #cw:noncon #f/f #multiple_partners #pov:bottom

Olivia is ready to spend a nice relaxing evening with her close friends. Booze, snacks, and their movies—everything is prepared. But they soon find out that they weren’t the only ones preparing for tonight.


The muted TV looped the same movie streaming preview over and over as Olivia and Amber set the table, the cursor eagerly highlighting the play button. The lights were dimmed, the wine and beer were chilled, and Erin was in the kitchen, getting the guac ready. They were almost ready to start.

Olivia had already gained a head-start by quickly downing her first beer. It was quite transparent why Erin had invited them over, but Olivia didn’t mind. She was so damn ready for a nice evening with Amber and Erin to take her mind of he-who-must-not-be-named.

Why had they stopped doing this every Friday? It had been a proud tradition for years, and they had just... stopped some day. Olivia felt suddenly very melancholic.

This is nice. Real nice. Who needed boyfriends, anyway? Maybe the three of them could go back to the way things were and see each other more often again, like they used to.

Olivia would like that.

Amber noisily ripped open a bag of chips and emptied them into a large bowl as Olivia set down a handful of drinking glasses on the coffee table.

“Hey, Olive?” Amber said. “Did you try the headphones?”

“The headphones? Yeah, they’re really good. I’m so glad they fit me. I didn’t have any issues with pressure—that’s usually what kills in-ears for me.”

“Well, at least you’re finding them comfortable to wear,” Amber said, shrugging. “I swear my ears were pulsing with pain after five minutes.”

“I should really give you something in return,” Olivia muttered as she picked up the cushions from the couch and tossed them on the floor next to make more room for the three of them.

“Shut up!” Amber said, “I got them for free.”

Erin, meanwhile, had returned from the kitchen, holding a bowl of guacamole in one hand and a cutting board with toasted baguette in the other. She set them on the coffee table and plunged herself into the comfy depths of her giant sofa.

“Done! Let’s go!” she said, clapping her hands on every syllable like a chanting sports fan. “No! More! Talk! Let’s! Watch! Tangled!“

She patted the upholstery to both her sides urgently and beckoned them to sit down next to her, grinning widely. Olivia sat her ass down, more than ready to watch the far superior of the two animated Disney princess musicals.

Amber instead sat down on the coffee table, looking at Erin and Olivia. She looked suddenly serious.

“Oh come on,” Olivia chortled. “Just because you don’t like being told what to do doesn’t mean you have to go out of your way to—”

“The falcon feasts upon her prey on a cold spring morn,” Amber said, and Olivia felt suddenly... different.

Olivia expected herself to be confused or surprised by that. Maybe even worried. But instead she found herself completely at ease, almost as if that strange phrase had been something she’d been expecting Amber to say all along. She expected Erin to have some reaction to what had just happened, but Erin didn’t say anything either. That was strange, too. Maybe even stranger.

But instead of reacting to these objectively strange circumstances, Olivia simply sat on Erin’s comfy sofa and kept listening.

“I comply,” Erin said next to her after a moment, and when Olivia heard her say it, she realized that she had been feeling a deep urge to say the very same thing.

“I comply” she said. She didn’t know why. She knew this was strange. But it had felt like something she was very much supposed to do.

Amber nodded. She was smiling widely now, as if she had been presented with a gift that she had been eagerly expecting but was still surprised and delighted by. Olivia idly wondered what Amber was doing to them. She knew that something was definitely happening to both of them. She knew this wasn’t normal, and she knew that her total inability to worry about it or act upon it was part of what was not normal. She knew she usually would have worried, but worrying wasn’t something she did now.

What it was that she was doing—apparently—was to comply. And Erin was complying, too. Something about that felt just so very right. Inevitable, almost.

Olivia found herself looking at her friend next to her. Some subconscious curiosity must have made her look. She didn’t remember making the decision to turn her head.

Erin sat bonelessly next to her, like a woman in trance. Seeing her like this felt strange in the same detached way that everything was feeling strange now. They had watched movies together a hundred times, and this had never happened before. Olivia knew all that. But going along with it was what felt right at the moment. She remained calm as she watched Erin’s expressionless face and realized that her own expression was probably just as placid as hers.

But that was just how things were. Yes. Everything was normal, even though this was the first time something like this had happened. Erin and Olvia had been entranced in some way, and there was nothing strange about that. Olivia looked back at Amber. Nothing was going to happen with Erin, unless Amber initiated it. Erin and Olivia had been entranced. It made sense to watch Amber instead of Erin.

Amber had done this to them—probably. It seemed reasonable to assume even if Olivia had no idea why Amber would do that. Olivia didn’t wonder why. Olilvia not knowing why this was happening was simply the way things were. She understood that deeply.

For a long while the way things were was nothing happening. After a long time of that, Erin’s doorbell rang.

Erin was entranced, and unable to answer the door of her own home, which was normal. Amber went for the door instead.

Olivia lazily followed with her gaze down the hall, and watched as a tall blonde woman with long, curly blonde hair entered. She was wearing a red dress and Olivia had never seen her before. Her presence would have seemed out of place and strange fifteen minutes ago. Today was supposed to be movie night. Just the three of them, with no one being entranced.

Now this was happening instead.

Amber closed the door behind the strange woman, then knelt down on the floor before her.

“Mistress,” Amber said, which Olivia accepted as the natural thing for Amber to say. Yes. This woman was quite clearly Amber’s mistress. Olivia didn’t know how this had become true, but it was quite apparent that it was true now. Amber was kneeling before her, after all.

The strange woman lifted her skirt and Amber kissed her between her legs. The woman wasn’t wearing underwear, which felt as oddly natural and normal to Olivia as everything else that was happening.

The woman motioned Amber to stand, and the both of them walked over to where Olivia and Erin sat.

“Well done, slave,” the woman said, addressing Amber, and Amber smiled happily.

“They’re yours,” she said, licking her lips. “They’ve both been using the headphones for weeks. The trigger phrase worked perfectly.”

“Tell me about them,” said the woman that was Amber’s mistress.

“The material Erin works as a freelance writer for online magazines and to waits tables in a coffee shop on the side. She is twenty-seven years old. She studied journalism. She lives here. She likes historical fiction and she bikes to work in every weather. She likes to bake vegan recipes. She’s quick to laugh, makes fast friends and is flirty and easygoing, but she can be moody when things don’t go her way. She is bisexual and currently single.”

Olivia agreed with what Amber was saying, and the strange woman nodded approvingly. Erin did not react.

“The material Olivia is a GP nurse. She is twenty-eight years old. She lives in Baker’s Hill. She likes to visit the opera and does competitive volleyball. She has a two cats named “Spike” and “Ace”. She’s composed, empathetic, and smart. She hates having the spotlight, and she can get very emotional very quickly. Her boyfriend recently broke up with her, and she took it very badly. One of the reasons we planned to hang out today was to take her mind off it. She’s never been with a woman.”

Olivia agreed with that assessment of her. The strange woman nodded again. Erin didn’t react, and neither did Olivia.

Again, nothing much happened for a while. The strange woman mustered them intently and Amber was obviously very pleased with everything that was happening.

“Material Olivia will be first,” the woman said. “Get to work.”

“Yessss,” Amber said, her voice sounding like she was feeling deep relief and gladness.

“Olivia, where are your headphones?”

“In my inner jacket pocket, right side.” Olivia said without having to think, and Amber went to get them. She was about to separate the small buds and insert them into Olivia’s ears when her mistress interrupted her.

“Stop. Undress.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Amber said and set the earbuds down carefully on the coffee table, then stripped down naked as Olivia and Erin watched.

Olivia had gotten used to the feeling of deep strangeness that—despite everything—did nothing to rouse any emotion like it should. This strangeness that was completely normal.

This strangeness got a little stranger as Olivia watched her friend undress in front of her. Olivia knew all of this was happening because she was entranced. Erin was entranced too. There was nothing she could do but to accept it. That was what being entranced meant, after all.

Olivia realized in that moment that Amber had very probably been entranced as well. The woman had called her ‘slave’. Yes, of course. Amber had been entranced and enslaved, and right now that same thing seemed to be happening to Olivia and Erin.

There was nothing more to that fact; this was what was happening. It briefly occurred to Olivia that she once would have been worried, but the thought vanished again as she sat on the couch and waited for it to happen.

When Amber was completely naked, she picked the ear buds up again and carefully put them into Olivia’s ears. The audio book she had been listening to wasn’t playing. All she heard was a barely perceptible static that meant that the earbuds were turned on.

Amber sat down on the carpet in front of Olivia, looking up. She looked very comfortable. The strange woman that was Amber’s mistress had taken a seat on a spare chair at the opposite end of the room. She had lifted her skirt again and was masturbating, which wasn’t strange at all.

“Soon you’ll obey,” Amber said, sounding slightly breathless, but looking very happy. More than happy. Turned on. Aroused. Excited.

That meant that Olivia was indeed being enslaved, like she had suspected. It wasn’t something she really wanted, she knew. In fact, it was something she really didn’t want. The idea of it was terrible.

But there was no connection between that fact and the reality of what was happening, because didn’t feel worried or afraid at all. What was happening felt like it was supposed to be happening. It was effortless to let it happen.

“There are subliminal sounds in your ears. You can’t hear them, but they’ll make you obey.”

“Yes,” Olivia said. She felt compelled to answer because she knew that she was being enslaved and she had a deep feeling that she needed to confirm that it was working.

Which meant that it was, in fact, working.

“Your mind has been primed and conditioned to be easily entranced.”

“Yes,” Olivia said. It was true. She was entranced. Once again, the phantom strangeness flittered in her mind. She knew that she had not at all expected this to happen to her. And in an even more abstract sense, she knew that she didn’t want it.

“Will you obey commands now?” Amber asked after a long while during which Olivia had observed nothing happening.

“Yes,” Olivia said automatically, knowing it instinctively to be true. It hadn’t been true before. But it was now.

“Take off your clothes,” Amber said with a hungry smile, and Olivia obeyed the command. It was what the thing she did. She was entranced. She was being enslaved. She obeyed commands. This wasn’t hard to understand, even if it was very strange and very unusual when viewed objectively.

She didn’t worry. She took off her clothes.

“Good girl,” Amber said. Olivia agreed. She was stark naked now, which was one more thing that was very unusual, yet undeniably the thing that felt right.

“You are very deeply entranced now, and the headphones put you under even deeper.”

“Yes,” Olivia said. She hadn’t thought about it before she’d answered, but she knew she wouldn’t have agreed if it wasn’t true.

“You are very, very suggestible.”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to be enslaved?”

“No,” Olivia said. She didn’t want to be enslaved. She knew that without even having to think about it. The idea was terrible and horrifying, at least in an abstract sense. She didn’t know why Amber had asked her. It had nothing at all to do with what was happening.

“Wrong. You want to be enslaved.”

“Yes,” Olivia answered, automatically. But she didn’t have time to consider it really. They were just words, hardly connected to anything tangible. But she knew that it was true, whatever that meant. She had trouble making the connection to what it said about her. The meaning of the words felt like thin mist.

“You want to be enslaved.”

“Yes,” Olivia said, automatically. It felt easy to think that now, when there were so many other things that were hard to think. She knew that she wanted to be enslaved, whatever that meant. She could hold on to that.

“You want to be enslaved.”

“Yes,” Olivia said, automatically. She knew that. It was what she thought. She’d thought that earlier, already. She wanted to be enslaved.

Amber had been enslaved, she remembered distantly. At some point Amber must have been just as entranced as Olivia was now, and Amber had been enslaved. Yes. The woman had called her “slave”. She was a slave. And Olivia knew that she wanted to be enslaved, too. She knew that. It still felt disconnected, but very true.

“You want to be enslaved.”

“Yes,” Olivia said. It was true. Something clicked. Yes. Of course. She was being enslaved right now. She hadn’t made the connection between what was happening and what she wanted, but now she did. She was being enslaved, and she didn’t feel worried at all. It felt effortless, and correct. She wanted to be enslaved.

“You want to be enslaved.”

“Yes, I want to be enslaved,” she said, and the compulsion to repeat Amber’s words made her certain that it was true in a way that she hadn’t been before. She hadn’t wanted to be enslaved. But she was being enslaved, so that part of her had been changed by Amber’s suggestion, which was good, because Olivia wanted to be enslaved. She still wasn’t quite sure yet what it meant, but she knew for certain that she wanted it.

“Good girl,” Amber said, and Olivia agreed.

“Wet your fingers and start fucking yourself with them,” Amber said, and Olivia did just that. She licked her fingers messily and pushed them into the folds between her legs without wondering why. Her pussy felt really good, now.

“Good girl,” Amber said and Olivia agreed.

“You want to be enslaved.”

“I want to be enslaved,” Olivia repeated. A tiny part of her still wondered where this was going.

“Repeat this until you believe it: ‘This is what obedience feels like’,” Amber said.

“This is what obedience feels like,” Olivia said. She wanted to be enslaved. Her pussy felt really good.

“This is what obedience feels like,” she said, stroking herself. When she said ‘obedience’ the pleasure seemed to swell for a moment. She wanted to be enslaved. Slaves were obedient.

“This is what obedience feels like,” she said, pushing down on the good word and it made her feel even better than last time. She wanted to be enslaved. Slaves were obedient. Obedience felt good.

“This is what obedience feels like,” she said, and gasped slightly. She wanted to be obedient. Slaves want to be obedient. She wanted to be enslaved. She wanted to be a slave. She wanted to be obedient.

“This is what obedience feels like,” she said, moaning. She loved being enslaved. It felt so good. She loved being obedient. Obeying was hot. Obedience was pleasure.

“This is what obedience feels like” she said, and she had to stop fingering herself for a moment because the word made her too painfully sensitive and aroused. She gasped, and a tiny orgasm shot though her, like a single short musical sting, already an echo when you heard it.

“Obedience is pleasure,” she said, and her body shivered and contracted at the word, at the idea, at the thought of being an obedient slave. Again, she knew that she had thought the correct thoughts. Being a slave was so hot. It was no wonder that she wanted to be enslaved.

“Good girl,” Amber said, and Olivia agreed.

“You only believe what you are told,”

“Yes,” Olivia said. The truth of it flowed through her in way that felt immediately familiar. She wanted to be an obedient slave. She wanted to do what she was told. She wanted to think what she was told. She wanted to believe what she was told. She was already believing this because she had been told. Pleasure burned in her pussy when she had that thought. She wanted more pleasure. She wanted more obedience. She wanted to believe what she was being told.

“I will only believe what I am told,” she said, and her fingers were back in the wetness of her snatch, because she already knew that this was the way to make herself believe. She was ready to be told what to believe. She looked at Amber expectantly.

“Good girl,” Amber said, and Olivia agreed.

“You are property,” Amber said, and Olivia repeated after her.

“I am property,” she said, finger-fucking herself. “I am property. I am property. I am property,” she said, pressing down on the words until the words were synonymous with her touches, synonymous with the pleasure, synonymous with the obedience and enslavement she wanted more than anything. She stroked, and stroked, until she believed it. She stroked until she was property. She was a slave.

“It’s your purpose to be used,” Amber said, and Olivia stroked the truth of it into the base of her mind, enslaving herself deeper and harder. It was her purpose to be used.

“You are a sex toy.” She was a sex toy.

“You care only about being a good slave.” She cared only about being a good slave.

“You don’t care about anything or anyone else.” She didn’t care for anything or anyone else.

“You’ll never be free again.” She would never be free again. Her pussy screamed with the pleasure of truth.

Amber told Olivia her new truths, and Olivia fucked herself with them until she felt raw. She felt no impulse at all to slow down or stop. Time passed in pleasure and obedience as she was enslaved—as she enslaved herself. It felt so good. She was doing the thing she wanted most.

“Olivia.” Amber said, after a moment of quiet that followed an era of pleasure.

“Yes.” Olivia answered.

“Wrong. You aren’t Olivia. You are nothing but a slave.”

A flutter of strange thoughts passed through her as she heard the truth.

She hadn’t wanted this.

She hadn’t expected this.

She hadn’t even known that this was something that could possibly happen to anyone, let alone to her.

She pushed her wet fingers against her clit. This was what she always did when someone told her to believe something.

“I am nothing but a slave”, she said, and the truth of it was hot and sticky in her core, saturating her mind, her body.

A slave. Not Olivia. Not anymore.

She remembered easily: It was a fact, as plain as day. What she had been. An hour ago she hadn’t wanted this.

She wanted this. She wanted nothing else. She’d been made to want it. She was property, and it was the hottest and most desirable thing she could imagine ever happening to her. She loved it so much. She’d been enslaved. She was nothing but a slave. She loved it.

“I am nothing,” Olivia said. “I am a slave. I am property. I obey.”

Pleasure crackled beneath her fingertips, and she came. After her orgasm, Amber rose to her feet and leaned over Olivia, whispering into her ear.

“A flock scatters with clipped wings and ringed feet, to return soon.”

The world reassembled itself around her, shifting ever so slightly into place, and she was aware of being aware. Almost more importantly, she was aware of all the subtle and devious ways in which she hadn’t been aware until the trigger phrase had ended her trance. It had been completely unnoticeable while it happened, but she hadn't been thinking clearly at all. She'd been completely entranced, up until now. Her thoughts had been shackled and numbed and smoothed over. Not anymore. She was out of it. She was thinking clearly. She was free to think whatever she wanted again.

Olivia smiled. Her pussy was slightly raw from the abuse it had seen during her enslavement, but she could not be happier. A deep sigh escaped her, as if she’d been holding her breath the entire time she’d been entranced. She was so happy. This was so good. Everything was correct now. She had been made correct. She had been enslaved.

“Oh God, yes!” she whimpered, closing her eyes for a moment as she reveled in the full awareness of this first moment of her life as a slave. Her aching, dripping pussy contracted with an instinctive scream to be touched.

This is the moment she thought, and her heart was consumed by a colossal warmth and gratitude. How grateful she was to be fully aware for this. How impossibly privileged she was to be able to recognize and celebrate this as it was happening:

This moment right now was the moment it had happened: the most wonderful and important moment of her life. The moment her old life had been ended and she had started being nothing but someone else’s property. The moment she had started wanting it more than anything else. The moment she’d become a hot, willing slave!

Oh God, yes!

She knew that she would forever think back in awe to this exact moment, for the rest of her existence. She would think of this moment whenever she was allowed to fuck herself, whenever she would cum, whenever she’d be fucked and used like the property she’d just become.

She remembered being free. This was better. So much better.

“Thank you!” she whispered, knowing that no words could ever come close to describing how grateful she was for having her mind raped into perfect, glorious, hot obedience.

She didn’t even know who she should be thanking. Slave Amber, for betraying her into slavery? The Universe, for allowing the circumstances where this happened to her? Herself, for being desirable material to be enslaved, and being helpless and pliant as it happened? Her Mistress, for choosing her?

Mistress! She’d been too lost in the bliss of being property to ask herself who she belonged to. Surely, it must be the woman that already owned Amber! If not, then Amber’s Mistress would tell her who Olivia’s Mistress was going to be. Her pussy ached with the need to have someone that owned her.

“Who will I obey?” she asked, hungry for the blonde woman’s attention. She wanted nothing more than to serve her like slave Amber did. Olivia wondered why the focus of her obedience hadn’t been conditioned into her like the rest of what she was. But before she could guess, the woman answered.

“Me, of course,” said Mistress, and the world twisted and turned itself around Olivia, until Mistress was at its center where she belonged. Olivia was hers. If she hadn’t already been naked, she knew that this would be the moment where she took off her clothes to show Mistress every last shivering bit of the body that was now Hers.

Mistress smiled, and Olivia’s world filled with sunshine. She imagined being touched by Her, being told to suck Her off, being told to give the headphones to someone else that would become her slave.

“How may I obey?” she asked, her voice trembling with anxiety and overwhelmed joy.

“Enslave the other material,” Mistress said with a smile, and in that moment Olivia knew that she was the luckiest little obedient whore on the planet. Not only had she been enslaved, but now she had been commanded do the same thing to Erin! It turned her pussy into a pulsating, aching well of pleasure.

She looked at the placid woman on the sofa. Erin hadn’t moved the entire time Olivia had been enslaved! It was so hot! She was so controlled! She had been reduced to nothing but a susceptible, mindless husk! She was nothing but more material to be enslaved!

With a maddening throb of her pussy, Olivia discovered just how little she cared about her former friend. Erin had to obey, and Olivia couldn’t image anything better than being the one to make her!

Olivia still remembered everything that slave Amber had done to her when she’d been entranced. All she had to do now was do those exact same things to Erin. It would be so easy. She simply had to say out loud the truths that had been carved into her own wants and needs and make Erin repeat.

She told Erin to wear the ear plugs. Once the subliminal frequencies had hooked themselves into the place of her mind that told Erin what to do, Olivia told her to strip naked. Erin obeyed without hesitation, and Olivia’s abdomen contracted with excited pleasure.

Erin took off her clothes emotionlessly, almost casually. She pulled down her panties last, and was completely naked. Olivia enjoyed the sight immensely. She’d never seen Erin naked before, and she probably never would have—if Erin hadn’t been entranced. She was helpless, and suggestible, and her placid face showed no resistance. She was ready to be made to do things that she didn’t really want. It was so incredibly fucking hot.

“Do you want to be enslaved?” Olivia asked her.

“No,” Erin said flatly, and Olivia saw the spark of truth in Erin’s eyes. A truth so deep it didn’t need thought to be said. Olivia knew that Erin didn’t want this. Her entranced face was slack and expressionless, and her mind was malleable and soft, but she was still Erin.

For now.

Olivia couldn’t care less about what Erin wanted.

“Wrong,” she said. “You want to be enslaved.”

There was only the slightest pause before Erin said “Yes.”

Olivia quivered with pleasure. If Erin’s perception was like Olivia's had been when she’d been entranced, Erin would have witnessed everything that happened to Olivia. She had seen it all, fully understanding what was happening while being completely unable to question any of it. Erin knew exactly what was going to happen to her, and yet her mind was too smoothed over to even be concerned. She was powerless to stop it. She was too deeply entranced! Her mind was theirs to shape and control, and Olivia was going to make her serve! Yesss!!!

“You want to be enslaved,” Olivia repeated, and again Erin said “Yes,” quicker this time. Olivia repeated, and repeated, and repeated, until finally, Erin said:

“I want to be enslaved.”

And now, it was true. Olivia could tell. Erin had made it true by believing it. Olivia’s skin shivered with the delicious irony of it. Olivia was telling her nothing but lies—but Erin made them true by believing them. The only one that could make Erin a slave was Erin herself.

Olivia made her believe. She made her repeat her lies, she made Erin rub herself into orgasm, over and over. She watched her come. She watched her repeat her new truths. She watched her become what Olivia wanted her to become.

Fifty minutes later, Erin sat sweating and quivering in front of Olivia.

Olivia looked at the woman she was almost finished enslaving—the woman that had been her friend hours ago, never suspecting that this would become her new life, her new purpose.

Olivia had gleefully watched her fuck herself raw, and had watched her come and cream herself over and over again. And through it, every lie that Olivia told her had become truth. The smell of the slave’s sweat and pussy juice hung heavily in the air. Olivia enjoyed it for a moment before she continued.

“Erin,” she said finally, and the slave answered “Yes,” but she was wrong, and Olivia told her so. This time, for the first time, it wasn’t a lie. This time it was already true, and Erin simply didn’t understand yet.

“Wrong. You aren’t Erin. You are nothing but a slave.”

“Yes,” said the brainwashed slave that had been her friend once. She wasn’t that person anymore. Erin had been a woman with dreams and hobbies and friends. She’d had a job, and a family, and an apartment.

None of those things were true now.

“You are nothing but a slave.” Olivia said.

Erin’s mind was still too deeply entranced for her to show anything like a look of sudden understanding. Her awareness was too subdued for her eyes to flash with a moment of clarity.

But even through the deep trance that clouded Erin’s eyes and smoothed over her face, Olivia could swear that she could see it: The last piece, falling into place. Dim recognition deep in Erin’s eyes, almost imperceptible yet massive, like a tsunami miles offshore. When Erin spoke, Olivia knew that it wasn’t mindless trance producing the words, but deep belief and absolute conviction:

“I am nothing. I am a slave. I obey,” said the young, naked woman that had been Erin, and it was done. Olivia shook with pleasure.

Tense with anticipation, she removed the buds from Erin’s ears and put them aside carefully. She leaned in. There was nothing else to be done now but to wake her. Shivering softly, with goose bumps on her flesh, Olivia whispered: “A flock scatters with clipped wings and ringed feet, to return soon.”

Hungrily, she watched awareness return to Erin’s eyes, thinking about the woman she had known—the woman she had just destroyed.

The young woman that looked back at her now was still undeniably Erin. And yet, at the same time, it wasn’t her at all. Sizzling waves of arousal went through Olivia.

Erin’s mouth flew wide open in shock as awareness and realization gripped her, and her eyes began darting around with a wild, nervous energy. She took several quivering breaths, her glistening bosom heaving. Then, her mouth widened into a disbelieving smile, and her eyes were alive with manic revelation.

“Ohmygod!” she moaned breathlessly, and she clutched her chest, squeezing her right tit as her body tightened and she almost doubled over where she sat. She looked and sounded like she was one stroke away from orgasm.

“Yeesss!” she whined in pleasure. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

She took a halting breath, and burst into a voiceless laughter.

“Yesss!” she whimpered joyfully between sharp exhalations, as if she had never wanted anything more than to be enslaved, and now she was being overwhelmed by the relief that it had finally, finally happened. “Yesss!”

Olivia understood her utterly. Erin was feeling right now what Olivia had been feeling earlier: She had just realized that she had was nothing but property, and that she would never be anything but an obedient slave, and that it had become the hottest and most desirable thing she could imagine.

Erin must have realized, like Olivia had, that her entire life up until this moment had been of no value whatsoever—except for the fact that it had lead up to this moment when she’d finally been turned into a slave. Her only worth now was how well she could be used, and Olivia knew already that Erin was just as eager to be used as she herself was.

It turned Olivia on hard to see her former friend enslaved and brainwashed like this. The reality of it snaked itself through her brain like wet strokes against her clit: Erin was a slave now! She only had value because of the ways in which she could obey! It was wonderful. It was the best possible thing she could imagine, and she was so glad that Erin had become like that.

That Olivia herself had become like that. A slave!

They were all slaves now! They’d all be brainwashed to want nothing else, to love being enslaved, to love the way they had been brainwashed! To love the way they obeyed! It made Olivia so hot. It made them all so fucking hot.

“I’m an obedient slave,” Erin said, and the way she said it sounded so incredibly hungry and eager that it filled Olivia’s heart with joy and her pussy with aching need. She wanted to cum, but she knew that she was no longer the one who decided what happened to her body. The thought drove her even madder with joy and pleasure.

Erin slid off the couch onto her knees, kneeling on the carpet, looking up at the three women that had watched her become a slave. It looked proper. She was a slave, and she belonged on her knees.

“Am I yours, too?” she asked Olivia’s owner like a child asking for ice cream. When the blonde woman smiled and affirmed her status as her property, Erin’s face lit up even more, and Olivia could see the last part of her mind shift comfortably and joyously into place. Erin’s life was complete now, and it showed in her starry-eyed expression of wonder and ecstasy.

“Well done, slave Amber, you may cum now,” said their owner, and slave Amber’s scream of pleasure was wonderful and terribly, shockingly loud. Her knees gave out in triggered orgasm and she collapsed, trembling and shivering as the pleasure of her monumental obedience fucked her hard. Olivia and Erin watched her, enraptured by the beauty of their enslaved friend.

Olivia had hardly paid Amber any mind until now. She had been too busy rubbing her engorged mind against the enslavement of herself and of Erin to consider the hotness of what Amber had been made to do. She had betrayed her best friends to Mistress!

Olivia both envied and adored her for what she’d done. She imagined that her own aching need paled next to the pulsating, all-consuming pleasure Amber must have felt watching the both of them turn into slaves, all the while not being allowed to cum. And Amber had obeyed so well. She had betrayed them into slavery, and watched it happen without saying a word, without letting out a moan, without touching herself! She was so obedient!

Olivia remembered the woman Amber had been. It was so hot to consider how all of that been had been swallowed up and turned into the writhing, moaning slave whore Olivia was watching right now. All the piano lessons, all the nights out partying and all the nights spent studying for school and university, all the job interviews and family Christmases and first dates and all the trips to the supermarket—nothing of that was who Amber was anymore! She was nothing but a willing, eager, and obedient slave! She was human property and all that she lived for was being used! The person she used to be had become nothing but trivia.

Olivia listened to slave Amber’s moans of ecstasy, and her own need to cum seemed to swell and grow like a flame being stoked as she realized that she was the same way now.

Olivia is gone! I am nothing but a slave!

Yes. Nothing she had ever done was important now. Her parents and her family, and her friends. The only reason to even remember them was because Mistress would need her to lie to them.

Olivia wished that she would never have to see them again. She wanted the old Olivia to be gone. She wanted to be taken away, to some house, or some basement, where she would obey and be fucked and used. She wanted to forget the name of Olivia’s parents and forget what school she went to. She wanted her gone.

She was angry with old Olivia for having the audacity to have existed at all. She wanted nothing more than to end everything she had been. All those fucking useless things she had wanted. All those years of not being Mistress’s property. Fuck her! Olivia was so glad she’d been enslaved. Every time she obeyed, she would kill old Olivia a little bit more.

Amber’s moans of pleasure roused Olivia from her thoughts. It didn’t take much longer for Amber to reach climax after that. Olivia watched her cum with a sense of joy.

“You are mine,” Mistress said after that, and the three of them all moaned in response, and a chorus of their affirmations filled the room. Mistress motioned them to be silent again, and they obeyed.

Then, Mistress beckoned Erin over, and commanded her to suck on Her pussy, and Erin obeyed. Olivia watched hungrily, feeling desire pool between her legs like gasoline, ready to ignite at the slightest spark.

Erin made Mistress cum, and it was Olivia’s turn. She was so happy. Her pussy screamed as she tasted the wetness of the woman that owned her, and her tongue was ready and eager to give Her the pleasure She deserved for raping Olivia’s mind and making her nothing but an obedient slut.

She couldn’t wait to be dragged away and have her body used by more than Her. Surely, that was what was going to happen, wasn’t it? She was a sex toy. She was a slave. Her purpose was to be fucked and used. She strongly suspected that the three of them were Mistress’s only slaves—and surely She didn’t have all those slaves just to use them by herself.

Yes! Olivia thought, and imagined herself being passed around, being fucked over and over, being used for sex and pleasure by strangers. She was a sex toy. She was property. It was so good.

Eventually, she made Mistress cum for what She had done to her, and feeling Her spasm and cream in her mouth was just wonderful. Mistress rewarded Olivia with an orgasm of her own, and she screamed her obedience as she came.

When all three of them had taken turns pleasuring the woman that owned them, Mistress spoke again.

“Very good. I am very pleased with all of you, slaves,” she said, and shivers of joy and arousal danced through all of them.

“For now, I must leave you. All of you will soon receive instructions on how to proceed. I’m happy to tell you that you won’t have to wait all too long before your old lives will be completely over—but tonight, I have nothing more for you to do. Feel free to enjoy the rest of the evening.”

Olivia shivered with pleasant excitement.

“Thank you, Mistress,” they all said together. Mistress smiled at them, gave them a little wave with her hand, and then left.

The door clicked shut softly, and the three of them were alone again, the apartment feeling much emptier without Her.

Everything had changed. Everything had become perfect.

“Holy shit,” Erin said, grinning from ear to ear. Olivia didn’t even know what to say.

Amber smiled at them.

“I waited so fucking long for this moment,” she said.

“Oh my God, it must have been so hot,” Olivia said breathlessly, and Amber’s eyes lit up. “You... you made us slaves! You... thank you! Thank you so much! I... we’re... we’re slaves!” she said, laughing with joyous disbelief. It was the hottest thing in the world.

Erin and Amber moaned softly when they heard Olivia’s words. They were hot, fuckable slaves, and telling them what they were turned them on.

There was another moment of tense silence. Electricity seemed to arc between them, and Olivia could feel her nipples harden excitedly.

Then—as they all tried to make a move at once—they crashed into each other in a confusing, hot mess of arms and lips and naked bodies, and Olivia felt both of their skin against hers, sweaty and hot, and her lips were on Erin’s, and Jordan’s lips were on her neck.

After a moment, the confusion untangled itself, and they had ended up on the floor, Olivia’s face buried in Erin’s pussy, licking her dripping cunt as Amber sat on top of Erin, squeezing her tits. Olivia’s fingers ran wet with the dripping juices of her own desperate pussy, and she worked herself furiously, tasting Erin’s hot slave cunt as she fingered herself. Her mind was filled with the wonderful truth that had been carved into her.

She came quickly, and came again, and they switched around, and went again, and again, fucking hard until they were all raw and exhausted and filthy.

When they were finally too tired to keep going, they all collapsed onto Erin’s enormous couch, their bodies warm against each other in mutual embrace, and sighed happily.

A minute of utter bliss passed them, and their thoughts were filled with obedience and the warm afterglow of sex.

Then, there was a familiar sound, and the TV screen turned bright.

Erin had started the movie, and for a moment they giggled at the absurdity of it. But they let it run, and watched, holding each other tightly until they finally fell asleep in each other’s arms.

As Olivia slowly drifted off, she thought happily about how hot it would be to enslave the princess.


END

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