As I stared down at the grilled cheese, I hadn't managed to come up with anything in particular. One of the world's smartest women - one magazine had called me the smartest woman, though that was presumptuous - and I hadn't come up with anything. I'd dutifully made my rapist grilled cheese and tomatoes, and not come up with any idea of how to escape.
Well. There was always killing him. It wasn't something I normally did, but the circumstances were exceptional.
It felt... wrong, even to think about it, though. I wasn't a killer. I had all this power, and for my whole life-
"Eat up," he ordered, and my thoughts were cut off as my hand reached down to my grilled cheese. It felt like I was just deciding to go along with his command, but intellectually, I knew that my body was obeying him because it was the only thing I could do. My teeth dug into the grilled cheese sandwich, glancing up at him as I ate. I realized I'd never put back on my glasses, so I squinted, as if I was trying to make out his face.
I definitely didn't want him to realize that I could see without my glasses. Given he was already aware that they were prescription...
"Oh, yeah, your glasses," he said. He casually stood up, leaving the table as I kept eating my sandwich. Was the command still in effect? Was I able to stop eating, since I started? I didn't bother trying to find out. He came back with my glasses, personally putting them on, a small smile on his lips as he did so. "You look beautiful either way," he told me.
I'm sure it was supposed to make my heart flutter. I wondered if he'd said similar things to Penny. Was it just me and Penny? Had he done the same thing to other women? I could only wonder, as I chowed down on the grilled cheese, finishing one slice of it before licking my thumbs clean, then dabbing them on a napkin.
Either way, the compliment didn't really land for me. It wasn't degrading enough to cause the arousal spike that came every time I thought or felt or did anything which was vaguely degrading, and it wasn't as if I actually liked Theo. Even if I put aside my incredibly strong suspicions he'd mind controlled me, he was a crude jackass who I was only spending time with because something was wrong with my brain, and whose only redeeming quality was that he made my brain leak out of my pussy every time his cock got shoved in one of my holes.
"What do you do for fun, anyway, Darla?" He asked me, casually taking a small bite out of his own sandwich. He'd barely touched his meal so far, and he was clearly taking his time with it.
"I mostly work," I told him. That was the honest truth. I was the classic geek type - I liked math and physics and engineering.
"Yeah, but when you're not working?"
"Oh... you know, I try to learn things. Read classic literature. Watch classic films. Try to expand my horizons beyond just math and physics, that kind of thing."
He smiled at that. "Well, you've been expanding your horizons quite a bit recently, haven't you?" He asked, a wicked grin on his lips as he spoke.
I let out a small noise, something between a sigh and a laugh. "It's not like you're the first guy I've ever had sex with," I told him awkwardly, taking another bite of my sandwich.
"Yeah, but I do it better than all the other guys you've ever been with, right?"
"Yes," I told him. It was clearly what he wanted to hear, and it was the truth. The thought came to mind that I should gush - that would be what a mindfucked submissive toy would do, right? "So much better." He grinned, and I kept going, trying to manage to put together something fairly complimentary. "I just- I come a lot, with you. I'm thinking about it even when you're not around. It's hard to concentrate at work, because of how good you're fucking me." Maybe I can use that to get a little leeway? "Could we, um... stop doing it at work?" I asked, hesitantly.
"Mm..." He hummed as he looked at me, and I escaped from his gaze by chomping down on my sandwich some more. "Well, we can do it less, sure, Darla," he said. "I guess your job is pretty important to you, huh? Even more important than getting fucked by me?"
His voice was playful, but he absolutely would fry my brain if I didn't behave how he wanted. What was I supposed to say in that situation? It was like some twisted shit test, a mind controller's version of Would you still love me if I was a worm? "It makes a lot of money, sir," I said, choosing sir just to try to make myself seem utterly obsequious. "Well- I own a lot of equity, and once we finish stabilizing the wormholes, then- then we'll be up there with Microsoft or Apple, I think. It'll be- the biggest invention since the internet. Maybe bigger. It's the internet and the railroad rolled into one, and-"
"I know what the company does, Darla. I do work there." He sounded annoyed. Whether at my babbling, or at my answer not being No, I'd rather just be your big-titted live-in fucksleeve, I couldn't have said.
"Sorry. I have to give the spiel a lot, you know, to get investors," I explained quietly. I was dressed like a slut, I was the CEO of a major company, I was a literal superhero - but deep down, I was still good old Darla Nabel, a shy geek who'd duck her head at the slightest bit of pushback.
Admittedly, in this case, I did have the fact that he could make me do anything just by ordering me to do it.
"It's fine. Eat up," he repeated. I'd finished the sandwich, so I had to get to the tomato soup, which I promptly started to eat. He'd barely touched his own meal, just nibbling on the sandwich. He was taking his time with it. Was it that bad? I mean, he should be eating too, right? Had he eaten something else already? Had he had the free time to do so?
All my questions were answered when I finished slurping up my tomato soup. "Get down under the table," he ordered, "and crawl over here to suck my cock."
Ah. He just wanted to eat while I sucked him off.
I didn't have any choice. I slipped out of my seat. My knees thumped softly against the tile, my breasts feeling particularly heavy as they swung around more freely than usual in this stupid slutty dress he'd stuffed me into. I was soon down in between his legs, tugging down his underwear. Did I have to? Was it the command? I didn't actually know. I didn't see any point in trying to worm my way out of his commands right now - he'd just clamp down on my brain even tighter. He might even get suspicious.
His cock popped free right in front of my face, and I dutifully wrapped my lips around it. He planted one hand on my head, patting me dotingly - and then he looked away from me, focusing on his food instead.
He had his hot boss crawling under the table, sucking his dick, and he didn't even have the kindness to look at her as she worked.
That, of course, sent a spike of arousal down to my clit. No longer was I the girl being ordered around by the man she couldn't resist - I was the forced masochist quivering in response to the mistreatment I was receiving. My mouth wrapped around his length and I just slowly wormed myself down his length. His cock pressed against the entrance to my throat in no time at all, making me wetly gag, but I kept going even as tears formed in my eyes.
The desire in between my legs continued to go up as I pushed myself down his cock. I could probably stop now, I thought, but I didn't stop. It wasn't the order. I wasn't even sure if it was the fact that he would order me, at that point. The spiking arousal was just that intoxicating, my brain fogging up as I pushed myself slowly down his length. Thick, wet gagging noises escaped my throat, as I kept forcing myself down and down. Each inch of his cock thrust deeper and deeper into my mouth, each inch of violating provoking another quiet spasm of pleasure.
He casually planted his hand on the back of my head. Through tear-filled eyes, I looked up at him - but he wasn't even looking at me. He was just enjoying the soup.
It wasn't as if there was anything else to look at. I knew my apartment. He was staring ahead just to humiliate me that little bit further. He pushed me all the way down his length. My nose pressed into his pelvis, and he held me there, grinding me down.
My clit furiously throbbed. The impulse to touch myself was intense, the humiliation and degradation just intensifying my arousal into a toxic soup that threatened to take away all my dignity and autonomy. My thoughts buzzed with raw need, and I finally decided to just give in, my hands running down my body towards my groin, finding my clit.
A single touch of my fingertip to the sensitive nub was enough to send an orgasm up to my brain. I glukked wetly around his cock as I came, twitching in place. Oh, yes, I'm not wearing panties. They'd come off at some point, and I'd missed it, so lost in my own thoughts and my futile attempts to escape this situation. Drool ran down my chin, splattering onto my tits, the slick feeling of it slowly running down into my cleavage only serving to intensify the stimulation.
Would he see my spit-soaked tits and decide to make me titfuck him?
To do that, he'd have to look at me, and at this point, he was very clearly, very purposefully, not looking at me.
He had his boss on her knees, choking out on his cock, and he was pretending he had no interest in looking down at her. He'd stuffed me into this stupid, ridiculous outfit, and he didn't even care to enjoy the show, as my tits jiggled and bounced inside the top. My hard nipples scraped against the fabric, and my thoughts were a messy blur at the sensations. I just glugged around his dick.
As my orgasm finished, I just kept sloppily slobbering on his dick, unable to do much else, with the hand currently clamped to the back of my head, holding me down there. I couldn't breathe, but it didn't matter. He's choking me out. Is he trying to see if he can choke me unconscious? Not in the sense of passing out - he clearly didn't suspect me of being Andromeda, or he probably would have suggested some really weird sex position by now - but in the sense of if I'll even try to pull back.
I should act like I'm his pathetic, fucked in the head, plaything. A toy he can abuse to his heart's content. That'll help lower his guard.
That wasn't some rationalization. I mean, maybe in part it was - my brain was still buzzing from its most recent orgasm - but it was pretty much the best idea I'd yet come up with, for how to escape him. The weaker he thought I was, the less control he thought I had, the more likely he was to make some slip up. You open the door around a well-behaved dog, not a thoroughly tamed one.
And I'm the bitch in that example.
Another sharp strike of electricity hit my clit at that thought, and my hand down in between my thighs started to become active again. I'd been choking on his dick this whole time, and I had no idea if a normal woman would still be conscious. How long had that cock of his been shoved deep into my throat? Even my gag reflex had started to quiet, only occasionally acting up to jerk off his cock. My hands in my cunt went wild, as I just frantically masturbated, spasming and jerking in place, hips grinding against my own hands.
I lost myself in the moment. Why not? Why not just let it all wash over me? Why not just enjoy the feelings, the pleasure? It wasn't like there was anything I could do at that point. If I was going to be raped, I might as well enjoy it.
When the orgasm finally finished, I decided it was about time to pretend to pass out. I let my legs stop wobbling; then my arms went slack; then my eyes lidded, and shut. I let my head list forward, forehead smacking against his stomach, as I pretended to have passed out.
He tugged me off his dick at that point, yanking me off his cock. I gasped for air - I didn't need to, but the act was important. I twitched and jerked as I played as if I'd just passed out, my eyelashes fluttering as he just held me there.
"Darla?" He asked, sounding genuinely concerned. "Fuck, you okay?"
"Ahm, ahn, yuh, yesh, shir," I slurred out, my eyes still half-lidded, my mouth half-open when the words finished. Was he worried he'd broken his fucktoy too quickly, or was he only happy to mind control and rape women - not to kill them?
"You're too horny," he told me, tugging me up by the hair, yanking me along. His cock slapped against my tits, still contained in that obscene dress of mine. "I can't trust you to pull up when you need to breathe, huh? You're that desperate?"
"Sorry," I said, slurring the words still. "It just felt too good, sir," I told him, a little spike of arousal hitting my clit even from this. I was pretending to be his dutiful little fucktoy to lure him into a false sense of security - but I was still acting like his dutiful little fucktoy, something that, obviously, was quite humiliating to be.
"Pull down your top to show off your tits, then just give me a titfuck," he said, and I had no choice but to obey, pulling my dress down, revealing my breasts - slick with drool from earlier, nipples perky with arousal - to the open air. My breasts were soon squished around his cock, one hand on either tit, an electric feeling racing up my spine from the sensation of his throbbing manhood.
Hopefully his concern about me didn't result in him becoming extremely careful with his future commands.
He wasn't paying attention to his food any more, nor was he pointedly ignoring me. In one way, it was unpleasant - the pulsing arousal of being ignored as I serviced his cock was gone. In another way, though, it was nice. At least he was paying attention to me as he raped me, rather than just looking away purely to get himself off on humiliating me.
The feeling of his cock in the valley of my breasts, tightly compressed around it, was surprisingly intense. My breathing was shallow as I worked him over, grinding my tits up and down his length. The lubrication from my earlier drool wasn't perfect, so I started to just drool, letting my saliva spill down into the valley of my cleavage, slowly rolling towards his cock. The cool feeling of the slick fluid down the crevice of my breasts added a strange sensation that set off sparklers in my brain - and then his hands reached down for my tits, pinching one nipple in either hand.
I promptly came, spasming in place. My hands gripped my tits all the tighter, making him groan at the sensation, casting his head back. I just let out pathetic, lewd little noises - not a full-throated moan, but a pitiful mewl, the noise of a defeated woman coming again, but trying not to make it too obvious. Or maybe it was just the spit in my mouth making me quieter.
His hips bucked up into my tits, his balls slapping against the underside, and I gasped at the sensation, the pressure - and then he came. Hot streams of cum flew up from the valley of my breasts, hitting my chin, coating my tits, just leaving me to shudder and quietly jerk in place as I came down from orgasm, lightly speckled with his spunk.
"Nnn, fuck," he breathed out, grabbing my hair and just tugging me off his dick rather than ordering me off. He looked down at me. "God, you're such a hot piece of ass, Darla. An absolute fuckdoll."
Fucked as it was, my pussy wept at that comment, my cunt absently clenching around nothing as I looked up at him with a dazed look in my eyes. "Thank you," I breathed out.
"I need a break, though."
You're the one constantly ordering me to fuck you, I didn't say out loud. I did wonder if he was a sex addict - even taking into account how 'excited' he must have been to have his hot boss, it felt like we fucked every time he saw the opportunity. Surely a normal guy would have had to stop at some point?
I guess this was that "at some point."
"Go take a shower," he ordered me. "I'll finish up with this meal and meet you in the bedroom. Oh, and don't bother putting on any clothes."
Of course. Even when he 'needed a break', that was just a few minutes. I considered what to do for a fraction of a second - and then I started to crawl towards the shower. It's better if I play my role. I'm the sex-obsessed fuckdoll. That thought made my clit pulse again, while he laughed at the sight of me like that, crawling in my freshly-purchased, very nice dress, my pussy presenting to him, my bare breasts swinging with every step. If I act like a sex-obsessed fuckdoll, he's more likely to make a mistake.
It really was the rational thing to do.
I crawled all the way to the bathroom, repeating that to myself.
My pussy still spasmed hungrily anyway, the humiliation still present even if I was only play-acting. I could say it was all to lure him into a false sense of security, but the reality was, I was crawling around my own home, pussy and tits exposed, wearing the sluttiest dress I'd ever worn in my life, my face and tits lightly coated with spunk - all for Theo's viewing pleasure.
The arousal was still ambient when I finally entered the shower. I tried to refocus, as the warm water cascaded across my body. How to escape? I had to- had to find a way to release the command, right? It was possible that his commands would automatically expire. The warmth of the water slid across my breasts, stimulating my hypersensitive body, and I let out a soft breath of pleasure. The thought came to mind that I could masturbate, but I decided not to. I didn't want to feed this soupy mess of arousal, I wanted to gather my wits.
If I can convince him to release the command... but how? What is the command? Something like, wake me up every morning with a blowjob, wasn't it?
It was an impressive form of mind control, I had to admit that at this point. I had no idea how Theo could have pulled it off, but I couldn't even remember the order consciously, yet I had been drawn all the way across town to suck his cock without even realizing it until the last moment.
I used my powers to look through the walls, seeing that Theo had taken up a position on my bed, naked, his hard cock pointing up towards the air. He absently stroked himself, presumably imagining what he was going to do to me, but his gaze kept turning over to the bathroom.
It was obvious that if I didn't get done soon, he'd either come over into the shower, or he'd order me out.
Either way, I didn't want that. I didn't like the knowledge that control over my own body had been taken from me, even if it didn't feel anything. I gave my face, tits, and hair, one last once-over with the warm water, and then turned off and exited the shower. A few rapid brushes with the towel to get away most of the wet, and I strode out of the bathroom.
I did my best to feign a confidence I didn't feel. I stood in the doorway, a flush to my cheeks as his eyes drank in my naked body, his fat, pink tongue sliding across his lips. Then I approached him, clambering onto the bed. I crawled over him, so his cock brushed against my thighs, so my blonde, wet hair created a cascade around our faces.
Reverse missionary wouldn't be so bad, would it? A nice bit of relatively vanilla sex-
"Lean up," he ordered, and my body straightened up before my conscious mind could even process it. "Squat over my cock. Spread your legs, nice and wide," he ordered, his cock twitching in between my legs as I dutifully obeyed. My pussy was already wet from everything I'd just been doing, and it now loomed over his cock. "Put your hands behind your head. Lace your fingers together."
Fuck. He's making me fuck him in some obscene, stupid position. My clit, as always, pulsed with arousal at that thought. At least my powers will make it easier. No risk of exhaustion from something as simple as this.
"You look good like that," he told me, hands reaching up for my breasts. His fondling was rough and uncaring, but I was aroused and sensitive enough it set sparklers off in my brain anyway. "Alright. Keep yourself like that, but bounce on my cock until I come," he said, and immediately, I began to slide my wet cunt down his cock. He groaned at the feeling of it, and I let out a soft pant myself. The physical act of violation felt good, despite everything, my pussy pulsing absently around his cock as I sank my way down his length.
He hadn't ordered me to, but as I fully engulfed him, I started to work my pussy around his length. I figured that, if I got him off faster, this would be done faster, so I gripped and squeezed with my lower muscles, doing my level best to stimulate him as much as I could. "Look at you," he breathed out, words just dripping with sadistic arousal. His fingers got rougher on my tits, squeezing them, tugging on them, treating my body like it was nothing but his personal stressball. "You act like such a hotshot at work, but here you are, quivering on your employee's dick like the masochistic slut you are. I bet you didn't even realize just how much you needed to be treated like this, before, did you?"
Of course not. You did this to me. "Nuh, no," I told him, mewling softly as his hands on my tits got rougher. I was trying my best to work myself up and down his cock - it was his order, after all - but even if my muscles were capable of hefting a train overhead, they struggled to deal with continuing to work as pleasure overpowered my brain. "No, you're, the only one, who ever made, me feel like this," I said. It was the truth, but it was also an attempt to get him off faster. "I'm- deep down, maybe, I was always, like this-?!" I came at that point, slamming my hips down into his pelvis as my pussy started to work him over, milking vigorously and brainlessly as I moaned.
"Maybe," he agreed. "Maybe all that claptrap and whining about guys looking at your tits was just you in denial," he said. Had he listened to my interview? Was he just guessing? Had I said something to him at work, or around him, at some point? Whatever the case, he was casually doing his best to rewrite my life and personality to better suit his preferences. To turn me from mousy Darla into his eager little slut, who loved the thrill of being publicly humiliated by being forced to dress up in slutwear.
I didn't dare to argue with him. I needed to convince him my brain was thoroughly fried. The fact that I was still in the afterglow of my orgasm didn't hurt, either. "Ahm, it's, I like it, when you order me around, and- and being forced, to show off my body," I explained, doing my best to play it off like I really believed I had found some new, intensively submissive side of myself. "I- it's just, with you," I gasped out, struggling to speak as pleasure continued to hit me.
I hadn't been ordered to stop bouncing on his cock, of course. Every thump of my hips against his, every deep devouring of his full cock, continued to jackhammer its way right up into my brain. The way he spoke about me, the way he tried to redefine my existence into something more pleasurable for his cock, just added to my arousal. "Yeah, I do have that effect on women," he told me, his cock twitching inside me as he callously grinned. He let go of my tits at last, leaving me to pant and feel somehow empty from the missing pressure. His hands went behind his head as he leaned back on my bed, just reclining with a cocky smirk. "I could tell you were this sort of woman, deep down. I've got a good sense of that kind of stuff. It's not about you being repressed, really - it's about you needing the right man to bring it out of you."
"Mhm," I squeaked out, playing along - and the knowledge that I was playing along with his absurd misogynistic fantasies entirely intended to convince me I was his happy little fawning love doll was enough to send me the edge. I spasmed in ecstasy, casting my head back as I just moaned. He chuckled from his position beneath me, his hands sliding up to grab my hips. Even in the awkward position, he started forcing me to fuck myself on his cock.
"You've got a natural talent for this kind of stuff. Guess it's that working out you do, that gave you those abs," he noted, his smile utterly wicked and vicious. "Most girls I've been with, they can't manage to keep upright after the first or second orgasm, no matter how hard they try." I just mewled as I struggled to keep my brain together, as I strained to keep myself upright and sensible. His hand reached out, sliding across my leg, finding its way in between my thighs - and then he flicked my clit.
I promptly came all over again, moaning in pleasure. My pussy spasmed wildly around his cock, and I lost any ability to control myself. I didn't fall over, nor did I stop bouncing on his dick, my legs forcing me up and down even in the midst of the intense orgasm. He just watched and leered, eyes running across my naked body. My hands were stuck behind my head, unable to do anything else.
"You're a natural at this, Darla. I think I remember you saying one time, something like, Talent is as much about interest as it is about natural ability, didn't you? I guess that means you're really interested in being a good little fucktoy for me, huh?"
I mewled pathetically as another explosive orgasm hit me. Him saying I was a good little fucktoy - or at least that I wanted to be - was intensely arousing, sending waves of goosebumps across my flesh that left me struggling to even think. It all felt so good, so mind-numbing, mind-meltingly good that I actually did forget about everything else for a moment. There was just the mechanical pumping of my body up and down his cock.
No, that's not quite true. Yes, I was coming my brains out, but there were still thoughts inside my brain. They weren't rational thoughts, though. They were just an endless stream of self-debasing dirty talk, an attempt to work myself up mentally. I'm basically a fucktoy for him. I'm a self-operating fucktoy. I'm a fleshlight that pumps itself up and down his cock. I'm just a pair of tits, a mouth, and a cunt, as far as he's concerned. I have to do whatever obscene, stupid thing he orders. I am just a plaything for him.
I don't think, even at that moment, I was actually internalizing those thoughts. They were just thoughts that set off sparklers in my brains, making the edges of my vision turn white, so I kept thinking them as I pumped myself up and down his cock. I was so distracted and frazzled by the pleasure, that I wasn't even processing what Theo was saying, even as I kept on pumping myself up and down his cock. I could see his mouth moving, and I'm sure the sounds were reaching my ears, but it was like trying to listen over a roaring ocean - and I didn't care to try that hard.
Of course, that provoked Theo, who eventually realized I wasn't listening to him, and he reached up to just slap one of my tits. The cruel, vicious action made me orgasm and my brain restart, like a forcible hard reset accompanied by a moment of raw, ecstatic bliss. "Darla, are you ignoring me?" Theo prompted, a cruel look in his eyes.
"Suh, sorry, shir," I slurred out, drunk on pleasure and unable to say or do much else. "It just felt so good..." I tried to act as pitiful as possible, to play the role of the pathetic little cockslut.
It wasn't hard. My brain was legitimately bubbling in hot pink arousal at that point, my thoughts oozing out between my thighs. Even now, my hips kept rising and falling, pumping up and down his cock, while my eyes tried to refocus on his face. His cruel smirk made it clear he wasn't actually angry to see me like this. That he wanted to drag me down into the depths of oblivion through arousal and pleasure, and he considered my behavior to just be sexy and appealing. "That's alright. I guess I'll have to do all the thinking when we're having sex, hmm?" His hand slid up from my tit to cup my chin, thumb teasing at my lower lip. I brainlessly suckled on it.
Even knowing I was acting, it was so humiliating - and thus, so arousing. My thoughts blurred again, a horny oozing mess that dribbled out of my cunt, and I started to lick at his thumb inside of my mouth.
All the while, my hips continued to rise and fall on his cock. I tried my best to milk him with my cunt, gripping and squeezing whenever I remembered to do so.
"You're such a genius," he breathed out, the words oozing with the kind of misogynistic contempt only a certain kind of man can manage. "The brilliant Dr. Darla Nabel. Bouncing on her employee's cock, after making him dinner, sucking him off as he ate, and otherwise waiting on him hand and foot in all her free time. Yet, you're such a horny, submissive, masochistic mess, that you can't even think when my dick's inside you, isn't that right?" His free hand squeezed on my tit, and I went cross-eyed as another orgasm hit me.
Even in the midst of the orgasm, though, I knew what to do. I nodded rapidly, agreeing with his obscene, vicious way of describing the situation.
He could have phrased it as us being extremely sexually compatible; he could have cast the whole thing as a whirlwind romance; he could have tried to play it off as me wanting him just that much. If I hadn't realized what he was doing to me, I might have gladly gone along with those entirely logical ways of thinking about it. Instead, he wanted to degrade me. He wanted to tell me I was a stupid little fuckdoll. He wanted to convince me of that. That this was because my unruly cunt had decided to launch an all out attack on my brain, and the only logical thing to do in that situation was to accept my new place in life as a happy cocksocket for my employee.
Either way, I was spared any further humiliation by the simple fact that his hand left my mouth to instead grope my tits, fingers roughly tugging on them in a way that would have been painful - that would have left pink marks and aches - if it wasn't for the fact that he was coming right inside of me, right then and there. I let out a lewd moan as thick globs of cum splattered all over my insides, and just kept bouncing anyway.
He hadn't ordered me to stop, after all. I had to bounce, my tits heaving with every thump, my thighs managing to move my body up and down despite the mind-numbing pleasure rising from between my legs. I had no choice but to keep fucking myself on his cock.
He realized as much at some point in the afterglow, as my cunt continued to slide up and down his length. He laughed at that, letting out a sigh. "I said you could stop when I finished coming," he told me, a cruel smirk on his lips.
I slowed myself down, and came to a complete halt. I felt heat rush to my cheeks. The embarrassment was even sharper than he realized.
He hadn't actually ordered me to keep going. I could have stopped at any point after he got done coming - but I kept going anyway.
The line between control and voluntary actions was that thin, balanced on the tiniest of razor's edges, so that I could completely miss the moment when bouncing on Theo's cock went from "his control" to "my choice". There was a heavy pulse of arousal at that, my clit throbbing with need. The impulse to move my hands away from the back of my head and reach down for my pussy was intense, and my hands did leave the back of my head, demonstrating that - yes - I really was free to do what I wanted now.
Before I could touch myself, though, Theo tugged me down into him by the breast, my head landing right into his sweaty chest. The thick scent of him was an unwanted intrusion, but there really wasn't much I could do at that point, other than twitch on his dick. Then he just rolled me around, manhandling me like a giant teddy bear, twisting us around. His cock left my cunt at some point in there, and there was an unbearable feeling of emptiness that came with it.
He pulled a blanket over the pair of us, sucked in a deep breath, snuggled in, and fell asleep.
I didn't fall asleep, of course. I don't sleep any more.
So, with his softening cock pressed against one of my thighs, I started to think again.
I need to come up with a way to get him to release me from the command to suck his dick every day. There has to be some way. If I don't get rid of it, I cannot escape him, other than hoping that this wears off somehow - and given how Penny was acting, I don't think it does.
My thoughts went around in circles. I had to review what I'd been through, what he'd ordered me to do, how my body had reacted to this and that. Of course, that meant reliving every humiliation he'd lumped on me in all that time, which of course stimulated my arousal, my hand starting to slide its way down to between my thighs.
That reminded me of a similar situation - that first morning, when I'd been trapped underneath him, his cock stuffed in my pussy all night. I'd woken him up early by starting to masturbate, and while he'd been amused at my arousal, he had ultimately been annoyed that I'd woken him up so early.
The order was to wake him up with a blowjob, right?
I glanced over at the clock. It was 10:04 by the time that thought finally came to me, and I smiled as I came up with the idea.
I'll wake him up at 12:04 with a blowjob.
I waited patiently, held in his arms. Mentally, I went over some of the things I hadn't been able to get done at work, owing to the fact that I'd been pushed around and made to fuck and suck him all over the place. I stared at the clock, watching minute after minute tick over... and at 12:01, I decided that was enough. I slid out of his grasp, gently rolling him onto his back, and got in between his thighs.
I felt excited. Clever, even. I'd outwitted him. If I just did this, I'd be able to get away from him. My mouth wrapped around his cock - flaccid, slick with my juices, salty - and I started to lick and slurp on it. My cheeks hollowed as I applied pressure, and he groaned softly, his hips bucking up into my face. It wasn't much of a movement - half an inch of raising, or so - and he still seemed to be asleep. His cock began to harden in my mouth, but I didn't move, instead just gripping his hips. The thick, throbbing cock bulged slowly, hitting the back of my throat, provoking my gag reflex, but I kept myself down there anyway.
It took until 12:03 for him to finally wake up, groaning as his cock remained lodged in my throat. He shifted on the bed, his balls slapping against my chin, while my eyes just looked up at him, tongue dancing around the inside of my mouth excitedly. "Hooo, what a way to wake up," he breathed out. "Fuck, I'm tired," he groaned. "I guess you really worked it out of me, huh, slut?" He asked, a smirk on his lips as he tilted his head up, finally opening his eyes to admire the buxom woman in between his thighs with his dick lodged in her throat. I just nodded around his cock, humming and slurping softly.
His hand reached down for my hair, softly running through it as I remained down there, quietly gagging around his cock. He was full length by that point, blocking off my airway, but I just quietly licked and suckled on his cock as his dick rested down my throat.
By the time I'd been down there long enough that a normal woman would start needing to be concerned about breathing, he still hadn't realized what time it actually was.
I started to bob at that point, his cock wetly penetrating my throat with wet glukking noises as I moved. I intensified the movements, facefucking him, glaring up at him. Notice the time. Notice the time. His eyes fluttered shut, and then opened again, like he'd just had a little microsleep. "Ha, wow, I really am fucking tired," he grunted out. "Sorry, babe, you're doing a great job, but-" He cut himself off, head rotating to one side as he finally realized that only the dimmest of fluorescent lighting was around. He saw the time on my bedside clock. "It's fucking 12:06, what the fuck are you doing?" He asked, grabbing a tangle of my hair and yanking me up and off his cock, looking exhausted more than angry.
"Y-you said to wake you with a blowjob, and I didn't want to risk you waking up before I could suck your dick," I said. I did my best to seem pathetic, the pitiable little sex-addled fuckdoll he wanted me to be. By the small creasing of his eyes - taking self-satisfaction in the way I was humiliating myself - I had successfully tricked him.
He sighed. "Don't worry about it. You don't have to wake me up with a blowjob every day, just - you know, be reasonable. I like it."
"Yes, sir," I agreed - and he promptly closed his eyes and fell back to sleep.
The next two chapters are available on my Subscribestar. You can access them at https://subscribestar.adult/posts/2432631 and https://subscribestar.adult/posts/2443820 for only $3. Chapters will be posted on Subscribestar two weeks in advance.