Oblivion!

I look over my shoulder, watching Amy's hips draw back. No tender lovemaking, this, Amy's hold on my hips is like steel, her thrust feral. Her palms flex against my hips and her fingers splay, getting a firm grip on the curvature of my slim hips.

She hauls her hips back, hands forcing me to remain in place, before she slams back in. Her thrust hammers home so hard, and so swift, the impact of her hips to my ass is a painful smack! My eyes flutter back at her, and she grins wickedly at me.

I have to trust her hands to hold me in place, because stretched across her desk with nothing to hold onto, I am wholly at her mercy. As much as I want to hold onto something, she commanded I not, which feels like a test of my new obedience.

I remain conscious, her brainwashing neither cruel nor absolute. I look over my shoulder at her, my fingers flexing against the desk surface under my palms. I groan in pleasure, even as her pace accelerates, as the level of force she uses amps up.

“Fuck ... fuck ... hhoo ... Amy!” I moan her name, swearing and tremulous, as her hammering becomes ever more forceful, ferocious, feral. Amy growls at me, her lips spreading in a lupine grin as she rams herself to the hilt, taking as she desires.

“What's that, faggot? Harder?” Amy growls the words with a low, mischievous menace, grinning as she doesn't let me get a chance to answer. “Okay!” My eyes widen and her hips collide with mine even more forcefully, making the desk shake.

“Gonna pound you until you have to lick up your own milk off my desk, slut!” Amy snarls lustfully, though I'm unclear on if I should take that as malevolent threat or sacred vow. I am, however, quite certain she means it, as she hits my prostate.

Hard-as-you-please, Amy's pace accelerates, and the wooden desk creaks the whines and groans my throat has refused to formulate. I can only huff as every thrust of her hips knocks the wind from my lungs, making me gasp as she jerks back.

My fingers turn white as they bend and crook against her wooden desktop, squeaking across the smooth, polished surface. Her eyes remain locked on mine, monitoring my reactions. She knows exactly what she's doing to me, and she is loving it.

“Cum for me, you sweet little whore!” Amy demands, her words a snarl of lust and dominance. I can feel the pressure Amy continues to cultivate in me, every thrust driving me toward a threshold past which I won't be able to resist her, anymore.

I can feel the moment her relentlessness drives me to the brink. My hands flex and my fingers twitch against the gleaming hardwood desktop, arching submissively. I gasp at each withdrawal, closing my eyes and resting my forehead on the desk.

“Amy! I'm ... close!” I offer it to her as submission and obedience, the deference she deserves. Her hand cracks down onto my ass, one side and then the other, spanking hard. I buck involuntarily, and the first thick rope of my release pumps out.

“That's more like it, you little faggot slut!” Amy growls triumphantly, squeezing my hips hard, fucking me relentlessly as I unload. Nine thick ropes hit the side of her desk, before I am spent. I can feel Amy's heat burgeoning towards her release.

“Now I can ... yes!” Her hips crack hard against my ass one last time and hold, pinning my hips against hers. Amy's thick, heavy seed pumps into me, and I can feel her filling me as she holds me, tight. I can only groan, shivering as I receive her.

“Fuck ... fuck, Amy ... hhoo ...” My chest heaves against her desk, until she pulls on my hips, drawing me back. She sinks a bit, bending forward over me, as she pushes me down. As she pulls out and puts me on my knees, I catch my breath slowly.

“Now, lick that up, slut,” Amy commands, pushing my head forward. My eyes flutter and focus, and my cheeks turn to an appropriately warm pink. I obediently extend my tongue, nevertheless, letting her force my motion, as I lick up my load.

It tastes nice, creamy and sweet, but not as rich or wonderful as Amy's does. She makes me cleanse every drop from her desk, nevertheless, then drives my head down to my own. “I didn't program you to disrespect a cock, you little whore.”

“Drain it as it deserves, slut!” I open my mouth and let her guide my head down onto my own cock, still half-hard. As she does, my cock flexes on its own against my tongue. I groan, sending vibration into my length as she slides me down on it.

Amy drives my head down to my hilt, and I swallow around my own meat, holding my breath on it. She watches me for an entire minute, swallowing, milking my own shaft. Slowly, gently, she pulls me off my own cock, now fully hardened, again.

“Good boy, faggot. Now,” she says, standing up and pulling me to my feet, my cock bobbing and ignored now that it's been served, too. “It's getting late. You should probably return to your parents' home. I have no further use for you, right now.”

“I will be talking to my parents about your reprogramming,” Amy says, “I will make it clear what your current status is. You're not enslaved, this is an impermanent, temporary condition. You're simply helping me with my scientific research.”

“If you decide you like this life, after I deprogram you, I can and will reprogram you without hesitation if that's what you want,” she tells me, “I think it would be good for you. I think you'd like this life better. It has to be your decision, though.”

“For now, let's get dressed, and I'll walk you home,” she says finally. I nod, and then very obediently get dressed alongside of her. She calls out to tell them she's going to walk me home, and we leave by the front door, and, then, by the front gate.

Author's Note:
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