Second time

Her thoughts snapped back to the present as she felt Master’s cock slide up her inner thigh, the sensation pulling her from the haze of recollection. The bulbous, imposing head nestled at her lips, teasing her new pussy, which pulsed hungrily, a void longing to be filled. She was on her hands and knees, the picture of submissive perfection, her body trembling with anticipation. Master held her hips firmly, controlling her every movement as he slid his cock against her, nuzzling exquisitely, each touch stoking the fire of her conditioned desire. The teasing was unbearable, her body aching for him to claim her fully, to fill the emptiness she now craved.

The useless key still lay inches from her face, glinting faintly in the dim light, a cruel reminder of the choice she hadn’t made. She could have reached for it, but he said the choice was a illusion, that she would have been trapped like this regardless of her choice, and she could hardly have have fought to reclaim her old self. The weight of her conditioning pressed down on her, heavier than any cuffs. Master’s voice broke through her thoughts, low and commanding. “You feel it, don’t you? How perfectly you fit this role. How your body begs for me. You don’t deserve to be a man. You deserve this…”

“Yes, Sir,” she whispered, her voice small, her will bending under the truth of his words. Her pussy twitched again, betraying her arousal, her need to please him overriding every shred of resistance. She was no longer John, no longer the Master. She was Jenny, his property, molded by her own choices into this exquisite prison of pleasure and submission.

Master’s grip tightened on her hips, and she felt him shift, his cock pressing harder against her entrance, teasing but not yet entering. “You aren’t the master any more. You’re Jenny. You’re mine,” he said, his voice laced with a certainty that made her heart race. “And you love it, don’t you Jenny.”

She did. She hated that she did, but the conditioning she’d crafted as John had woven itself too deeply into her new mind. Every sensation, every command, every moment of humiliation fed her arousal, locking her further into this role.

As he finally slid inside her, stretching her, filling her with a pleasure so intense it bordered on pain, she let out a soft moan, her body surrendering completely. The rhythm of his thrusts was relentless, each one reinforcing her place, her purpose. Her new pussy clenched around him, her clit throbbing with every movement, and she came, wave after wave of ecstasy crashing through her. The realization hit her again, sharper now: this was her life. Her choices had led her here, to this moment of being used, owned, cherished in her submission. Master’s seed filled her, triggering another orgasm, and as it dripped from her, she felt the finality of it all. She was Jenny. She was Property. And in this self-imposed paradise and prison, she was complete.