The orange light that follows will soon proclaim itself a god

Sex with Valerie is bland at best. She makes a big show of it but there’s more passion in watching her sister masturbate. Yes, there is fire in her lips and her groping hands which fumble drunkenly with my belt buckle, and something like awe in her eyes at the sight of my only slightly erect cock, but that only confirms to me that her previous lovers, though numerous if the tabloids are to be believed, were neither all that skilled nor endowed.

I’m thankful for the foresight that led me to take a little blue pill earlier, as it allows me to at the very least respond to her clumsy ministrations. She’ll require much training. She’s used to men fawning over her, and using her status as a moderately attractive little rich girl in place of any skill or effort in bed.

I use my distaste for her. I channel my ire into a brutal fucking that… well she’s not going to remember most of the night, but she’ll have trouble walking in the morning. As I plow into her I jokingly call her a slut to see her reaction, and the little bitch likes it. Even though she lays there flopping like a fish out of water while I hold her to the bed by her hair, she’s clearly aroused, or at least her body is. Overcome by sensation? So potentially malleable… I believe these sisters may well be my masterpiece.

She’s drunk of course, but from the dilation of her pupils there are a couple other chemicals marinating her neurons. I begin to escalate my physical **** against her surprisingly tight pussy. That’s when I get the reaction I’m searching for. Her cunt begins to spasm and her whole body is wracked by tremors as she cums explosively. I clamp one of my hands around her neck and squeeze as she does so, whispering the words “Good girl.”

I don’t stop. There’s a particular end in mind, and one orgasm isn’t going to get me there. I yank her up, put her on her hands and knees. She’s light enough that I could probably toss her around the room, so it takes little effort to reposition her even with little assistance from her. With a hand clamped around her throat I piston into her harder and faster, my pelvis slamming against that flat ass. Shes cumming again and as she does I squeeze, and again repeat “Good girl.”

I cut off her air for a moment and say those words every time she orgasms, which she does repeatedly.

I take her over and over again all through the night and she just takes it. It’s four am when I finally decide she’s fucked out and cock drunk enough to finish up. As she cums for the final time I truly **** her out, this time using a blood strangle.

Then I settle in and cuddle up beside her, stroking her hair and whispering in her ear as she slowly comes to, engaging in a bizarre perversion of aftercare. My words carry the message that she’s safe, that she can rest, I lie to her like she’s something more than just a means to an end. Still one must care for one’s tools. My whispers slowly carry her mind away to that liminal space between sleep and wakefulness where I do my best work.

“Valerie…”

“Yeah…”

“Valerie, you can hear me and respond to me normally.”

“Yes.”

“But you’re so relaxed, and you feel so good and safe that you just want to listen and respond. Listen and respond.”

“Just listen and respond…”

“Good girl.”

“Mmmmm.”

“You like it when I call you that?”

“Yeah…”

“Good girl.”

“Mmmmh.”

“But you’re not a good girl, are you, Valerie?”

“No. M’a bad girl.”

“Melanie’s the good girl.”

“Stupid Melanie.”

“But I like bad girls. So you can be my bad good girl.”

“I can?”

“Yes. How does that make you feel?”

“I like that.”

“Good girl.” I feel her shudder as I say it. The beginning of my conditioning is setting in nicely. “You don’t like that Melanie’s a good girl, do you?”

“No…”

“Did it make you sad when Melanie stopped being a bad girl and got stuffy and responsible?”

“Yeah. Stupid Melanie.”

“Do you want Melanie to be a bad girl again too?”

“Yeah… Bad girl like me.”

“Would you like to help me make Melanie a bad girl again?”

“Oh yesssss…”