Well... Morgan certainly believes you.

Monday morning comes and you wake up to your six AM alarm with new energy. You can see light at the end of this tunnel. You have faith that Morgan will help you and you face your morning chores with gusto. At 2:45PM you are relaxing in the living room, everything is clean and perfect and you're just waiting for your mother. You hear her car pull into the driveway followed by a loud honk which prompts you to head for the door. You hop into your mother's car and the two of you ride in tense silence to Morgan's office. You arrive and your mother pulls into the parking garage next to Morgan's building. After locating a spot you walk through the garage to one of the bridges which joins the two structures. Your Mother's heels click on the concrete floor of the garage and the sound echoes of the concrete of the walls with an ominous intensity. Your heart begins to beat faster.

You walk down a bland hallway, passing a dentist's office, several small law firms, and a travel agent's office. The spaces on this floor are rented out to small time professionals and can be gutted and renovated to spec. Morgan keeps an office on the building's south facing side. You remember the way from your time here before as you pull slightly ahead of your mother in your excitement. You approach her door and spot the familiar plaque that reads 'Dr. Morgan Knight.' You hesitate for just a moment as you reach the door. You don't know how you'll explain all this, but you trust Morgan and know that she'll help you. She was always extremely dedicated and professional. She was the only therapist you had liked, though you suppose it helped that she was tall and gorgeous like your mother. Morgan is about your height, only a few inches shorter than your mother, but she never wore heels shorter than six inches. In your memories she prefers a simple, nondescript professional style that favors plain white blouses just tight enough to show off her sizeable assets and simple black skirts with dark hosiery to match for a minimalist sort of look. She wore bright red lipstick most days you saw her when you were younger.

You walk into the waiting room of Morgan's office and see the same young blonde you remember from years ago still working as Morgan's receptionist and PA. Her name is Tiffany and she perks up at her little desk as she sees you walk in. She remembers you as well.

"Hey Quinn!" She says, her voice bubbly and sweet. "Long time, no see. Got an appointment at 3:30, right?"

"Yes." You hear your mother reply as she joins you in the waiting area.

"Oh well go right in, Dr. Knight is ready for you." She gives you both a friendly smile and points to the door. You go first, eager to finally get free of Chris's isolating influence. You turn the handle and open the door to Morgan's office. Your last hope dies as you see Chris leaning against Morgan's desk. An evil grin appears on his face as you lock eyes with him and freeze in shock. Kneeling in front of him with her back to you is Morgan. Her chestnut hair is curly and cut just a little above her shoulders and she appears to have discarded her skirt and top. She is wearing a skin tone bra with subtle lace details and matching panties, with black stockings leading down to her trademark black stilettos. On her shoulder and ribs you see a few tattoos you didn't know about but your attention is quickly drawn to the gulping and slurping sounds filling the room as her head bobs up and down. At first you simply can't fathom what you're seeing but you're **** to accept she's sucking Chris's cock right in front of you.

"What's up man?!" He says, cocking is head to the side arrogantly. "Troubles at home?" There he is, well over a head taller than you, muscles rippling under a dark plumb button up shirt with black slacks hanging loosely on his hips. His evil grey eyes stare at you with the same kind of sadistic glee wild cats get when they ambush prey. You try to run and panic descends upon you as Chris snaps his fingers twice and you see your mothers face go blank. She grabs you and forces you through the door. You curse your manlet father wherever he is as your mother easily overpowers you. You open your mouth to scream looking back at Tiffany who continues to stare at you with that same friendly smile, her stillness unnatural in the face of your utter panic.

"No! Please! LET ME GO! HEL-" Your mother's hand covers your mouth as she practically lifts you off your feet, dragging you the rest of the way into the room. Your eyes widen when you see a wooden chair outfitted with arm and leg restraints bolted to the floor in the center of the office. You look back and see Tiffany smile once more as she shuts the door and you give one last scream into your mother's palm but to no avail. You begin to cry uncontrollably and your breathing becomes erratic as your mother forces you into the chair. Her face is passive and emotionless as if she is in a trance. "Mommy! Please!" You sob as she restrains your arms and legs. You struggle against the leather bonds but can not move at all, you have no leverage and the chair is bolted down.

"Shut him up." You hear Chris order your mother, still calmy getting his dick sucked by Morgan who pays no mind to the scene unfolding behind her. Without any change in her blank, empty expression, your mother retrieves a roll of tape from a small table near the chair. She rips off a piece and tapes your mouth shut and your sobs and please are muffled. You look at your mother, begging her with your eyes that are hers as well to snap out of it but she simply stares forward, awaiting further instructions. You hear Chris grunt slightly before he speaks again. "Oof, let me finish up real quick. Then you and I have a lot to talk about." He smiles as he grabs Morgan by the hair and begins to fuck her throat with his full length. She takes it without complaint, gagging and spluttering as he increases the pace and intensity of his thrusts. With a final push, he violently shoves his huge rod all the way down Morgan's throat and cums almost directly into her stomach. He releases her and she coughs and gags before sucking in a huge breath. She recovers quickly.

"Thank you, Sir. This **** is so happy Master found a use for her throat." She breathes heavily as she stares up at Chris before licking his cock as clean as she can. He smirks at her submissive display.

"Go fix your face." He says and turns his piercing gaze toward you as he puts his dick away.

"Yes Sir." She bows her head and rises to her feet. Her steps are unsteady as she shakes off the dizziness of her oxygen deprivation. You see her open the door to her private office bathroom and walk inside to wash her face and reapply her makeup. Your eyes dart back to Chris as he stands to his full height. He circles around you and you feel like a trapped animal, waiting for the end. Your breathing is out of control and wretched sounds escape you through the tape muffling your sobs. You shake as you feel Chris's hands on your shoulders, he is standing behind you and you look away as he speaks.

"Quinton, I've waited a long time for this." His voice is bright and cheerful, full of genuine excitement at whatever sick plan he has for you. "Even though you won't remember this conversation, I want you to hear some things in this moment." He gently strokes your cheek, which fills you with revulsion and you shiver more violently. Your mother is standing to the side, still just staring blankly at the wall behind you. "Don't worry about her." Chris says, moving around to stand in front of your mother. He takes her chin in his hand as he continues. "She's out, got her under my spell. She's a mindless drone until I say otherwise." He turns to you and smiles, kneeling down to look you in the eye. You're breathing is too uncontrolled and your vision gets blurry as your body threatens to lose consciousness in its panicked state. Morgan returns from the bathroom looking none the worse for wear after getting her face fucked. She's smiling a warm smile, like she used to when she would calmly talk you through old traumas, and carrying a small syringe filled with clear liquid.

"Sir? If I may? I believe he requires a sedative or he'll pass out soon." Chris rises and walks back to the desk, waving his hand to signal his assent. Morgan walks over to you, bending down to you and squeezing her breasts together as she sticks the needle in your thigh. You feel your heart rate artificially slow. The sedative counteracts your adrenaline and you begin to calm down despite the immense, overwhelming peril you are in. You take deep, steady breaths through your nose as you look up at Chris who is leaning once again on Morgan's desk.

"You're probably wondering how I know Morgan. Right?" He says, still leering at you with predatory delight. "Well she was just a saint volunteering up at the prison to help convicts like me learn to take responsibility for our lives." You looks at Morgan with mocking gratitude.

"Thank you, Sir." She smiles darkly as she replies, chuckling slightly at your expense.

"Oh you've earned it bitch." He says condescendingly. "I want you to look little Quinton here in the eye and explain to him how you fell under my sway." He gazes knowingly into your eyes. "I'm sure you've noticed the people in your life behaving oddly. Go ahead cumdump, tell him everything." Morgan kneels down in front of you and puts her hands on your forearms in a weirdly comforting way given the circumstances. Her red lips part into an evil smile as her hazel eyes stare deeply into yours. Unlike your mother, it's clear she is fully present and aware of what's happening. When she speaks she debases herself by only referring to herself in degrading terms in the third person and only referring to Chris as 'Sir' or 'Master.'

"This disgusting whore met her Master when he was assigned to be her patient in a program to help convicts with shorter sentences avoid reincarceration. The idea was intense and focused rehabilitation. This stupid **** thought she was helping her Master but he was helping her see who she really is." She turns to Chris and smiles with real adoration, as if she worships him utterly. She turns back to you and quickly continues. "If you're wondering how Sir mind controlled me, he didn't." Your eyes widen a little in confusion.

"That's right." Chris interrupts. "She's a natural. We just clicked. What can I say?" He shrugs and smiles and then motions for her to continue.

"Master is right. This degraded bitch was immediately attracted to him. When she found out who he was, she knew she had to let him take her." She smiles wistfully and then leans forward. You smell perfume and cum as her breasts brush against you and her lips come to rest next to your ear. She almost whispers her next confession. "Even before this corrupted, disgusting fuckslave met Master, she used to frig herself off thinking about him. All those twisted things Sir did to you." She sighs a little, clearly turned on by the memory of your old sessions. Your eyes almost bug out of your head as your shocked mind attempts to grasp what she's saying. "When you told this hungry slut about the time Master threatened to break your arm if you didn't drink his piss, she was touching herself under the desk. You were on the couch, staring at the ceiling while this treacherous bitch came thinking about Master pissing down your weak little throat." She licks your ear which sends a shiver down your spine.

"Goddamn! She's so fucked up I love it!" Chris says laughing and clapping his hands together. "She's the one who taught me how to ensnare your mother and your friends yes." You look up quickly and anger appears on your face. You already knew but to hear him admit it, to have proof finally that you weren't going insane. It fills your **** addled mind with righteous fury and you struggle impotently against your binds. "Oh that got him." Chris chuckles as Morgan concludes her story.

"This stupid whore belongs to Master mind, body, and soul. There was a little hypnosis treatment to refine this slut's thinking to perfectly serve her Master. Her only thought now is for him and his pleasure. All other foolish considerations were removed from her little brain so she can be useful to him." She grabs your cheeks in her hands and forces you to look her in the eye as she continues. "But even before this **** **** submitted willingly to the treatment which emptied her mind of all useless thoughts, she used to let Master fuck her worthless holes while she told him all about your adorable little mommy crush and your pervy panty fetish." Chris bursts into throaty laughter as your gaze turns to your mother, who remains standing blank and empty next to you. You feel waves of humiliation wash over you.

"She's an interesting one. Used to work for the CIA she said. Well now she's my willing, degraded fuckslave and I'm her fucking god." Morgan quickly moves out of the way as Chris kneels down and allows his gaze to drill into your face. He roughly grabs your hair which elicits a groan of pain but continues in an even tone. "Now Quinton, again, you won't remember this conversation." As he speaks you see Morgan return to the bathroom. Chris pulls hard on your hair, jerking your focus back to him. "But I want to look you in the eye and make sure you understand, just right now, in this moment, that I'm not deluded." He smiles wickedly. "I don't think you deserve any of this. This isn't about justice for you snitching me out like a little fuckin bitch. I don't know what it is about you Quinton..." He trails off and once again he gently strokes your cheek, sending a fresh wave of disgust throughout your body. "I just love torturing you and prison may or may not have made me realize how much I love fucking little fembois so you can imagine how pleased I was to hear from Morgan what a little sissy you are." Morgan returns from the bathroom with a much larger needle this time, filled with something opaque and white. The sedative must be wearing off as your heart rate begins to climb and your breath quickens. Chris continues to stroke your cheek. "Calm down, I'm not gonna fuck you. Not today anyway." Your eyes are as wide as they can get at this point. "First I'm gonna take everything from you. You friends, your mother, everyone you trust is going to turn against you. You'll watch me take them all but you won't be able to do anything. Your precious Molly will be another debased fuckslave like Morgan but your mother, I like her. Genuinely I do. I think I'll make her queen of my little harem. Perhaps I'll turn Edgar into a meek little sissy like you. After I've had my fun torturing you, you're going to slowly lose yourself in perversity as you slide more and more into this little web I've woven around you. Then I'm gonna take your soul and you'll worship me gladly the way Morgan here does." You look at Morgan who is smiling sadistically at the thought of your total obliteration.

"Shall this evil cunt begin his treatment Sir?" Chris chuckles and rises to his feet.

"Of course, I'm going to have some fun with his mommy before I go." You see Chris walk over to your mother again but you don't see what happens next as Morgan quickly stabs your thigh once more. Darkness creeps in at the edges of your vision and you try one last time in vain to scream before you black out.