her to live with herself

You nod in understanding. "Sorry, those were the options. At least I'll be out of your apartment soon, then you won't have to deal with me."

"For now, yeah. But I'll need you soon."

"For?"

Karina reaches inside her shirt and, with a sigh of relief, unclasps her bra. You haven't realized it, but her tits have been slowly swelling as you talk, linked to her growing arousal. Her chest springs forward unrestrained now, the bra still hanging loosely from her shoulders, pushing her shirt forward in a very odd way. She looks at you with a half-lidded stare, bright purple eyes sultry under perfect eyelashes, the slight parting of her lips telling you that her choice to be aroused by you is still affecting her. She notices your stare and her breasts surge forward a bit more in response.

"I can't exactly walk around like this. None of my bras will fit, and I can't exactly buy new ones if they keep changing all the time. Would you please just help me out?" she says.

You suddenly realize a couple things that hadn't occurred to you before. You realize how remarkably turned on you are by someone else surrendering their power to you, admitting that they need your help. You realize how sexy it is to have someone beg you to change them again, even if they're trying to change something you already affected. Lastly, though perhaps most importantly, you realize that on a deep, deep, fundamental level, you're just not a very good person.

You step closer to her. "Karina, as far as I can tell, the only times you ever leave your apartment are to go to clubs or the liquor store. You work from home, you get everything delivered, and you have no car. You and your massive tits..." They swell a bit more as you get close. "...can stay inside all day and no one will notice anything different. Be honest, did you actually want me to fix your tits, or were you just trying to manipulate me into asking you another question?

"I... I was..." Her eyes dart back and forth and she bites her lip. "I was hoping... Well, it was both, I guess. Sir."

You stand uncomfortably close to her, looking down into her face as she squirms with shame and arousal. Someone beneath you, someone who was now so dependent on you for her sexual needs, should know better than to risk angering you. You place a hand against her swollen chest and grasp one nipple through the fabric, yanking it forward to pull her body roughly against yours. Your other hand tangles in her hair and pulls her head slightly back so she can't hide from your gaze.

"I'm going to ask you a question now."

Her chest heaves and she gasps in a breath, a small "Oh, yes," escaping her lips.

"Would you rather be helpless, unable to act against me or deny me or affect my actions in any way, becoming little more than a **** to my will, or would you rather find yourself deeply in love with me and completely dependent on my attention, retaining your free will but terrified at the prospect of angering me or losing my affection?"

As I speak, I can hear her breath catch in her throat, then stay held there as she listens to the two terrible, possibly evil options before her. When I finish, she swallows hard and works her mouth for a moment, trying to speak but with no words coming out. That delicious expression of lust and indecision crosses her face and I am immediately hard again.

"That's... I.... Oh fuck, that's..." She pulls out of my grasp and stumbles over to the futon, slumping into it and resting her head in her hands. "I choose... Shit, I don't..."

"It's a hard decision, I know. But you need to know that there are consequences for trying to manipulate me," you say.

"I wasn't... I was just trying to have a normal life! But now I, fuck, now I can't! I'm going to be stuck under you forever one way or another." She shudders and looks down at the obscene cleavage in front of her. "I guess I might as well love you for it. If I'm going to be your slut or whatever, I choose to love you for it."

The anguish and anger on her face softens a bit as she makes her choice, then melts away completely as she looks up at you. She looks confused for a moment, then a warm smile spreads across her face as she makes eye contact.

"You're right, sir. It was wrong of me to try to manipulate you." She slides off the futon and onto her knees. "Is there anything I can do to make it right? I'd really hate for you to be mad at me."

You look down at her, taking in her demure expression, her submissive pose, her hopeful expression. She notices you looking and tugs her shirt down to show off a bit more cleavage, biting her lip in a perfectly sensual way. The tent in your pants grows stiffer.

"That's a good start," you say, undoing your pants again.