He Makes Her His, Of Course!

John's voice was my whole world now, the only thing I was aware of. I could still hear the distant sound of people talking, footsteps echoing through the office, phones ringing, but it all seemed so insignificant. All that mattered was the voice, and the words. His words.

"Holy shit," the voice said. "This is fucking incredible."

It felt satisfying to know that he was pleased, that I was providing him the relief and service he so obviously desired.

"I can't believe this is working. You're actually in trance, aren't you, Ashley?"

I nodded. Of course I was. He had used the trigger on me, the trigger Simon had spent so much time and energy implanting in me. Why wouldn't it work?

"I guess we should start by making sure that change of perspective you talked about remains permanent. Wouldn't want you to change your mind about offering relief, right?"

I could only nod at that. I didn't even need him to tell me that. It was normal to offer such relief, and he was going to ensure that I would keep thinking so, as it was the right thing to think. It was a good thing, a generous and selfless thing.

"But I think we'll restrict it to just me. I don't need any competition, do I? So you won't offer sexual relief to anyone, except me."

I frowned. He wanted to restrict who I offered relief to? That didn't feel quite right. I had no problems providing relief for everyone who needed it, and it would be unfair of me to restrict that. I was now feeling a bit uneasy, but I could feel my own judgement fading into the background, becoming unimportant and insignificant compared to his voice.

"So... Let's start fresh. All these suggestions your boyfriend gave you? I want you to forget all of them. All of them. They don't matter anymore."

I felt the suggestions Simon had given me that very morning fade from my mind, and for the first time since I awoke from the trance I felt panic rise within me. I could picture myself, kneeling in front of John while he was fucking my tits, and suddenly it all felt wrong. How could I have done that? My stomach was twisting and turning at the thought of what I had let happen. What the hell had I been thinking?

I tried to speak, to stop what was happening, to beg him to release me, but my mouth wouldn't obey. I was so deep now that my thoughts just seemed to float in the air, without any power to control my actions. I could feel my limbs getting heavier and heavier and my body sinking further and further into the chair. I wanted to scream, but no sound would come from my mouth.

"Now..." John's voice interrupted my inner turmoil. "I'm going to count to three, and when I reach three you'll wake up. And when you wake up, you'll find it normal and completely natural to do anything I tell you to do. The very thought of disobeying me is simply unimaginable and unacceptable. Get it?"

Despite myself, I nodded.

"Good," he said. "It will just make sense that you should do whatever I tell you to do. You know I own you, and it feels right to do as your owner tells you. It's normal and natural. It just makes sense. When I wake you up from this trance, that will become so obvious and normal that you'll wonder why you ever thought differently, it will seem ridiculous and absurd to you."

I could hear the grin in his voice, and I wanted to throw up. I could feel my inner resistance melting away, the panic subsiding, and the voice, the suggestions, becoming more and more reasonable.

He seemed about to bring me out of the trance when he stopped. "Wait, one more thing," he said. "I don't want your boyfriend getting suspicious. We'll have to be careful about it, right?"

Again I nodded.

"From now on the trigger will work for me and me alone. Your boyfriend will never be able to put you under again, no matter what he does."

He started the countdown. I felt myself drifting back up, my limbs feeling lighter, my thoughts getting clearer. The panic was subsiding and I started to feel relaxed and at ease. It all felt right, somehow, like everything was as it should be, and that feeling only got stronger as I heard him finish the countdown.

"There we go," he said. "How do you feel, Ashley?"

I blinked my eyes a few times and looked at him. After a moment, I smirked. "Like your little personal fucktoy, I guess."

He almost jumped in the air in excitement. He was grinning like a fool. "You mean it?"

I nodded. I really did. "It's funny," I said. "I can't explain it, really. Just a few moments ago I was terrified. I thought I'd made a huge mistake, but now... it all seems so silly." Somehow the fact I knew exactly why I was feeling that way didn't change the feeling itself, and the absurdity of the fact that I could still think for myself, yet was now fully accepting the idea of being his little fucktoy amused me when it should have horrified me. I burst out laughing at the thought of how ridiculous the situation was.

"What's so funny?" he asked, looking confused.

"Oh, nothing, really," I answered. "I just realized how crazy this is."

He chuckled. "I suppose you're right," he said.

"So..." I said. "Now that that's over with... Is there any other way I can be of service? Should I call you 'master' or something?"

His grin was getting bigger by the minute. "Master, huh?" He seemed to think about it for a second. "Yeah, why not. I guess you should." He shook his head, as if trying to collect his thoughts. "Not in public, though. You can't do that in public. But, well, yeah. I'm your master, and you should treat me as such."

It felt appropriate to call him master. I was, after all, his property now. "Of course, master," I said after making sure no-one could hear us. "Anything you say."

"Fuck, this is incredible," he said. "I can't believe this is working. This is like a dream come true." His grin turned to an evil smirk. "Put a finger in your ass," he said, clearly testing out his new power.

I didn't even hesitate to comply. I moved my hand down my pants and panties, and pushed a finger into my ass. "Like this, master?" I asked. Just like the idea of providing sexual relief to anyone seemed like a trivial issue, so now did the idea of letting him decide how I should act and what I should do with my body. He owned me, after all. Why would I have a say in what he did with his property?

"Good," he grinned "I'll let you get back to your work," he added. "But I'll be seeing you later." He seemed about to turn around but stopped. "Oh, and you can take the finger out now."

"Of course, master," I said and pulled my finger out.

As I watched him leave the cubicle I couldn't help but to wonder what kind of things he was going to make me do. It wasn't anything more than curiosity, though, and it wasn't like it mattered anyway. He would decide. I would just go along with it.