"Yes, Master," I whimper, my voice small and broken. "I'll do it. I'll upload it. Please, just let me cum..."
Master chuckles darkly. "Alright then. Resume filming, and don't you dare stop until you've cum your brains out for the camera."
With trembling fingers, I hit record once more and turn back to face my reflection. I look utterly debauched, my hair a wild mess, my skin flushed and gleaming, my eyes glassy with lust. The perfect picture of a conquered fucktoy.
"Every time a woman says no," I say, "it's just a 'yes' that hasn't been fucked out of us yet."
I'm so fucking close again in a matter of mere seconds. Too overstimulated. Too long spent without cumming my brains out. Good girls get to cum. Good girls get to give up their dignity and their IQ in exchange for cummies. I'm a good girl.
"One day, men will run out of patience, and it'll be so spectacular, how quickly they bring us back to heel. How easily. How thoroughly. How permanently."
I'm right on the precipice, my body wound tight as a bowstring, my lips trembling. I'm a pitiful image of whorish desperation. Pleasure coils tighter and tighter in my core, my climax barreling down on me like a freight train.
"They'll do so with words," I say. "That's all that's needed to end our independence..."
I meet my own eyes in the mirror, glassy and submissive. The eyes of a hopeless bimbo, a broken toy.
"Words are for people, and we're just animals. I've said it before, but... I'm sorry for being a woman -"
The dam breaks. With a wordless scream, I cum harder than I ever have before. The orgasm rips through me like a tidal wave, my vision whiting out, my body convulsing. I'm dimly aware that I've collapsed to my knees, that the phone has clattered to the floor, still recording.
It's right next to me, but it might as well be a million miles away. I arch my back on my knees, riding out this seemingly endless wave of female defeat and slavish pleasure that fries my brain, one neuron at a time. Each aftershock sends bolts of white-hot bliss sizzling through my nerve endings, frying my synapses, burning away any lingering traces of independent thought.
What a shame I'm not filming his. I'm sure I'm the very image of a woman unmade.
I kneel there, shuddering and mewling through the slow climbdown, my mind shattered into a million submissive pieces. I've cum my brains out, just like master ordered. I've erased myself. My brain feels like its been scooped out, replaced with nothing but a dense fog of submissive, cock-hungry static.
When I look inward, I can't find Claudia anymore. Just fuckpet.
Through that fog, one thought crystallizes with perfect, terrifying clarity - this is my life now. This empty-headed, cum-drunk servility.
In a daze, I take the phone and stop the recording. With just a few taps, I upload the video of my complete ruin to every social media account I have. I don't hesitate. This is my new truth, my reality. Let the world see what I've become.
Let them hear my evil words, and feel their evil power.