Of course, saying that you'll take back control of your life, and actually doing so, are two different things.
Even worse is just mentally deciding you're going to do so. That's not good for much of anything.
The first thing I did was lock my door. Just in case Theo was waiting outside and listening, I used my flight power, gently levitating over the ground before locking the top and bottom locks. I floated back to my seat before letting out a sigh of relief - yes, it was minor, but it was the first genuine bit of resistance I'd managed to Theo so far.
My office had a window, but we were on the eleventh story. The only way out the window would be to fly, and people might spot it, and figure out it was my office in particular. I could close the window behind me and hope nobody recorded it at such an angle to identify the exact window. Would people notice my disappearing act? No, they'd just assume I left, locking the door behind me, while nobody was looking.
I approached the window... and realized it wasn't designed to be opened.
We were on the eleventh story, after all. I fiddled with it for about a straight minute, having to be careful with my strength to avoid damaging it, but no - there was no way to safely open the window from the inside.
The only other exit was the door. Could I lure Theo away from the door? I didn't even know where he was.
I mentally cursed myself, realizing I was panicking so hard I'd momentarily forgotten I could see through solid objects. I used my powers, scanning through the office, and found that he was tapping away on his laptop. He'd found an inconspicuous corner to sit in, but he was facing my office door. There was absolutely no way for me to leave without him seeing me.
I could wait until he had to go to the bathroom... but it was entirely possible he'd realize his mistake by then. That he'd left me alone, without commands. Then he would come up to the door, and knock, and tell me to open the door, and ask me why I'd locked it, or how I'd gotten up to the door without him hearing the click-clack of my heels, and then he'd do his best to completely lock down my movements.
To control me. If I was lucky, he'd think I was just his CEO sex toy. A spark of electricity hit my clit at that thought. My nipples peaked as the mere idea made me aroused. I bit my lip to try to drag my thoughts back on point - which was that if I was unlucky, he'd ask me some question which would reveal I was Andromeda.
No. I wasn't risking that.
The window, then? Break it and fly away? It'd probably ruin my secret identity, but it was that or walk past the man who held the keys to my free will and very much enjoyed jangling them in front of my face.
Along with other parts of his body.
Fuck. That thought alone had me wet.
How did it work? I obeyed his verbal commands, yes, but these intense sparks of arousal that came whenever I thought about being degraded by him didn't seem to have anything to do with that. Was-
No, no, focus. It doesn't matter. You need to get away. I stood at the window, my gaze locked on him through the wall, ready to smash it and fly off like a lightning bolt the moment he got up from his seat.
My phone was still off. Did he know about that? Had he called me, while I was buying clothes? Had he given me some order I didn't remember, while I was sucking his cock, that made it so I couldn't leave? The commands didn't feel like anything, so maybe that was why I was hesitating to smash the window?
I was pretty sure he hadn't...
Alternate plan one: try to kill him. You can hit him with laser beams from here. Downside is, that will reveal my secret identity, and be murder, and it's just barely possible that this actually has nothing to do with him and he just thinks he hit the jackpot with his boss turning out to be a masochistic submissive with huge breasts who can come while sucking cock and doesn't mind watching porno on the first date.
Alternate plan two: stop him from mind controlling you. If I could actually, physically deafen myself, I probably would risk it, but I definitely could not. Could I drown out his voice? Put some heavy metal in my earbuds? Did I have a proper headset in my office? Yes, I had headphones in my office. Play heavy metal on the headphones, and run for it? Did his commands need to be verbal? Did I need to actually hear them? Too many unknowns, too risky.
Alternate plan three: get help. Another superhero or the cops. Somebody not under his control. Was it just me that he had under control? If it wasn't, we were all fucked anyway.
My head jolted upright as I realized something: I could see Theo right now. I could turn off my phone the moment he took his out, before he could call me. That meant I could contact somebody, without him calling me.
I let out a small laugh to myself as I pulled out my phone. I needed to pick who to call. Quantum? Her power actually would be quite helpful here. She had a vanity phone number, so I could remember it off the top of my head. I turned on the phone, set it to Do Not Disturb mode, typed in Quantum's number, then held the phone facing away from my head - just in case seeing a missed call from him would force me to respond - and she picked up on the third ring.
"Hello? Who's this?" Quantum asked.
"Hi," I breathed in a quiet whisper. "It's Nabel."
"Ohmigosh! Hi! This isn't your normal phone-"
"Quantum," I said. My voice was firm and sharp, and it shut her up. I opened my mouth to tell her about my being potentially mind controlled, and no noise came out. I tried to speak, but I could only make my lips smack against each other.
"Nabel?" Quantum asked, sounding worried.
"Yes," I said, managing to say that. Fuck. I couldn't tell anyone about his mind control? Fine. Fine. That was inconvenient, but survivable. "I need you to come to my office, and get me out of my office, without any of my employees seeing you or me." I let out an audible sigh of relief that I'd managed to form the words.
"Is it serious?"
Once more, my voice was stolen from me as I tried to answer. I couldn't even say 'yes.' My heart beat faster in my chest. I tried to say 'would I call you if it wasn't serious?' and that didn't come out either. My thoughts were rapidly turning fuzzy in panic as I realized I simply could not say anything to suggest that it was serious.
"Nabel?" Quantum asked again.
Yes. I couldn't even manage that. "I'm here."
"It's- well- I was actually kind of going out with Maria. I'm actually in front of her right now." A pause. "Okay. She says it's fine for me to go if it's important. So, is it?"
I mewled pitifully. The words simply could not be produced. Nothing I could think of could come out of my mouth - not Yes, not What do you think?, not Please, just do it.
"Okay. I- I'll assume it's serious," she said. I couldn't even reply to that. "I'll come over. You're at the Empyreal offices, right?"
"Yes." Finding my voice again was like a sweet blessing. Some small wedge in whatever Theo had done to my head, some door he'd forgotten to lock properly. "My office faces the north window. Come fast." I turned off my phone immediately, plopping onto my ass as I continued to stare through the wall at Theo. All I needed was for Quantum to show up first. If she didn't? If he got up to come see me? I'd rush out the window.
* * *
"Thanks," I breathed out as Quantum let me into her car. Theo was still waiting outside my office, a quick glance confirmed. "Holy fuck." I ran one hand through my hair as she started it up, beginning to drive.
"What happened? What's wrong?"
I can't say. My hand tightened into a fist and I wanted to smack myself in my jaw (or at least mime doing so), except even that, I couldn't do. I couldn't make any sign to suggest I couldn't talk, apparently.
"Okay... I guess it's pretty bad? Well, you can stay over if you need to. Or should I take you back to your place?"
"No," I said. "Not my place." He could now walk right into my suite.
Just being out from under his thumb was a sweet relief in and of itself. We drove in silence back to her place.
I was free. He didn't even know where Quantum lived, or her secret identity, or anything. He could not control me. I could - could wait for it to wear off, if it did, or come up with some way to beat it.
"Hey, Nabel," Maria called from the kitchen. "What happened?"
"She doesn't want to talk about it," Quantum said.
No, I would fucking love to talk about it, then I can tell you and you can go chop off his head with a machete while he sleeps. Couldn't say that, either. My mouth worked at the air as I cycled through a half-dozen other ideas, and yet, none of them formed into any actual sounds a human being could understand. For all my ability to speak, I might as well have had his cock in my mouth right then and there - and that thought sent a thrill straight down to my cunt.
"Okay. Well. You did kind of interrupt our date, but I know you're a serious person, so... want to play some board games?" Maria asked.
"Yes," I said, a smile on my lips. "That sounds nice."
* * *
There was more to the control than just being unable to talk, or signal, or write, about being mind controlled. When I asked to borrow Maria's computer, I couldn't even search for mind control on it. It was infuriating. I wanted to scream in frustration, but the noise died in my throat, not a single peep escaping. Was it because it wasn't my computer? He'd shown me mind control porn on his own TV!
I huffed. Quantum and Maria had gone to bed. My typing had gone in various circles, following Wikipedia around to try to navigate to pages that might have something useful, but whatever blocks forbade me from talking about my suspicions, clearly also prevented me from meaningfully investigating them.
I decided that, rather than frustrating myself all night, I'd just watch some fun videos that could help calm me down, lying down on the couch with the computer on my lap - I had to tilt my legs up so that I could see it over my breasts. I watched various comedy skits on Youtube, laughing and giggling and smiling, forgetting all about Theo for an hour.
At around five AM, I put down the computer, letting out a long sigh. I turned my gaze around, my eyes flicking around, zooming and x-raying through buildings, eventually finding my home where - in what was probably the most predictable thing ever - Theo was. He was in his underwear and shirt, sleeping in my bed, his pants and socks and shoes discarded messily. He'd clearly gone through my refrigerator, stealing some of my ice cream to eat and just leaving the carton on the kitchen island, spoon inside.
I got up from the couch, leaving Quantum's home, and started to walk down the street. I was wearing heels, so I felt somewhat awkward on my feet. I wished I wasn't wearing them; I never liked heels much, but I could zone out as I walked and got some fresh nice air, brisk against my skin. I glanced up at the moon, enjoying its fullness, and thought about taking a turn left at an intersection. There was a 24/7 supermarket over there, so I could pick up something nice to eat and head back to Quantum's.
I walked past the left turn. I thought about other places I could go, but continued on a straight line.
It took me a surprisingly long time to realize that something was wrong. I was actually only a couple blocks from my apartment before I realized I'd passed every single building and made a beeline home. As I said, the commands didn't feel like anything. It was only if I had some strong reason to resist that I'd even notice anything off - and even then, it felt more like telling yourself that you shouldn't pig out, and then you do anyway.
My every intuition was persuaded that I was completely voluntarily walking into my own apartment building, but my brain had recognized the crash course I was on. There was something left, either an order on his part I'd forgotten about, or something more like my inability to communicate anything about the mind control. As I found myself pressing the button for my floor and my apartment, I desperately hoped that I would be able to lay eyes on his (sleeping) body, and then I'd be free and able to escape.
What if I wasn't, though? What if whatever it was forced me to stay by his side?
I couldn't let him know I'd tried to escape. I couldn't let him know I suspected anything. He might ask me questions, so I should try to keep him from doing so. He might tell me to be honest (or might have already, or might have some other command lodged in my head). What would be the most reasonable thing to say? I spent the evening with a friend of mine; we played board games and chatted. I couldn't use my phone, so I borrowed her housemate's computer. I watched Youtube videos and forgot all about you for a bit.
I wouldn't mention that they were lesbians, just for the risk that he'd decide to do the same thing to them. Though, the thought of Quantum and Maria, forced to kneel before Theo, lesbianism forgotten as their brains got fried like mine, made me instantly wet, my panties starting to soak as the elevator arrived at my floor.
I crept at a gentle pace into my own apartment. Theo was still asleep; it was only six sixteen, according to my bedside alarm clock. I didn't even know what I was in the bedroom to do, until I raised the blanket and crawled under it.
I wasn't going to cuddle up at his side.
A memory flashed through my brain: "Wake me up with a blowjob every day."
As that thought resurfaced, my fingers hooked into the waistband of his boxers, tugging them down. He was currently flaccid, but I leaned forward towards his cock anyway.
All that effort coming up with excuses turned out to be pointless. My mouth was going to be otherwise occupied.
The taste of cocksweat was particularly intense. He definitely hadn't taken a bath last night - it was almost overpowering, salty on my tongue as I wrapped my lips around his cock. I just engulfed the still-flaccid thing in my mouth, lips wrapping around the base easily. I flicked my tongue against the underside of his cock, not sure what else to do. He wasn't awake, just yet, and I just sort of... sat there. My hands casually pressed against my bed as my tongue gingerly started to lick at the underside of his dick.
It was an incredibly humiliating situation, being forced to literally walk across town to come suck Theo's cock. By extension, my clit desperately throbbed as I held myself down there.
I decided that since I was stuck there, with a cock in my mouth, I might as well just enjoy myself. My tongue started to lick at it, and I closed my eyes and let myself just focus on feeling the sensation. The sharp taste of his salty, intense flavor was a constant companion as my tongue got more and more enthusiastic. The burning hot humiliation of the whole situation only intensified my arousal, my clit starting to rub against my panties uncomfortably, my body becoming increasingly sensitive.
I had been dragged across town. I had come home, to my own house, merely to crawl into bed with Theo and stuff his cock in my mouth. I had tried to escape, I'd imagined I had successfully gotten away - only to instead have my free will overridden by an absent sexual command that Theo had given me in the heat of the moment.
He hadn't even outwitted me. If he'd actually outmaneuvered me, it wouldn't have been as humiliating. No, the command had just been him thinking, You know what's hot? Wake-up blowjobs. Let's make Darla give me one of those.
As I marinated and stewed on those thoughts, my arousal continued to climb and climb. My legs fidgeted as I resisted the increasing urge to just stuff my hand down into my cunt and start frigging myself. Drool slipped out of my mouth, running down the cock that was within it, dripping onto his balls. His length finally started to harden in my mouth, and my eyes opened, hoping that he was conscious - but if he was, he showed no signs of it, simply remaining still as I remained under the covers.
His cock rapidly reached the point that it was pressing against the back of my throat. My gag reflex started to act up again, making me twitch and jerk, and I drew myself up several inches as I blinked away tears. I held what of his cock I could get in my mouth.
I realized as I slid up that he could wake up at any moment and push my head down. A soft mewl escaped my throat on automatic, as arousal mixed with fear - the humiliation of being at his mercy, along with wanting not to be forced to gag and choke on his cock. Even if I was in no physical danger, I didn't like it.
Or, I did like it, but-
I decided I wanted to make sure he came quickly. That I wanted to suck his dick so good that he came in my mouth without needing to drag me down his dick, so I wouldn't end up choking on his cock.
I started to lick more intensely, my tongue becoming highly active in my mouth. My head twisted from side to side, and I brought up one hand, stroking what of his cock wasn't in my mouth. My glasses started to swing around on my face - I hadn't taken them off before sucking his dick, and they were no longer properly perched on my nose, given my position - and I got more intense with it, wanting to just fling them off so they'd stop bothering me.
I succeeded; they fell somewhere on my sheets next to me. It was only after they hit the mattress that I realized I could have just taken them off with my hand, but I pushed it aside. I had to suck. I had to get him off. If I got him off faster, then he wouldn't choke me on his dick.
Theo let out a soft groan of pleasure, my work beginning to yield fruit. My movements intensified in response to the sound. I started to bob more thoroughly, adding in slurping to the sucking, my cheeks hollowing as I worked.
My thoughts were torn in two directions. On the one hand, my arousal was reaching an obscene fever-pitch, the hand that wasn't on his dick clawing at the sheets, as I thought about the fact that I was putting more effort into sucking off my rapist than any boyfriend I'd ever had. On the other hand, I needed to get him off for entirely selfish, nonsexual reasons, so I could get away or at least not get my throat fucked again. The former occupied most of my headspace, constantly swiping at anything more sophisticated; the latter served to keep me bobbing and working fast even when I managed to pull myself together enough to think.
Eventually, I gave up entirely on the idea of trying to restrain my thoughts. I had to suck this cock. I, quite literally, didn't have a choice. What was the point of not enjoying it? I let the arousal wash over me, and just worked, moaning softly around his dick as I felt my body become increasingly sensitive.
I became the mechanical process of the blowjob, purposefully losing myself in the act itself and the intense arousal. Slurp on it. Suck on it. Lick it. Twist your head. Stroke what's not in your mouth.
At that point, Theo finally raised the sheets up, grinning down as he saw me sucking him off. There was a glimmer of that same contempt in his eyes - Of course you're down there sucking me off first thing - and he casually glanced over at my bedside clock, smiling as he saw that I hadn't woken him at 3AM today. "Hey, Darla," he said, as I continued to enthusiastically suck on his cock. "Aren't you a little overdressed for this?"
I just mewled softly around his cock in response, not wanting to talk or remove it from my mouth, just wanting him to come. It wasn't that the act itself was painful - it's that I was functionally edging myself by refusing to touch myself, and my last flickering embers of logic and reason were struggling to come up with a reason I shouldn't just start frantically masturbating.
"Yeah, you are. Take off that shirt, that skirt - hah, you're still wearing shoes? Those have to go too." I let out a whimper as I peeled myself up and off his cock. My arousal was intense as I took off the shirt, moving with desperate energy to toss it to one side. I pulled up the blanket in the process, the thing falling behind me, the cool air brushing against bare skin. I wiggled and wormed my way out of my skirt just about as fast as I could - and then I got back to sucking dick.
I was so horny, so pent up, I didn't even consider if I still had to keep sucking dick until the thing had hit my gag reflex in my desperation to put it in my mouth. After all, I'd been able to take it out to strip, so maybe one order overrode another? Maybe the fact that he'd woken up was enough?
I decided it didn't matter. I just wanted him to come. I was in my underwear, in my own bed, my employee's cock in my mouth as I desperately slurped all over his cock. He smiled down at me, casually stroking my hair, petting me softly. "That's a good girl," he breathed out. "Fuck," he sighed, casually reaching for my hairband and pulling it off, letting my hair fall around my features as I continued to desperately slurp on his cock.
All my hard work failed to get him to come, though, and at that point, his hand landed on my head. I mewled, looking up at him, caught between asking for mercy and my own arousal - and that, in turn, sent a sharp spike of arousal from my clit straight up to my brain. The firm way his hand pressed down on my head, his cock attacking my throat once more, my gag reflex spasming, tears forming in my eyes, all served to further enhance my arousal.
"Don't worry, we'll train that gag reflex out of you yet," he breathed out, forcing me all the way down his cock as he explained it all. My throat spasmed as my nose was mashed into his pubes. My brain felt like it was frying, but it wasn't the spasming, instinctive panic of my gag reflex at that point - it was the raw, overpowering arousal that his cruelty and directness had forced on me. My body trembled and jerked, nipples perking up inside my bra, and my pussy just wept all over the inside of my panties.
His gaze wandered my body, making him speak up again. "Man, you really don't wear very sexy underwear, huh?" I just made a wet noise around his cock as he choked me out on it, holding me in place. I was stuck gagging around his dick as he insulted my choice of underwear - and my clit throbbed at that thought. "We should work on filling out your wardrobe with some sexier stuff. You liked dressing sexy at work, didn't you?"
I came into my office, got immediately fucked on my own desk, and then escaped in this outfit.
I had a dick in my mouth, so I couldn't point that out. I probably wouldn't have, even if so. Being leered at by all my employees - possibly making it impossible for some of them to ever see me the same way - had been objectifying, humiliating, and, yes, arousing.
Still. I needed to decide on whether to play along with his ideas, or not... but the right answer would be something like, It was nice, but I'd rather not do it all the time. I didn't actually want to show up looking like that every day.
You couldn't get that out in a head shake or a nod, and he was gripping the back of my head, so I just made a mumbled noise around his dick, making the thing twitch in my mouth - and he promptly peeled me up and off, letting me breathe normally for a moment before I spoke. "It was nice, but I'd rather not do it all the time." His expression said he didn't like that answer, and given that he had the power to force me to do literally anything he ordered, I desperately searched through my brain for something to dissuade him from ordering me to do something stupid and degrading. "I'd rather dress professionally at work, I'm worried about the guys starting to think differently of me, and then it'll be hard to manage them properly, and-mmf!" I was floundering, but luckily he shut me up by shoving his cock down my throat, making me gag as my body spasmed.
He just held me on his dick, looking down at me, and I could see in his eyes that he was deciding what to do with me. What to make me do. My pussy spasmed again, as I mewled pitifully around his cock, looking up at him with teary eyes as I silently begged him for mercy. I couldn't do anything else.
It took him an incredibly long time. In a very real sense, my entire life could be destroyed by him giving me some spiteful order because he was upset about my backtalk. If he ordered me to dress even sexier to work; if he decided to force me to quit my job; or any of a dozen other things. Those thoughts bubbled to my head, unbidden by any particular words on his part, and they made my clit desperately throb.
Eventually, though, he just sighed. "Yeah, I guess that's true," he admitted. "But you should dress sexy when it's just the two of us," he concluded. "And that underwear isn't sexy. So strip down until you're naked."
He didn't remove his hand from the back of my head, as I undid my bra strap and wriggled my way out of it, tits bouncing and smacking at his thighs. I was being choked out on his cock all the while, my throat continuing its lazy spasming as it tried to eject the foreign obstruction. Getting my panties off was difficult - they were sticky with how much of my juices I'd leaked all over them, and there was a snapping noise as they finally peeled away.
"You're wet, huh, slut? You saw me lying in bed and you couldn't help yourself. Had to start sucking my cock like a good little bitch," he grunted, his cock twitching as he verbally degraded me like that, my cunt spasming in the air as I continued to resist the urge to masturbate. His hips casually bucked at my face, balls slapping at my chin. "I like it," he added. "I like what a depraved little bitch you are for me. Go ahead and play with yourself."
It felt like just giving in to the urge, as my hand slid down towards my cunt. Rationally, it had to be a consequence of the mind control, but it felt perfectly normal, as my fingers brushed against my clit. The moment I touched myself, I came, spasming around his cock, throat gulping and choking around his dick as an intensely powerful pent-up orgasm came to me, wiping out all my thoughts in a heartbeat. He casually shifted his grip on my hair, and I didn't even care any more, as he started to softly jerk me up and down his length, forcing me to service him.
My throat wetly gagged with each thrust, the wet glugs loud as he forced me up and down overpoweringly loud in my ears. I didn't care about the gagging sensation. My hand was focused on self-pleasure, and my mind quickly lost itself to that self-pleasure, letting everything wash over me. I was meat. I was a jerkoff aid. I was a slut. I was a bitch. Thoughts like that bubbled to the surface of my mind before popping like foam. My brain, addled as it was by the arousal and the masturbation, simply mentally associated thinking things like that with pleasure, and any higher functions were wiped out by the fast-and-hard orgasms I was experiencing.
I lost myself in those sorts of crude, misogynistic, degrading thoughts. I can appreciate the beauty of it. Theo didn't even have to say anything. Instead, my brain offered up these ideas all on its own, burying itself in mindless, self-degrading pleasure, my clit and my cunt overruling everything I'd believed as I soaked myself in arousal.
Eventually, he blew his load all over my face. I wasn't even really consciously aware of it, I wouldn't say. White spunk splattered against my face, and my brain was so fucked and horny that all I thought was things like I'm his cumrag. He's using me like a tissue. I kept frantically masturbating the whole time, pleasure sandblasting away all higher thought.
When he finished, he sighed, letting go of my hair. "That's a nice wakeup call," he breathed out, his dick twitching in front of my face, still hard. "Where were you last night? I figured we'd meet up here and have some fun."
"Friend's house," I mumbled at last, able to recall at least my defined answer. "Visiting."
"A male friend?" His expression momentarily sharpened.
"No," I said, still quivering as I managed to force my hand out of my cunt.
He seemed to consider that enough to throw the whole line of questioning out. It seemed obscene for him to be jealous of me visiting a male friend, given he was literally mind controlling me, but I couldn't muster up the energy to be enraged about it. "You look good like that," he noted, reaching for the nightstand to grab his phone. He took some shots of me, on my hands and knees, cum plastered all over my features. He stretched. "Let's take a shower," he said at last, standing up and getting off the bed. I got up to follow him, and he immediately stopped me. "No. Don't stand," he ordered. "Crawl. You look good on your hands and knees."
I got down on my knees, and dutifully crawled alongside him, knees brushing across carpet and then tile as we made our way to the bathroom. My tits hung low, swinging back and forth with every step, and I know I looked obscene like that, slowly making my way into the bathroom. My pussy wept with yet more arousal, and Theo purposefully let himself fall behind me, his gaze always on my ass or my tits, never on my face.
It wasn't much of a journey, but it was still an intensely humiliating (and, by extension, arousing) one. He drew me into the shower alongside him, but once we were there, he planted his hand on my head before I could get up. "No standing. Stay on your knees until I tell you otherwise."
I should have been pissed at the order, but the soup of arousal still had my brain interpreting every degrading command as erotic, so instead I mewled pitifully. He just smirked, taking off his clothes and letting his hard cock bob in front of my face. He casually slapped it against me, smearing his earlier cum around, his scent filling my nostrils, the salt of cocksweat and that particular smell of cum. He just casually rubbed his dick on my face, and I sat there and took it, my arousal rising once more, nipples perking up.
Then the warm water of his shower hit us both, splashing onto his stomach and my head. It washed away the cum on my face, and he immediately just grabbed my hair, pointing his cock at my lips and pushing his dick into my mouth.
Water rained down on us both as he used my mouth like that, casually jerking off with me in the shower. My pussy spasmed hungrily, and I reached down for my cunt again. I'd just been frigging my own brains out on the bed, and crawling over here, being forced to kneel, had kept me so horny that I didn't care to resist the urge. Pleasure hit my brain like a lightning bolt, shocking away all higher thought.
I didn't even lick his dick. I was an inert sex toy for him to masturbate with, my lips and throat unmoving besides guttural noises of pleasure. My gag reflex seemed to have been at least temporarily worn down, because the brutal throatfucking I received didn't prompt any gagging, my eyes just rolling around in their sockets.
I was letting myself become the dim little fucktoy he wanted. It was a form of escapism, in a sense. I had to suck his dick, so I might as well just let everything that might have made it unpleasant leave my brain. It was an almost meditative state, thoughts emptying out as I bobbed. Up and down, my mouth moved along his cock.
He said things to me - cruel, degrading things - but I honestly couldn't tell you what they were. I only have the vaguest sense of them; my thoughts were that emptied out. Various things about being a bitch and a slut, or something like that. Occasionally, he'd slap my tits, sending another spike of pleasure to my foggy brain, and I'm pretty sure there was some commentary on them, too. Maybe about how fat and sexy they were, or how it was a shame I was covering them up. I don't really know.
Eventually he blew his load straight down my throat, cum fired straight into my stomach, and then pulled out with a sigh.
He let the water wash over us both, not fucking my mouth again. Although his dick remained erect and mere inches from my face, my arousal eventually declined to the point I could regain my self control and pull my hand out of my cunt with a soft pant of my own. I thought about standing up, but my knees refused to cooperate, leaving me kneeling in the shower, Theo's hand casually planted on my head as he brushed my hair. He actually put the shampoo in himself, working it into my head, which was weirdly kind of him.
That was part of the reason I hadn't tried to kill him, I guess. He acted like he was my dominant, sexually sadistic boyfriend, not some jackass misogynist with a mind control ray he'd blasted me with. There was still that thin possibility that he was innocent in all this.
I did wonder, as my brain started to pull itself back together, what the hell I would do if that were the situation. Suppose that it really was the alien or something? Some space drug? I'd imprinted on him, my mind molding itself into becoming his sex slave? What would I do then?
I guess I'd have no choice but to do what I was doing right now: obey his every whim and come my brains out. But suppose it wore off? What would I tell him? Sorry, I wasn't myself, let's break things off?
He casually directed my mouth back onto his dick, using me like a wet towel to wipe his dick down, before tugging me off. I let out a hot pant as his dick left my throat.
"There we go," he said, with the cooing delight of a pet owner. "See? We're getting rid of that gag reflex of yours, Darla." He turned off the shower, leaving us both to start to shiver in the cool air. "Now, dry yourself off and go make us some breakfast like a good girl."
I waddled over towards the towels, still on my knees, and I saw his cock twitch at the show. I realized, then, that I'd only moved like that because he'd ordered me not to stand up until given the order to... and as I dried myself off, and he refused to give me any fresh commands, I knew he wasn't about to let me stand. My pussy absently clenched around empty air, my clit pulsing, and I realized I hadn't even gotten fucked since yesterday. He'd used my mouth, and I'd let my brains drool out of my cunt as I got my mouth fucked.
There was another pulse of arousal at that particular realization, but I was already crawling off towards the kitchen. He walked alongside me, clearly loving to watch me go like that. It must have been quite the sight, his boss crawling on her hands and knees across her apartment towards her own kitchen. Once I arrived, he spoke again. "Alright, you can stand up," he said, and I did so. I half-expected to wobble off balance, getting up so fast, but my powers keep that from being a problem. He casually patted my cheek. "That's a good girl," he told me, then slid one hand down to just grope my tit.
I let out another pitiful mewl. Arousal warred with pride, and my thoughts fogged up as I got groped like that. I took a half-step backwards, and I briefly thought I was resisting, before my hand reached up for the cabinets, opening one.
I had to make breakfast, and the fact that Theo was just about mauling my tit didn't stop that. When I turned to look through the cabinets, mentally cataloging items to try to pick something nice and easy out - I really didn't know the first thing about cooking - Theo wrapped his hands around either breast, pushing into me from behind. I could feel his erection through his underwear - he'd gotten to put on his boxers and shirt - but I just tried to focus on making breakfast.
Ultimately, I'm not even close to a cook. The way he casually pawed at me and pushed at me from behind may have been the sort of thing that could have come off as affectionate if I hadn't realized I was being mind controlled - but, fortunately, I had. However, that actually made it worse, as being forced to play out his bizarre housewife fantasies was intensely degrading rather than the 'cute' I probably would have found it.
As a consequence of the quiet stew of arousal and the fact that I didn't know the first thing about cooking, breakfast was something simple and easy: a couple bowls of cereal and a couple glasses of some diet soda.
"Not much of a cook, are you?" My clit throbbed at those words, the casual degradation of them. I had a PhD and ran a successful tech company and he was treating my cooking skills like they were more important. Because I was a woman and he wanted me to play out his housewife fantasies properly. "Well, we can work on that. I'll buy you a cookbook and you can put that big brain of yours to use studying." His fingers shifted from just groping my tits roughly, to teasing my nipples, pinching and rotating them. I let out a hot breath in response to the stimulation, trembling in his grasp. "You know something nice about this meal, though, Darla?" I shook my head - and he pushed me down onto the kitchen island, my hard nipples scraping against the marble surface. "We can wait a little bit to enjoy it."
I moaned in anticipation, my cunt instantly alight with arousal. I panted as I felt him tug down his underwear, his hard cock popping out, slapping against my ass. He pointed it right at my cunt - and then stopped. I could feel the tip teasing at my lower lips, and I sat there, waiting for the moment he'd shove it in. Words were beyond me, so I just mewled, desperately wiggling in place. I pushed my cunt back into him, taking the first couple inches, but the angle was all wrong to fuck myself on his cock.
He laughed at the show, casually smacking my ass. It made me immediately come, my pussy spasming around the first two inches of his cock as my brain stuttered and my cunt wept. "I was trying to tease you so you'd beg for it, you horny little bitch," he told me, leaning down over me, pressing me down against the table. His breath was hot in my ear, the feeling of being compressed against the kitchen island feeling good and enticing, my cunt casually squeezing down on his dick as I continued my orgasm. "I guess you need it too much," he said, and I whimpered softly, feeling simultaneously humiliated and elated all over again. "But, Darla," he breathed. "What are you going to do for me, in exchange for getting this dick you've been craving all morning?"
I moaned beneath him at that, knowing what sorts of things he wanted me to say. Flashes of inspiration, of humiliating lines, ran through my brain. I'd spent so much of the morning stewing on my own arousal; I'd given up on getting free for the moment, and in that time, I'd let every awful thought run its free course through my mind, picking and choosing the ones that were the cruelest and felt the best.
As such, the words bubbled out of my mouth without much thought. "I'm just a needy little bitch, I need your dick, I'll do anything for it," I whined. I didn't try to argue that I'd already sucked him off to completion twice that day, that I'd crawled around at his behest and made him breakfast. It wouldn't have worked, anyway. "I need it, I'll suck you, I'll crawl, I'll let you dress me, I'll learn to coo~ook!" I squealed as he finally thrust himself balls deep inside me at that last line, his dick driving deep inside me, his balls slapping against my clit.
He groaned as he hilted inside me and my pussy once more spasmed wildly around his cock. I was milking and squeezing at his length, my body doing its best to get him off. My nipples ground against the cool marble of the kitchen island as fireworks went off in my brain. He immediately started to rut inside me, leaning up but keeping me pinned down against the island, his cock ramming at my cunt again and again and again.
"You're such a hot little fuckdoll," he said, and my pussy spasmed hungrily around his dick. "God, I love it. I know what's going on with you, Darla," he breathed out, and my body tightened up, my brain managing to pull itself together enough to wonder if he was about to reveal that he had mind controlled me. He just kept rutting away, either not noticing or not caring about the tension in my body, as I waited for the pin to drop. "You're an all natural masochist and submissive," he told me, "but no guy's ever been willing and able to show you what that means. They were all intimidated by your mind. You've always wanted a guy who can just order you to suck his dick - you just never knew it."
That wasn't true. It wasn't. It was something he was making up, trying to gaslight me, to convince me that what he'd done to me was natural, to help grind my self-identity down so I would accept this as natural part of myself. If he'd acted faster, it might even have worked; if I'd been just a little bit dumber, a little bit more out of it from sleep deprivation owing to arousal. Hell, if I'd slept at all, rather than marinating in my thoughts over at his place for hours until I realized something was wrong.
Still, all that was irrelevant to how to respond here. He wanted to convince me of this. He wanted me to believe it, even if it wasn't true.
So I nodded. It was easy to make the words sound sincere, since my brain was currently being boiled in a hot stew of arousal. "Yes, yes, I've come more in the past couple days than over my whole life, fuck me, Theo, fuck me good like only you can."
He responded by starting to just ram away, lost in his own lust for the moment. He grabbed my hair, yanking me up by it, dragging my head and twisting it, then forcing his lips against mine. With his free hand, he roughly groped and squeezed my tit, as his hips just pounded inside me. There was a faint clattering from the island as my body repeatedly got slammed against it, but I didn't care. His tongue was invading my mouth, my rapist was kissing me, violating me, and my pussy just molded itself around his cock before I came all over again. His hand roughly pawed at my tit, and when he gave up holding onto my hair, I kept myself there, kept myself upright so he could keep kissing me as he played with my tits like they were stress balls.
His fingers sank into my tits as we wetly, sloppily, made out in that position. Hot breaths escaped his mouth. Saliva dripped down onto my shoulder, and then slid down onto my tits. My pussy melted, my clit practically vibrated, and the cock inside me drove me to orgasm after orgasm as we just fucked like that.
Most likely, Theo intended to use this long makeout followed by a shared breakfast to convince me that this is what I wanted. As such, I couldn't entirely blame him for what my mind was doing as I got fucked in that position. I didn't enjoy it by imagining it to be intense, loving sex between a man and a woman caught up in an incredible level of sexual chemistry - instead, I emphasized the fact that this wasn't voluntary, that I was being forced into doing this, that I was being made to fuck and suck against my will. Not as some titanic act of will to keep myself in my right mind, either: it was purely meant to make me get off that much faster.
Ruminating on the fact that I was being forced into this, that there was nothing I could do but accept getting fucked, that Theo could and had forced me to act as his morning cockwarmer, his chef, even his towel, that he'd made me dress sexy and crawl around my own apartment... it all just intensified my arousal and made me come fast and hard, which of course encouraged me to keep doing it.
I am being forced into this. Theo is just using me. He thinks I'm stupid. He thinks he can trick me. He thinks he can control me with my needy pulsing cunt. He thinks I'm ruled by my clit. He wants to make my brains dribble out all over his cunt. He's going to keep doing this. He's going to do it again, and again. He's kissing me so I think this is loving and sincere rather than his malevolent conquest of me. He's mauling my tits because they're the only part of me he actually cares about.
Thoughts like that bounced around the inside of my skill as orgasm after orgasm hit me, until - at last - he finally came inside me, groaning as he bottomed out. The feeling of his spunk hitting my insides made me absently twitch, my thoughts gently cycling the proverbial drain as I imagined myself a cumrag, a fleshlight, a willing fucktoy for my rapist, and then he pulled out of me.
"That was good, babe," he said, smacking my ass sharply, and I bit my lip to avoid coming. He tugged his pants back up, taking his bowl and soda to the table. "Come on. Bring yours over too."
I wobbled slightly, and I was so out of it with pleasure that I almost used my flight power, as I sometimes did when I was alone in my house and feeling too lazy to walk. Instead, I stepped, barefoot, over to the table, and just about devoured my meal, sucking down the soda and carnivorously digging my spoon into the bowl before slurping down every last drop of the stuff. Theo watched in surprise as I ate like a famished woman.
"What, did you not eat last night?" He asked; he'd only started to gently chew at his meal.
"It's thirsty work," I said, and he let out a small laugh in reply, which honestly seemed actually genuine.
"I guess it is," he agreed, a smile on his lips. His eyes dipped down to my tits, and I felt a flush hit my cheeks - I was still naked, of course, showing off my body to his invasive gaze. "I always wondered why you dress down so much. If you have such a hot body, why not show it off?"
"I am a CEO, I need to retain a degree of professionalism." I desperately hoped he wasn't about to make me start dressing in increasingly provocative ways at work.
"Sure, sure," he said, waving me off dismissively, like my words were unimportant. "But I was picking through your outfits while you were out, and it's all crap like that. Sweaters and loose slacks and other garbage. Nothing that actually shows off your body. Outside of work, why not dress up and show yourself off?"
Because I hate being ogled by dozens of strangers. Because I hate being judged as a slut just because I have large breasts and dressed nicely that morning.
Or, I did. Those thoughts sent a pulse to my clit now, my nipples perking up again as the idea of being paraded around in some skimpy slutwear came to mind. "People are judgemental," I said.
I had been taught, over and over again, throughout my whole life, that people will never see me as both sexually attractive and brilliant - only ever one or the other. Even you, right now, are doing the very same thing, presuming that just because I have big tits I'm oblivious to what you've done to me.
"Oh, come on," he said, waving his hand dismissively. "Maybe that holds water at work, but what do you care if somebody on the street 'judges' you? I've listened to more than a couple of your interviews, maybe you'd be less socially anxious about it if you weren't so concerned about stuff like that." I remained silent, already knowing where this was going, but having no real ability to stop him other than by trying my luck at shoving the table so hard into him that he got bisected before he could finish his sentence - but that would be murder. "Meet me after work today. We'll go clothes shopping."
I let out a small breath. Another avenue of escape, closed off. "Sure," I said, plastering on a smile. "I'll try some things on, if you like." If I acted like I was unambiguously consenting, he'd be less likely to box me in with commands like that.
He finished his meal at that point, slurping down the last of the soda and letting out a crude belch. At that point, he stood up. "Right. Well, I've got to get home to grab some new clothes," he said, casually reaching out and groping my tit as he passed me by, finding his pants where he'd tossed them on my couch. I twitched in response to the touch, my hips momentarily bucking up into the air, but I otherwise remained in my chair as he got himself dressed. "Oh," he said. "I couldn't call your phone last night. It had me worried."
"Sorry," I said. "I, uh, turned it off." He just frowned at that. "Didn't want board game with my friend to get interrupted."
"I see. Well, turn it back on, and leave it on." He leaned down to kiss me on the cheek - then decided to lean down further to kiss the tops of my tits, my cunt pulsing at the brush of his lips against them. "I don't want to have to worry about you. See you at work, Darla," he called out from the door, before closing it.
I let out a long sigh as he closed the door.
I was still trapped, but at least I wasn't trapped in the room with him for the time being.
I resisted the temptation to go masturbate, and instead took another quick shower before getting dressed for work.
It was going to be a long day.
The next two chapters are available on my Subscribestar. You can access them at https://subscribestar.adult/posts/2336487 and https://subscribestar.adult/posts/2359456 for only $3. Chapters will be posted on Subscribestar two weeks in advance.