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Author's Note: Stories on this site may contain fiction of an adult nature. They may contain themes involving Incest, under age sex, rape, bestiality, drugs or alcohol abuse. If these subjects make you uncomfortable please exit now. The stories are meant for the entertainment of adults as defined by your local government or society, if you are below this age please exit now. The author does not condone or encourage anyone to act in real life the way the characters depicted in this story act.
Published : 26 June 2021
Blonde Cunt Magazine where women and young girls are for sale Other stories by Steven Seven can be found here By Steven Seven Story Code: M/F, M/g, F/F, M-dom, Oral, Anal, WS, Sex slaves, Porn
Chapter 1
Chapter 1 I didn't join the FBI to investigate sex crimes. As a woman burdened by her own beauty, this hits too close to home for me. I've attracted unwanted attention from men and boys for as long as I can remember. I have blonde hair, blue eyes, and very fair skin. People always told me I was the prettiest little girl they'd ever seen. My mother told me I was so beautiful I should compete in little girl beauty pageants. I resisted but she forced me. I suspect she always hoped that I'd have a career in show business or modeling. I was cured of having any such ambition when I was still a child. I can't even count the number of times men and boys touched me inappropriately. They touched my chest, my crotch, and my bottom. I barely escaped being abducted twice. I was corned and nearly raped twice. Luckily, my screams were heard by good men who drove off the bad ones or beat them up. The police were never called. As I got older and my breasts started to grow, my problem of unwanted attention got even worse. By the time I was 18, my breasts were so big I was embarrassed. I started wearing loose-fitting garments and restraining bras so my breasts didn't bulge out like twin mountains on my chest. To complicate matters, I'm mildly autistic. I don't read social cues very well. Other people's emotional reactions baffle me. I much prefer numbers, rules, and systematic thinking. And I'm fairly intelligent. That's why I studied accounting and finance in college. It's why, after college, I took a job with Ernst & Young, one of the country's top accounting firms. And it's why I ditched an accounting career in the business world in favor of government. The FBI promised security and relative freedom from on-the-job sexual harassment that the private sector couldn't match. I would be doing forensic accounting on a computer with nice spreadsheets, IRS filings, and other such material, while sitting safely behind a desk. So how did I, Lena Muller, the girl from rural Pennsylvania who was too pretty for her own good, end up investigating an online sex ring? In one sense, the answer is easy: It's because I am so pretty and they needed me as bait. In another sense, it's hard for me to understand, because I'm not the right type of person to do undercover investigations. I take everything too literally. I can't read people's faces very well. Quite often I can't tell the intention behind the things they tell me. I can't always tell the difference between a joke and a threat. I could have refused the assignment. But my supervisor and her supervisor and his supervisor all knew that I was easily manipulated. It didn't take much to convince me that this assignment was important. All they really had to do was show me the videos. I went into that meeting quite nervous. Meetings of any kind were always difficult for me. But this one was off-the-charts scary. I knew what it was going to be about. I had no idea how shook up it would make me in the end. I sat at a long table in the meeting room. To my left was Sarabeth St. James, my immediate supervisor. To my right was James Trowbridge, her supervisor. Across the table from us were some men and women that were introduced to me by their first names only. They had been working on this case for over a year. Their identities were not to be disclosed. I was told to refer to them as Alice, Bob, Chuck, and Donna. These first-name-only people explained the basics of the investigation. About a year ago, they had learned of a new sexual exploitation racket on the Dark Web called Blonde Cunt Magazine. The Dark Web is the part of the Internet that Google cannot search but criminals can exploit for their nefarious purposes. Only 4% of the web is visible to Google and other search engines. The other 96% is in the Deep Web, which consists of some legitimate corporate websites that store sensitive data, plus the Dark Web that hosts a lot of semi-legal and illegal content. That's where illegal sales of guns, drugs, and child pornography flourish. Alice, Bob, Chuck, and Donna took turns speaking. After one finished, another one would immediately pick up the narrative and move it along. The information was coming at me so fast. I scribbled notes in my notebook, but I couldn't keep up. The gist of what they told me went like this: The Dark Web site called Blonde Cunt Magazine features naked blonde women and girls in the most compromising ways. The website advertises videos, still photos, and paid encounters with these females using crypto-currencies like Bitcoin. It's a one-stop-shop for pornography and prostitution, including some extremely young girls. FBI agents, using fake identities, had tried to buy access to the website. They could get videos and photos, but had no luck getting into the prostitution part. The youngest girls that they could positively identify for certain was 5-years-old. They could not identify any of the younger girls. If the video clips I was shown were a fairly representative sample, then a plurality of the girls seemed to of an age range between 10 and 16. The second largest group seemed to be young women between about 20 and 24, many of them with very large breasts. They team had identified some of the women. The oldest woman was 39. All of them, women and young girls, were very pretty. Blonde Cunt Magazine offered still images and videos of these women and girls in all kinds of scenes. In some scenes they were just posing nude. In others they were having sex with men of all ages. Even the very youngest girls were made to do the most extreme sex acts of the sort that few adult women would do voluntarily, even in XXX-rated pornography. The men and the women and girls in the videos and photos were all white. Other than that, they had very few things in common. While the women and girls were all blonde and beautiful, the men were often ugly. Some were old and fat. Others were teenagers who probably weren't old enough to drive. The faces of the men and boys were all obscured by digital pixilation. Their voices were also digitally distorted. Not so with the girls, though. From the youngest to the oldest, their faces were completely visible, and their voices were crystal clear. You could hear every grunt, gurgle, groan, moan, and scream. I was made to watch some excerpts from many of these videos. Each was only a few minutes-long. Thankfully, I was spared from having to watch the entire videos, which were 45 to 90 minutes long. Alice, Bob, Chuck, and Donna probably chose these particular excerpts because they knew these would upset me the most. I watched a fat old man have sex with two beautiful teenaged blonde girls at once. The girls seemed completely innocent and almost hypnotized. They said and did whatever he told them to. He sodomized one girl and then made the other girl perform fellatio on his soiled penis. Then he switched the girls and did the same thing with the other one. When he was approaching climax, he forced one girl to take his penis as far down her throat as was humanly possible. When he was ready to ejaculate, he kept his erection so far down the poor girl's throat that she began to turn blue from lack of air. Fortunately for her, he ejaculated before she passed out. As bad as that was, what was even worse was how these girls reacted to being sexually abused. They loved it! I couldn't believe what I was seeing and hearing. But these girls did not look or act like prostitutes, except insofar as they were willing to do absolutely anything the man wanted without reluctance or complaint. In fact, they invariably thanked the man, no matter what he did to them, or made them do for him. I was forced to watch many such scenes with girls and women of every age. I saw a balding, middle-aged man with beer belly having sex with a girl who could not have been more than 10 years old. She had pubic hair. Her performed cunnilingus on her, before grabbing the girl by her long blonde braided hair and forcing her head down onto his penis. She seemed to be performing fellatio on him willingly, but he was not satisfied with her efforts. He gripped her head firmly with both hands and began ramming his penis deeper into her mouth. Eventually, he forced his penis down the child's throat. Her arms flailed about, as he was effectively choking her with his penis. And yet amazingly, the girl did not resist in any way that would prevent him for asphyxiating her with his erection. The child began turning blue before the man finally ejaculated down her throat. He looked enormously pleased. She coughed and spat up and struggled to breathe for a while. Then, once she had caught her breath, the 10-year-old blonde beauty actually thanked the man for forcing his penis down her throat and ejaculating there. She said she was grateful he did that! I saw a man in his mid-thirties take two girls who looked to be about 9-years-old. The man performed cunnilingus on one girl's hairless vagina while he made the other perform fellatio on him. After a while, he made the girls switch places. When he was satisfied with their oral sex, he had vaginal intercourse with the first girl. While he was doing that, he made the other girl present her small, budding breasts to him. He sucked and bit the girl's breasts rather roughly, she shown by her cries of pain. Yet she never resisted or told him to stop or even to go easier on her. The man then had the girls switch places. Only this time, the man spent less time sucking the girl's breasts and more time licking her anus. When he had the girl's switch places again, instead of having vaginal intercourse with the 9-year-old he sodomized her, while licking the anus of the other girl. The girl being sodomized cried out in pain. The look of distress on her face was awful! And yet, she did not resist in any way or beg him to stop. When the man had enough fun sodomizing the poor young girl, he withdrew he penis from her anal passage, and examined her butt to inspect the damage and dirtiness he had caused. Her anus was gaping, red, and sore-looking. There was no evidence of bleeding. However, there were small gobs and streaks of feces between the girl's butt cheeks and surrounding her anus. Satisfied with his work, the man ordered to girl to suck his penis clean. Which she did without hesitation or disgust, despite the large amount of her own feces clinging to it. Apparently, she swallowed it all while fellating him. While she did this, the man alternated between watching her suck him and licking the other girl's anus. When he was satisfied with the first girl's efforts, he did exactly the same thing to the other girl. Only this time, after he was done sodomizing her and she was fellating him, the man ejaculated in her mouth while sucking the nipples of the other girl. After he was done, both girls thanked him profusely. They told him that being sodomized by him and then sucking his penis clean had been one of the high points of their lives. The girl who swallowed his semen told him that this act had been the most memorable and wonderful time of her life. Both girls begged him to use them again sometime. An older man with gray hair and wrinkled features had three young girls of different ages. The girls looked to be around 7, 8, and 9 years of age. He made the 9-year-old suck his penis while he licked the anus of the 8-year-old in preparation for sodomizing her. At the same time, he ordered the 7-year-old to lick his anus and probe inside it with her tongue. The tiny child obeyed his commands without hesitation! I saw a beautiful blonde woman in her early twenties who had massive breasts. A teenaged boy sucked and bit her breasts so hard that he left teeth marks and bruises all over them. Then he had intercourse with her. She thanked him. I saw a man in his thirties having sex with three women at once. The women ranged in age from their late teens to their early thirties. He commanded some of them to have sex with one another while he used their available orifices for his own pleasure. One after the other, he left none of their holes unused. When he was finished with them, they thanked him. I saw a man who was old enough to be a grandfather having sex with a girl who was no more than 14. He penetrated her everywhere possible: mouth, vagina, and anus. After that last one, he went back to her mouth without cleaning himself first. The child was made to eat her own feces while performing oral sex on the old man. He ejaculated in her mouth and kept his penis there. Then, a few minutes later, he called for a camera close-up. He withdrew his penis from her mouth and positioned it about two inches away. He made her open her mouth. Then he said "Drink my piss" before he began urinating into the child's mouth. She gulped down the man's urine without any hesitation. After he had drained himself into the pretty young blonde's mouth, she thanked him. Thanked him! I was compelled to watch more than a dozen such videos. I think Alice, Bob, Chuck, and Donna wanted me to see how disgusting these really were. The men and their actions were totally depraved. But knowing men, I did not find that surprising in the least. What surprised and unnerved me was how compliant and even happy the girls apparently were, even when they had to endure extreme pain during their sexual abuse. These strange reactions were most obvious during the brutal sessions of anal sex. The girls often cried and screamed while being sodomized. After the anal intercourse was over, the camera would inevitably focus in closely on the sodomized girl to show how red, sore, and distended her anus had become. Then the camera would turn to her face. The girl had a look of satisfaction and bliss on her tear-stained face. She expressed gratitude to the man who had just brutalized her anally. She thanked him for using her for his own satisfaction! By the time the videos were finally over, I felt sick to my stomach. Sarabeth, my supervisor, asked if I was OK. Did I need a few minutes to collect myself? I told her that I was OK. I would soldier on. Alice handed me a large loose-leaf notebook. It contained more than one hundred color photos of every depraved sex scene from the videos between those beautiful blonde girls and women with white men of all ages. The pages of photos were separated into topical sections with labeled tags that came from the sections of the Blonde Cunt Magazine website itself. I read the tag names as I leafed through the book:
James Trowbridge leaned over to have a look. He whispered "Holy sh-" and then quickly grabbed the book from me. He said to Alice "I haven't seen these before." Alice replied "We only compiled them recently." Trowbridge said "I'll need to check these…uhh…against our other open case files. Let me know if you get any more." Then he stood up. Alice, Bob, Chuck, and Donna looked at one another quizzically. Chuck shrugged his shoulders and said "Of course, Sir." Trowbridge hurried out of the room with the notebook of illegal porn images under his arm. He seemed to have some urgent business elsewhere. Alice, Bob, Chuck, and Donna then resumed their round-robin talking at me. They asked what I had found most disturbing about the videos. I told them it was the reactions of the women and girls. All the girls seemed happy and grateful for the abuse they had just suffered. Alice, Bob, Chuck, and Donna nodded their heads simultaneously like four bobble-head dolls. I guess they had heard that I was on the autism spectrum and wanted to make sure I understood the emotional aspect of what I had just seen. Even someone with a diagnosis of autism far more extreme than mine could tell that the events in those videos and the girls' reactions to them did not fit. They just didn't make sense. Alice said "We don't know who is behind Blonde Cunt Magazine. We haven't been able to identify any of the men. We believe that whoever is making these monstrosities has a lot of computer power and technical skill in computer graphics." Bob said "You could see that the faces and voices of the men had been digitally altered so we could not identify them. Their bodies may have been altered as well. Doing that for an entire 45 or 90 minute video takes an enormous amount of computing power. Only a few professional movie production service companies have that kind of power and those kinds of technical skills." Chuck said "We've checked out every company that fits the bill. No dice. We even looked into people who used to work at those companies. They have the knowledge, but not the computing power to do this sort of thing." Donna said "We went so far as to request help from the Chinese on this. They have the computing power and people with the right skills, but they run a pretty tight ship. Communist China monitors its people very, very closely. They didn't find evidence of any connection to Blonde Cunt Magazine. Besides, all the guys and girls in Blonde Cunt are white. It wouldn't make sense for the Chinese Mafia or Triad gangs to produce porn they couldn't sell in their domestic market." Alice said "We thought we had a break in the case when we were finally able to begin identifying some of the women and girls in the videos. But that only made it weirder. When we talked to them, they denied ever having taken part in any of it. At first we thought we had the wrong girl the first time that happened. But we were able to positively identify 16 women and girls based on distinguishing marks, skin blemishes, orthodontic teeth braces, and so forth. But none of these girls admitted to any memory of involvement. A few of them agreed to medical testing, so we could look for damage to their bodies from the sexual abuse. The doctors found a few small lesions and contusions, but nothing definitive. It was all too small; the sort of things that could happen during normal course of life. None of it was on the scale and magnitude that would fit with the extreme sexual abuse you saw on those videos." Bob said "So that's a mystery inside a mystery. These girls fit the visual profile perfectly for being the ones in the videos. In any other case, that would be a positive identification beyond the shadow of a doubt. But in this case, the girls denied involvement and their bodies bore no trace of abuse." Chuck said "We even had psychiatric evaluations done on some of these girls. We suspected they might be repressing memories of what had happened to them. Nothing turned up." Donna said "Even that nothing has a mystery within it. Several of the girls were put under hypnotic regression. We took a risk that we might be implanting false memories if we went too far with this. But we allowed some leading questions to be asked. Questions about the sexual practices you saw on those videos. We found the little girl who looked like the one you saw drink that man's urine. When we asked her a question about drinking a man's pee, she smiled. The kid smiled! She said she'd never done it, but she wished she could." Alice said "Which brings us full circle. We've got almost no leads to work with. But we have some tantalizing hints—more than we are allowed to share with you right now—that we have the right girls. We just don't know how they were put into those abusive porn videos." Bob said "And we don't know why they can't remember any of it." Chuck said "Yet they actually like the idea of the dirty stuff in those videos when we ask them about it under hypnosis." Donna said "And only when we ask them about it under hypnosis. Their conscious minds draw a blank whenever we bring it up." That's when my boss Sarabeth St. James spoke up. "This is where you come in, Lena. You fit the profile of the kind of woman these men like. You're young, blonde, busty, and beautiful. We want to use you as a honey trap to lure them in." I swallowed hard. Then I covered my mouth and coughed. I cleared my throat. "But, I'm not a field agent. I never wanted to work in the field. I'm a forensic accountant. I barely passed my basic field training. I don't think I could handle being around those…creeps." My supervisor put her hand on my forearm. "You won't have to spend more than half an hour with them, Lena" said Sarabeth. "If we can just get one or two of them in a room with you, we'll catch them on hidden cameras, then a dozen armed agents will swoop in from right next door. The creeps will never get to lay a hand on you. You won't become like any of the girls in those videos." That's what the FBI told me. The videos Alice, Bob, Chuck, and Donna showed me really made we want to help those girls. So I agreed. But I was wrong to do so. Everything the FBI had promised about protecting me was a lie. None of it worked the way they said it would. The creeps did lay their hands on me. And they made me do everything I saw in those horrid videos and…more. Much, much more. This is the story of how I became a Dark Web porn video star in Blonde Cunt Magazine.
Chapter 2 Everything happened rather too quickly after I agreed to the mission. I think the FBI honcho in charge was afraid I might back out if given too much time to reconsider my decision. He was surely right about that! Alice, Bob, Chuck, and Donna were put in charge of me. They seemed to want to tell me only enough to ensure that I would go along with their plan. They did not tell me so much that, if I were held by the baddies and drugged and tortured, I could reveal how much the FBI already knew about them. So I was mostly moving in the dark. When I asked how the FBI would let the bad guys know about me so I could serve as bait in their trap, the Special Agent in charge told me not to ask. When I tried speaking to Alice, Bob, Chuck, and Donna each alone in an attempt to get some more information, each of them stonewalled me. Then the fateful day arrived. I was placed in a hotel room in a major American city that I won't name. I wore a conservative business outfit of blue pants suit, white blouse, and sensible shoes. Nothing at all sexy. I had a gun in a holster at the small of my back. Before going to my room, the FBI had the courtesy to take me on a quick tour of the adjacent rooms where a bunch of heavily armed agents waited. I was also shown some unmarked vans and cars on the street nearby. This all made me feel much more secure. It turned out to be a false sense of security. I sat in my hotel room with the tv blaring and a magazine in my lap. I was too nervous to pay much attention to either. Then came a knock at the door. I went to the door and peered through the peephole. A teenaged boy stood outside holding a pizza box. He was Caucasian, about 5 feet 6 inches tall, of moderate build, with straight dark brown hair that covered his ears. He had a few acne spots. He had brown eyes and wore glasses. I opened the door. "I didn't order a pizza" I said. The boy smiled. A bright light flashed from the rim of his eyeglasses. That's the last thing I remember… …until I found myself lying on a bed in a small windowless room with white walls. The room was illuminated by five, round, translucent lamps about the size of dinner plates. They looked like glowing flying saucers. One was attached to each of the four the walls and the ceiling, giving the room a uniform glow. I stood up and reached for my gun. Of course, it was gone. I walked to the door. It was locked. Looking around the room more carefully, I saw a bench seat built into one wall. I looked for an access panel or some such. Nothing. Checking the bed, I saw that it too was attached to the wall. No moving parts. I did a visual inspection of the walls and ceiling. I noticed several small circles with glass inserts. Cameras, no doubt. I looked at the wall lamps more closely. Tiny camera lenses were embedded around the circumference of each lamp. "Hello!" I yelled. "I'm awake!" I heard the door being unlocked. A teenaged boy walked in. He was the same height as the pizza delivery boy, but his hair was red, his eyes were gray, and his complexion was more fair and without acne. He wore a long-sleeve, white, button-down shirt that was open at the collar and a pair of black pants. "Hello, Lena Muller. I'm Ryan" the boy said, smiling and proffering his hand to shake mine. I did not respond in kind. The boy laughed. "OK, be that way, bitch. You think you’re such hot shit just because you're with the FBI. You guys are fucking clueless!" He laughed again. "How did I get here? Who are you?" I demanded to know. Ryan put a hand on my left arm. I drew back. Then the boy smacked me across the face while still holding my arm. "You can do this the right way or the hard way, whore" Ryan said between clenched teeth. "What you can't do is resist. We'll tell you whatever we want you to know. We always get what we want. You're our property now. Do as you're told and you'll be treated well. Resist or give us a hard time and you'll live to regret it." He squeezed my arm hard. "Understand me, bitch?" he yelled in my face. "Y-yes, I understand" I said. "Good" Ryan said while giving me a wicked smile. "You're one hot piece of meat. I've got big plans for you." He fondled my breasts while licking his lips. I shuddered and closed my eyes. I felt like I had entered the gates of hell. Speaking of hell, where the hell was the FBI? How could they have let me down like this?! Ryan guided me out of the room, keeping a firm grip on my arm the whole time. The corridor outside the room was nondescript. The walls and lighting were no different from what I saw inside my room. I noticed the same hidden camera lenses as well. As we walked down the hall from my room, I glanced discretely around me. I counted twenty-four doors including the one of my room. At the end of the hall was a large double-door made of heavy metal. Ryan pressed his palm against a scanner panel in the wall. The pair of doors swung open. The hallway beyond was much larger. I counted another twenty-four doors along the walls of this room. The floor, walls, and ceiling were padded in soft material. I surmised it was sound-absorbing. My surmise was supported a few seconds later as we walked past a door. Muffled sounds of crying and yelling leaked out. I heard a man's wicked laughter. I heard a child's plaintive cries. Chills ran down my spine. As we passed another door, I heard a woman's voice. She was laughing. I couldn't be sure what I heard next, but it sounded like her saying "Thank you." Shivers ran up my spine. When we reached the end of the wide, padded hallway, there was another pair of metal doors. Ryan pressed his hand against a reader panel and the doors opened. We entered a busy office. It looked like any corporate office of a successful, top-tier business. I'd been inside quite a few offices of Fortune 100 companies from my days at Ernst & Young, so I know what I'm talking about. This office décor was top-notch. Expensive teak wood furniture throughout. A half-dozen desks occupied an open area. Behind and to the side of each desk was an office door. Sitting at each desk was an attractive blonde woman. Apparently, they were private secretaries. The women all dressed like actresses from the tv series "Mad Men" which was set in the 1960s. They wore white lacey push-up bras which peaked out through the cleavage gap in their tight white blouses. They wore even tighter pink skirts and stylish red high-heels. I stared at these women. They paid me little notice. One woman got up from her desk chair and walked across the room. Her stiletto high heels made her already shapely buttocks even more prominent. Her shoes made a clicketty-clacketty sound on the marble floor. The room was illuminated by many skylights and the same round lamps I had already seen in my room. Each desk also had a lamp. I didn't see any windows. At the far end of the room was a pair of teak wood doors. Off to one side of the double-doors an executive secretary sat at her desk. Ryan walked right up to her, still guiding me by the arm, and said "How are they hanging, Trudi? This is our catch of the day. She's from the FBI. Is the Big Man available?" "My breasts are hanging just fine, Mr. Ryan" Trudi said with a friendly smile. "Mr. M is expecting you and the new girl." Trudi was had long wavy blonde hair. She was busty and beautiful, just like all the rest of the women in the office. Unlike the others though, she actually paid some attention to me. Trudi looked me up and down. Then she fixed her gaze on my eyes. "Don't worry, honey. It's not as bad as you think. In fact, you'll regret not having gotten here sooner" she said with a bright smile that displayed her perfect white teeth. Trudi reached under her desk and pressed a button. A soft buzzing sound followed, and the pair of wooden doors swung open in our direction. Ryan guided me in. The office was huge and magnificent. It was richly furnished in dark woods, with brass accents and discrete lighting from lamps, sconces, and a few well-placed skylights. From the deep pile carpet to the art works on the walls, it was one of the most impressive offices I have ever seen. And I've seen quite a few. When I was doing corporate accounting at Ernst & Young I saw the spreadsheets listing how much some of these office furnishings cost. This office must have cost at least $2.75 million in US dollars. Probably even more. A middle-aged man sat behind a desk at the far end of the room. He was facing away from us, looking at three computer monitors. Behind him was the only window I had yet seen. It extended across the entire wall. The view looked down on rolling hills of grass and trees, with a small river wending its way below. Based on the proportions of everything outside, I estimated that we were on the tenth floor of the building. This might be good news for my possible escape. I stood a better chance of getting away and finding help if we were in an urban area rather than in a remote one. The man behind the desk continued staring at the computer monitors. Ryan cleared his throat. "Ahem" he said. "Sir? Your newest cunt is here." The man swung around in his chair. He was a dark-haired Caucasian. His looks were neither handsome nor ugly. He was almost nondescript. And yet he exuded a subtle yet powerful sense of presence that commanded attention. He was the very embodiment of authority. The man looked me up and down. He smiled. Standing up, he walked out from behind his large desk. The man wore a white shirt and black pants similar to Ryan's, except this man's attire had a better cut and was made of finer looking fabric. He offered me his hand. I grasped it. His hand was warm, his grip firm, but not hard or vice-like. He smiled at me. Then he bent over and kissed my hand. I blushed. I had been unprepared for such graciousness. "Hello, Lena" he said. "You can call me Mr. M. Welcome to the rest of your life." It sounds crazy, but I was struck with the firm conviction that he knew my future and had just revealed to me that he knew it. I felt chills running up and down my spine. I swooned slightly. Ryan stood behind me, grasping both my arms at the biceps. He steadied me. Mr. M addressed Ryan. "Bring her to the couch near the window" he said. Ryan led me to a soft leather couch and helped me sit. Mr. M sat beside me. Addressing Ryan again, he said "That's all, Ryan. You may go." Ryan bowed slightly while saying "Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir." Mr. M casually reached one arm around my shoulder. Instinctively, I cuddled with him and rested my head on his shoulder. I have no idea why I did that, but I did. It just seemed…natural. "There, there" he said while placing a hand on my chest. He felt me up, fondling and squeezing my breasts through the fabric of my blouse and bra. "Everything is going to be alright, Lena. You'll see." Again, this sounds crazy, but I believed him implicitly. His touch calmed me. Resting my head on his shoulder made me feel safe. Feeling his hand roam all over my breasts made me feel good. I had never felt this relaxed, appreciated, and comforted before in my life. Mr. M spoke as he continued casually squeezing and toying with my breasts. "I'm sure you're quite confused by all the contradictory things you've seen in those videos and felt since you got here, Lena. That's quite normal. Every new girl goes through what you're going through. It's perfectly natural. You've never experienced these exquisite contradictions before. Soon enough you'll get used to them. You may even come to understand them. You will certainly come to enjoy them. You must. After all, you have little choice in the matter, Lena. You are my property now. I own you. And you are never getting away. Welcome to Blonde Cunt Magazine!" I sat up straight and looked him in the eye. I'm sure I must have looked like a silly frightened child, because he laughed at me. "Don't worry, Lena. No harm will come to you. No harm came to any of the girls your FBI agent friends examined. Right?" I was speechless. How did he know so much about our FBI investigation, while we knew virtually nothing about him? Mr. M gave me a wink and a smile. "You want to kiss me, don't you Lena?" he asked. I hadn't thought about kissing him until the very moment he said it. Then like a bolt from the blue, kissing this man became the most important thing in my life. "Yes, Sir" I said. "May I kiss you, Mr. M?" He smiled. Then softly he said "Show me your breasts first." I nodded to acknowledge his command. Then I removed my blouse and bra. It actually felt good to be bare-breasted in front of him. Mr. M gave a soft whistle of approval as he gazed at my breasts. "How large are they Lena?" "My bust measurement is 42-inches and my bra is an E-cup, Sir" I answered. "And what are your total body measurements?" he asked. "My bust, waist, and hip measurements are 42-24-38 inches, Sir" I replied. "Well, well, well" Mr. M said as he began running his hands over, under, and around my bare breasts. "I like the size, shape, and color of your tits, Miss Lena. Your pink nipples and their surrounding areolae are large enough to meet my preferences." He continued to explore my breasts with his hands, and then he leaned down and began sucking on them. I felt an electric thrill run through my whole body. Almost involuntarily I began to stroke his hair. I moaned softly with pleasure. After a couple of minutes, Mr. M let go of my breasts. He sat up straight and looked me directly in the eye. I was transfixed. His eyes were all I could see; from the rest of my field of vision, the world simply vanished. I felt as if he were entering my mind, plunging deeper and deeper into my memory, my personality, and the very depth of my being. I felt him rummaging around in there, taking stock of what he found, making records, tagging certain finds, and then re-arranging the contents of…ME! That must have been when my internal split began. I can see it now, looking back on it. That's when it must have begun, even though I didn't realize it at the time. My whole being became diffuse. Every thought, every perception, every feeling, every intended action that originated inside me had become somewhat fuzzy. And then, something else happened. It was as though each of my perceptions, feelings, and intentions was immediately followed by its echo. Every thought was instantly repeated in a faint, echoed version. So was every perception, feeling, and gesture. I felt as if I were splitting in two. There were two Lena's living in one body. As it turned out, that is exactly what happened. Mr. M split me into two people. But which one was the real me?
Chapter 3 I was in a highly suggestible state. I've never been hypnotized before. Since I am mildly autistic, I am a very poor subject for hypnosis. But whatever Mr. M was doing to me, it felt like what hypnotism does to people, only more so. My subjective sense of myself had become fuzzy and indefinite. Every thought was instantly repeated in a faint, echoed version. So was every perception, feeling, and gesture. I felt like I had become two people—two Lena's living in one body. Mr. M spoke in a kind, reassuring voice "Now Lena, you are a very beautiful young woman. A nearly perfect, buxom blonde I would say." He reached down to touch my bare breasts. Grasping a nipple in each hand, he said "I'm particularly fond of these perfect pink nipples on your 42-inch E-cup tits." Then he twisted my nipples. It hurt, mildly, but it also felt good at the same time. Those two feelings—pain and pleasure—were experienced differently by the two Lena's living inside me. Old Lena felt the pain and disliked it. New Lena felt the pain and loved it. Which Lena was I? I had no idea. Mr. M smiled broadly. "Very good, Lena. You are learning about the two sides of yourself." I wondered how he knew that? Was he simply a good guesser? Or was he reading my mind? I wondered. Then he removed all doubts. "I am both a good guesser and a mind-reader, Lena. And much more. So much more. As you'll soon find out" Mr. M said and then laughed mirthfully. "Let's get the rest of your clothes off, shall we? I need to inspect your cunt and ass." "Yes, Sir" I heard myself saying. Which Lena had said that? Either? Both? That was a question I simply could not answer at the time. Nor could I resist any command from Mr. M. I stood up from his office couch and began to remove the rest of my business attire. I wiggled out of my blue pants suit, while Mr. M watched. Next went my sensible shoes. And finally my white panties. Mr. M held up one finger and made a vertical circling motion while he said "Turn around slowly." I did as he commanded. Even if I had wanted to do otherwise, I'm not sure I could. In any case, I felt no desire to disobey. "Very nice curves, Lena. I'm looking forward to exploring your ass more closely. But first I must inspect your cunt. Lay down on the couch and spread your legs for me" he said. I did as ordered. Mr. M brought his face close to my upper thighs. He kissed one then the other as he moved up toward my crotch. I could not believe how incredibly horny this made me feel! Mr. M sniffed at my pubic hair and then my vagina. He pried apart my vaginal lips. Then he began to lick me. I moaned. The first second his tongue touched my twat was better than any other oral sex I'd ever had in my life! And then he began tonguing my clitoris. What amazing skill this man had! In short order I was rubbing his head and begging him to make me cum. "Oh Sir!" I cried out. "Oh Mr. M!" I said more loudly. "OH MASTER!" I screamed. He had licked and sucked my clit to the most explosive orgasm of my life! "Mmm, Lena, you do taste good. Very few blonde cunts taste as good as yours. My compliments to the chef! Best of all" he said "you finally called me by my proper name. I am your Master. You are my slave. Isn't that right?" I floated on clouds of bliss. In a dream I said "Yes, Master. I am your slave. I am your property. You own me, body and soul." But which Lena was saying that? The New Lena? The Old Lena? It felt like both said it. Both versions of me had surrendered themselves to this man. I had surrendered myself to him. I couldn't help myself. I wanted to belong to this man more than I wanted to take my next breath. He was my…everything! Mr. M gazed at me with the same transfixing look that had enthralled me before. "That's right, bitch. You are my cunt now. Your tits belong to me. And your ass. And all of you altogether. You are my property, body and soul." Mr. M walked over to his desk and pressed a button on a communications device at his desk. "Trudi" he said. "She's ready. Come in now." "Yes, Sir" came Trudi's reply. A few seconds later, she was inside the room and standing next to the couch where I lay, naked and spread-eagled. Trudi smiled with one corner of her mouth turned up slightly. She arched her eyebrows as she said "See? Didn't I tell you, Lena? It's not so bad, is it? Being Master's slave? That's what the 'M' in 'Mr. M' stands for: Master." I nodded my head lazily as I returned Trudi's smile. "Are you his slave, too?" I said dreamily. Trudi laughed, tossing her head back so her long wavy blonde hair moved as if in a soft breeze. I admired her perfect white teeth "Of course, silly!" she said as bent down and squeezed my arm in a friendly manner. "Every woman and girl here belongs to Master. We are his harem. Sometimes he…shares us. But it's all for a good cause. You'll see." "Yes, you will see, Lena" said Mr. M as he sat down on the couch next to me. "Would you like to sit up?" I blinked for a moment. I was confused. I couldn't decide whether I wanted to sit up or not. "I—I don't know what I want" I confessed. Mr. M. smiled broadly. "That's good. Now, Lena, ask me what you should do?" "What should I do, Master?" I asked. "You should sit up!" he said with a small laugh. Trudi looked on, watching Master and me. She seemed proud for some reason. "I'll tell you why Trudi feels proud, Lena" said Mr. M. I still wasn't used to this man reading my mind! He continued. "Trudi is proud because she is my personal executive secretary and she was deeply involved in the planning for your abduction. Trudi expressed every confidence that you would become a good slave in my harem. I'll admit, I had my doubts. Your mild case of autism could have been a deal-breaker. But Trudi kept begging and begging me to take you and at least try you out. She wanted me to give you a chance. And I must say that you've been doing quite well, so far. But you haven't completed your testing period yet, Lena." I began to worry. What did Trudi mean about Master sharing me? What other tests would I have to pass in order to remain a sex slave in Master's harem? Again, Mr. M answered my unspoken questions, having read my mind. "You'll learn about each test immediately before taking it. I won't tell you in advance what the tests are, or how many there are." Then he looked at Trudi. "I think Lena would feel more comfortable if you were as naked as she is. Strip, bitch." Trudi flashed her pearly white smile again. "Thank you, Master. I thought you'd never ask!" She quickly removed her tight white blouse, white lacey push-up bra, hip-hugging pink skirt, white panties, and red high-heels. Her body was even curvier than mine, I thought. "Trudi" Mr. M said, "tell our new bitch what your measurements are." Trudi gave a superior-looking smirk and tossed her head slightly from side to side. Placing her hands under her large, hefty-looking breasts, she said "These are 48-inch H-cups. I don't call them my breasts because" she said while gazing adoringly at our Master "they belong to my Owner, not to me." Lowering her hands to rest the breasts on her chest, Trudi moved as if to put her hands on her waist but stopped short. At the last second, she pointed the index finger of each hand at her waist and said "24 inches." Then her fingers moved down to point at her hips "38 inches" she said. "And I'm 5 feet 5 inches tall. I weigh 132 pounds." I was jealous. Trudi and I had the same hip and waist measurements. But my 42-inch E-cup tits were totally outclassed by her 48-inch H-cups, I thought. Then all of a sudden, I stopped and wondered 'Why am I comparing myself to this woman?' Mr. M answered my unspoken question. "You are comparing yourself to Trudi, Lena, because every cunt in my harem wants to give her Owner the best she possibly can. A woman who is deficient in the tit department obviously has less to give." I hung my head in shame. I had never been ashamed of my body before. I started to cry. Mr. M cupped my chin in his hand and lifted my head so I could look at him through my teary eyes. "There, there Lena" he said. "You can make it up to me. Do you know how?" "How, Master?" I asked tearfully. "First, you are going to pose for nude photos for me. Then you and I are going to have sex. Trudi will join in. And it will all be filmed and shown on the Internet. After you and I have finished that first sexual encounter, you will have sex with other men whenever I tell you to. I will choose who to share you with. You have no say in the matter. That's what you can do for me, Lena. You can be one of my blonde cunt Internet prostitutes" Mr. M said with a smile. "Yes! Yes! I'll do anything you want me to, Master" I said in desperation. "Just don't send me away!" I stopped again. What was I saying? Who was saying she wanted to be a prostitute? Surely not Old Lena. It must be New Lena. But I had a hard time telling them apart. I seemed to hear the same answer coming from both Lena's inside me. "That's a good girl, Lena" Mr. M said. "You're coming along nicely. You and Trudi will join me in one of the movie studio rooms you walked by earlier. You will pose for some nude photos, first. Then we three will have sex on camera. What do you say, bitch?" I quickly blurted out "Thank you, Master! I want to serve you every why I possibly can! I'll do anything you tell me. Anything!" I said quickly and possibly too loudly, because Trudi smirked at me like I was some silly newbie. Well, I guess I was. I had only had a couple of boyfriends in my life and only had sex a few times. I was basically fearful of sex. Now here I was about to become an Internet porn prostitute, and I was begging for it! "Very good, bitch" said Mr. M. "Trudi, since you're nice and naked, I'd like you to parade Lena through the office so everyone can see you both in your altogether. Go to Studio A. There is a photographer waiting to take the still shots of Lena. I'll join you shortly." "Yes, Master" said Trudi. She wrapped her left arm around my right arm. "Are you ready to show your cunt in public, dearie?" she asked. I giggled, like a little girl. "I guess so. I'm so new to this. Show me what Master wants from me. I'll do anything." Trudi squeezed my arm. "That's the right attitude, hun!" she said as if Trudi was my best girlfriend. We walked out of Mr. M's office. As soon as we exited, I saw that all the secretaries were watching Trudi and me parade stark naked through the office. They stood and applauded. Many offered compliments on my beauty, and congratulations for joining their sisterhood of sexual slavery. I giggled again, giddy over the feeling of suddenly belonging. Their appreciation and love comforted me. Trudi walked me all the way to Studio A.
Chapter 4 Stark naked, Trudi and I paraded through the main office and into the next corridor where the movie stage rooms were. My internal split between the Old Lena and the New Lena was quiescent. With Trudi guiding me, I didn't mind showing my bare breasts, pussy, and bottom. I was still a tad jealous that Trudi's tits were bigger than mine. But without Mr. M here to read my mind, Trudi was none the wiser at the moment. After Trudi and I passed through the metal doors and into the corridor, Trudi looked around quickly, then pressed her lips close to my ear and whispered. "Don't worry, Lena. I'll watch out for you. It may seem horrible at first, but you get used to it. I asked Master if you could sleep with me tonight. He said OK. I'll tell you more then." We entered Studio A, where Master had told us a photographer would be waiting. The room had special lights on the walls and ceiling. Sound booms extended from the walls and ceiling. There was a large bed, some chairs of different types, and a table. I had expected to see a leering old man with a camera. I didn't expect what I saw: a teenaged boy. He had freckles, light brown hair, and brown eyes. He was of medium height and weight. And he wore nothing but underpants and sneakers. Trudi introduced us. "Max, this is Lena. She's Mr. M's newest property. Lena, this is Max. He's 17-years-old. Max is one of Master's photographers in training. Master has Max and other young men on our team learning photography, so they can become professional photographers when they are older. Master wants them to work with fashion models, actresses, and other beautiful young women, and then funnel information back to Master so he can pick and choose among these girls for his harem and our website. Master is particularly interested in having his photographers work with teenagers and underage girls who do modeling, especially of clothing for sales catalogues. Master has also trained some of his own women slaves to become professional photographers. They've been doing a great job of identifying beautiful young girls, especially underage ones, for Master to abduct and use. Many of the young cunts on our website were found for Master by his female photographers. He is working to get his photographers into even more parts of world of professional photography, including the high school yearbook business. That should give access to tens of thousands of the most beautiful blonde teenaged girls in the country." I was stunned. But it made perfect sense. Master was nothing if not ambitious. Why should he not have access to every beautiful young blonde girl on the planet he might want? Trudi continued, "Max likes big-breasted blonde women. He finds girls his own age uninteresting. Mostly, their tits are too small." Trudi walked up to Max. They were the same height. "Would you like to play with my tits before we begin the photo shoot, Max?" "Would I ever!" said Max. He put down his camera and practically attacked Trudi's chest. The teenager mauled and sucked and bit her tits without the slightest concern for how Trudi might feel about it. Trudi winced with pain as Max sunk his teeth into her soft breast flesh. I was amazed that his teeth didn't break her skin. He did leave a welter of black and blue bruises on Trudi's massive, 48-inch H-cup breasts. Then Max grabbed a small squeeze bottle of clear liquid and told Trudi to kneel down. Trudi must have known what was coming next. He handed her the squeeze bottle and she squirted lubricant over her breasts while Max pulled his penis out. Trudi pushed her breasts together. Max shoved his penis between her breasts and began thrusting it back and forth. Trudi helped him by pushing her breasts up and down against his cock. I watched Max tit-fucking Trudi. Max grabbed her breasts with both hands. Trudi gazed up at him with a smile of complete enjoyment. Max looked down at her and smiled back. Then he closed his eyes as he continued using her bruised breasts to masturbate. While Max's eyes were closed, Trudi stole a glance in my direction. She gave me a knowing wink and a conspiratorial smile. I had to cover my mouth to keep from giggling. After a few minutes, Max ejaculated all over Trudi's big breasts. She thanked him profusely for allowing her to serve him this way. Then she asked if she might eat his cum. With a look of delight and pride, Max agreed. Trudi used her fingers to wipe up gobs of Max's semen, then put her fingers in her mouth, sucked them, and ate his cum. After she was done, Max handed her a couple of towels and a moist wet pad. Trudi thanked him and then proceeded to wipe down her breasts which still bore the black and blue bruising inflicted by Max's teeth. Her breasts looked like they'd been used for boxing and wrestling practice. She walked calmly to a wall panel that had an attachment that looked similar to a telephone handset, except that it was clear on one side. Trudi picked up the handset and flipped a switch. The clear side of the device glowed blue. She held it against her breasts and moved it slowly all over the tops and sides of them. Then she lifted a breast with one hand and pressed the device against the underside of her breast. Trudi did this with both breasts for a couple of minutes. Then she returned the device to its cradle on the wall panel. I was amazed to see that both of Trudi's breasts looked good as new. There was not a mark on them. The skin of her breasts practically glowed with health. "That's incredible!" I exclaimed. "What is that device?" Trudi said "It's a lifesaver, that's what it is. Master has technology you would not believe. This machine is called a Dermer. It repairs skin abrasions. Bigger versions of it can repair larger and deeper wounds. Specialized smaller versions of it can be…inserted into places where you might sustain internal damage." Suddenly I understood what Alice, Bob, Chuck, and Donna had said about the girls not sustaining any long-lasting damage despite suffering extreme sexual abuse. I began to shiver with fear. Noticing my distress, Trudi placed her hands on my upper arms and hugged me. She whispered in my ear "Don't worry, honey. You'll get through this OK. It seems scary now. But it's really fun once you get into it. Nothing here will harm you. It only hurts for a little while. Master's medical devices can heal anything. You'll see." Then she kissed me on the lips and let me go. Trudi turned to the boy. "Max, darling, how would you like our new cunt to pose?" Max smiled. "First, we'll do the standard standing at attention, followed by the usual standing poses. I'll get her from all sides. Then we'll do the kneeling, lying down, and the rest of the usual stuff. I'll get plenty of the close-ups of her face, legs, tits, cunt, and ass. After that, we'll just have some fun." I posed every way that Max told me. Trudi was an old hand at this, so she helped whenever I didn't understand an instruction. The photo shoot took almost an hour. With every photo Max shot, a large monitor mounted high on the wall showed the image. I'd never seen my vagina up that close before. I never imagined I'd be counting the skin pores around my nipples. Or the wrinkles of my anus. Trudi stayed close to me the whole time. She stood outside of camera range, but otherwise was by my side. I hoped that Max wouldn't do to me what he had done to her. I only wanted Master to do that to me. Finally, Max was done. He pressed a button on the wall. Three middle-aged, topless women entered the room. All were blonde, of course, and every single one was a beauty. They wore nothing but pink short-shorts and sneakers. Their breasts were smaller than Trudi's and mine, but they were by no means flat-chested. The women began opening wall closets and extracting video equipment. Trudi introduced me to the women. "Lena, these are Master's top camerawomen" she said, as she pointed to each blonde woman in turn. "They do both video and still photography. This is Freya, and this is Helga, and here's Morgana. They're all just like you and me: blonde sex slaves of the Master. Now that they're in their mid-forties he only uses them in mommy porn and special interest prostitution, in addition to their video filming. There is actually quite a lot of interest in mommy porn, by the way. But it's nowhere near as popular as underage girl porn." Trudi kissed Freya, Helga, and Morgana on the lips, then she made me do the same. They were all very friendly, welcoming me into Master's harem. They seemed like nice people. Trudi then let them get on with their preparations while she explained what would be happening to me next. "Lena, honey, when the Master comes in, there's really no telling exactly what he'd do first. You can count on getting fucked in every hole. You just can't tell in advance which one he'll do first." Then Trudi leaned close to me and whispered "Just remember that that Dermer can repair all sorts of damage. The other medical tech can repair absolutely everything. So if you're feeling damaged—if something feels like it's tearing—don't worry. It's only temporary." She began to lean back, then stopped. Looking thoughtful, she put one finger to her lips for a moment. Putting her finger down, Trudi leaned in again and whispered "I almost forgot. This is really important. You can't get sick from anything. I mean, no bacteria or viruses or anything like that. None can harm you. So piss and shit are safe. Don't worry if you swallow any." I pulled back in horror. "What?!" I exclaimed. Just then Master entered the room, wearing the same clothing as before but without shoes. All of the other women and Max bowed to him. I stood there like a statue, just staring at him. Master looked me in the eye. I knew he was reading my mind. Master gave me a wicked smile. "Are you ready to get dirty, Lena?" he asked. I felt weak. And that's the last thing I remember for a while. I fainted. The next thing I remember is Trudi looking down at my face. "You gave us a fright there, little girl" she said to me with a smile. "If Master hadn't caught you, you might have fallen and hit your head." Then Master came into view. He was still wearing his white shirt and dark pants. Inside me, I felt an emotional tug-of-war between Old Lena and New Lena. 'Get out of here! This man will destroy me!' panicked Old Lena thought. 'Come take me, Master! Use me until you use me up. Destroy me!' delightfully sexy New Lena thought. But which one was I? I watched them both. I felt them both. I was them both. Or was I? "Well, Miss Lena, you're a bit of a delicate flower, aren't you?" Master said. I was lying on the floor with my head on a pillow. He lay down next to me. Morgana brought him a pillow. I wrinkled my brow and bit my lip in fear. Master said "I am going to go easy on you at first, Lena. But I want you to understand that no part of your body is off-limits to me. I will use every part in any way I please. I will use your tits in any way I please. And your mouth and your cunt and your ass. And no matter what I do, this is what I want to hear from you: 'Thank you, Master.' Got that?" I swallowed hard. My voice came out softly with a tremulous quaver. "Y-yes, Master." I swallowed hard again. "Th-thank you, M-Master." Master smiled as he grabbed one of my breasts, taking a handful of the soft flesh into the palm of his hand and closing his fingers like pincers around it. I was surprised at how good this felt. I was equally surprised that Old Lena liked it as much as New Lena did. "What do you say, bitch?" he asked. I smiled weakly "Thank you, Master." Still holding one of my breasts in his hand, he patted my head with his free hand while saying "Good bitch." Tentatively, I reached out a hand and touched his face. Master turned his head and kissed my hand. I blushed again. From out of nowhere, the thought came crashing down over Old Lena, New Lena, and me. 'I love this man!' I thought. 'I must give him everything he asks for. And more! I must go beyond anything he asks! I must give him…all of me.' Master smiled at me. Then I remembered that he can read my thoughts! I felt embarrassed. "Don't feel embarrassed, sweet Lena" he said. "Your thoughts are good thoughts. Your feelings are true feelings. From now on, you will only be happy when you are serving me. Serving your Owner, your Master, is the be-all and end-all of Lena Muller's life from now on. Do you understand that, my sweet bitch?" My heart swelled with love and gratitude. Then my words came tumbling out. The words seemed as if they had been hidden inside me in some secret place for a long, long time, and could now, finally and at long last, be uttered aloud. "Yes, Master! I understand" I said while nodding my head furiously. "Thank you for owning me! My life belongs to you now and forever more" I said with almost religious fervor. "I will do anything you tell me. Please command me, Master. I crave being ordered around by you" I said like an eager soldier. "I want to be used by you. Exploited by you" I said like a volunteer for a dangerous mission. "Please treat me like the lowest whore on earth, Master. Use me until you use me up" I said like a masochistic slut. Master smiled good-naturedly. "Very good, Lena. I shall use you deep and hard. But I will not use you up. Or destroy you. I will use you beyond anything you can imagine right now. Fear not, though: you shall emerge whole and unscathed from the worst abuse I, or anyone else, might deal out. You are precious to me. I would never want you to come to harm. I want you to serve me from now until…forever." With that, he sat up. Master turned and offered me his hand. I took it shakily and he helped me to sit up. While I remained seated, he stood up and walked barefoot to the bed. Master sat on the edge of the bed, wearing only his white shirt and black pants. Master said "Crawl to me, Lena. Crawl to me and beg me. Beg me to allow you to serve me." Feeling sexy and somehow wicked, I smiled and crawled naked to my Master on all fours, purring like a kitten. "Yes, Master" I said and resumed purring. When I arrived before him, I bent down and kissed his feet. "I worship you, Master. I only live to serve you. Please allow me to serve you, Master. Please! I'll do anything—ANYTHING!—if you'll just allow me to serve you." As I spoke those words, I felt Old Lena and New Lena saying them with me. But who is me? I still didn't know. But I knew one thing: I loved Master. I truly wanted to serve him with everything I've got, body and soul, forever. And both Old Lena and New Lena were with me on that. Master unzipped his pants. He wrestled his erect penis out from its confinement. He took my head in both his hands, then said "Lena, I am going to use your mouth like a cunt. I will not be gentle. And you must cooperate with me. Help me rape your mouth. And your throat." The camerawomen swarmed around us for close-ups. Somehow, I hadn't even noticed that they had been filming Master and me this whole time. I was both terrified and excited at once. I did not have very much experience with fellatio. I had done it a few times, but not very well, I'm afraid. I stared at Master's beautiful penis. Then I opened my mouth wide. I watched my Master's dick approach my lips. Suddenly it was in my mouth. It was big and warm and it tasted good. I licked and sucked on it. I pumped my head up and down. Then Master tightened his grip on my head. I felt his fingers entangled in my hair. His penis moved to the back of my mouth. It bumped back there and I gagged. Master laughed. "Now your mouth rape really begins, bitch" he said. "Welcome to your new life." And with that, he forced his dick into my throat and down, down, down. I began to gag and choke, feeling panic rising as his erection filled my throat. But I knew better than to offer any resistance. My body belongs to him. I tamped down my fear and submitted to having my throat raped. It felt good to New Lena. Old Lena silently screamed. My life of sexual slavery in Master's harem had well and truly begun.
Chapter 5 Master's force-fucking of my face and throat were only the beginning of my first porn video. He called it mouth rape. New Lena called in Nirvana. Old Lena called it Hell. I am more and more feeling like Old Lena is a silly prude. New Lena sees things as they really are. Over the next hour, Master took me in every hole…and I loved it! I had never experienced so much good sex before. It wasn't merely the quantity of sex—although there was certainly an abundance of that. It was the quality. My body had become exquisitely sensitive. It was as if every sensation were magnified far beyond anything I'd ever known before. And there was something else. I felt Master inside me. Not simply his penis inside my body. His mind was inside my mind. His feelings were inside my emotional being. We were united at a deeper level than I had ever dare to imagine. Truly, he possessed me, body and soul. Master had sex with me every which way. He fucked my pussy while I sat in his lap facing him. Then he did it while I sat in his lap facing away from him. He did it again while I knelt on all fours. And he did it while lying on top of me. He did it on his back with me riding him. Then I got on my knees again and he entered my asshole for the first time. I had never had anal sex before. I never even let a guy touch me back there before! But Master took me anally without any warning or asking, only a few dabs of lubricant. It hurt like hell! As he kept pounding away at my ass, I felt like my anus and rectum were being split open, ripped to shreds, and set on fire. Trudi had warned me about this. She told me the Dermer device could repair any tissue damage. And I would certainly need it by the time Master was done fucking my ass. When Master finished sodomizing me, my anus was red and sore and gaping. I saw it on the wall-mounted video monitor. There was no bleeding, thank God. My asshole was throbbing with pain. Master had butt-fucked me without mercy. The whole time that Master had been fucking me in every hole, Trudi was presenting her 48-inch H-cup tits to him. As Master moved around, Trudi followed, always keeping her breasts within easy reach for him. He often sucked them. Sometimes he squeezed them. From my position, I could not always see what was going on. But I figured based on what I did see, and what I managed to glimpse on the video monitor, that Trudi had been faithfully following Master with her tits at all times. After Master pulled out of my ass, he commanded me "Suck me clean, bitch!" He made me perform fellatio on his penis while it was still soiled from my asshole. Master called it a dirty ass-to-mouth blowjob. I had to put his stinking dick in my mouth while it was smeared with my own feces. This was the most disgusting thing I have ever done or could ever imagine doing! But I did it. I had to. He was my Master and I was his slave. He Owned me body and soul. A slave must never disobey her Master. I sucked Master's stinking, shit-befouled dick until it was sparkling clean and glistening with the sheen of my saliva. All of this was captured on video, of course. From multiple angles. Including extreme close-ups. Every moment of my sexual degradation was recorded. Every humiliation. Every time I gagged and choked when Master raped my throat. Every time I cried out in pain. Every tear I shed when Master raped my ass. Every disgusted look on my face when Master made me suck his shit-smeared dick clean after my ass-rape and Old Lena felt totally degraded. And every blissful look on my face when New Lena had the upper hand and delighted in her own sexual exploitation and degradation at her Master's hands. Master commanded Trudi to lay down in front of me and spread her legs. I saw her pussy up close. I could smell it. Then Master said "I know you have never had sex with a woman, Lena. Now you will. Lick Trudi's pussy. Eat her out." I could not disobey. But I worried about spreading dangerous germs into Trudi's vagina from the fecal contamination in my mouth. Then I remembered what Trudi had told me about this being safe. I didn't understand how fecal bacteria and other germs could be safe here when they could be deadly on Earth. But then I didn't understand how Master was able to read my mind, alter my personality, or guide my behavior either. So why start worrying now? For the first time in my life I put my tongue into another woman's vagina. It tasted kind of odd. Maybe it was the mixture of her juices and the other things that I'd been eating lately. In any case, I lapped at Trudi's pussy and licked her clitoris. While I did this, Master shoved his dick back up my ass resumed sodomizing me. My cunt-lapping of Trudi went on as Master continued to fuck my ass. I only stopped eating her pussy when Master ordered me suck him clean again. As I continued to suck his dick, Master commanded Trudi to lick my cunt. That felt nice, but not nearly as good as when Master did it. After several minutes, Master announced that his climax was approaching. "I'm going to cum in your mouth, bitch! Get ready to eat your Owner's cum, Lena!" he said forcefully. And then it happened. Master came in my mouth. My Owner finally ejaculated into my mouth and it was…amazing! Old Lena was greatly relieved that her abuse and degradation was over. New Lena was ecstatic that her Owner was finally gracing her with his orgasm and letting her taste and swallow his heavenly cum. And I was feeling that New Lena had it right. Old Lena was simply relieved to be swallowing Master's cum instead of her own shit. New Lena felt the ecstasy of receiving a benediction from the man she loved, worshipped, and adored. That's how I felt, too. Receiving Master's cum for the first time — feeling it spurt into my mouth, tasting it, and swallowing it — was the turning point of my entire life. I felt that it was the greatest thing that had ever happened to me. Words cannot fully express how wonderful it felt. I thought before he came in my mouth that I was already Master's slave for life. Now I knew I was more than that. I was a slave who needed to serve her Master well enough to make him ejaculate. This truly had become the highest goal possible for me. This was the now meaning of my life. I lived to make Master cum in my mouth and swallow it! My life had taken a new direction. From that moment onward, my every waking moment was spent thinking about ways to serve my Master. I tried to think of new ways to please him. I would frequently beg him to use me in any way that he wished, to command me, and to assign me ways to serve him in any capacity whatsoever. Master owned me, body and soul, and I was eternally grateful for that. To this day I am still not sure if Master used his power to make me feel this way, or if he merely uncovered something that had lay deep within me for my entire life, but never had a chance to emerge until the moment Master ejaculated in my mouth. I know it's something he wanted, and that he wanted me to want, too. But how can anyone know where their desires come from? Are you sure your own desires originated with you, rather than coming to you from somewhere else…or someone else? My first sex session with Master had been incredibly satisfying. I'm glad Trudi was there, too. I was elated, overjoyed, sated, and blissful. The three of us left the studio room and went into a bathroom down the hall. Trudi showed me how to use the Dermer to treat my painful anus and rectum. She adjusted the diameter of the Dermer and gently inserted it into my ass. It seemed to vibrate at a very high frequency, while feeling both warm and cool at the same time. In brief bursts of a less than a second, it felt like it was tingling with little electric shocks. It was not unpleasant. In fact, it felt mostly pretty good. The whole treatment lasted about three minutes. When I was over, Trudi told me to stand in front of a large mirror and bend over. Then she held up a hand mirror so I could see behind me. The former redness and distension of my anus had completely disappeared. I no longer felt any pain or discomfort from back there. Trudi handed me another Dermer and told me to put it into my mouth. When I did so, I felt the Dermer extend a thin tendril down my throat. All of the soreness and abrasion from Master repeatedly mouth-raping me was repaired in minutes. "That's amazing!" I said. "Where did this device come from? I've never seen or heard of anything like this Dermer technology." Trudi looked at Master. He shook his head. Trudi turned back to me and frowned. "I can't tell you right now. Master will tell you when he thinks you're ready to know that." I shrugged. There was nothing I could do to get that information at the moment. But I hoped Trudi would tell me more tonight when we slept together. She had practically promised! Master, Trudi, and I all showered together. Trudi washed Master while he fondled her. I followed her lead and he did the same with me. It was much more fun than I had expected it to be. I had never enjoyed showering with boys when I was dating. This felt very different. I felt deeply connected to Master and, to a lesser extent, Trudi. It seemed that by washing his body, Trudi and I were serving ourselves somehow. Master was like the head and trunk of a body, and Trudi and I were his limbs. He was washing himself using us like his arms and hands. You might think this would be disturbing. No, quite the opposite. It felt wonderful! Being part of him, an extension of him, felt like I was doing what I was born to do. In some sense, it was related to the ecstasy I felt when Master ejaculated in my mouth. Washing him was not ecstatic like that. But it had a deeply loving feeling of intimate connection. It was simply…wonderful! I know how crazy all this sounds. To be kidnapped, raped, sexually abused, exploited—how could that feel loving and ecstatic? To tell you the whole, God's honest truth, I can't explain it to you. If you haven't experienced it yourself, you simply have no way of knowing. It doesn't make logical or emotional sense, does it? No, it doesn't. But isn't that exactly what I had seen in those videos the FBI showed me? All those women and little girls suffered extreme sexual abuse and exploitation, and then afterwards they thanked the men who had done it to them. I could not understand it at the time. And I still couldn't explain it. But now I know it's real. It happened to me just like it had happened to them. After the shower, Master, Trudi, and I dressed in white bathrobes made of soft, thick, comfortable fabric. We put on well-made leather slippers. Master took us back to his office. Lunch was served at a small table located on a balcony overlooking the rolling, grassy hills, stands of leafy trees, and small river. Previously I had thought we must in a city or on the edge of one. Yet from the balcony on this side of the building, I did not see any other buildings, roads, or other structures in the landscape. Perhaps they were visible from the other side of the building. We ate and chatted pleasantly. To my surprise and delight, Master was utterly charming. He made many witty jokes. He inquired about my life and interests. After every answer I gave, he asked astute questions about why I did what I did and how I felt about it. He asked me about my triumphs and my failures, my good relationships and bad ones. His inquiry was gentle but persistent. When I disclosed particularly sensitive, painful, or embarrassing events in my life, Master mirrored my feelings exactly. He smiled when I smiled. He wept when I wept. By the end of it all, I felt cleansed, relieved of my emotional baggage. Master held my hand tenderly and we exchanged small kisses. I was smitten. Master was both brilliant and very natural at the same time. I knew that Master owned me body and soul already. Now his charm and brilliance were confirming why I was right to fall in love with him. I was glad Trudi didn't seem to mind that Master was focusing almost all of his attention on me. Only later, when I tried to apologize to her for monopolizing our Master's attention, did she laugh and explain that every girl feels like Master gives her more attention than he gives to the others. It's part of his charm, his mystique, and his power. When Master focuses his attention on any girl, she feels as if she is the center of his universe and he ws ignoring everyone else. But in reality, he's not doing anything of the sort. As I was soon to discover, his power is such that Master can have multiple, simultaneous, intimate relationships with vast numbers of women. I suppose that comes in real handy when you've got a vast harem of women under your control! At the conclusion of our lunch, Master said "Lena, you have already made remarkable progress in your life of sexual slavery. This morning I used you exclusively for my pleasure. Now it's afternoon. It's high time you bring some pleasure other men; men whom I will select for you. It's time for me to prostitute you, Lena." I was not surprised to hear this. I knew it would happen eventually. I remembered all those videos the FBI had showed me. "Of course, Master" I said. "Your slightest wish is my command." Inside my mind, I knew this was New Lena speaking. Old Lena, who would have objected, had been pushed far down deep inside my mind. She was so far down that she didn't account for much, it seemed. Old Lena had become insignificant. Old Lena was a whisper, a ghost, who could no longer affect my actions in any way. I was now the New Lena, a devoted slave of my Master. He was my Owner and I was his property. If he wanted to prostitute me, then I felt honored to obey him. In any case, I had no choice. Master said "The first man I want you to have sex with is actually someone you've already met. Young Ryan retrieved you from your cell earlier today. Even before that, Ryan was disguised as the pizza delivery boy who came to your hotel room for the kidnapping." Master rubbed the palms of his hands together and then knit his fingers except for his two index fingers, which stood up like a church steeple. "Ryan is going to be a very important man someday, Lena. He comes from a rich and powerful family. In a few years he will enter Harvard College as a legacy—the child of a Harvard graduate. After graduation, he'll go on to Harvard Law School. After that, he will begin working in his family's company, which is worth several billion dollars. And from now until then and beyond, Ryan will be completely dependent on me to provide him with the best sex he can ever imagine. No ordinary prostitutes are as good as the ones I have on offer. No modern, feminist wife would dream of doing for him what my girls do. Ryan will never find girls who are as young, and as beautiful, and as compliant as the ones I possess. Also, no one else can guarantee Ryan the freedom from sexually transmitted diseases, or detection by the authorities, that I can. Ryan will depend on me to give him what he cannot get anywhere else. And he will do whatever I tell him to do, if he wants to continue having access to the goods that only I can offer." So that was Master's game. Or at least part of it. He was gaining influence over powerful and rich men by offering them access to his harem of extremely beautiful, and extremely young, blonde girls and women. This made perfect sense. It was a very old ploy. But I doubt that anyone had ever done it on the scale that Master was doing it. Maybe no one could have before the age of the internet and cryptocurrencies like Bitcoin. "Master" I began "what do you intend to do with this power you have over your clients? Do you want wealth? Political influence? Both? Or something else?" Before I could say another word, Master fixed me with his laser-like gaze. My mind blanked for a moment and my inquiry quelled. Master saw the effect he had on me and smiled. "Lena, you are not yet ready to know that" he said. "That knowledge is for another time. At this moment, all you need to know is that I am your Master and you are my slave. I am going to whore you out to men of my choosing and sell suitably anonymized videos and photos of it on the internet. You will be fucking and sucking and more on camera. Your sexual exploitation and degradation have barely begun. I will make you into an internet porn goddess for all the world to see. Or at least that portion of the world that can access and pay for Blonde Cunt Magazine" Master said with a sly smile.
Chapter 6 Master ordered Trudi to accompany me to another studio room where I would be filmed having sex with Ryan. As Trudi and I walked down the hall still wearing our white bathrobes, Trudi wrapped one arm around mine and put her other hand on top of it. "Your tongue felt lovely in my pussy this morning, darling" she said and then kissed me on the cheek. "Don't worry. I'm bi-sexual, not lesbian. Master is always Number One in my life by a million, billion miles" she said. "But a little girl-on-girl fun is ok with Master and it's just for fun! I promise to do for you what you did for me, Lena. Maybe not until tonight, though. Master wants you to do the next scene alone with this young man." I said "I never licked a woman before today. It was…odd. I guess it's OK, if you like it. If you want to do it to me, and if Master allows it, then that's certainly fine." Trudi tilted her head to one side and gave me a funny look. "You are an odd one, Lena Muller. But I like you. You're pretty and smart. I begged Master to take you because I think you can really help him. Blonde Cunt Magazine isn't just some Internet porn and prostitution operation, you know. It's not about making a lot of money or pulling political strings. Master is going to change the world." "What do you mean?" I asked. Suddenly, inside me, I felt Old Lena stir. She was rising from the depths like a fish swimming up out of the darkness. Old Lena shot upwards to the bright surface of awareness where a juicy morsel of information floated in the sun-dappled ripples. Apparently, the tantalizing possibility of learning something the FBI would want to know had awakened and unleashed Old Lena. Trudi looked around to make sure no one could hear us. We were alone standing in the corridor outside the studio stage rooms. She leaned close and whispered "The Master works with very powerful people. Some are the rich and politically powerful men you may have heard of, yes. But Master knows who really controls the world. And it's not them." "Which people control the world? Who are you talking about?" I whispered eagerly, my heart racing from the curiosity of Old Lena. Trudi bit her lip and shook her head side to side. "Not here. Not now. Later" she said. "When we're alone in my room tonight." "OK" I said. Old Lena was disappointed, but extremely hopeful. We might yet discover the Master's secrets! Trudi and I entered studio D. This one had a stage set that looked like a classroom. The female film crew was already there and waiting. Trudi and a costume girl dressed me to look like a school teacher. I wore a tight white blouse, short grey jacket, a grey pleated skirt hemmed just above the knee, and black pumps with short heels. My hair was tied back in a bun. One of the film crew was also the director. She made me stand behind the teacher's desk and write something on the whiteboard. She said I was there to provide after-school help to one of my students. That's when Ryan walked in. Redheaded Ryan wore a private school uniform of white shirt, stripped tie, blue blazer, dark pants and shoes. His blazer had a gold-stitched logo on the pocket. Ryan's grey eyes looked me over and he leered appreciatively. Ryan sat down at a desk in the front row. The teenager put one leg on the desk and gave me a wicked smile. "Miss Smith" he said "can you help me with my problem?" I turned and smiled at the boy. "Of course, Ryan. That's what I'm here for. Tell me your problem." "Well" Ryan said as he stood up from the desk and walked toward me "my problem is with your class." I became nervous. "Wh-what's wrong with my class?" I asked in a trembling voice. Ryan stood in front of me and put both hands over my breasts. "The problem is that you always keep these covered in class. I don't want you to do that, Miss Smith. From now on, you're gonna teach bare-chested. Understand?" Relieved at the simplicity of his request, I replied "Of course, Ryan. That's easy enough. I'll just take off my jacket and blouse and remove my bra. You'll never see me cover my breasts in your class again, Ryan. I will always teach bare-breasted for you." In less than a minute, I had uncovered my 42-inche E-cup breasts. Ryan's eyes seemed wide as saucers. "Oh. My. God" the teenager said. "Your tits are huge. I love 'em!" The boy then started fondling, squeezing, and sucking on my breasts. I stood there like a statue, letting Ryan have his way with my tits. He put his head between them and pressed my breasts against him from either side. Then he pulled back and sucked hard on one breast while twisting and yanking on the other. His exploitation of my breasts went on and on and on. I never said a word or resisted in any way. I just let the boy have his fun. At long last, Ryan said "Your tits are great, Miss Smith. Now let me see the rest of you." "Of course, Ryan" I said as I began to undress completely. "I'm here to help you. I'll do anything I can to make your school experience as positive as possible." I had no idea what I was saying. I mean, the words just flowed out of me as if I were reading from a script, and then my actions followed the words. But I had never seen any script. I just said whatever came into my head, and I did what I had said. I don't know where those words came from. They simply popped up and I spoke them and acted them out. In the back of my mind, I held the suspicion that Master had somehow programmed me ahead of time. As I was getting undressed, so was Ryan. As soon as we were both naked, he embraced me, kissed me, and felt me up, from breasts to pussy to bottom. Then, with more gentleness than I had expected, he pushed me to my knees. "Suck me, Miss Smith" the teenager said. Obediently, I took his semi-erect penis into my mouth and began to suck and lick it. To my own surprise, my technique was already smoother than it had been earlier today, and infinitely better than it had been before I was brought to Blonde Cunt Magazine. Just as my words had flowed as if coming from some invisible script, my fellatio performance flowed as smoothly as if I were being directed by some inner whore spirit that had totally taken command. Ryan moaned and sighed with pleasure as my head pumped up and down on his dick while my tongue massaged it in all the right places. Soon Ryan's hips began thrusting with greater and greater speed. I matched Ryan's thrust speed with the speed of my own head-pumping, sucking, and licking. I'm not sure if the young man had planned to cum in my mouth so soon, but I knew he was about to. I tasted his pre-cum. And I felt the jittering vibration of his body that told me with complete certainty that the teenager was about to ejaculate and fill my mouth with his cum. "Uhh! Uhh! Uhh!" Ryan cried out as he gripped my hair and shot his hot sperm into my eager mouth. I gulped it all down in three short swallows. Ryan stopped thrusting, but I continued to lick his penis gently, trying to give him the maximum pleasure for his exertions. "Oh, wow! That was incredible!" he said between grasps for air. "I've never had a blowjob like that before in my life! Where did you learn to do that?" Slowly, I eased my head away from Ryan, allowing his slick, softening penis to slip out of my mouth. I gave it a final kiss. "It's a skill I learned online" I said, still not knowing why. "I picked it up from watching the great porn in Blonde Cunt Magazine." Now I knew my words had DEFINITELY been pre-programmed inside me. But how? "Cut!" said the director. "That's a wrap for today. Excellent job, Lena. That was one of the most professional blowjobs I've ever seen. You looked so gorgeous with Ryan's penis in your mouth. I'm sure a million guys will cum just watching you." She paused for a moment and gazed at Ryan who was smiling from ear to ear. "We'll shoot again another time when Mr. Ryan is ready to cum again. Master wants Ryan to thoroughly enjoy you, Lena. That means more fucking when he can…uhh…control himself a little longer." It was all over much sooner than I had expected. Not that I was complaining. Master had whored me out to Ryan for Master's own purposes. I didn't give a fig about Ryan. I only lived to serve Master. His commands governed my life. Trudi walked up to me and kissed me on the lips. "You did so well, Lena! I'm sure Master will be pleased. Ryan is spent for the day. Master said that you and I could take the rest of the afternoon off after this video shoot. Let's go to my place and relax." "That sounds delightful!" I said. Then I returned Trudi's kiss on the lips. I still was not feeling any lesbian attraction. But I had come to love Trudi as a friend. And if she wanted to do more sex play with me, I'd do it as her friend. I put on my white bathrobe and leather slippers, then Trudi and I walked toward the studio door. As we did so, all of the camerawomen congratulated me on my performance. It felt good to be appreciated! I hugged and kissed each one of them, and the director too. Before exiting the room, I turned around to see what had become of Ryan. He was lying naked on his side atop of the teacher's desk. The redheaded teenager waved at me and smiled the nicest grin I'd ever seen from him. I blew him a kiss and then waltzed out of the door arm-in-arm with Trudi. After we left the studio stage room and entered the hallway, Trudi steered me back towards the main office. I heard muffled sounds coming from behind the closed doors of the other studio rooms. Ahead of us, the last in the line of studio doors opened. A naked fat man emerged holding the hand a naked little girl with very fair skin, blue eyes, and long, tousled platinum blonde hair. The girl looked like a little angel from a Christmas pageant, she was so pretty. I recognized the man instantly from one of the videos the FBI had shown me. His fat body was fairly distinctive even though his face had been pixelated on the video. The lovely little girl seemed so small next to his great height and girth. The pair walked towards the end of the hall leading to the cells where I had been first kept, while we walked in the opposite direction, so the two pairs of us were moving towards one another. I was intensely curious to see the man and girl up close as we would pass in the hall. The man and the girl were smiling at one another and laughing. He held her tiny hand gently in his great big mitt. The girl kept kissing his hand while gazing up at him worshipfully and smiling as she spoke to him. As they came closer, I thought I saw evidence that they were coming from a party. The face of the little blonde angel had a few brown smears and blotches around her mouth that looked like chocolate ice cream or something similar. When they passed closest to us, the man looked me up and down. He seemed to be sizing me up like a piece of meat. The fat man gave me a smiling nod and a wink. The girl paid no attention to Trudi and me whatsoever: she was completely focused on the big man. After they had walked past us, I turned my head to get a glimpse of them behind. That's when I saw it. From in between the butt cheeks of the little blonde girl, streaks of brown radiated outwards. It wasn't chocolate ice cream.
Chapter 7 Trudi walked me to the end of the hall nearest the office and placed her hand over the scanner panel next to the heavy metal doors. The scanner read her digital fingerprint and opened the doors. We entered the office, then took a sharp right turn into a small alcove. To my surprise, this was a small lobby with a pair of elevators. Trudi pressed the Down button and one elevator door opened immediately. We stepped inside. I was still disturbed by what I had just seen in the hall. The big fat man and the little platinum blonde angel made an incongruous and grotesque pair. At least, that's how they seemed to me. I'm certain that the millions of men who view Blonde Cunt Magazine content online must feel differently. We rode the elevator down in silence. I couldn't tell if Trudi was aware of my upset. But the fact that she said nothing made me suspect that she knew. The elevator stopped, and the doors opened, revealing a carpeted hallway of the sort you might see in an up-scale hotel. Trudi walked me down the hall past several doors and then stopped in front of one. "This is my place" she said as she pressed her hand against a reader panel and the door opened. Trudi's apartment was huge and richly furnished. I could tell that the place was large at first glance, even before seeing all the other rooms she would later show me. There was a large living room, with a dinning room behind it. Wide windows overlooked the same scenery of rolling grassy hills and stands of trees that I had seen from Master's office, but from a lower perspective a few floors down in the building. The living room had several couches, chairs, small tables, and other furniture. Various famous paintings (I hope they were copies) and small versions of classical sculptures adorned the place. Almost as soon as we entered, a middle-aged but beautiful blonde woman emerged from another room. Trudi said "Lena, this is Mildred. She's another Blonde Cunt girl like you and me. She is the governess for my daughters." "Daughters?!" I said with surprise. "I had no idea you had children." Trudi smiled with obvious pride. "Master gave them to me to raise as my own. You could say that they were adopted. I am their adoptive mother. Master is their adoptive father." Just then a little blonde girl who appeared to be about 6-years-old rushed into the room yelling "Mommy! Mommy!" I was shocked to see it was the same girl I had seen in the hallway with the big fat man! Only she was fully-dressed in a red and white stripped pinafore dress. Her face was clean, and her hair was neatly combed. How did she get cleaned up so quickly and get down here before we did? I wondered. The little girl practically leapt into Trudi's arms. They hugged and kissed sweetly. Trudi said "Deborah, this is Miss Lena. She's going to be staying with us tonight. Where are your sisters?" Mildred answered "The girls are downstairs. They stayed late at the Cunt Scouts meeting. I let them play with their friends a while longer. Deborah wanted to come home sooner to work on her art." Trudi acknowledged this information and then told Deborah to greet me properly. The little girl held out her hand and I shook it. Then she came closer and hugged me. When the child looked up at me with her crystal blue eyes and puckered her lips, I realized she was expecting a kiss. I bent down and kissed her. I tried to hide my surprise at seeing this little girl here. Trudi said "Deborah, would you like to show Miss Lena your art work?" The little girl brightened and quickly replied in the affirmative. She took my hand and led me down a hallway while Trudi followed. The hallway was lined with four doors. It was surprisingly large and long for an apartment. Deborah opened one of the doors and we walked in. The room looked almost like any young girl's room, with dolls, toys, clothing draped here and there (but not too messy). Where it differed was in the size of the bed. It was huge! The bed was nearly as wide as the room itself; it was easily as large as three king-sized beds put together. As I stood marveling at the size of the child's bed, I heard a commotion of little girl voices behind me. Suddenly two more little blonde girls entered the room—and they were identical to Deborah! Trudi said "Ahh, here are Dina and Donna. Now all of my triplets are here!" Trudi introduced me to her other daughters and they greeted me in the same formal manner as had Deborah, with a handshake, a hug, and a kiss. I was a bit confused and flustered. No one seemed to mind or be concerned. Deborah took my hand and brought me to her art table. There were several drawings, some done in crayon, some in colored pencil. All of them depicted the most erotic or even pornographic scenes! They depicted little girls having sex with an adult man. The children sucked his penis, or had it thrust into their vaginas or rectums. In several of the drawings, the man used his hands to penetrate two girls at once while his penis entered the third child. As Deborah showed me more and more of her obscenely erotic drawings, I began to breath more rapidly. My pussy grew damp. Not knowing what to say, I tried to change the subject. "You have a very big bed here, Deborah. I'm sure you and your sisters have plenty of room to roll around in it." "Yes" said Deborah matter-of-factly as she picked up a crayon to add the finishing touches to one of her pornographic pictures. "We need the space for when Daddy comes to bed with us." Trudi laughed. "You always have to make room for Daddy!" she said. Then she took my hand and led me on a tour of the rest of the apartment. Her bedroom was even larger than the girls' room. There were three additional bedrooms, every one of which had its own bathroom. Going back to the living room, we took a turn through a breakfast nook and into the kitchen. There Trudi introduced me to Odelia, another middle-aged blonde beauty, who served as cook for Trudi and her family when she wasn't doing mommy porn for Blonde Cunt Magazine. With Odelia in the kitchen was a much younger blonde woman. Pamela was all of 16, shapely and beautiful. She assisted Odelia in the kitchen as well as helping out Mildred in taking care of the girls. Pamela was a Blonde Cunt porn actress who was coming into her ripest years, Trudi explained. Master wanted her to learn all about the domestic arts of cooking and childrearing. He also wanted Pamela to be a role model for Trudi's daughters, who were much younger. Dinner was almost ready. Trudi, her girls, and I sat down at the long dinning room table near the window. The views were magnificent as the sun was setting on the other side of the building and casting its waning light against the hills and trees outside. Mildred, Odelia, and Pamela served us and then sat down to eat with us. It was like one big family. With eight of us around the table, we chatted in twos and threes, until some topic of interest drew everyone into the conversation. The only topic that invariably did that was Master. Master owned all of us as his sex slaves and used all of us in very similar ways. Since I was the new girl on the block, I mostly listened as Mildred, Odelia, Pamela, Trudi, and her girls each shared stories of their time with our beloved Master. Some of the stories were touching. Some were amusing. Every single one was sexy, each in its own way. After dinner, Odelia and Pamela cleared the table. Mildred took the girls off for their evening bath and then put them to bed. Trudi went to a cabinet and withdrew a bottle of wine. She opened it and poured two glasses full, then handed me one. I'm not much of a drinker. I have a low tolerance for alcohol. But Trudi insisted that we toast our new friendship and my good fortune at becoming one of Master's sex slaves. I had to drink to that! We sat close to one another on a small couch near the great window. The last rays of the setting sun turned the world orange and gold. Trudi told me the story of her life. How she had been before Master had arranged her kidnapping. How he had used her much as he used me. And how she had fallen in love with him, exactly as I had, and as every girl does. We marveled at his inexplicable power. Which brought me to the main question of many; the one that was burning hot inside me; the question that had awakened Old Lena from her deep slumber. "Trudi" I began somewhat hesitantly, "you said you'd tell me tonight. Tell me about the men who were more influential than even the rich and powerful ones that Master's Blonde Cunt Magazine caters to. For the life of me, I can't figure out who you are talking about." Trudi drained her wine glass, licked her lips, then put the glass down on an end table. For the first time since I'd met her, she looked scared. This made Old Lena inside me intensely focused and attentive. Trudi looked up at the ceiling. Then she dropped her head and rubbed her temples. "Lena" she began "I'm not really sure who they are. I mean, I actually know a few of them by name. And I know their job titles, or where they live. But I don't know how they are connected to one another. They seem to be connected, because their actions appear to be coordinated. But I don't really know who they work for. I think they must work for someone." Then Trudi began recounting the names and positions of a dozen or so men around the world. I'd never heard of a single one of them. Their jobs were all middling level, or else they were retired and living modestly. Not a single one was rich. Not a single one was the head of a major corporation or a government. If they had anything in common at all, it was two things: First, they were placed inside organizations, or had pre-retirement connections within organizations, that gave them access to inside information of a sensitive nature. Second, they lusted after the kind of women and young girls that were available through Blonde Cunt Magazine. Trudi had delivered on her earlier promise to tell me more. Unfortunately, the information was less enlightening than I had hoped it would be. Still, Old Lena was happy to have gotten some names. This was a major breakthrough for the inner FBI agent within me. Trudi gave me a sidewise glance. It was almost as if she knew about Old Lena's satisfaction. Then Trudi said something odd. "Lena" she said, "when I asked Master about these men, he recited a poem to me. Do you want to hear it?" "Yes, of course!" I said. Trudi began with an introduction. "This poem was translated from the Chinese. It comes from an ancient book by the 'Old Man' Lao Tzu, the founder of Taoism. The book is titled 'Tao Teh Ching' which translates as something like 'The Book of the Way and Its Power.' Here is the poem: The best leaders are those the people hardly know exist. The next best is a leader who is loved and praised. Next comes the one who is feared. The worst one is the leader that is despised. If you don’t trust the people, they will become untrustworthy. The best leaders value their words, and use them sparingly. When he has accomplished his task, the people say, "Amazing: we did it, all by ourselves!" After Trudi had finished reciting the ancient Chinses poem, she gazed at me steadily. I couldn't tell what she expected of me. So I asked "What does it mean? What's the poem about? Why did the Master tell you about it?" Trudi shook her head. "I don't know. Not for sure, anyway. Master said he would tell me more someday. But that day has yet to arrive." "Let me ask you something else, Trudi. Where did Master get his fantastic technology? He seems to be light years ahead. And how did he get the power to read minds and…control us?" I asked. Trudi nodded her head as if she'd heard these questions before. "That, I don't know" she said. "Everybody is curious about that in the beginning. But Master seems to use his power to make us lose that curiosity after a while. Besides, even if we knew, it wouldn't change the fact that he truly owns us, body and soul, and we WANT to be his property; to be fully his in every possible way." Trudi paused and gazed thoughtfully out the window into the far distance. "Master once told me that if anyone ever correctly guessed the origin of his powers, he would acknowledge it. So far, no one has. And since he seems to have quelled out interest in the question, maybe no one ever will." I felt Old Lena pressing inside me. I had to speak her question. "What ideas have people proposed so far?" Trudi shrugged. "Let's not talk about that now." I sighed. If she didn't want to talk about the origin of Master's powers, it didn't feel right to press her on it. I set aside Old Lena's question for later. I decided to switch tracks to something else. "You told me earlier that Master wants to change the world. How? For what purpose?" I asked. Trudi smiled at my question. She seemed pleased to address it. Trudi took my hands in both of her. "Lena, darling" she began, her eyes suddenly twinkling happily "Master doesn't need money or power. He only needs to influence how other people with money and power use them. He's got everything he needs here in his harem. I mean, just look around this place. Master lives in the lap of luxury and shares it with his harem of sex slaves. He could be sitting pretty here while the world goes to hell. But he doesn't want to. He wants to help the world get better." "How so?" I asked, truly puzzled how a man who produces illegal pornography and prostitutes women and underage girls could make the world a better place. Trudi's smile became a little tighter. "I don't know all of Master's plans. And the ones I do know, I am sworn not to tell. I can say this, though: Master is engineering a new creation. He is planning to remake the world." I was stunned. Inside me, Old Lena was falling all over herself trying to make sense of this information and to get more details. I asked Trudi a few more questions but got no more information. Trudi had told me all that she could or would reveal. Old Lena had to be satisfied that Trudi had delivered on her promise to disclose more information to the best of her ability. Now it was my turn to ask another question. The question that had been bothering me since I saw the little blonde girl who looked like one of Trudi's triplets holding hands with that horrible fat man upstairs. "Trudi" I began "Do you let your little girls do…Blonde Cunt Magazine stuff?" Trudi tossed her head back and laughed. "Lena, sometimes you make me laugh! I'm sorry honey, but…how naïve can you be? Of course, my girls do 'Blonde Cunt Magazine' stuff! You're probably wondering about the little girl we saw with the fat man. She's not one of my daughters. My daughters are identical twins; so-called monozygotic twins. Triplets, in this case. Identical twins are clones. The girl you saw upstairs was another of the clones that Master made from a little girl he kidnapped long ago. She has since grown up into a beautiful woman. He has been cloning new copies of her ever since." My eyebrows shot up. Of course! It made perfect sense. Master had cloned one of his favorite little girls. As the girl grew up, Master could make endless new young clones to his heart's content. Generation after generation, Master would always have an endless supply of cloned copies of the same beautiful, young, angelic, platinum blonde girl. He could have as many of these little sex angels as he wanted, for his pleasure, and for the pleasure of other men. I imagined heavenly choirs of these little girl angels singing in the male fantasy world of Blonde Cunt Magazine, their pretty mouths open to accept the intrusions of the men who lusted after them. Trudi and I talked a little more, but nothing of significance was said. As the hour had grown late and we had polished off the bottle of wine, Trudi took me by the hand and guided me to her bedroom. She kissed me. We undressed. Trudi and I cuddled. When I tried to touch her breasts, she stopped me. "All breasts belong to Master" she said. "We can press our breasts together, or rub our nipples against one another's pussies, or asses. But we must never, ever touch them with our hands or mouths. Only Master is permitted to do that." Trudi licked my pussy as she had promised. She pleasured me just as I had pleasure her earlier at Master's behest. The experience was a pale shadow of when Master had licked my pussy and my clit. Frankly, lesbian sex was boring. I missed my Master. Trudi and I fell asleep. I slept soundly. Many hours later, I heard the bedroom door open. Outside the bedroom window, dawn light crept in beneath the shades. I thought one of Trudi's girls might be coming to bed with us. I was surprised and delighted to see that it was not any girl: It was Master! He climbed into bed. Master was naked, as were Trudi and I. The three of us immediately began to touch, kiss, suck, and fuck. Master was like pure dynamite in bed, where Trudi had been a mere firecracker. He fucked us both in every hole. I lost count of my orgasms. After almost an hour, I expected Master to cum inside Trudi or me, probably in the mouth. But he didn't cum at all. Instead, after he was done fucking us, he lay with us for a few minutes. We were, all three, combined into one loving heap of entwined limbs. After Trudi and I had regained our composure, Master kissed us both and got out of bed. "Where are you going, Master?" I asked. "To get in bed with my little girls, of course!" he said with a smile and a wink. Trudi was not surprised at all. I recalled little Deborah's pornographic drawings. Now I knew where she got her inspiration from. "Trudi" I said in a tentative, hopeful voice, "do you think Master would mind if I went into your daughters' room to watch?" Trudi laughed. "Sweetheart, I know Master would love it if you watched. And join in! Let's go." ???
Chapter 8 It had been a long time since I'd woken up in a household full of people. During my career working as a corporate accountant and then as a forensic accountant at the FBI, I had always lived alone. Waking up next to Trudi felt nice. I enjoyed listening to the voices of her 3 daughters in the hallway outside. Hearing Master's strong yet fatherly voice speaking to the girls gave me a warm feeling. I soon heard the voice of Mildred telling the girls to get dressed before breakfast. I heard Odelia tell them what she had baked for breakfast. And I heard Pamela chatting with the triplets as if she were their older sister. All of this brought back memories of my childhood in rural Pennsylvania. I felt as if I had come home. The bedroom door opened, and Master entered. He was as naked as he had been when he'd come to us at the crack of dawn to enjoy early morning sex. When Master climbed into bed with Trudi and me, he was slightly sweaty. His sexy male odor was layered with additional natural fragrances from the other females he had been with since he left our bed an hour ago. Trudi and I gave him space to lay between us. We took turns sucking his dick. We kissed and cuddled and hugged him. He suckled at our breasts and we sucked his dick, by turns. It was sexy and friendly and loving and oh so sweet. I could have gone on this way for hours. Being with Master naked in bed snuggling with him, and sucking him, and being sucked by him was my idea of heaven. Eventually, Master told us to just snuggle up next to him. He wanted to talk. Master said "After breakfast, I want you both in the office. Lena, I have someone for you to meet." He gazed at me intensely. I knew he was reading my mind. I mean, I know that he does that all the time, but sometimes it's much more obvious than others. And sometimes he does it deeper, or more forcefully, to control me. I understood that Master could make me say or do anything he chose. And that no longer bothered me in the least. In fact, I found it completely lovely. You have no idea how liberating it is to be in his thrall! Master turned to Trudi. "You've been taking very good care of Lena, my darling. I will reward you for that. What would you like?" Trudi had a gleam in her eye. "Master, being your slave and serving you with my body and soul is all I ever want." She paused. I could tell there was something more coming. "But I'd like two things. Let me suck you off and swallow your heavenly cum. And let Lena come and live with us as your second slave-wife in our little family." I was surprised, but pleasantly so. Master turned and gave me his deep probing look again. Then he said "Lena, I have many slave-wives. Trudi is not the only one. And many slave-daughters. But very few of my slave-wives also has a co-wife. Would you like to be Trudi's co-wife in slavery to me? I could compel you to do this by my power over you. But I don't want to do that. I want you to choose freely." I didn't know what to say. I loved Trudi as a friend, even a bi-sexual one, but I didn't love her the way I loved Master. Yet she had been so good to me. And…Old Lena rose up from the depths again, seeing the possible advantage of being with Trudi in an intimate partnership as a way to gain more insider information. That did it. Although I had believed Old Lena was history, or weak and ineffectual, she kept coming back. Old Lena still clearly had more influence inside me than I cared to admit. "Yes, Master" I said "I will gladly be Trudi's co-wife slave if it means I am your wife-slave, too." He smiled. "Then considerate it done. The two of your suck my dick as a team. I've been conserving my sperm this morning. Whichever of you happens to be sucking me when I cum must share my sperm with the other one. When you two bitches share your Owner's cum, I declare you both to be my slave-co-wives." "Yes, Master!" Trudi and I said at almost exactly the same time. We both went down on Master like a team of hungry whores. We licked his shaft from two sides at once. Then we took turns sucking him and licking his balls. Trudi gave Master some amazing deepthroats I couldn't match. I only hoped that my sucking was good enough to please him. As we both worshipped Master with our mouths and throats, he grew more and more aroused. Trudi's deepthroating of him was what brought Master to the edge of orgasm. She had to stop deepthroating him to make sure he came in her mouth instead of shooting his precious sperm straight down her throat. I continued licking Master's balls while he held Trudi's thick blonde hair in his hands and shot his precious load of cum into her mouth. She kept pumping her head and sucking as Master spurted inside her mouth. After his frenzied exertions subsided, Master let go of Trudi's hair. She released his penis from her mouth gently, making sure not to spill a single precious sperm. I leaned my head back and opened my mouth. Trudi leaned over me with love in her eyes and opened her lips slightly. A string of semen emerged from her mouth and entered mine. Then she closed her mouth and swallowed the rest. I did the same. We kissed. Then Master gathered us both into his strong arms. "I now pronounce you my slave-co-wives" he said before kissing us both. "Now let's go to the breakfast table. We'll shower later. I want to see the girls again before they go off to school." We put on our thick white bathrobes and leather slippers. The three of us left the bedroom together and walked arm-in-arm to the dining area in front of the large window. Bright morning sunlight illuminated the scene as the platinum blonde triplets Deborah, Dina, and Donna sat at table with the women who served them as part of the family. Mildred, Odelia, and Pamela were more than servants. They were our sister slaves in Master's harem. And little Deborah, Dina, and Donna were not merely Trudi's adopted daughters: they were Master's little slaves. Master sat at the head of the table. Odelia poured his coffee. Pamela served him from the large basket of baked goods that she and Odelia had been baking since before dawn. Mildred presented Master with a bowl of fresh fruit salad. After he had been served, the women then served Trudi and me. Then they sat down at table again and joined in the general conversation of the day. The little girls talked about their friends at school and the various activities going on. Mildred and Odelia spoke about harem events, and who was scheduled to do porno shoots this week. Evidently everyone knew everyone else's business when it came to making dirty movies at Blonde Cunt Magazine. Breakfast ended when Mildred took the girls off to school. Odelia and Pamela cleaned up from breakfast. While they did that, Master said to Trudi and me that the time had come for us to shower with him. We went to the bathroom where Master, Trudi, and I all showered together. Just like the first time that we had showered with him, Trudi washed Master while he fondled her. He did the same with me. I felt deeply connected to Master. I also felt connected to Trudi, but to a lesser extent. When Trudi and I washed Master's body, Trudi and I were also serving ourselves in some way. Master was like our head and the trunk of our singular body, while Trudi and I were his limbs. Master washed himself using Trudi and me as his arms and hands. This might sound creepy, but it was absolutely delightful! The sensation was intimate and deeply loving. Being part of Master made me feel like I was doing what I was born to do. This feeling was related to the ecstasy I felt when Master ejaculated in my mouth. Although washing him was not ecstatic like that, it still had a deeply loving feeling of intimate connection. I'd never enjoyed showering so much before in my life! After the shower, while we three were dressing in the bedroom, Master told us about the day's activities. He said we would go to the office and meet with someone. Later in the day, Master would be whoring me out again. From my depths, I felt Old Lena squirming at the mention of being whored out again. New Lena and I had the upper hand in this matter, and we squashed Old Lena back down into the depths of darkness. She could stew down there while I followed Master's order to suck and fuck whoever he told me to. When we got to the office, Master directed Trudi and me to wait for him inside a meeting room. We sat down at a long table. On the wall was a very large tv monitor. Trudi said "Master told me we should watch the video of you and Ryan while he takes care of another matter. He'll join us shortly. "Trudi pressed some buttons on a remote control. The room lights dimmed, and the screen lit up. I saw myself dressed as a school teacher standing in front of a whiteboard. In walked Ryan…except it wasn't Ryan! The young man did not have red hair like Ryan. His hair was dark brown. The remainder of his face was obscured by digital pixilation. This young man was substantially broader at the shoulders than Ryan. He also looked more stout in the middle. He did wear the private school uniform of white shirt, stripped tie, and blue blazer with gold-stitched logo on the pocket. His voice was altered as well. He did not sound anything like Ryan. That wasn't the only difference. Although I looked and sounded exactly as I do in real life, every time I spoke the young man's name, instead of saying "Ryan" the name "Bryan" came out. "Trudi, how did they do this?" I asked. "These kinds of special effect alterations require weeks and weeks of time for the big movie studio special effects companies to create. But we only made this video yesterday. Trudi gave me a wry smile as she shook her head from side to side. "Lena, darling, after all the other technological wonders you've seen or heard of already, how can a few trivial special effects blow your mind?" I shrugged my shoulders and held up my hands at my sides. "I don't know. Sometimes I'm still this small-town girl from rural Pennsylvania." We watched the video to its completion. Just then Master walked in with a beautiful blonde woman in her twenties. I had not seen her here before. Yet at the same time, she seemed vaguely familiar. Master said "Lena. Trudi. I'd like to introduce you to Vendela Vit. Professor Vendela Vit." He turned to the woman and asked, "Or should I say 'former professor'?" Vendela smiled at him. "You could say that, Master" she replied. Master looked directly at me. "Have you heard of Dr. Vit before, Lena?" Suddenly I recognized the woman. "You're that crazy professor who wrote a book about being abducted by aliens and used in some weird sex experiments, or something" I blurted out. Vendela rolled her eyes and shook her head. She covered her face with both hands for a moment, then dropped them and fixed me with an icy stare. Master put an arm around her, saying "Don't worry, darling, we're all friends here. Lena is just…new. And a trifle odd." Trudi laughed at that last comment, and then quickly covered her mouth. She gave me a sheepish look. I think she was feeling apologetic for having laughed at my expense. Master looked at Vendela, then at me, while saying "It's probably best if we show Lena the podcast interview you did, Vendela. It really was the best coverage you received in any mass media, I think." Vendela nodded. She and Master sat down at the long table opposite Trudi and me. We swiveled in our chairs to face the tv monitor on the wall. Trudi pushed some buttons on the remote control. A title appeared on the screen: "From Feminist to Sex Slave: A Scientist in Harem World" [Scene: The monitor of your internet-connected computer. Split-screen with a man in the left half and a woman on the right. The man is a disheveled-looking 23-year-old hipster wearing a t-shirt with an image and slogan. He has tousled brown hair and a perennial smirk. The man hosts a very popular podcast about sex and strange doings called Wet. He calls himself Splooge Bob Wet Pants. The woman is slightly older with long blonde hair piled atop her head in a bun. She is very pretty, with big blue eyes and full red lips. She wears owlish round eyeglasses and a tight, low-cut white blouse that reveals her ample cleavage. Her name is Vendela Vit.] BOB: Hey men and women, boys and girls, gays and straights, trans and nons, and all the ships at sea and in space, it's your bro from another ho you don't know, the ever-lovin' Splooge Bob Wet Pants again. This week I've got a really special guest for you. Unless you've been living under a rock, you've probably already heard of her. Vendela Vit is the former professor of…uhh, I had it here a moment ago…umm, ok, we'll get back to that. I'll ask her, I suppose. Anyways folks, Prof. Vit got canned from her university job for writing the most fuckin' unbelievable book I've ever come across in my not-so-long but very colorful life. Her book is titled…uh, I've got it right here. Right, yeah. From Feminist to Sex Slave: A Scientist in Harem World. This novel has blown the socks off a lot of people and… VENDELA: Bob, excuse me, but it's not a novel. My book is non-fiction. BOB: Ha! Yeah, that's what you say. But I mean, darlin', fact or fiction, this is the dirtiest book I've ever read! And you published it under your own name. It cost you your job. Oh, and yeah, what was your job again? VENDELA: I was Associate Professor of Neurobiology at Stanford University. BOB: Wow, that's pretty impressive. VENDELA: Yes, thank you. I did my undergraduate work at Harvard, got my Master's at MIT, and then my PhD at Stanford. BOB: Yes, well (harrumph) [affects a superior tone of voice] I pursued my degree in panty removal and sexual penetration at the school of hard knocks that really rocks. VENDELA: You see me smiling. BOB: Hahaha! Yes, I do. And I've got to tell you professor, if all my teachers looked like you, I'd have gotten a fucking PhD. VENDELA: That's sweet. Thank you, Bob. May I call you Bob? Or do you prefer Mr. Wet Pants? BOB: Bob will do. You haven't made me wet my pants yet. But you could, babe, you could. May I call you Babe? VENDELA: Make that Professor Babe. BOB: Hahaha! You've got the right spirit, girl! VENDELA: Thank you, Bob. BOB: OK Professor Babe. You've also done some professional modelling, haven't you? VENDELA: Yes, I did. It helped pay my way through school. I worked for the Ford Modeling Agency, or as it is known today, Ford Models. BOB: You are a classic blonde beauty. What's your ethnic background? Your name is Swiss, isn't it? VENDELA: Swedish. My parents emigrated from Sweden to the United States when I was an infant. Both my parents are physicians. My father was a professor of medicine at Johns Hopkins before his retirement. My mother was in private practice. BOB: How do your parents feel about your change of career from professor of science to controversial writer? VENDELA: They are very supportive. They think I'm crazy, but they love me anyway. BOB: So let's talk about your novel… VENDELA: Nuh-uh-uh! I warned you already, Bob. It's not a novel. My book is non-fiction. It happened to me. BOB: Really? You expect us to believe that you got picked up by a flying saucer and… VENDELA: What? Bob, did you even read the fuckin' book?! BOB: I—yeah, well—parts of it. The pages my friend marked on his Kindle. VENDELA: Geez, Bob, at least do me the courtesy of buying a copy and reading it. Now I'm hurt. [Crosses her arms, pouts, and tilts head down.] BOB: I'm sorry Vendela. Prof. Vit. Prof. Babe? Look, we kinda got off on the wrong foot. My fault. Totally my fault. VENDELA: [Gives a half-smile with the left side of her mouth and raises her eyebrows.] Apology accepted. Maybe you should just let me summarize my book in outline form. Then we can talk about it. BOB: Deal! Go right ahead. VENDELA: OK. I was kidnapped. Not by some alien in a UFO. By a man who calls himself the Master. He took me to his planet using some sort of technology that I can only compare to a Star Trek transporter. One moment I was on earth, and the next I was on his planet. It's…it's in another dimension or parallel universe, I think, based on what I saw and what he told me. I can't vouch for that. What I can vouch for is what happened there and what happened to me. The Master turned me from a feminist with a jaundiced view of men into his loyal, loving, eager sex slave. He became my Master. I became his slave. He IS my Master, still. He accepted me into his harem and I lived there for over two years. I did whatever Master told me, including sex acts I had never, ever imagined myself doing. Totally submissive acts of a sex slave. Nothing was too dirty or degrading. Nothing was out of bounds. BOB: Oh, yeah! Those were the parts I read. Wow-wee! Some of that stuff I'd never even seen in porn! VENDELA: Yes, well, I wasn't too familiar with porn myself before I became the Master's sex slave. His tastes are rather…extreme. I don't think I could have survived some of those sex acts if I had done them on earth. The Master has powers and advanced biotechnology that made dangerous sex safe on his planet. BOB: I know! That's what blows my mind! That's what makes it hard for me to believe that any of that happened. No offense. VENDELA: None taken. BOB: A lot of people have been very upset by what you wrote. They say your story contradicts itself. They say that you had a mental breakdown and fantasized the whole thing. They say that you're harming yourself and the cause of women's liberation. Care to respond to any of that? VENDELA: They're wrong. My story is self-consistent. It is an honest report of my experiences. I spent over two years in my Master's harem, living as his sex slave, and I've never been happier in my life. It did me no harm. Nor did my Master harm me. He liberated me to be a true woman. A true woman is committed to one man. She serves him with everything she's got. I am a true woman now, thanks to him. He is a true man. BOB: Uhhh. OK. Let me get specific. I'm looking here at an article about you from the online mag Viceroy. It was written by Gillie Gutwrought. She has a long list of contradictions in your story. You said you were gone for two years, but you were only away from your job for a long weekend. VENDELA: Yes, that's correct. As I told you, the Master's world is in another dimension or parallel universe. The technology the Master used to transport me to his world included the capacity to move me through both space and time. It was time travel as well as space travel. He took me between here and there, and then brought me back to a point in time shortly after I'd left. Master allowed me to live on his world for two-plus years, and returned me to earth after only a few days had passed here. He is the Master of space and time. BOB: Where were you supposed to be on earth for those few days? VENDELA: I had rented a cabin in the mountains for a four day weekend. I wanted some privacy, peace, and quiet while I tried to complete the writing of a scientific paper. BOB: What was your paper about? VENDELA: The title is "Neural Correlates of Conscious Choice under Libet-Constrained Conditional Permutations." BOB: What does that mean in English? VENDELA: It means your capacity for making conscious, free will choices is not as great as you think it is. BOB: Well, I don't know about that. I mean, I have an opinion, but I don't think the audience cares. Let's get back to your book. VENDELA: OK. BOB: You came back from your weekend away and immediately began writing your book. Your colleagues say you had changed. You became obsessive about writing. Your friends say that you barely talked to them. Many thought that you'd become mentally ill. VENDELA: I was a bit obsessive. But I was not mentally ill. I had never been more sane in my life. BOB: They also said that you had changed physically. They said you had gotten a boob job. VENDELA: Hahaha! My breasts are definitely bigger than they used to be. But I did not get a conventional breast augmentation. No implants or silicone injections. BOB: Hmm. They certainly look impressive. Of course, I can't tell if you've got implants unless I feel your knockers myself. All in the interest of science, you understand. VENDELA: Of course. I am a firm believer in the scientific method of empirical research and testing. Hands on. BOB: I couldn't agree more! I'd love to reach right through this web cam and grab your tits. For science. VENDELA: I'm sure you would. All for the sake of science. BOB: Prof. Babe, your book reads like extreme porn. Not the gentle female porn with erotic romance. Hardcore men's porn. You were used, abused, and treated as if your body only existed for your Master to exploit. You know, that's kinda hot! And it wasn't just you. There was, like, a dozen other women. VENDELA: Oh, far more than that, Bob. When I got there the Master already had nearly 250 sex slaves in his harem. By the time I left two years later, he had 300. BOB: 300 Spartans! Or 300 spunk harlots. VENDELA: Haha! That's pretty funny. I like your sense of humor. I've come to enjoy being exploited by men. BOB: Ohhh, Prof. Babe. Now my pants are wet. VENDELA: Poor Bob. You wasted all that good sperm without giving me a taste? BOB: [Clutches chest.] Doctor! I need an emergency Viagra treatment! VENDELA: Don't worry, Bob. I'm sure there's more where that came from. BOB: Don’t you know it, Babe! VENDELA: When I lived in my Master's Harem World, he was the only man on the planet. I didn't mind at all. I love him totally. Worship him, in fact. 'Still do. I have no interest in other men, except when he orders me to. When he sent me back here, he gave me a Mission: Bring sexual enlightenment to the women of earth, and sexual pleasure to the men. BOB: Now you're talkin' my language! VENDELA: When Master kidnapped me, I was a fool; a feminist fool. My conceptions about men and women were completely askew from reality. It's kind of funny, because even before Master took me, I'd already been having doubts about the type of feminism that was all around me in academia. It didn't fit with any model of evolution that I knew of. And it certainly did not improve my life as a woman. My relations with men were fraught with difficulties that didn't need to be there. I even had a brief relationship with a woman. [Snorts derisively.] What a mistake that was. I was a little fool, I was! I did it for ideological reason. Lesbian sex is mediocre. There was no attraction, really. But that's not to say I am against having sex with other women. I have no interest in it. But when Master commands me to do it, I do it with complete dedication. To please him. To please the man I love, worship, and adore. I don't care about having sex with women. But I would do anything for my Master. I belong to him. He owns me: heart and mind, and body and soul. BOB: [Takes a deep breath and blows it out.] I envy him! What does this guy have that I don't? VENDELA: You mean besides the power to read my mind, control me with his mind, and make me want whatever he wants me to want? Nothing, I suppose. Except his own pleasure planet where everyone enjoys a life of art, leisure, sensual pleasure, and endless sex in idyllic surroundings. Plus his ability to give me an orgasm just by looking at me. BOB: Uhh…yeah. I ain't got that. VENDELA: Poor dear. Master sent me here to help men like you get a little taste of what he enjoys all day, every day. BOB: Yeah, about that, Prof. Babe. I want to ask you about all these stories I hear about you seeking out Men's Rights Activists and giving them the best sex of their lives. True or not true? VENDELA: True, Bob. I told you I was on a Mission from Master. He told me to first seek out the men who had been hurt most by feminists like my former self. He wanted me to show them what a real woman does to please a man. BOB: Help! Show me, please! VENDELA: I will, Bob. Promise. But not while we're on the internet. I wouldn't want to embarrass you when we get intimate. BOB: [Flustered look and waving hands.] Prof. Babe, you name the time and place, and I'll be there. VENDELA: Deal. BOB: [Smiles and claps hands.] You drive a hard bargain. But I accept. VENDELA: Hahaha! Very good, Bob. You don't yet know what I can do for a man. But I promise you this: I will do anything you want me to do, except for one thing: I will not leave my Master. He still owns me, body and soul. BOB: That's ok. Just so long as he lets me rent you for a while. VENDELA: He has no problem with that! BOB: Getting back to your book. You did everything for your Master: oral, vaginal, anal, ass-to-mouth, watersports, scat, bisexual stuff. Am I forgetting anything? VENDELA: Lactation. He induced lactation in my breasts and I gave him my milk. He nursed at my breasts during sex. And any time he wanted to, really. BOB: This is making me thirsty! VENDELA: Hahaha! Sweetheart, I'm afraid I dried up since coming back to earth. Master promised to make me lactate again when I go back. I can't wait! BOB: How long will you be among us mere mortals? VENDELA: I don't know. Master will tell me when he's ready to take me back. BOB: Publishing your book got you fired. Some people said it was because of the sex with underage girls. How young were they? VENDELA: Age is a relative concept. Biologically, the youngest girls were 6-years-old. Master could have made them any age he wanted. He created most of his female property synthetically using a type of biotechnology that, frankly, as a scientist, I'm still struggling to understand. Here on earth right how our science has no idea how to do what he does every day on his planet. He creates women from scratch according to his specifications. He programs them to think, and feel, and do whatever he wants them to. Plus others things he does with women from earth like me. BOB: What other things? VENDELA: I was among the few women from earth that Master kidnapped and enslaved. He reprogrammed me while I was in transit from earth to his planet. His technology was like a combination of Star Trek transporter with an added biotechnology. It augmented my body and brain. It was like a reboot and rewrite system, to put it crudely. But he didn't get most of his women that way. Most of his females he grew himself inside a place he called Womb World. It's on the same planet as Harem World. I got to see it. Master showed me how he designed, built, and programmed these girls from the cellular level up in Womb World. He controlled their neurological development. This was mind-blowing to me as a neuroscientist. I mean, I understand a lot about the brain and central nervous system. But compared to what Master was able to do, I understand nothing. His technological command of neurogenesis and synaptic formation was beyond anything I can imagine doing in our best modern labs. He literally programmed the brains of every woman and girl on that planet. He made them want what he wanted them to want. He made them want to thank him for letting them have sex with him. It was amazing! BOB: You lost me there. VENDELA: Which part? BOB: All of it. Well, most of it. Are you telling me that these women were robots? VENDELA: Not robots. Biological women and girls custom-made to Master's specifications. BOB: Didn't they have free will? VENDELA: Do you have free will? BOB: Of course I do! VENDELA: How do you know? BOB: I just know. VENDELA: You just think you know. There is a lot of neuroscience that says you're wrong about that. That's what my scientific paper was about, the one I mentioned earlier; the one I was writing when the Master abducted me and took me to his planet. BOB: OK, let's skip the science part. Tell me about your Master having sex with little girls. VENDELA: As I said, he set the lower limit at 6-years-of-age. There's nothing in his science and technology that requires that limit. He simply chose it. I don't know why. I asked him. He refused to tell me. And I never ask twice if Master doesn't want to disclose something. BOB: You mean he could have girls of any age he wanted? VENDELA: If he wanted, yes. BOB: Wow! So he's a pedophile. VENDELA: Don't be silly! The Master rules an entire planet. His word is law. Under his law, those girls are perfectly legal. BOB: It's good to be king! VENDELA: Hahaha! Yes, I imagine it is. BOB: So let me get this straight. Your Master makes these little girls in his Womb World, right? How do they get to his—what do you call it?—Harem World. VENDELA: Yes. The Master has a regular delivery schedule for his "new young cunts" as he calls them. He takes delivery of a fresh new virgin 14-year-old every month. Plus one more on his birthday. And a whooping dozen at Christmas. BOB: Wow! The twelve cunts of Christmas! VENDELA: Precisely! Sometimes Master goes off schedule and takes an additional new girl now and then. But usually he sticks to it. If you've been keeping count, you'll know that Master receives 25 fresh new 6-year-old virgins per year. BOB: So he gets 25 new children every year? VENDELA: More. He gets 25 girls that are 6-year-olds per year. He also gets young women in their twenties that he creates directly. And it doesn't include the women he kidnaps from earth. Like me. The women in Master's harem span a range of ages between 6 and 36. He calls these the ripe years. BOB: Oh, right, right, right! You're not a child, are you? How old are you Prof. Babe? VENDELA: I'm 28. BOB: You don't look it! I figured you for 24 or 25. How do you manage to look so young? VENDELA: I swallow a lot of sperm. BOB: Aiiiee! My pants are wet again. VENDELA: That's sweet. BOB: It'd be sweeter if you were an eater. VENDELA: Hahaha! I will be. I promise. BOB: I know. I KNOW! Could I ask you for a favor, right now? VENDELA: Sure. I can't make any promises until I know what you want, though. But you can always ask. BOB: Will you uncover your tits? Just for me. I promise my millions of fans on the Internet won't look. VENDELA: Sure, sweetheart. If I'm going to bare my breasts, I might as well let my hair down too. [Takes off eyeglasses. Reaches atop her head and undoes the hair bun. Long blonde hair unrolls, hanging below her shoulders. Shakes head and hair waves side to side. Uses hands to brush hair away from face. Unbuttons blouse and removes it to reveal a white lacey bra. Reaches behind her back and unlatches bra. Bra falls away to reveal very large, pale white breasts with wide pink areolae and nipples.] You like? BOB: Oh. My. God! They're magnificent! How big are they? VENDELA: 44-inch G-cups. BOB: How old were you when your chest reached this size? VENDELA: [Laughs] I was only a 34-inch C-cup when the Master kidnapped me. He induced my breasts to grow to their present size. BOB: He gave you implants and added 10 inches and [counts on fingers] 4 cup sizes to your chest? VENDELA: Not implants. As I told you, he induced my breasts to grow. His biotechnology changed my hormonal balance and activated plenitpotential cells to make my breasts grow. He even changed the size of my nipples and areolae. Master likes big breasts with pink nipples. BOB: I didn't understand any of that except for the part about big breasts with pink nipples. Your Master has good taste! VENDELA: Hahaha! Yes, thank you, I think he does too. I'm so glad he chose me. I'm so happy that he gave me big breasts to serve him with. BOB: Well then he's the luckiest man in the world! VENDELA: In the universe. BOB: Yeah. In the universe. How did he get so lucky? Who gave him that planet and that powerful tech? VENDELA: Excellent questions. I don't have any answers. He refused to tell me when I asked. Master said he took an oath not to reveal how he got his powers. I respect his privacy. BOB: Of course, of course. Do you have any ideas, or speculations? VENDELA: I do. From what I saw of it, I would guess that the Master's technology is at least a couple of centuries beyond ours. Perhaps even more than that. His control over physics and biology are wide-ranging and deep. He used his tech to alter my body and brain while I was being teleported to his planet in another dimension or parallel universe. I cannot even imagine theoretical explanations for how he could that. I can't conceive of the science behind how he does everything he does, much less having even the remotest idea for creating a technology to accomplish it. He could be a time traveler. But that wouldn't explain how he acquired his private planet. He could have been given the planet and the tech by an extraterrestrial race of beings who also occupy that parallel universe. But I have no idea why they would do such a thing. I can't imagine anything that Master could have given them in exchange for such largess. Beyond those possibilities, all my other speculations quickly spin off into absurdities. So that's all I've got. That's all I can say on the subject. BOB: OK. So, uh, tell me Prof. Babe, what was your favorite part of being a sex slave? VENDELA: It may seem strange to say it, but simply belonging to him, being his property, was actually the best part. Most people probably think it would have been the life of luxury and leisure in Harem World. Only billionaires on earth have anything even remotely approaching the material wealth the Master shared with his female sex slaves. We ate the best food. We wore the finest clothing. We lived in the most exquisite housing. We were surrounded by the most beautiful art and architecture, gardens and parklands. We had lives of leisure and fun, with only a few hours of easy work on most days. We performed various service roles the Master assigned to us. But enjoying the lifestyle of the rich was not the important thing. It paled in comparison to the simple joy of being Master's personal property. I simply loved just being owned by him. It was so comforting to know that I was his personal property. Of course, I loved serving him sexually. Nothing imaginable is better than having sex with Master! Yet just the warm feeling of being owned by him, being possessed by him; the knowledge that I was his slave; in and of itself, that was sufficient to make me happy. Simply that. Simply being his possession. Being his private property. That was my favorite part. Being owned by him. Used by him. Serving him with my body. My mouth, my breasts, my pussy, my ass—my all. Giving myself to please him was the greatest pleasure and honor I have ever had, or could ever have. I really do love, worship, and adore him. He is the center of my world. My universe. BOB: Wow. Just…wow. I watched your face while you were saying that. You looked so innocent. Vulnerable, even. The tone of your voice. It was like a little girl praying to God. VENDELA: That's how I feel about him. If God made him, then I worship God by serving Master. I am a priestess in the religion of loving my Master. [Wipes away a tear from each eye.] BOB: I—I never expected this. I feel…I feel dirty somehow. Like I'm an unworthy jerk who just entered a church. I've never felt like this before. WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO ME? VENDELA: [Smiles sweetly.] I'm showing you what real love is. BOB: Thank you. Really. Thank you for that. This feels amazing. VENDELA: It's how I feel every time I serve my Master. Or even think about him. BOB: How did you…how could you make me feel it too? VENDELA: It's my Master's power. He allowed me to share it for this Mission. You see, Master made me feel good every time I made him feel good. It was a perfect reciprocal relationship. It ensured that I and his other sex slaves served him perfectly. When I sucked his dick, he enjoyed it. I felt his pleasure as my own. So I loved doing it. And Master really loved getting good blowjobs. So I enjoyed giving them too. I would suck and suck and suck—sometimes for hours. He would cum in my mouth and I would swallow his heavenly cum. Then I would gently nurse his dick when it was tender and soft. Within the hour he would be hard again. And I would suck and suck and suck. I felt wonderful every second I had his heavenly dick in my unworthy mouth. I worshipped my Owner with my mouth. BOB: [Sighs deeply.] I wish some girl would worship me like that. VENDELA: Oh, sweetheart, I'll do that for you. Master's orders. I am here to pleasure men. And to teach other women and girls how to do it too. That's Master's Mission for me. I'm here to save women from the sickness of feminism, and to show them how to give men their rightful due. BOB: And what is men's rightful due? VENDELA: To be the protectors and lovers and heroes of the women who love and support and please them in every way a woman can. BOB: That sounds pretty good to me! VENDELA: As it should. This is what we evolved to do. Modern civilization has perverted the natural order. There is no such thing as perverted sex, only perverted ideas. We would all be much happier if we followed the most ancient way of natural masculinity and femininity. BOB: You've convinced me! Well, Prof. Babe, we're just about out of time. When are you going to show me how you serve men? Up close and personal with me, you know? VENDELA: Bob, sweetheart, I am a girl of my word. You gave me your private phone number. Expect a text message shortly. BOB: Yeah! OK, now we've really got to end the show! Good night boys and girls, I'm going to hook up with Prof. Babe, Vendela Vit. I'll report back next week. VENDELA: You are free to kiss and tell if you like, Bob. I'm only here to serve. Your slightest wish will be my command. BOB: Aaaand that's where we end the show so the real fun can begin! Goodbye everyone, and hello Vendela! VENDELA: You say goodbye, I say hello. [End of podcast] * * * The tv monitor went dark and the room lights came up. I blinked my eyes. Turning toward Vendela, I said "I'm so sorry about what I said. I never paid enough attention to what you were about. All I had heard were some second-hand, sensationalized mischaracterizations of your book." Vendela gave me the warmest smile. She leaned across the table, reached out her arm, and put her hand on top on mine. She squeezed my hand. "Don't worry about it, Lena. We both belong to the same man. That makes us like sisters. Sisters forgive sisters, right?" I returned her smile. "Right!" I said with genuine gratitude. Master spoke up. "Good girls. Now let's get to the point of why I brought you all here this morning. In this podcast video, Mr. Splooge Bob Wet Pants asked Vendela for her theories about me and this place where we all are right now. I know that Lena has been wondering the same things, and she didn't have the two years that Vendela did to learn as much about this place. So, let me tell you Lena, you are not on Earth at the moment." I felt shivers run up and down my spine. I began breathing rapidly. Then Master fixed his gaze on me. I felt as if he were embracing me with his mind. I got the sense that he knew I might faint again, and he was I felt shivers run up and down my spine. I began breathing rapidly. Then Master fixed his gaze on me. I felt as if he were embracing me with his mind. I got the sense that he knew I might faint again, and he was preventing that from happening. A sense of calm descended on me like a gentle, warm spring rain. I took a deep breath and settled down in my chair. I felt slightly tipsy. I smiled at Master. He smiled back. Master said "Let's continue. As Trudi and Vendela and all my other sex-slaves know, I do not reveal certain secrets, even if asked. I vowed not to. However, my vow contains a clause that I never mentioned before. It's the Rumpelstiltskin Clause." Trudi, Vendela, and I stared at Master, then we looked at one another. Finally, Vendela had the gumption to ask, "Master, please explain the meaning of the Rumpelstiltskin Clause." Master gave us an impish grin. "It's very simple. In the fairytale of Rumpelstiltskin, the magical imp gives a poor young woman the power to spin straw into gold, but at a price: She had to promise to give him her first-born child as soon as she had one. The imp had not revealed his name. When she eventually does give birth to a child, she pleads with the imp not to take her child. He tells her that he will relent if she can guess his name within a specified amount of time. With some help, she does learn his name: Rumpelstiltskin. After she reveals this to him, he leaves." Master paused, gazing at each of his slaves. We were all nodding with understanding. "So" Master continued "while my vow prevents me from revealing certain facts to you, the Rumpelstiltskin Clause allows me to confirm any correct guesses you might make." Master stood up from the table. "I am not obliged to spend endless hours entertaining your speculations, however." He pushed his chair to the table. "So I am going to leave this room and return in one hour. When I return, you girls will have an hour to take your best shot at guessing my secrets. After that, I will not listen to any more speculations unless or until I decide to do so again at some future time. So you understand?" Trudi, Vendela, and I agreed that we understood Master's conditions. He nodded, turned, and walked out of the room. As soon as the door closed, Trudi and Vendela began speaking rapidly. Trudi told me to go to the whiteboard at the end of the room opposite from the tv monitor and take notes. I did. We worked feverishly for the next hour, coming up with every idea we could think of. Then Master returned, and our period of testing began.
Chapter 9 I would like to tell you that Vendela, Trudi, and I came up with a host of clever questions (or more precisely, guesses that Master would confirm or deny) to compel our Master to reveal his secrets under the Rumpelstiltskin Clause exception to his vow of secrecy. Trudi did certainly know quite a bit about the Master already, since she served as his personal executive secretary. She made some very pointed inquiries. And Vendela, being a woman with a PhD in neuroscience from Stanford and a sky-high IQ, did understand how to deploy clever logic traps that might have forced Master to disclose vital secret information. In the end, although I would like to tell you that Vendela, Trudi, and I compelled our Master to reveal his secrets, I can't. We failed utterly at learning the whole story. But we did come away with a few crumbs of knowledge. Master did confirm what Trudi and Vendela already knew: Master's world is not on Earth. This place would seem to be in a parallel universe, or another dimension, or something like that. Master literally said that his world is in "another part of the megaverse, or as some call it, multiverse." This statement was not news, since he had made it to some of his other sex slaves in the past, according to Trudi. Vendela asked specifically if Master's world could be properly thought of as being in a parallel universe. Master said that such a formulation was acceptable but not technically correct, because parallel lines never meet in "flat space" and Earth exists in a flat space universe. Trudi and I did not have the science background to understand what all of that meant in detail. Vendela knows more about it, but she herself admitted that she's a neuroscientist, not a physicist, so she lacks knowledge of what parallel universes or dimensions really are. Vendela asked if the Master got his powers and his planet from "aliens from outer space." Master asked, "Do you mean aliens from another planet?" Vendela pondered his question before answering it with another question, "Could there be aliens from Earth?" Master just laughed. "You'll have to do better than that, Vendela." They went round and round on this point. Vendela tried many different formulations of her question, including suggestions that the aliens came from a different time but the same planet. Or that they came from Earth's future. None of these variations elicited a definitive answer from the Master. He said they were not precise enough to encapsulate the essential truth of the matter. Trudi, Vendela, and I were left with the impression that Master had been given his powers, but we were unclear as to who bestowed the powers upon him. Trudi asked some questions about the Master's network of contacts on Earth: the men of influence, the men of wealth, and the men of political power who sought access to the women and girls Master whored out through Blonde Cunt Magazine. Trudi brought up the same point she had made to me privately, about the Master's plan to "change the world." She wanted to know more about that. Trudi proposed various ideas that might be part of Master's plan. Most of her ideas were off-base, apparently. The only definitive statements that Master affirmed were that he was not trying to make himself into a world dictator, and that the world was in a bad way and getting worse. His plan was to make things better. How he planned to do that was still a mystery to us, because every idea we floated up like a balloon the Master shot down with darts of denial. We asked if his network of lecherous men was a secret army. "No" he replied. We were left with the impression that these men were being used by the Master for his own purposes, and that those purposes were ultimately benign. Those men might now realize it, but Master seemed to be harnessing their lust to save the world! Master also confirmed some things that Vendela already knew and had stated in her podcast interview, including the fact that Master can move us between Earth and his world through both space and time. A couple of years in Master's world could be mere days on Earth. Perhaps even less time than that. But that's pretty much all we learned. Master assured us that we were always safe with him, that no one could harm us or come to take us away from him, and that we would enjoy long and happy lives just so long as we followed his commands and did our utmost to please him. We were all on board with that! At the end of our question and answer hour, Master said that we would not be doing this again in the foreseeable future. That was understandable. He also asked Trudi and Vendela to leave the room, so he could speak to me alone. They followed his command, and he kissed each of them before they left. Master and I sat in the conference room alone. He picked up the remote control for the tv monitor. The lights dimmed, and a new video began to play. It was the video of Master having sex with me! As with the other video I saw earlier of me having sex with Ryan, in this video Master's body did not look like his actual body, while I looked just as I really am. In this video, his face was pixilated into obscurity, his body was somewhat overweight, and his hair was grey. He had tattoos which he does not really have. He looked altogether different in this video than in reality—and not in a nice way! His voice was also deliberately changed so it sounded unlike him. But when he spoke and when I did, we both used the names we commonly use: he called me Lena and I called him Master. When we shot the scene, there were many camerawomen at work. The edited video we watched included many shots from different angles. Sometimes the whole screen was divided into two or more windows with different shots in each one. The close-ups of my body were EXTREMELY detailed. If you were a forensics expert, you could probably identify me from the close-ups of my vagina and anus alone. After the video concluded, Master asked "So what do you think of this and the other porn video you starred in, Lena? And I do mean you were the star. Men who watch porn barely pay any attention to the men who appear in them. The bitch is always the star!" I blushed. "Thank you, Master" I said to buy a little time, while I composed myself emotionally and gathered my thoughts. "I am very honored to appear in a porn video with you. And—and thank you for whoring me out to Ryan. I didn't enjoy that experience, but I was honored to serve you in any way that you want me to." Finally, I had run out of temporizing statements. I had to speak of my real concerns. "Master" I began "will my friends and family and co-workers be able to see me in porn?" Master leaned his head back and laughed. "Lena, my darling, of course they will! That's the whole point of using real, identifiable women with unidentifiable men. Back on Earth, no one will be certain of who the men in these videos are except the men themselves and perhaps a few others that they share confidences with. But everyone will know who the women and girls are. Except, ironically, the women and girls themselves. With the exception of a precious few cunts, all the rest will have their conscious memories wiped before I return them to Earth. Subconsciously, they will have some vague recollections of what happened to them, but those wispy memories will seem more like dreams or repressed sexual desires. And as you know from your FBI investigative team, the women and girls bear no physical marks of extreme sexual abuse or even the soreness that comes with too much sexual activity in a short period of time. So, there will be no memories and no physical traces for the women and girls. Meanwhile, the men will have vivid, crystal clear memories of everything they did with those bitches' tits, cunts, mouths, and assholes. And if the men ever forget, they can just re-watch the videos!" A question came up for me. "Master, what about the fat man I saw in the hallway with the little blonde girl that looked like Trudi's daughters? I mean, your daughters with Trudi? I mean…" Master held up one hand like a stop sign. "Enough! I understand your question, Lena. Don't worry about what to call my little cloned angels." Master had a warm smile on his face when he mentioned his little daughters. "The fat man looks the same in real life as in the video you saw because he asked for that and I granted his request. Back on Earth, he is not famous, and not super-rich although he is a multi-millionaire. He works in the technical, computers and math side of a financial company. He has access to lots of valuable information. I trade him access to my sweet little whores in exchange for that information. In real life, he hasn't had much success with women, which I'm sure does not surprise you. Here at Blonde Cunt Magazine, he has had some of the most beautiful women and girls in the world to fulfill his every sexual fantasy, no matter how dirty or seemingly depraved. He's not a monster. He just likes what he likes. And what he likes does not cross any of my immovable barriers. I would never allow him to cause real harm to my women and girls. He just likes to use them in…certain ways that even most prostitutes refuse to do. And he has paid for his share of high-priced prostitutes back on Earth. They cost him a pretty penny. Here, it doesn't cost him a dime. He trades information to me, as I said, and that doesn't cost him anything. If he tried to sell that information on Earth, he could go to jail, because whoever bought it would use the information to make money in the stock market. I don't do that. I want the information for other reasons." Old Lena had been listening avidly to everything Master just said. It was almost as if she had stepped up from behind me, pushed me out of the way, and monopolized my ears and eyes. I felt I still had the power to push her away. But I didn't want to. I listened too, as if I were standing behind Old Lena. After Master finished speaking, I asked a question. Or was it Old Lena who was asking? "Master" I began "what do you do with that information?" Master gave me a sly smile. "Now, now, Miss Lena Muller. The Rumpelstiltskin Clause hour is over. What I do with the information is my business. Your business is…" he said and then paused while he stood up, walked around the table, stood behind my chair, and began ripping my clothes off! "…to get naked and prepare to get fucked!" I was shocked. Not that Master wanted to fuck me, but that he was going about it this way. We had had sex just this morning. I would gladly use my body to serve Master again sexually in any way he wanted. I didn't understand why he was ripping my clothes off. I tried to undress myself, to help Master, but he brushed my hands aside. Apparently, he wanted to strip me roughly. I let him do it. It was my honor to let him have his way with me. He tore the buttons off my blouse as he ripped it from my body. He pulled down my skirt and then tore my panties to pieces. He unhooked my bra and threw it aside. After he had stripped me naked, he lay me down on the table. I thought he might mount me there as I lay on my back with legs spread. Instead, he twirled me around so that my head hung off the edge of the table. Master pulled out his cock. I opened my mouth and stuck out my tongue. Master thrust his penis into my mouth roughly. I tried to suck him, but that's not what he wanted. Master was intent on fucking my throat. I relaxed as much as I could while Master forced his erect dick down my throat. "Ahhh!" he said. "There's nothing quite like a rough deepthroat. Don't you agree, Lena? Do you like having your throat raped?" I couldn't speak, obviously. All I could do in response was to grunt and gurgle. You might imagine that I was distressed by Master's rough treatment. That's how you would feel, you think, if you were in my place. But you are not in my place. If you were, you would be under Master's thrall of mind control. He made me want and like whatever he wanted me to want and like. So I was thoroughly enjoying his rough treatment. I loved having Master rape my throat! As Master continued his forced-deepthroat of me, he said "I'm not only having fun with you, Lena. I'm preparing you for your next assignment. I am going to whore you out this afternoon. And this one will be very special. You'll see what I mean when the time comes." Master said no more as we both became more and more sexually aroused. I fingered my pussy while Master fucked my throat. His penis moved faster and deeper. I could feel his orgasm approaching. Mine was coming closer too. Master grabbed both my breasts. He mashed them and squeezed hard. Then Master ejaculated down my throat, issuing lovely dirty epithets of love all the while. My own orgasm followed his, only two steps behind, as any loyal slave should. Master sat down in the chair I had been in before. He directed me to climb off the table and kneel under the desk, where I could nurse his softening cock in my grateful mouth. I followed his commands instantly. He stroked my hair as I sucked him. Master told me that I would be given new clothes for my afternoon of whoring. "You have a very bright future in my harem, Lena" Master said. "You are proving yourself to be a good slave, slut, whore. I know that there are still two Lena's inside you. Old Lena still lurks around. But New Lena no longer exists apart from you. You have become New Lena, my darling." I looked him straight in the eye while gently sucking his tender cock. A few straggling droplets of semen dripped into my mouth. I swallowed them gratefully. Master smiled. "You like eating my sperm, don't you Lena?" he asked. I tried to answer him without letting his precious penis out of my mouth. My words were garbled, but my answer was "Yes, Master, I love sucking you off and swallowing your sperm." Master looked down at me and smiled kindly. I knew he was reading my mind. He could see that I was completely sincere. Master said "You have passed all of your tests so far with flying colors, Lena." I stopped sucking Master. I signaled him for permission to allow his penis to exit my mouth so that I might speak more clearly. Master granted my request. I asked "What tests? I know you said at the start that I would be tested. But you never told me what the tests were. What were they?" Master said "Almost everything was a test. How you responded to my mind control of you. How you responded when I whored you out. How you responded to Trudi." Master paused. I felt him probing my mind. "Trudi was not trying to trick you. I didn't put her up to anything. She really did beg me to bring you here. And she really did want you to be her co-wife-slave with me. But I did instruct Trudi to monitor you closely. To help you, too; yes. But also to tease you a little with the suggestion that she knew more than she actually did about the men of Earth I deal with. Trudi barely knows any more than you or Vendela do about my real purposes and activities." Master stroked my hair. "Trudi is a lovely girl though. Don't you agree? I am glad to have you both together. You will help Trudi to raise my little girls. They please me very much. So" Master said, and then sighed deeply before continuing "it almost pains me to set you one more test. I am going to whore you out again this afternoon, as I said. I must do this because it is important for my long-term plans. If it were not so important, I'd give you more time off before your next whoring. But I want to move things along at the right pace." Master stood up, put his penis back in his pants, and gestured for me come out from under the table and rise to my feet. He picked up the remote control and pressed a button. Then he resumed speaking as the door opened a few seconds later. Trudi and Vendela entered. They were carrying a robe and slippers for me. Master said "I want you three cunts to go to the spa and relax for a while. After that, Lena, you will be dressed by my serving slaves and then brought to the studio for your afternoon whoring video." Master embraced me, and we kissed. Then it happened. At the touch of his body to mine, I felt as if we were merging into one. It was the strangest and most wonderful feeling! I felt him inside me and me inside him in a sort of subtle, psychic way that showed me something about him even as I myself was completely transparent to him. Master on the inside was much bigger than he was on the outside! He felt deep and tall and…boundless. I was overwhelmed with bliss. Space and time were forgotten. I never wanted this feeling to end. I never wanted to be separate from my Master ever again. I wanted to live in his embrace and serve him forever and ever. When Master released my body from his body some timeless-time later, I suddenly felt small and vulnerable. Trudi and Vendela held me and eased me back into the chair. I must have looked quite the sight. They hoovered over me, making calming noises and gestures. They kept saying nice, comforting things about how I was fine and would soon adjust to the after-effects of the unity experience I'd just had with Master. Master bent down and kissed me while fondling my breasts with both his hands. "Until later, my love" he said, and then turned and walked out of the room. I was in a daze. When Master walked out of the room, my whole world walked out with him. I began to weep. Trudi and Vendela tried to calm me, but I was inconsolable for several minutes. Eventually, I collected myself and resumed something like my normal sense of body boundaries and psychological balance. But whatever Master had just done to me had altered me forever. I had experienced a union with him that I had never imagined two people could ever have. What's more, I knew with complete certainty that he was much more than merely some man with extraordinary powers. His internal state was beyond the human scale as I understood it. Master seemed greater than human. I don't know how else to put it. His sexual desires and his machinations with Blonde Cunt Magazine seemed to be part of some great plan that I didn't understand. Yet these things fit into my idea of what a very powerful man might want to do. Yet these had nothing whatsoever to do what I had just experienced through unity with Master. It was utterly beyond such things as sex and power. Inside Master was incomparably greater than his outside appearance, and his internal being was sublime in every sense. I felt complete love and complete bliss inside him. I never wanted to leave that state within him. Having to leave it was the biggest let-down of my life. Trudi and Vendela recognized that I had re-attained some normality. They helped me into the robe and slippers, then aided me to rise and walk with them down the hall to the elevator and then down several floors to the spa. I had never been there before. All the while during our short journey, Vendela and Trudi tried to explain my recent experience of unity with Master. They recognized the incongruity of Master's extreme sexual dominance of his sex-slaves and his inner love and bliss, which were not often visible on the surface. The outer Master and the inner Master were paradoxically part of one and the same mane. Vendela and Trudi had had the unity experience with Master more than once. I was happy to hear that I might also experience this perfect union again at some point. Trudi and Vendela told me that they had not mentioned this whole thing before because a woman just had to experience it to know what it was. I understood their thinking completely. There is no way that any description of that lovingly blissful state could ever be conveyed by words to someone who had not undergone it themselves. At the spa, several beautiful blonde women gave Vendela, Trudi, and me a series of treatments. First came a massage. Then came a shower followed by a soak in a hot tub. After that came a quick shower rinse. Then we were toweled dry before donning robes and being seated in salon chairs where we had our hair done. Following that, cosmetologists applied makeup. When they were done, other women came in with new clothes for all three of us. I was dressed in something like the work outfit I wore to the office at the FBI. Vendela and Trudi were given cocktail dresses. Trudi said "Lena, you have some prostituting to do. Master, Vendela, and I will see you afterward. This whoring you are about to do is your final test. Master is so confident that you will pass it that he had already scheduled a party for you to celebrate." Vendela touched my arm. "What Trudi is trying to tell you is 'Don't screw up!' This final test will be more intense than anything you've been through before. Don't worry about it being dangerous. It's not that. You will be perfectly safe at all times. There is no physical danger. But the psychological impact is something else. You may find it particularly disturbing." Trudi said "Oh, Vendela! Stop scarring her!" Trudi hugged me. "You'll do just fine, darling. I know you will!" Vendela said, somewhat apologetically, "I was not trying to scare you, Lena. I just wanted you to know that no matter how distressing this might be, it will all come out right as rain." Now I was really scared. Trudi and Vendela escorted me back to the corridor with the studio stage rooms. Trudi opened the door to Studio F. Vendela gave me a gentle push inside. And so my final test began.
Chapter 10 I entered Studio F to find a stage set that looked like a US government office. The furnishings were quite different from what you might find in a high-level corporate office: the desk and chairs were cheaper, the carpeting was thinner, the artwork on the walls was undistinguished, and the American flag was the final giveaway. Camerawomen and sound technicians were standing in place. The director smiled at me. She said "This will be somewhat different from the scenes you've done before, Lena. Just relax and roll with it." Then she signaled a woman standing beside another door. The woman opened the door and a man walked in. I was nearly floored when I saw him. It was my boss's boss at the FBI, Supervisor James Trowbridge! He smiled at me and then walked straight to his desk and sat down. "Please have a seat, Lena" he said. "Your annual performance review is about to begin." I was so nervous I thought I might fall down as I walked the few steps to the chair in front of Supervisor Trowbridge's desk and sat down. I fidgeted in my chair, adjusting my posture and pulling at the hem of my skirt while he looked at some papers from a folder on his desk. His brow furrowed and then he spoke. "When was the last time you had a full capabilities test?" he asked. I didn't know what he was talking about. I'd never even heard of a "full capabilities test" before. I stammered out a reply "I—I don't recall, sir." He nodded his head. "I see" Trowbridge said as I he stood up from his desk and unzipped his fly. "Come over here and we'll begin." I knew where this was going now. "Yes, sir" I said. I began stepping towards the desk. "Stop!" Trowbridge said while holding up one hand with his open palm facing me. "Get down on your hands and knees. Then crawl over here." "Yes, sir" I replied meekly. I removed my shoes, knelt down on the thin carpet, and crawled over to the man. Camerawomen were swarming all over to capture the scene from every angle, it seemed. When I reached Trowbridge, I sat back on my heels. His dick hung out of his pants in front of me, practically staring me in the face. "Well?" Trowbridge said. Taking his cue, I said "May I suck your penis, sir?" Trowbridge smiled for the first time. "Good bitch" he said. "Do it. Do it now." I began leaning forward, mouth open, intending to take his dick into my mouth without using my hands. Supervisor Trowbridge put a hand on my forehead and stopped me. I looked up at him. "Haven't you forgotten something?" he asked. I blinked and tried to think of what I might have forgotten. My mind was blank. Trowbridge pressed his lips together into a frown. He squinted his eyes and shook his head. "How stupid can you be, bitch?" he asked. "Uncover your tits!" "Oh!" I said. "Of course, sir. I'm so sorry. I don't know what I was thinking." I began to unbutton my blouse. Trowbridge stopped me. He grabbed my blouse and tore it off me. I was surprised that the garment came apart so easily. Then I remembered that this clothing was given to me as a costume. It probably had weak seams that were meant to be easily ripped. After he had torn off my blouse, Supervisor Trowbridge grabbed the white lacey bra that encased my breasts. He squeezed hard. Then he reached inside the cup of my bra and tugged out my tit with one hand while pulling the cup down with the other. I quickly reached behind me to unhook my bra while Trowbridge struggled with the front of it. After a few moments, my 42-inch E-cup breasts were hanging naked on my chest. Supervisor Trowbridge gazed down at me and licked his lips. His penis was growing erect. Pointing at it with one finger, he spoke a single word: "Suck." "Yes, sir" I said. I opened my mouth wide and engulfed his penis. I began to apply the cocksucking techniques I had learned here at Blonde Cunt Magazine. Somehow, Master had programmed me with skills at sucking men's dicks that I had never learned through normal means. Supervisor Trowbridge began to moan with pleasure, just as Ryan had. After a minute he grabbed my head with both hands and began fucking my face. I took his cock to the back of my mouth and then down my throat. "Oh, jeeze!" Trowbridge said as he fucked my throat. "You are good! You are really, REALLY good, Lena! I never imagined you were like this." He began to grunt and moan more loudly. Trowbridge was right. I was really good at sucking and equally good at swallowing. I expected him to cum in my mouth or throat at any moment. The sooner I could make him cum, the sooner I could go. At least for a while. If I had to shoot more scenes with Supervisor Trowbridge or Ryan, at least it would take some time for them to be ready to fuck me again in any hole. My wish was not to come true, however. Supervisor Trowbridge yelled "Come on in, boys!" The door Trowbridge had come through opened again. The two male FBI agents from the team investigating Blonde Cunt Magazine, Bob and Chuck, entered the room. My heart sank. I could imagine what was going to happen next. Sure enough, Bob and Chuck whipped out their dicks and I found myself having to suck each man in turn. When I didn't have a man's penis in my mouth, I was stimulating it with a hand. You'd think these men would have some mercy on me as a fellow FBI agent. Quite the contrary. They were very rough and disrespectful as they used my mouth like a cunt. My carefully coiffed hair became undone and straggly. As they gag-fucked my throat, I choked and gagged. My eyes teared up and my eye-liner ran down my cheeks. My lipstick was smeared by the dicks against my lips. I hoped against hope that I could make all three men cum at the same time using my hands and mouth. Sadly, that was not to be. This brutal rape by my fellow FBI agents would not end quickly. The men stripped my skirt and underwear from me. Off-camera, a mattress was laid on the floor. Then the men threw me on the mattress and began taking turns fucking me. One man would put his dick in my pussy while the other two took turns raping my mouth and throat. Soon even that was not enough for them. They rolled me on my side. While one man fucked my cunt and another fucked my mouth, the third fucked me up the ass. They all took turns fucking me in every hole. They didn't care how dirty and unsanitary their lustful actions were. Perhaps they knew what Trudi had told me, that there was no danger of becoming ill from ingesting fecal matter here in Master's world. Or maybe they didn't know but didn't care if they made me sick. I was beyond caring myself. All I wanted was for the bastards to cum and then leave me alone. It took so long to make my FBI rapists cum that it seemed like forever. The only thing that got me through the ordeal was to remember who I was doing it for: my Master, the man I loved with all my heart. Obeying his orders was enough reason for me to endure this humiliating, disgusting, painful gangbang rape. I didn't know why he would let me go through this ordeal, but I had faith in him. If Master allowed this to happen, then he must have good reasons for it. Finally, within a minute of one another, Trowbridge, Bob, and Chuck each ejaculated inside me. I felt relieved that my ordeal was finally over. Only it wasn't. All three men stood up and looked down on me as I lay spread out and sore on the messy mattress. Then, as if by pre-arrangement, they grabbed their penises and pointed them at me…and began to urinate. They pissed on me! I lay there under a stream of their smelly urine. It splashed on my face, on my breasts, on my cunt, on my whole body. They kept telling me to open my mouth, but I refused. Somehow I knew that Master did not require this of me from them. I knew that only he deserved that service from me. There was one good thing about the urine that ran down my face: it hid my tears. The three men laughed and gave each other high-fives while I lay on the mattress like a broken rag doll that had had all the spirit drained out of her. After the final drops of urine had been dribbled on me, the director yelled "Cut!" Then she said to the men "Thank you, gentlemen. The Master wishes to see you now. Please go out through the door you entered from. You will be told where to go." Wiping urine from my eyes, I looked at the faces of my tormentors. Trowbridge, Bob, and Chuck had stopped laughing. They looked at one another with concern all over their faces. Apparently they hadn't been expecting to have a meeting with the Master. They gathered their clothes and left the room. As soon as the men had left, the director and camerawomen quickly rushed to my aid. They made comforting statements and noises of concern as they washed me down with wet wash cloths. They toweled me off before handing me over to Trudi and Vendela, who took me to a nearby bathroom. They put me in a shower and then got in with me. They washed me down, head to toe, all the while telling me how brave I had been and assuring me that Master would be very pleased with me and proud of how well I had served him. I wasn't so sure. I wanted to believe them. But I needed to hear those things from Master himself. After the shower, we dried off and dressed in clean, simple white dresses. The purity of the white dress was in stark contrast to the darkness that still hung over me. I felt a dirtiness that no amount of soap and water could ever wash away. Trudi and Vendela took me to another room. It was filled with comfortable furniture and homey decorations. They brought me tea and cookies, then sat next to me on a couch. They took turns massaging my feet and my neck. They were so sweet to me. I began to cry. Trudi placed my head on her shoulder. Vendela kissed my cheek. The room was silent and peaceful. Then I heard a door open. It was Master! I shot to my feet and ran to him. I don't know why, but all I could say was "Master, I'm so sorry! I'm sorry!" He took me in his strong arms. And then it happened again: I melted into him. Master absorbed me into himself and I lost all awareness of anything but him and bliss and love unbounded. Every hurt was healed. Every humiliation was washed away. I felt only joy. I felt only love. I knew only Master at the core of my being. I don't know how long this bliss lasted. I had no sense of time or space. It could have gone on for eons. I never wanted it to end. But eventually it did. I felt Master's hands on my biceps. He held me away from his body and kissed me on the lips. I kissed him back with utter devotion. And I melted right back into him again. I stayed in communion with Master for the timeless eternity of that single kiss. Eventually, that eternity ended, as it must. When I looked Master in the eye, I knew everything was alright and would always be alright so long as I served him. Then he spoke. "You passed your final test with flying colors, Lena. I will never whore you out again. I will have more assignments for you, but they will never involve the sorts of things you had to do so far." He smiled at me with a brightness like the sun. My love for him was beyond description. I never wanted to leave his presence. I said "I will do anything you tell me, Master. If you did what those men did to me, I wouldn't mind, because it's you. You are everything to me. They are nothing." Master nodded. "They are nothing compared to you, Lena. I love you with all my heart." He turned to look at Vendela and Trudi before saying "Just as I love every woman and girl I own." Master put his arm around me and we walked back to the couch where we sat down with Trudi and Vendela. He kissed each of them. Then the girls slid off the couch and sat on the floor at our feet. Trudi began massaging my feet while Vendela massaged Master's feet. "Mmm" Master said as he smiled at Vendela. He looked at me. "I must tell you something, Lena. Those men were not authorized to urinate on you. I did not tell them they could do that. They got the idea into their heads that they could get away with more than was described in their remit. And they will pay for what they've done. I've told them that. They were practically shitting their pants when I bellowed at them. They already know something of my power. And they're about to find out a lot more." Master's arm was still around my shoulder. He pulled me closer and kissed me. "Remember what Vendela said about her time staying in my harem, and her subsequent mission back on Earth?" "Yes, Master" I said. "She was here for two years while only a few days passed on Earth. Then you sent her back to spread sexual enlightenment to women and to please men." "That's right" Master said. "I also have a mission for you. But before I send you back to the craziness of life on Earth, you too will get to enjoy two years of pleasure, comfort, sex, love, and bliss living here with me and my women and girls." "Oh, Master!" I cried out with joy. I peppered his face with kisses until he took my face in both his hands and kissed me on the lips. Our tongues tangled in a dance of joy. The next two years were practically indescribable. Trudi and I were co-wife slaves of Master. I helped her raise the three little platinum blonde daughters that Master had given her. We all spent countless hours together, in bed and out of it, enjoying one another in every way imaginable. There were no after-effects from my sexual trauma at the hands of the three FBI agents. My memory of it was defused of its emotional charge. I even began joking about it. Master had healed me of everything. My gratitude to Master was boundless. Just like my love. After two years, Master sent me on a mission back to Earth. I got there just moments after I'd left. I woke up in the hotel room where the FBI had left me as a honey trap to catch the people behind Blonde Cunt Magazine. The mistaken pizza delivery had just ended, and the young man had walked away. I had gone to the hotel bed, lay down, and fell asleep. That's where I woke with full memories of having spent two years living as a happy sex-slave in Master's harem. I stayed in the hotel room for another three hours before the FBI called off the operation, declaring the trap to have failed. We all returned to the office for an after-action meeting. I sat across the table from Alice, Bob, Chuck, and Donna. Trowbridge and Sarabeth St. James sat on my side of the table. Every time I looked Trowbridge in the eye, he averted his gaze. The same happened with Bob and Chuck. I could tell they recognized that my memory of what had happened at Blonde Cunt Magazine had not been erased. I remembered what they had done to me. Perhaps they even guessed that I knew what the Master had told them afterward. The meeting dragged on to an inconclusive ending. The FBI team seemed to be no closer to catching the people behind Blonde Cunt Magazine than they ever were before. As everyone stood up to leave, I made small gestures with my fingers to the three men that they should stay. After Donna and Sarabeth had left, I closed the door. I leaned my back against the door and crossed my arms. "Sit down" I commanded. All three men sat immediately. "Let's get something straight right now" I said with seething anger. "I remember everything. Master told me everything about you. He even gave me your control phrase to verify that he authorized me to say these things: abyss flower pyramid." All three men squirmed in their seats, shook their heads in disbelief, while their faces turned a pallid color. I continued: "We've got enough video evidence on you three to get you fired, indicted, and sent to prison for a long, long time. Don't expect your wives to stand by you, either. You will be nothing but toxic waste to them." I kicked off my shoes in high arcs. One barely missed Trowbridge's head. I stepped up onto a chair and then stood on the table. I walked over to side of the table immediately in front of them. "My Master has use for you, or else you'd all be toast. He sent me here on a mission. From now on, you don't work for the FBI. You work for me." My bare feet were on the very edge of the table. "Kiss the feet of your Mistress, worms" I said. Timorously, Chuck, Bob, and Trowbridge each kissed my feet and then mumbled and stumbled through their statements of loyalty and their abject apologies for what they had done to me. Their apologies were insincere and self-serving. Their statement of loyalty were equally insincere, since they had no choice either way. But no matter. We had them by the balls and they knew it. So that's how I became Master's control asset inside the FBI. What happened to Blonde Cunt Magazine? It's still in business, luring lustful men into becoming Master's pawns inside powerful institutions of government, finance, and elsewhere. Master's mission to improve the world by using powerful or well-placed men as his pawns will continue until everyone, male and female, lives in a better situation than they are in now. I am privileged to be part of Master's team for accomplishing that. And I eagerly await the day my mission on Earth is done so I can return to the heavenly life inside Master's harem. That is all I ever want or need! By the way, have any of you heard of Redhead Cunt Magazine? 35,000 Words.
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