Blackmail

“No, no,” he moaned. “I can’t do this.”“Yes, you can,” the blonde High Priestess said firmly. “And remember that you don’t release until I say so.”Somehow David became hard for the fifth time. And for the fifth time he endured the slow chant and the slow bounce until the blonde said, “Now!” and the girl above him tilted back her head and groaned out in orgasm. For the fifth time, it felt as if gallons of cum spurted out of his prickThis was to repeat eight more times. David would become hard. The girl would mount him or suck him or force him to eat her and he would cry out in torment until the High Priestess said, “Now!” Then his prick would gush forth with gallons of cum.Finally, the blonde High Priestess again climbed up onto the altar. “This is the last time,” she said as she centered herself over his prick. The chant began and her slow bounce started. It seemed to go on forever– longer than ever before. David felt himself becoming stiffer and stiffer and stiffer. His balls seemed. Did she fight against her enslavement, knowing that she was being forced to obey but unable to resist the pure, addicting pleasure of obedience? Or did everything seem perfectly natural, totally normal by the time the Controller had reshaped her brain into an obedient slavegirl? It didn’t matter. The important thing was that she had been utterly broken to the Controller’s will. And today, she would be broken even of the memory of disobedience. Her cell phone rang, playing a tune that she only heard as, ‘You can trance if you want to, you can leave your friends behind…’ She knew those weren’t the words that other people heard as she walked past them, but she was no longer capable of hearing the real words, let along remembering them. The Controller loved to play with her perceptions. Sometimes she went out in public believing herself to be naked, or wearing a latex slavesuit. She probably wasn’t, but she was utterly unable to perceive herself as anything other than what the Controller.
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