Mia half smiled as she stood in the expansive living room of her former home. She was on display, her body tight and toned, her hair and makeup done up to the nines, and her tits sticking out proudly.
Six months ago she would have been spread out on the couch, in a pair of comfy jammies, at this time in the morning on a Saturday. But instead she’d already been up for hours, having visited the gym, spent time getting ready, and picking out the perfect lingerie for his arrival.
That was perhaps the worst part of it being he former home. Not only had he made her sell it to him for a fraction of it’s value, he didn’t even live in it!
Instead she was a live in servant, and most times the only person in the house. Each day was the same; get up, work out, make herself presentable, go on display for a few hours, clean for a few hours, eat lunch, make herself presentable again, go on display again, do any errands she needed to, work out again, eat dinner, finish her cores and then go on display until she finally was able to go to bed.
She only had a half smile on her face at the moment because she was physically unable to form a frown, it was the only small rebellion she could muster and so she did it every chance she got.
But even with that small victory, she still stood there, waiting. And waiting. And waiting.
She never knew if he would show up that day or not. He never let her know he was coming, instead just walking in the front door and expecting her to be there. Which she always was.
The waiting did give her lots of time to think though. Thing about things like if it would be better for him to come that day, or every day, or to never come again?
Each had it’s pro’s and cons.
As much as she hated every minute of her life and him, even she had to admit that the time he was there, his cock buried in any one of her orifices, his cum in or on her body, was indescribably blissful. Her orgasms were long and intense and for a while afterwards, her mind empty and serene. But of course it never lasted and he left every time.
Having that just once was more than enough to want it again and again. And so having him come each day seemed like a logical thing to want. But that had it’s own downsides. As much as it relieved the boredom, hate, and despair, it also was dangerous. He’d come three days in a row once and she’d almost lost her mind, being little more than a giggling bimbo slut begging him to stay when he finally left. She knew the “she” that she was would never survive past a week or so of that kind of pleasure.
And then there was the idea that maybe he just would never come back again, period. Perhaps he would find someone else to torture, someone who caught his eye and could hold it until he forgot all about her. This would of course end the humiliating sex, the degrading behaviour she performed each time he was there, but… but it would also take away the pleasure.
Even since the first time he’d fucked her she’d know something had changed inside of her. The intense orgasm, unlike anything she’d ever experienced before, couldn’t be denied and she knew deep down even then that she craved another one.
The idea of living without another one of those orgasms seemed like sacrilege.
All three of those ideas would circle around in her mind, fighting for dominance each day as she was on display. But then there was another thought that disturbed her to no end.
Were any of those ideas even hers? Or, like so much of her mind, had he altered and twisted those ideas to his own whims?
She still had no idea how he’d done it, he’d just walked right in to her home on day and reached in to her mind with his power and altered it.
She could still remember who she had been, the wealthy CEO of a high tech startup, but after his first visit, that was no longer who she was. Like she had once owned her house, she had become owned property. She didn’t question it, it was simply a fact.
He’d done other things to her mind as well that day, some of them she could ‘feel’, but some she only suspected. She knew he’d placed in her the daily schedule she followed. She knew he’d placed in her the need for breast implants.
But there were other things she could only suspect. Things like the overpowering orgasms. Did he twist her mind in to having them or was it just a natural reaction to being so completely dominated and controlled?
It was impossible to tell, she couldn’t trust her own mind.
Her thoughts swirled around for a bit longer, until finally she heard the door knob on the front door start to twist open. Instantly her mind cleared, her half smile disappeared to be replaced with broad genuine one, her nipples hardened and her pussy moistened.
Today he was here. If he would come again tomorrow, or never show up again no longer mattered. She would no longer be on display, she would be used like all good property deserved to be.