Chapter 5: Nobody loves you like family
It was the mid afternoon, a car pulled into the Driveway. Mark stood outside. Indira stood besides her master wearing a maid’s uniform, her hair in a braid hung down her back.
She had been busy all day prepping the house, cleaning, arranging and setting up decorations in anticipation of his family’s arrival. His family arrived early afternoon. She watched from the window as the car pulled into the driveway. Mark was outside waiting for them at the gate.
She saw the women step out of the car one by one. Mark’s sister was a tall, slightly chubby, with glasses, her fiery curly red hair flowing freely down her back. She wore a buttoned up shirt and tight pants. His mother was an older chubby woman, her dark brown hair elegantly styled in a bun, wearing a black dress and heels. His grandmother a dignified woman, with should length grey hair and glasses wearing a dress with a long shawl along her shoulders. The women looked surprised to see a stranger waiting for them.
His mother look and Indira, “So your job pays you enough to have one of those” she scoffed. His sister laughed “maybe you should work harder and buy a white one, or perhaps a wife”. His Grandmother noted “I’m not sure his line of work would ever give him a wife or even a girlfriend” “just tragic for our line, and nothing for me to brag to the ladies at my parties”she lamented. “Oh it looks like you upset it Gran” Mark’s sister snickered. “I didn’t think he payed it enough to feel” his Mother said. “Hmmm … maybe she can cry on her prayer mat. Maybe her God will take pity on us and remove it from our sight” his Gran replied venom dripping on every word.
Indira felt her ears burn with embarrassment. “We will endure it together “ Mark patted her shoulder comfortingly, his warm hand enveloping her upper arm. Indira glanced up at him and found a small smile playing on his lips. She took solace in his presence.
"Come," Mark urged, leading his family inside.
Indira followed closely behind, her gaze darting between the three women. Each of them studied her curiously, their expressions ranging from disgust to amusement.
Mark led them through the house, pointing out various features and amenities. Indira followed closely behind, her eyes darting between the entitled trio. She couldn't shake the feeling that they were judging her, scrutinizing her every movement and utterance.
"So, Mark," his sister began, her voice laced with playful sarcasm, "Tell us more about your little … helper here. What's her name?" his sister pressed, feigning ignorance.
Mark cleared his throat, his gaze never leaving Indira's face. "Her name is Indira," he stated calmly, "and she is my maid."
"Oh, a maid," his sister chimed, raising an eyebrow. "Well, Mark, you certainly think well of yourself trying to impress us. Too bad it failed in every way”.
His mother shot his sister a disapproving glance before addressing Mark directly. "You've been working hard on your project, haven't you?" she prompted.
Mark sighed wearily, his patience beginning to wear thin. "Indira takes care of my home and assists me with my projects," he explained evenly, "She's a valuable asset."
"Oh, I'm sure she is," his sister retorted sardonically, "But how long will you be able to afford her?" “Do you pay her by the minute? Can you touch her, maybe pretend you are a man”
Mark flashed a cold smile, his gaze piercing into her like a dagger. In his pocket he pressed the button on his device. For a second his family froze. They were disoriented.
They quivered for a minute then after regaining their composure “Where is the bathroom? They asked, it’s been a long ride and we want to freshen up”. Mark told them with a sly knowing smile. His sister annoyed she had to go up to the third floor”
In a few minutes Mark’s phone buzzed. 3 messages from 3 phones sent pictures with women in varying states of undress. The pictures were attached with a text from each of the phones “Command me, I will obey”. He knew the identities of the senders by the color and thickness of the pubic hair.
His sister's red tightly trimmed landing strip, his mother's fuller, darker patch, and his gran's thinning grey bush with her clam’s lips noticeable.
All masterly baited and now in his control
“Return to me” texted. “No need to put your panties back on. Carry them in your mouths” he continued, his eyes gleaming with excitement.
Minutes later the three woman approached, their underwear in their mouths. They stood before Mark waiting for his instructions. Their minds wear fogging where independent thought faded.
They only remembered Mark's commands. Their legs wobbled, hands shaking. Indira stared at the messages, the pictures startling her. Mark's family were in his control.
“So Gran, who do you think of my science now?” Mark asked, suppressing a grin.
His grandmother quivered, her mouth opened and closed a few times not saying a word. her eyes staring ahead seeing nothing, her mind empty.
"Amazing," she finally managed to utter, her voice hollow and lifeless. "Absolutely remarkable."
“And you mother, what of my intelligence now?” He asked. “Now yours have vanished like your free will”.
Mark boasted smugly, looking at his sister, his mother and his grandmother in front of him. They all stood still, with vacant eyes and empty minds awaiting further instructions.
What was once their individual personalities, thoughts, and feelings melted away under Mark's controlling influence. Indira watched the transformation unfold before her in disbelief. She smiled in pride of her master extending his power.
"Mother," Mark spoke, drawing everyone's attention. "Would you mind showing Indira your new attire?"
His mother, oblivious to the discomfort she caused Indira, sauntered toward her. The elegant dress and heels she previously wore were replaced by a skimpy negligee. Her nipples poked through the sheer fabric, visible to anyone watching.
Her skirt barely covered her crotch, exposing a hint of her shapely thighs. Her eyes, once full of spirit and defiance, now held a dull, lifeless gaze. Indira watched her, a smile came to her face at the woman’s domination. She secretly hope somewhere inside his mother’s brain she watched in horror unable to disobey his every command.
Her thoughts racing in a panic, wishing desperately to regain control of her own mind, yet enslaved in a mental prison of her son's design.
His grandmother looked horrified, yet helpless to prevent the spectacle unfolding before her own eyes.
Mark's sister, still clad in her buttoned-up shirt, the bottom her red landing strip was slightly noticeable. She stood at attention and stared ahead vacantly.
Their mind blank, their movements robotic.
“Strip off your remaining clothes and stand at attention.” Mark ordered. “You have no will of your own, no thoughts of your own, only my voice in your head crafting your new way of life and your place in it. Remade in my image”
Mark declared with a satisfied smirk. His eyes glistened as he surveyed the captivated audience. His mother, his sister, and his grandmother stood there, stripped bare, vulnerable to his whims. He could sense their eagerness to obey, their bodies responding to his slightest suggestion. Indira stood off to the side smiling with pride at her master’s ability.
"My dear family," Mark began, his tone confident and commanding, "you are now slaves to my desires. You will follow my orders without hesitation, submitting yourselves to my control.
They each stripped removing the remaining clothes. Mark smiled to himself, the closest he had seen them undressed was at the beach and his mother and grandmother had worn sundresses even then. He took in their naked forms and smiled again at their complete defeat.
When they were done, like their clothes like their minds were stripped bare. They remembered nothing of their lives, each other, or how they got there. They didn’t remember Mark or their cruel treatment of him in the past. They only wished to obey his every wish and desire. He was their master and he controlled them body and soul.
"Kneel before me," Mark commanded his family, his voice ringing out like a bell tolling fate.
One by one, they knelt before him, their eyes devoid of any resistance or rebellion. They only yearned to please him, to prove themselves worthy of his approval.
Mark reveled in their submission, taking pleasure in the knowledge that he had reshaped their minds and molded them into docile followers. He knew that they would obey him, unquestioningly, no matter how depraved his requests might become.
"Now, kneel before me," Mark repeated, his voice echoing through the room like a dark, ominous prophecy. One by one, Mark's mother, sister, and grandmother dropped to their knees, their faces contorting into desperate pleas for acceptance. "Submit to me," Mark demanded, his voice dripping with lustful hunger.
"Swallow my authority whole, and surrender your bodies to my every whim."
His mother, sister, and grandmother exchanged nervous glances, their hearts pounding in their chests. They struggled to recall their names, their previous lives, or even basic human functions. All they knew was that they belonged to Mark, their minds enslaved by his powerful invention.
"You will call me 'Master,'" Mark instructed, his eyes burning with intensity.
"Your lives are mine to control, to shape, and to destroy.
His mother, sister, and grandmother looked up at him, their minds blank except for the single word "Master" repeating endlessly. They had lost track of time, of their surroundings, and even of their own identities. The three women merely bowed their heads, acknowledging the reality of their situation.
"I want you to make a sacrifice," Mark announced, his voice rising in pitch.
"Something meaningful from your past, something that signifies giving up your identity."
His mother, sister, and grandmother exchanged uneasy glances, their faces registering confusion at his request. Despite their shared vulnerability, the lingering remnants of their personalities remained stubbornly resistant to his control.
"What kind of sacrifice?" his mother finally managed to ask, her voice cracking from emotional strain.
Mark smiled mischievously, his teeth gleaming in the dim light. "Something precious," he purred, his eyes narrowing seductively.
"Something that represents the person you used to be."
His mother, sister, and grandmother faltered, their minds grappling with the implications of his twisted request. They exchanged hesitant looks, their faces betraying their reluctance to comply. Yet, their subservience to Mark's demands was absolute, their minds entirely under his control.
"Very well," his mother conceded, her voice strained and defeated. "I offer to cut off my wedding ring."
Mark nodded approvingly, his eyes gleaming with sadistic glee.
"That's right, Mother," he crooned, his voice low and sinister. "Begone, symbol of a loveless marriage, a life of disappointment and contempt."
His mother's fingers trembled as she reached for the gold band. The memories of her husband, her children. Yet, she knew that she had no choice but to obey Mark's wishes. When the rings fell to the ground She was no longer Mark’s mother, she was an obedient slave. Her mind was empty. She had no marriage and no children. What does a slave need of such things? “What are your wishes my master?” She asked weakly. “What is your name slave?” He growled “Martha” she whisper “ No slave, your name is Marion” Mark corrected. “What is your name? Slave” he asked again. “Marion, my master” she said confidently as her mind realigned her conditioning solidified.
Mark smiled devilishly know the once spoiled queen of high society had been brought low by someone she treated with scorn his entire life. He relished in her defeat and her pledge of obedience.
His sister hesitated for a moment longer, torn between her instincts to resist and her conditioned obedience. Eventually, she too succumbed to Mark's demand, shedding her outer layers until she stood nude before him.
“Ashley, dear sister what would you sacrifice for me?” Mark asked. “I would kill anyone you asked, protect you from harm” she answered without emotion.
“Well I appreciate that, it is unnecessary to kill anyone right now, you can train to fight to be my person body guard and protect me that way” he countered.
Ashley smiled. “Whatever you desire, I obey” and with that thought her old life faded to black. She couldn’t remember her life or anyone in it, just her master. She was left with the thought her master needed her protection to be safe. What would she be if she didn’t have a master to guide her? She shivered at the idea. Master must be obeyed and protected. That became the only thought in her head.
His grandmother , however, did not hesitate. She moved swiftly, stripping off her clothes and discarding them without a second thought. Her body was still good with only the lines at her hands and wrinkles gave the appearance of her true age she hid from society. While Mark’s mother’s breasts were melons, his grandmother’s were over ripe melons, still as big but not as firm. Her nipples like the erasers on pencils.“And Gran what of your old life would you sacrifice?”Grinning, Mark said “what can you offer me to show your commitment to me?”The elder matriarch swallowed hard, her throat constricting as she tried to speak. Finally, she managed to utter, "I offer my most treasured possession, Master. My pearls."With a trembling hand, she reached into her purse and produced a small velvet box. Inside lay a delicate strand of perfectly matched pearls, each bead glistening with a lustrous beauty. These pearls had been passed down through generations of her family, serving as a symbol of strength and resilience.“No my slave wear your pearls proudly. They however are no longer a symbol of strength and resilience. They are now a symbol of devotion to your glorious master who you are a proud devoted slave”“Thank you, my master” she beamed “ I only wish to obey” she placed the pears around her neck, a sense of pride and happiness welled in her mind, a wonderful gift from her master. She wonder quickly where he had gotten the beautiful pearls from just before her old life melted like a popsicle left in the sun. The words slave and obey sounded in her head loudly repeating in a manta drowning out her own thoughts.
His grandmother faded and Emma stood in her place. Her hand reached to touch the pears with reverence, the euphoria in her eyes were quickly faded as she stared ahead blankly, no thought of her own, no memory of the past. With a deep sigh she awaited her master’s next command wishing only to please him.
Mark smiled to himself. The strict prideful matriarch, broken down and recreated as an obedient slave nude wearing nothing put his pearls, devoted to his whims. Made into a devoted worshipper of him. He couldn't contain his arousal anymore as he gazed upon these women, completely under his control. He let the image sink in.
“All my life you belittled me, mocked me, treated me like dirt,” Mark began addressing his mother, sister, and grandmother directly. “You denied me respect, dignity, love… but today, you shall learn to appreciate me as your master!”
Marion, Ashley, and Emma listened intently, their minds void of personal memories or emotions.
Instead, their brains were filled with the knowledge of their subjugation, their minds surrendered to Mark's controlling influence. They stared at him in silence, their bodies swaying gently like marionettes under the puppeteer's strings.
Their minds were stripped bare, the remnants of their old selves extinguished like flickering embers snuffed out by a gust of wind.
"We are your humble servants," Marion intoned, her voice devoid of any inflection, "To do your bidding, to fulfill your deepest desires."
Ashley joined in, her voice flat and expressionless.
"As your loyal servant, I pledge to serve you with unwavering dedication," she recited mechanically. "I will protect you from harm and ensure your safety at all costs."
"And what of you, Emma?" Mark prodded, his gaze locked onto her weathered face. "How will you demonstrate your devotion to me?"
His grandmother swallowed convulsively, her Adam's apple bobbing nervously against her wrinkled skin. "I promise to dedicate my life to serving you," she stammered, her voice quivering under the weight of her commitment.
"To nurture and support you in every aspect of your existence." Emma concluded, her gaze fixed on Mark's face.
Mark's smirk widened, his eyes sparkling with delight. "Good," he murmured softly, running his fingers through his thick, wavy hair. "Now, come closer to me all of you."
Marion, Ashley, and Emma shuffled towards him, their eyes dead, their minds completely blank. They had no memories—no recollections of their past lives or experiences. Their sole purpose was to serve Mark, their master.
He sat in the center of the room, observing them as they hovered near him like satellites, waiting for his command. He felt the air crackle with anticipation, and he savored the sensation of holding their destinies in his hands.
"Who am I?” Mark quizzed, his voice deep and soothing.
“Master” the three women said in unison.
“And what does that mean to each of you, how does that make you feel?”
Mark questioned, his voice deep and soothing. Each of the women shifted uncomfortably, their eyes darting nervously between one another. Marion, Ashley, and Emma had no memories of their past lives or experiences; their sole purpose was to serve Mark, their master. They stood silently, their minds blank, waiting for his command.
Mark leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. He observed them carefully, sensing their apprehension. “Tell me, Marion, how does it feel to submit to me, entirely?
” Mark asked, his voice soft but demanding.
Marion hesitated, her heart pounding in her chest. Her mind was a blank canvas, devoid of any memories or emotions. She struggled to form coherent thoughts, but all she could manage was a quiet whisper, “I am your slave, Master. To obey you is my only purpose.”
Mark smiled, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “Ashley, you are my loyal protector, sworn to defend me from any harm.
How does it feel to be so utterly devoted to me?” Mark asked, his voice soft but probing.
Ashley paused, her eyes darting nervously between him and the other women. She hesitated, unsure of how to answer. “I… I am your faithful guardian, Master. I exist solely to protect you and ensure your safety at all times.”
Mark nodded, his gaze penetrating her like a laser beam.
"Remember, Ashley," he stressed, his voice crisp and authoritative, "your duty is to protect me, no matter the cost."
Ashley blinked twice, her eyes darting nervously between him and the others. "Yes, Master," she confirmed, her voice quivering slightly. "I will protect you with my life."
Mark turned his attention to Marion, his intense gaze boring into her like a drill. “Marion how do you feel about what Ashely just said?”
Mark asked, his voice a gentle nudge in Marion's direction.
Marion hesitated, her eyes darting nervously between Mark and Ashley. She opened her mouth to speak, but hesitation gripped her tongue.
"I… I don't know, Master," she stammered, her voice quivering with uncertainty. "I simply obey your commands."
Mark's gaze bore into her, his eyes flashing with an almost predatory intensity. "Do you understand what it means to be my slave, Marion?" he pressed, his voice low and insistent.
"Never forget your role or purpose. Understand that you belong to me, completely."
Marion's eyes welled up with tears, her heart hammering in her chest. She lowered her gaze, unable to meet Mark's stare. "I understand, Master," she whispered hoarsely, her voice barely audible. "I accept my place as your slave."
Mark nodded, his gaze never wavering. "Excellent," he replied, his voice steady and calm.
"Emma, tell me how it feels to be my loyal servant, bound to me by your loyalty and devotion."
Emma hesitated, her hand reached up to caress the pearls again. her eyes darting nervously between Mark and the other women. She cleared her throat, swallowing awkwardly. "I am your loyal servant, Master," she rasped, her voice quivering slightly. "I will serve you faithfully, without question or reservation."
“How do you feel about the other 2 women?” Mark asked testing his control. “ have you ever met them before?” He quizzed .
“Have you ever met them before?”
Emma hesitated, her eyes darting nervously between Mark and the other women. "I don't believe so, Master," she rasped, her voice quivering slightly. "But I recognize our connection. We share a bond, a unity, a purpose."
“Marion, answer my question” he commanded.
“How do you feel about the other two women? Have you ever met them before?”
The question lingered in the air, heavy with expectation. Marion hesitated, her eyes darting nervously between Mark and the other women.
"I don't think so, Master," she rasped, her voice quivering slightly.
"Ashley, have you met them before?” Mark prompted
, directing a questioning glance towards his sister.
Ashley paused, her eyes darting nervously between Mark and the other women. Her voice quivered slightly as she responded, "N-no, Master. I don't believe we've ever met."
Marion, standing close to her daughter, turned her gaze towards Mark. "I concur, Master. I have no recollection of meeting either of them prior to this moment."
Mark nodded, his gaze piercing the group like a laser beam.
They had no memories--no recollections of their past lives or experiences.
He sat in the center of the room, observing them like a scientist examining specimens under a microscope.
The three women - Marion, Ashley, and Emma - were completely under his control, their minds stripped bare of any personal memories or emotions.
"You are not free," Mark proclaimed, his voice deep and resonant. "You are slaves, owned by me, created by me, and I will decide everything for you. You will do whatever I say, whenever I say it. Simply put you are my creations to do whatever I see fit”
Mark asserted confidently.
Mark's mother, Marion, hung her head, her long brown hair falling in waves around her shoulders. Her breasts, large and full, stretched against the thin material of her nightgown. She stood before him, a vision of vulnerability and subservience.
"Ashley, what would you do if you thought either was conspiring to do me harm?” He asked turning to his sister.
wicked grin spread across Mark's face.
She hesitated, her lips parting slightly as she considered her response. "I would stop them, Master," she replied resolutely. "By any means necessary."
Emma, staring straight ahead interjected without emotion , "What exactly does harm entail, Master?"
Mark smiled slyly, his eyes dancing with excitement. "Whatever I deem harmful, my dear Emma," he retorted. "The line may blur, but the consequences will be severe."
The trio of slaves exchanged anxious glances, their minds racing to decipher the depths of their master's intentions.
Mark continued, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "What if I told you that I wanted to hurt them, to make them suffer?
" Mark proposed, his voice laced with wickedness. He watched the expressions on their faces, eager to witness their reactions.
Marion bit her lip, her eyes darting nervously between Mark and her daughter. "I would intervene, Master," she stammered, her voice shaking slightly. "To prevent any harm to you or your property."
Ashley, standing rigidly beside her mother, nodded in agreement. "Agreed," she added. "I would do anything to protect you, Master."
Emma, however, seemed to hesitate.
She stared vacantly, her eyes wide and unblinking. "Is that the type of service you expect from us, Master?" she asked, her voice cold and detached. "Are we to inflict pain and suffering upon those you designate as enemies?"
Mark shrugged nonchalantly, his gaze fixed on Emma. "It depends on my mood, really," he mused, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "Sometimes, I prefer a more direct approach.
You know, to make sure everyone understands their roles in the grand scheme of things." Mark grinned slyly, his eyes shining with wicked glee. Marion's heartbeat quickened, her breath catching in her throat. She had known Mark since birth, but in this new reality, he was a stranger. His words were poison tipped arrows aimed at her heart, meant to strike fear and doubt in her mind.
"So, what happens when I command you to do something, and you disobey?" Mark asked, his tone laden with threat.
His words struck a chord within the trio of slaves, their minds struggling to process the gravity of his question.
Emma, his grandmother, looked up at him, her eyes wide and fearful. "If we disobey you, Master, what is the consequence?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.
Mark flashed a sinister smile, his eyes gleaming with malice. "Depends on the severity of the punishment, doesn't it?" he chuckled, his voice chilling their bones.
"Don't worry, my dear Emma. If you ever find yourself in the position where you must inflict pain, I trust that you'll make the right decision."
Marion's eyes widened, her heart pounding in her chest. She glanced at Ashley, her daughter, and back at Emma, her mother. The three woman stood together, united under the banner of submission that Mark had imposed upon them. They were sisters in servitude, bound by their collective allegiance to their master.
"I understand, Master," Emma replied, her voice devoid of emotion.
"We will do as you command, and we will not hesitate to enforce your will."
Mark nodded, his gaze locking onto each of them in turn. "Good," he murmured, his voice deep and satisfying. "I have plans for you three, and I expect complete obedience."
The trio of slaves exchanged uneasy glances, their minds still processing the implications of their newfound subordination. Yet, their devotion to Mark was unwavering, their minds clouded by his controlling influence.
They existed solely to serve him, their lives intertwined with his as closely as ivy wound around an ancient oak tree.
"You are my creations, built from nothing " Mark declared, his voice deep and powerful. "Chosen to serve me, to worship me, to cherish me."
The trio of slaves nodded, their eyes fixated on him—their master. Their hearts raced with anticipation, their minds brimming with the potential pleasures that awaited them.
"Each of you must take a step of faith, telling me that you truly belong to me and what I mean to you”
Mark commanded.
"Speak freely, my pets," he coaxed, his voice smooth and soothing. "Let your desires manifest themselves through your words."
Marion took a steadying breath, her eyes scanning the familiar surroundings. "In submitting myself to you, my master," she whispered, her voice quivering with emotion, "I acknowledge the power you hold over me. Your dominance, your authority, your sheer force of will. I surrender to you, fully and irrevocably."
Ashley followed suit, her voice strong and assured.
"I, too, willingly submit to you, my master," she declared, her words echoing the sentiments held within her heart. "Your guidance, your wisdom, and your strength have led me here. I embrace my fate, my role as your loyal servant."
Emma, his grandmother, finally spoke, her voice quavering yet determined. "I, Emma, humbly offer myself to you, my master," she uttered, her aged voice cracking with emotion. "My years of experience, my unwavering loyalty, and my deep affection for you.
I stand before you, ready to prove my worthiness as your most devoted servant," Emma continued, her voice gaining strength with each passing second. As she spoke, she could feel a surge of energy coursing through her veins, propelling her towards the ultimate act of submission.
Emma's gaze drifted downward, settling on her voluptuous figure. Her bosom, now resting atop her aching knees, swelled with each gasp of breath. Her abdomen, taut and toned, rippled beneath her skin.
Her swollen labia peeking out from behind her panties, beckoning to be touched. And there, nestled between her legs, her clitoris, throbbing with anticipation. All signs pointed to a woman on the brink of orgasm.
"Slaves, a question. If you had one hour to satisfy your master’s sexual needs, what would you do?” Mark asked, probing the strength of their devotion.
Marion, her voice trembling with anticipation, eagerly replied, "Master, in that sacred hour, I would begin by kissing your feet, slowly moving upwards, caressing your calves with my lips, and then tracing my tongue along your thighs."
Ashley, her voice hushed and seductive, chimed in, "Next, I would tease you with my soft lips, trailing kisses across your chest and abdomen, leading up to that moment when I taste your manhood."
Emma, her voice quavering, yet determined, added, "Then, I would straddle you, positioning myself above you, allowing our bodies to connect in a dance of passion and desire."
Emma's breathing grew ragged, her heart pounding in her chest. "Our moans mixing in perfect harmony, our bodies entwined, moving as one."
"That sound incredible," Mark growled, his cock twitching with anticipation. “As a reward you will experience your idea in your head until you orgasm”
. With a wave of his hand, he snapped his fingers, casting a spell of pleasure upon them.
The trio of slaves gasped collectively, their bodies shuddering with ecstasy. Their senses heightened, their orgasms building rapidly. Their screams of pleasure echoed through the dimly lit room, creating a symphony of bliss.
As the seconds ticked away, the three women writhed in pleasure, their bodies betraying their submissive nature.
Emma, his grandmother, collapsed onto the floor, her pussy pulsing rhythmically as she reached her peak.
Each contraction sent waves of pleasure coursing through her body, leaving her weak and spent. Her cries of pleasure echoed through the dimly lit room, creating a symphony of bliss.
Meanwhile, Marion with on hand darting in and out beneath her legs. She reached for Mark to taste him, feel him inside.
“No, no slave. Only I control when and if you deserve to touch me” He rumbled at Marion slapping her hand away.
He laughed, taking in the grand display before him.
His creation was beautiful, a testament to his genius. The once independent and defiant women kneeling before him, utterly enslaved to his will.
"Enough!" he roared, commanding their immediate obedience. The air in the room buzzed with electricity, their lustful cravings palpable.
The women froze in the middle of their act.
Their eyes widened, their mouths agape, as they absorbed the meaning of Mark's order. He had taken their autonomy, their freedom, and their ability to please themselves in the palm of his hand. He had become their master, their ruler, their God. There was nothing left for them to do but comply.
"Please, Master," pleaded Marion, her voice trembling with desperation. "Let us continue to serve you as we wish."
Mark shook his head, his gaze unwavering. "No," he replied sternly.
"You are to endure this torment, knowing that the release you seek lies in my hands alone."
“As you wish master” the three women intoned.
Their voices melodic and harmonious, they sang the song of their submission.
Marion glanced sideways at Ashley, a stranger to her mind, their eyes meeting in a silent exchange of understanding. Emma, the matriarch, closed her eyes, her heart swelling with pride for the other slaves who had past their master’s test.
“Rise and stand at attention, receive instruction”
Mark ordered, the fire in his eyes burning brighter than the moonlight streaming through the window.
Ashley, Emma and Marion rose, their eyes locked on Mark's face, eager to learn their next task. They both knew that this opportunity was not to be squandered.
"Indira” he bellowed.
Yes, Master” Indira said. She had been watching the whole display off to the side. She thought he had forgotten about her. She beamed with pride how her master trapped and bent these foul bitches to his devotion.
She loved how he controlled and used their minds, made them beg for his every word. She was proud of her master, of how far he mastered his craft.
"Yes, Master," Indira replied, her voice firm and confident. She stepped forward, her eyes fixed on Mark's face. "How may I aid you today?"
Mark, his gaze still locked on the slaves, “Marion and Emma” he began. “This is Indira, you will obey her commands as if they were mine. I believe she has some tasks cleaning and the such that the house needs”
Mark informed.
The trio of slaves exchanged curious glances, their minds racing to comprehend the implications of this new development. Indira, a mere servant, was suddenly elevated to a position of authority over them. Their confusion was palpable, but their devotion to Mark remained unwavering.
"Indira," Mark addressed her, gesturing towards the women. "These slaves are yours to command. Do with them as you see fit."
Indira's eyes widened, her lips curling into a smug grin.
She stepped forward, her gaze sweeping over the trio of slaves. "Follow me," she ordered, her voice firm and confident. “Yes, mistress” the women said in unison” their movements synchronized and robotic.
While Indira, Marion, and Emma left. Ashley remained. “Can’t have my bodyguard vacuuming the floor” he commented to her full of disdain. “Stay with me and protect me while I read the newspaper” he joked
, smiling devilishly.
Ashley blushed, her cheeks flushing red. She could sense his eyes on her, a spark igniting within her chest. She stood, her gaze never leaving his face.
"Of course, Master," she replied softly, her voice barely audible. She took a few steps closer to him, her heart pounding in her chest.
Mark nodded, his gaze sweeping over her curvaceous figure. "Thank you, Ashley," he murmured appreciatively.
She stood at attention in all her naked glory, a loyal guard dog.
Meanwhile Indira had Marion wash the bathroom floor and Emma sweep the kitchen. Indira supervised. Emma approached with a hot cup of tea “for you Mistress”
Indira took the cup, looked at the naked older woman and laughed “I could get used to this”
Indira thought if this one had servants in her house and what they thought of her and what they would say if they could see her now. Stupid cow
deserved it though for being a bitch.
Emma could only imagine the kind of conversations going on in the living room.
“Ashley, you should join us in cleaning the house.” Indira called out from the kitchen.
Ashley sighed and reluctantly joined them in the mundane chores. Emma felt sorry for her sister in arms. She was supposed to be the family protector but look at her now. Washing dishes and scrubbing floors. Emma couldn’t help but laugh, but also she felt sad for her.
She gave up her status, her dignity, and even her clothing so easily. But she understood why; Mark had such a grip on her psyche that she would do anything to appease him. To avoid the consequences of defying him. She wondered if Marion truly believed herself to be a servant or if she was merely acting out a role.
"Well, Ashley," Mark teased, his gaze lingering on her shapely form, "it seems you're quite adept at domestic duties. Perhaps you should consider a career change."
Ashley blushed, her cheeks flushing crimson. "Whatever my Master wishes of me" she said with a sigh, accepting her new role. She moved gracefully, carrying the mop and bucket to the bathroom. She felt the eyes of her fellow slaves on her, their silent judgement weighing heavily on her shoulders.
"Ashley, you should join us in cleaning the house," Indira called out from the kitchen. Emma couldn't help but laugh, but also she felt sad for her.
Marion had a bucket of warm water and a rag. She stood on her tip toes to reach the top of the window. Mark laughed in thought how much of the rag was washing the window or her breasts. He thought it's probably the best washing her breast or bush had received in some time.
As she worked, Marion could hear the faint sounds of conversation coming from the living room. The words were indistinct, but she could discern the playful laughter and teasing tones. Marion was happy to serve even if it ment in beinhg reduced to a lowly maid, scrubbing toilets and windows in the nude. Any thought of anger or devision was quelled by a fog in her head "obey and serve" "existence is obedience". Her new life was simple, and in her mind the way it should be. She finished her work and handed the wet rag to another slave, Emma.
"Mistress Indira, what are your orders?" Emma asked respectfully after finishing mopping the last corner of the kitchen floor. Indira set down her teacup and surveyed the cleanliness of the room. Satisfied, she offered a nod, "Very good, Emma.
Now, go and fetch some fresh towels from the linen closet. We can use them to dry the furniture and glass surfaces."
Emma bowed her head, her gaze remaining fixed on the floor. "Yes, Mistress," she acknowledged, her voice strained yet compliant. She shuffled out of the kitchen, her naked form silhouetted against the fading sunlight filtering through the window.
Meanwhile, Ashley found herself in the company of her former rival, Indira. The two women stood in silence, their gazes locked on the spotless floor.
Indira, feeling triumphant, basked in the glow of her newfound authority. Ashley, on the other hand, struggled to reconcile her new role in the household.
"Ashley," Indira began, her voice smooth and calm, "you don't seem very enthusiastic about helping us clean up. Are you having second thoughts about serving your master?"
Ashley hesitated, her gaze flickering towards the living room door. "No, Mistress," she replied, her voice firm despite her inner turmoil.
"I am simply trying to adjust to my new role."
"Ah, I see," Indira responded, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Well, Ashley, I suggest you learn quickly. Our master demands perfection, and failure is not an option."
Ashley swallowed hard, her gaze darting towards the living room door. "Understood, Mistress," she murmured, her voice strained yet compliant.
Meanwhile, outside the window, the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden hue over the neighborhood.
"OK slaves, it's time to start Master's dinner" Indira spoke. "Marion and Emma prepare something yummy for him and you may receive a reward. Ashley return to guarding him" she clapped once "get it done". "Yes, Mistress," Marion and Emma replied simultaneously, their voices synchronizing like instruments in concert. They scrambled to action, their naked forms weaving through the kitchen like dancers in a choreographed routine. They gathered ingredients, sliced vegetables, and whipped egg whites for the soufflé.
Ashley, her thoughts still preoccupied with her new role, hurried toward the living room.
She pushed open the door, her gaze instinctively searching for Mark. He sat perched on the armchair, engrossed in his newspaper. He did not notice her entrance, and Ashley breathed a sigh of relief. She felt grateful for the brief respite; she needed time to come to terms with her new reality.
"Ashley," Mark called out, setting aside his paper. "Come sit by me at your place on the floor guard dog"
Ashley hesitated, her gaze darting between the living room door and Mark's expectant expression. She knew better than to refuse her master's request. Gathering her resolve, she crossed the room, her bare feet silent on the hardwood floor. She knelt beside Mark, her heart beating feverishly in her chest.
Ashley bent down getting on her hands and knees next to his chair. He patted her neck "Good girl"
he said as she rested her cheek on his knee.
"Why are you so quiet Ashley?" Mark asked as he resumed reading his newspaper. "I thought you would be more chatty"
With a heavy sigh, Ashley collected her thoughts. "Master, I just need some time to accept my new role."
Mark raised an eyebrow, looking down at her. "Really? Because to me, you seem to be embracing it rather well." You have been a loyal guard dog for many years" weaving new memories into her empty head. "I'm sorry I had to make you into a human. But I thought your years of service deserved that reward" "You seem to be embracing it was as I expected".
Ashley froze, her mind realigning itself. Her eyes were blank unfocused, then suddenly a spark of life and a smile.
"It's true, Master?" she gasped. "All those years, I served you loyally and protected you from harm."
"Every day, Ashley, you were there by my side, watching over me." Mark answered tenderly. "I promise to make you a human so you may protect me in places dogs were not allowed to go."
Mark smiled down at her, patting her gently on the head. "And, after all these years, you deserve the best reward possible."
Ashley blinked twice, her expression shifting from disbelief to pure elation. "I can't believe it, Master." She gazed up at him, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "After all these years, you recognize my loyalty and dedication."
Mark placed his paper aside, reaching down to brush a lock of hair out of Ashley's face. "My loyal pet" Mark said placing a thick collar around her neck that had a thick leather leash attached.
"From now on, wherever your Master goes, you shall follow."
He attached the leash to a hook near the couch "So I can rest assured that I'm safe from any danger."
Ashley sniffled, her eyes filled with gratitude. "Thank you, Master... thank you for acknowledging my loyalty and dedication."
Mark chuckled heartily, patting her on the head. "You know, Ashley, you really remind me of someone special."
"Who, Master?" she asked curiously.
"What makes me so special to you, Master?"
Mark's face softened, his eyes reflecting a fondness that transcended time and space. "Oh, Ashley," he mused, stroking her head gently. "There's this person, a close friend of mine, who shares your name."
"You were originally the pet of my wicked sister who abused you every day". Mark said weaving memories into her mind. "I saved you from that and put you to use in a special place at my side to spite her"
Ashley, still overwhelmed by the revelation, felt a renewed sense of purpose. "Thank you, Master," she murmured, her voice hushed and reverent. "And to think, I was once a helpless animal, imprisoned by your sister's cruelty."
"But I changed that, didn't I?" Mark asked, his tone laced with pride. "I transformed you into a faithful companion, a guardian of my safety."
Ashley nodded, her gaze never wavering from his face.
"Yes, Master," she replied, her voice hushed and reverent. "You rescued me from that hell and turned me into a cherished companion."
Mark smiled, patting her gently on the head. "And now, Ashley," he continued, his voice softening, "you've earned the privilege of being human. You'll be able to accompany me to places where dogs weren't allowed."
Ashley's eyes widened, her gaze shifting to the collar around her neck.
"I'm a human now, Master?" she asked, her voice filled with wonder."
Mark nodded, his gaze softening. "Yes, Ashley," he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. "You've earned this new status."
Ashley leaned in, her breath tickling Mark's neck. "And I'll be able to protect you in places where dogs weren't allowed?"
Mark pulled her closer, his hands caressing her back. "Yes, Ashley," he repeated, his voice hoarse with longing.
"You'll be able to protect me in places where dogs weren't allowed." she asked, her voice filled with wonder."
Mark nodded, laughing inside to see the change in her mind. Spoiled princess converted into a loyal pet. Thinking she was a dog? He almost laughed out loud.
It was too easy. A trickster god of sorts, he had woven webs of deception around them, and they fell right into his trap. He enjoyed playing with their minds, reshaping their perceptions, and controlling their desires. His power was intoxicating, addictive, and oh-so satisfying.
"Ashley," he finally broke the silence, "your performance has been exemplary. Today, I want to offer you a special treat."
"Marion" he called. Clapping.
Marion appeared, the front of her body still a little wet. "What is they bidding my master?"
"Marion bring Ashley her dinner." Mark ordered her. "Yes, master. I obey." and she left. Returning seconds later with a bowl of dog food and a bone.
"Here is your meal, pet." Marion said.
Ashley stared at the bowl of food, her brow furrowing in confusion. "Dog food?" she asked, her voice quivering slightly hunger in her eyes.
Marion smirked, offering a condescending shrug. "Don't worry, pet. This is what you've been trained to eat. Enjoy your dinner."
Ashley swallowed hard, her gaze darting towards Mark smiling. "Thank you, my master, my favorite"
.
"Now, go ahead and enjoy your meal, pet," Mark said, his smile broadening.. "Dig in."
Ashley tentatively reached for the bowl, her fingers brushing against the cold metal. She scooped up a handful of kibble, the texture reminding her of her days as a pup. She brought the food to her mouth, her stomach churning uneasily.
"What does it taste like, pet?" Mark asked, his curiosity piqued.
Ashley paused, her eyes widening in surprise. "It tastes delicious"
Mark watched her intently, his gaze never straying from her expressive face. Marion, meanwhile, stifled a giggle, shaking her head in disgust. "You poor thing," she whispered under her breath. "Once a dog, always a dog."
Marion sneered, relishing the moment. "If it wasn't for my master, you wouldn't even be here, eating your kibble, and begging for the scraps."
Ashley recoiled, unable to hide the hurt in her eyes. "My master loves me," she whimpered defensively. "He'd never let anyone else mistreat me."
"Oh, please," Marion retorted, rolling her eyes. "You're just a lapdog now, aren't you?"
Mark looked to Marion. "Are you no better? Homeless, starving, living on the street since childhood." "You were sold to me in a brothel, used and debased. I took you in. Since you have been my most loyal servant" his words melting into her mind realigning her thoughts, her world and her pace in it.
Marion felt a surge of appreciation for this man who had given her a new lease on life. This man who had rescued her from a dark existence of abuse and neglect.
Marion's resentment melted away, replaced by profound gratitude. She knew that she was deeply indebted to Mark for giving her a life worth living.
"Master," Marion said humbly, her gaze fixed on the ground. "Please forgive me for my insolence. I was blinded by jealousy and ingratitude." "Your apology is accepted, Marion. Now, go and tend dinner"
"Yes, Master," Marion replied, her voice tinged with remorse.
She shuffled out of the room, her naked form swaying provocatively in the dim light.
"Ashley," Mark said, turning his attention back to the pet. "Perhaps you should join them in preparing my meal."
Ashley, her appetite for the kibble sated, eagerly agreed. "Yes, Master," she replied, her voice brimming with eagerness. "I must prove myself worthy of my new human status."
Mark laughed heartily, patting her affectionately on the head. "Good girl"
With a smile Emma carried in a large salad with a bottle of wine. Marion set the places. 3 spots should be enough. The dog can eat on the floor.
Marion said bringing a plate of food for herself and sitting on the table across from mark. "It's best for everyone if you stay out of the kitchen. You might break something."
"Yes, Mistress," Ashley murmured, her voice hushed and submissive. She carefully maneuvered her way to the floor, her nose wrinkling at the lingering scent of damp wood and mold.
"We'll be dining together tonight, won't we?" Mark asked, his gaze shifting between the three women.
"Yes, Master," Emma replied, her voice echoing in the dimly lit room. "We've prepared a feast for you to celebrate this glorious occasion."
Mark nodded approvingly, his gaze wandering over the sumptuous spread before him. "That's very thoughtful of you, Emma."
"Our pleasure, Master," Marion chimed in, her voice steady and composed. "We'll ensure that everything is perfect for you."
Mark smiled, his gaze sweeping over the three naked women seated before him.
Indira sat next to her master in a place of honor.
She was determined
to prove herself, showing her master that she was capable of handling the responsibilities that came with her new role. "Master," she started, her voice trembling slightly, "we have prepared a feast for you to celebrate this glorious occasion."
Mark smiled, his gaze swept over the three naked women seated before him. "That's very thoughtful of you, Indira."
Mark said, taking a sip of his wine. "Your efforts in orchestrating this gathering are appreciated."
Indira smiled proudly, her gaze never leaving Mark's face. "Of course, Master. Our sole purpose is to ensure your happiness and satisfaction."
Mark nodded, his gaze sweeping over the sumptuous spread before him. "Well, let's dig in, shall we?"
The four of them feasted on the delightful meal, their laughter filling the air like a symphony of unrestrained joy.
Emma and Marion vied for Mark's attention, each attempting to outdo the other in their attempts to please him. Indira, ever vigilant, kept watch over the proceedings, ensuring that her position as the favored mistress remained secure.
"Master," Emma began, her voice lilting with admiration, "I have an idea for a celebration that will make this day unforgettable."
Mark arched an eyebrow, his interest piqued.
"Oh? And what sort of celebration is that?"
Emma glanced nervously at Marion, her voice wavering slightly. "Well, Master, we could engage in a sensual dance for you—a private performance, just for you."
Mark's eyes widened, his gaze darting between the two slaves. "A sensual dance, you say? Sounds intriguing. What do you think, Marion?"
Marion pursed her lips, her gaze locked on her mother.
"I suppose that would be acceptable," she conceded, her voice dripping with disdain. "We could perform a sensual dance for our dear master."
Mark grinned, his gaze shifting between the two women. "Well, why wait? Let's begin this exquisite spectacle right here, right now."
Emma and Marion exchanged nervous glances, their bodies stiffening as they rose from their seats. They positioned themselves opposite each other, their naked forms bathed in the soft candlelight.
Ashley finished with her dinner stood behind her master and Indira her mistress.
Indira saw Ashley staring at the dance Emma and Marion were doing. "Ashley, why don't you join them?" Indira suggested, looking at her with a mischievous grin. "They are dancing for our beloved master. Why shouldn't you share the fun?"
Ashley's eyes widened at the suggestion, and she hesitated briefly before nodding her consent. "Okay," she agreed, her voice quavering slightly. "I will join them."
Ashley stepped forward, joining Emma and Marion in the center of the room.
The candles flickered, casting a warm, intimate glow upon their naked bodies. She glanced at Emma and Marion, both of whom wore expressions of determination and a hint of trepidation. They were eager to please their master, but also wary of the unknown. Ashley took a deep breath, steadying herself amidst the tension that permeated the air.
"Ladies," Mark announced, his eyes sparkling with anticipation, "let the dance commence!"
The three women moved fluidly, their movements synchronized as if guided by an unspoken understanding.
Emma and Marion danced with graceful elegance, their undulating hips and swirling arms creating a mesmerizing spectacle. Each woman sought to outshine the others, their competition fueling their desire to impress their master. The tension between them crackled like electricity, heightening the intensity of their performance.
Ashley, though somewhat intimidated at first, soon found herself absorbed in the rhythmic motions. She mirrored the steps of her companions, her natural talent and enthusiasm evident in her dance. Her gaze flitted between Emma and Marion, and she smiled, her confidence blossoming with each passing moment.
Ashley joined her friends in the dance, her movements becoming increasingly bolder and more sensual. She twirled and spun, her curves tracing mesmerizing patterns in the air. Her skin glowed radiantly beneath the soft flame of the candles, her lustrous hair cascading down her shoulders like a silken river.
As Emma and Marion intensified their performance, their dances became more daring and provocative. Their bodies brushed against one another, their hands grazing over each other's flesh as their movements intertwined. Their moans echoed harmoniously, adding to the entrancing symphony of their dance.
Emma, her gaze locked on Marion, seized the opportunity to assert dominance. She reached out, her fingers entwining with Marion's as she pulled her towards her. Their breasts pressed tightly against each other, the friction sending waves of excitement coursing through their veins.
Ashley, entranced by the unfolding spectacle, approached the pair. She ran her hands along their toned backs, her fingertips lightly grazing their skin. They shivered, their bodies responding instinctively to her touch. Ashley trailed her hands lower, cupping their firm asses and squeezing gently.
“So Indira, who has won our Contest.” Mark asked.
“Emma? She has taken it?”
Mark asked, raising an eyebrow. “I agree” he clapped his hands and the dance came to a stop.
“Emma, as the winner I will give you a prize.” Mark announced.
“Thank you master” she said brimming with pride.
“As a reward, I will tell you of your life you have forgotten “
The buxom mature woman stared in disbelief. “You came into my service from as a child. Seeing your talent as a dancer, I sent you to many schools to learn. When you returned from you journey you took your place as my personal entertainment to dance for my pleasure as I saw fit.” Mark weaved these new memories and he watched as her face seemed to freeze while her mind realigned itself to her new memories, new life and her place in it all”
.“Thank you, Master," Emma responded, blinking rapidly as her memories flooded back. "I remember now. I was truly honored to serve you and entertain you with my dancing skills.
"Yes, Emma," Indira chimed in, her voice laced with approval. "You have been a loyal and talented servant, always ready to perform for our master's delight."
Mark nodded, his gaze shifting between the two women. Inside his head he laughed at the ridiculousness of it all. His strict grandmother had never danced to his knowledge or even had any type of fun. Now this changed woman moved with the dexterity of someone a third of her true age.
After the performance she curtsied deeply bending in a bow. Her breasts touched the top of her thighs with her long curly grey hair framing her face.
Her pale blue eyes looked directly at Marion.
Chapter excerpt truncated at the edge.