Night Trial

Phoebe tried to run, to move, to speak. Everything felt so difficult. The warning voice she'd had in her head was still there but it was so quiet now, so hard to listen to. With one last bout of concentration she looked at Lanke. "Ms. Lanke..." she started to say.

Lanke sprayed her for a third time. Phoebe hadn't even seen her pick up the sprayer. The burnt odor was there again but this time Phoebe didn't mind it. Her vision briefly swam and grew fuzzy and when it cleared Lanke was still standing in front of her but now her hands were on Phoebe's tits, her fingers tweaking Phoebe's nipples.

"It's hard for you to not worry about things, isn't it, Phoebe?" Lanke asked. Phoebe whimpered in response.

"It's okay," Lanke continued. "Tonight you don't have to worry or even think. You can just relax. You'll like it. I promise. You like it," she said as she simultaneously pinched Phoebe's nipples.

Phoebe felt her arousal begin. "Yes," she said. And somewhat to Phoebe's surprise she meant it.

"Good slut," Lanke said, sneering.

She led Phoebe over to a chair. Phoebe heard Veronica moaning behind her. Lanke pushed Phoebe onto her knees in front of the chair before sitting down herself. She spread her legs wide, displaying her arousal to Phoebe. Phoebe couldn't look away.

Lanke's fingers entwined in Phoebe's hair and pulled her forward until Phoebe's lips were on the warm, wet flesh. "Eat it," Lanke said. Something inside of Phoebe finally gave way. Her last lucid thought for the next several hours was that she could finally let go. She closed her eyes, opened her mouth, and did as she was told.