The Devil's Toys

I go through every single woman in my contacts list, feeling like a kid in my candy shop. There's no accountability for my actions, no fear of punishment, no payback. I can have them all, any way that I want to.

Eventually, my finger hovers on Lina's contact.

I stop rubbing, although I let Maria continue her slavish ministrations in peace. All of a sudden, I remember how all of this started. With my friend -- who's now kneeling before me in submission -- needing my help.

I do blush a little at that. It's one thing to enjoy the perks of my new status, but shouldn't I do something to prove to the universe that I deserve this? To prove that I'm grateful, and won't squander the magical gift I've received?

I did say to myself that I would protect Maria, and that I would do justice.

My eyes travel back and forth between Lina's name on the screen, and Maria's devotion at my feet.

A plan begins to form inside my head as my eyes narrow.

And inside me, my resolve hardens.

The Day Of My Entrhonement.

"What's the meaning of this?"

Lina's face is priceless, absolutely incredible. I wish I could take a photo to immortalise the moment. But I suppose I can always command her to perfectly recreate the expression for me, later in life.

And to be honest... I can't blame her for looking at me in complete shock. I've asked her here on the pretence that we needed to talk urgently. But the scene before her probably feels like a fever dream right now.

I'm enthroned in my reclining armchair, one jeans-clad leg draped over the other, my sneakered feet bobbing in expectation and cockiness. Anna is kneeling to my left, rubbing her cheek against the palm of my hand like a loving pet.

To my right kneels Maria, eyes vacant and glassy from the latest mindfuck I've given her, which left her emptier than usual. I was feeling a little rough. Janice is below my sneakers, the nerd turned into a humble footstool for her new goddess.

But the cherry on top -- or bottom, I suppose -- is Helena, who opened the door. She now simpers and bows in her maid uniform, asking me if she should serve the guest coffee.

Helena, Lina's rich bimbo friend, reduced to an oversexed and ditzy maid.

I feel like a Bond villain, or something. All that's missing is a cat in my lap, but with four girls at my feet, I think I can hardly complain.

The passing thought crosses my mind that I might have let this go to my head a little, and that I may or may not have become irredeemably evil.

"I don't know what sick game you're playing," Lina spits out, venom in her voice as she turns to leave, "but I'll have no part of it."

Little does she know. With one fluid motion I rise from the armchair, and leap towards her.

I tackle her to the ground with my shoulder, then clamber atop her as she thrashes wildly underneath me. My hands flash to her wrists pinning them to the ground.

The thrill I feel is hard to describe. It's why I wanted to do it this way, rather than just mind control her from the off. Because you see... there are no consequences. Not for me, not anymore.

She can't actually hurt me. If I lose physical control of the situation, my mental tentacles will shackle her in seconds. I can literally physically abuse her, and compel her not to tell anyone.

Crime without punishment. Action without consequence. Subduing her with my body before I do it with my mind. It's thrilling, and hot.

There was a fire between my legs at the thought of physically stamping my will on the queen bee, turning the tables on her, sending her straight to the very bottom of my harem.

Making her Maria's footslave, forcing her to lick Helena's cunt whenever required, giving Anna and Janice foot massages. A slave to slaves. Knocked off her perch, and then pinned under my foot... for the rest of her life.

"Have you gone insane?" Lina spits out, and then she arches her neck, trying to bite one of my arms.

"Girls," I say, "hold her." I savour the moment of confusion and horror in her eyes as four pairs of hands clamp around her limbs. The girls -- my slaves -- drive their knees into each of Lina's arms and legs.

"No biting," I tell her.

"Wha -" she asks, but before she can finish, I slide all the way up her body and unceremoniously land my crotch atop her face, forcing her mouth shut.

It's like I have a bucking horse underneath me, a strong and wild animal slowly being tamed to its new reins. Every time Lina tries to struggle, her nose presses further into my crotch. Every moan and groan goes straight to my pussy.

I grab her by the hair, drawing her face deeper in between my legs. Her wide eyes go from furious, to indignant, to afraid.

I know she's going to have trouble breathing soon.

"Your reign of terror ends today, Lina," I tell her, stroking her hair and adjusting my position on her face. "And mine has just begun."

I lift myself slightly, allowing her to catch a wheezing breath.

Then, I crash back down with as much force as I can muster. Her whimper of pain is delicious. I start humping her face, claiming it as part of my territory, marking it with my scent.

"If you want to breathe again," I say, wiggling against her face, "I want to hear you say it. I want you to submit."

The supreme confusion in her eyes is second only to her fear. That's fine. I don't need her to understand. The need to breathe will shape her words. Understanding will come soon after, when I finally claim her for who and what she's supposed to be.

"I submit!" She shouts as soon as I let her gulp air. "Please let me go, okay? I won't tell anyone, I swear!"

The insincerity behind the words is palpable, but that's fine. I can't expect her to be good prior to her true enslavement. This is just to humiliate her, really. And there's no doubt right now about who's being made into a bitch.

"I know you don't mean that," I tell her, and her eyes widen in fear. She shakes her head desperately under my crotch, to convince me that she does mean it. "Don't worry," I say. "You will."

Then I muster my power, and push my way into her mind.

This time, I have none of the awkwardness of my initial endeavours. But I also don't go for subtlety, oh no.

My tentacles wrap around Lina's mind with all the metaphorical strength I can give them, and then, they begin to squeeze.

I don't hate her, truly. She's a bitch, and no doubt slavery will do her a world of good, but... this is about my own pleasure. I want to see how far I can take this. How deep I can mindfuck her.

"No more guys for you," I tell her as I squeeze her old identity away. I'm letting her breathe now, my crotch hovering over her warm lips, and her eyes are racing this way and that as her mind is constricted into a much smaller space.

It's a wonder to look at. It's like I'm seeing the old Lina die underneath me... and a new Lina being born.

"You'll only be into girls," I continue, "and they will all be superior to you. You are the lowest of womankind, the worst it has to offer. Your existence is defined by serving other women."

I squeeze with all my might. "Ugghhh," Lina says below me, wordless and defeated. "Eeeek."

"You will love and worship all of my harem, every girl in it. And me, me above all. We'll be your religion, your reason to live. Your family wealth will make our lives comfier and luxurious. Your lips will service feet and cunts at the snap of our fingers. You will cook and clean and slave away at our feet."

I push my crotch back into her face.

"Kiss it," I say. "Kiss your new ruler."

I'm puppeteering her now, so much so that she basically jerks upward, planting dozens of kisses all over my thighs and crotch.

This is it.

I win. I'm the queen. And she's...

Worthless. Dirt under my shoes.

I stand up, towering over my claimed quarry, and stamp my sneakered feet into her cheek.

"Remember what I said," I tell her, withdrawing my power from her mind, leaving her a whimpering, sobbing mess beneath me. "The lowest of the low."

Lina wriggles beneath me, but it's more by reflex than any true desire of rebellion. I start taking off my sneakers. It's time to break her in, get her started on her new duties.

I grind my naked feet, sweaty from the exertion, into her face.

"You spend hundreds of dollars on skin lotions and facemasks," I tell her, sneering, wiping my sweaty soles on her cheeks and hair. "But see how generous I am. I'm giving you a new one for free. One that suits you much better."

"Please..." she whispers. "Why..."

I place one foot on the ground, right next to her lips, the big toe pressing against them. Seeking to part them.

"Kiss it."

I don't compel her, this time, so her execution isn't as smooth. But she debases herself of her own free will, placing one conquered, whorish smooch on the tip like it's a cock, and that's better than any puppeteered service.

"Suck it."

And she does, wrapping her cute lips around my toe like a vacuum seal, and gently bobbing up and down. So well-behaved. So easily domesticated. Then again, with my powers, I suppose I'm playing easy mode.

And really, what other mode would you rather be playing in life?

"Open wide," I tell her, shoving more and more of my toes inside her mouth. Eventually, I start pushing my foot in there, while the other pins her shoulder down to the ground. Her four fellow slaves -- her new bosses, really -- watch in rapt fascination, swaying on their knees.

Lina's eyes begin to water as my toes brush against the entrance to her throat. She's now a face-fuck toy, and my mind is already spinning with so many things I can do to her. Get her to the edge, make her beg for it, then deny her pleasure.

Over and over again. Asserting my dominance over her sexuality, over her very essence.

Her delicious gagging noises threaten to take me over the edge all by themselves. Especially when paired with her watery, defeated slut eyes.

On second thought, even I must admit it. I've let this absolute power corrupt me absolutely. I've become well and truly evil.

What a good thing then, I think as I consider my newest little lesbian pet girl, that evil comes in so many amazing varieties.

And all of them feel so, so incredibly good.