Vox Dominus Pt. 16

Chapter 16

Seb struggled to lift his head off the pillow, the residue from last night still clinging to the inside of his skull. Even as his power was becoming easier to use, it still took a serious toll on his body. At least the post-Vox hangovers were becoming less pronounced—maybe with enough practice, they'd go away entirely. Until then, all he could do was wait for his mind to reboot, and endure the curious stare of his roommate, who was already busy brushing his teeth.

"Googhd nighgt?" Ben asked through a mouthful of toothpaste foam.

"Huh?" Seb replied, not yet operational enough to translate.

Ben spit into their sink. "I was askin' if you had a good night. When I got back from Nat's place, you were totally passed out on your bed. So I figure you either had, like, a really good night, or a really, really shitty one."

Seb blinked. Memories of his time with Sophia sparked as his mind reignited, excitement evaporating the lingering fog. It had indeed been a "good night:" not only had he entranced her, but the two of them had all but confessed their feelings for one another. Seb still wasn't completely sure what it all meant, nor what his next step should be, but...

"Ah-haaa I know that smile," Ben laughed. "You gonna tell me about her or what?"

"I-I dunno what you're talking about," Seb deflected, sliding off the mattress and beginning to change.

"Yeah, whatever bro. Whoever she is, I think she misses you already," he jabbed his toothbrush towards Seb's nightstand. "Your phone was, like, blowing up last night."

"Really?" Seb exclaimed, his charade of nonchalance shattered in an instant.

"Uh-huh. It was lighting up like crazy, bro."

Seb hurriedly grabbed his phone, his eyes widening as he flicked the screen open. Sure enough, a long line of texts had filled up his inbox overnight. But they weren't from Sophia.

They were from Chelsea.

Seb opened the message thread, and found himself staring at a long line of naked photos. They were nearly identical to the one she had sent last night: each picture featured her kneeling in front of her mirror, her glazed eyes staring at the ceiling, her tongue lolling from her drooling lips, her nipples stiff and her pussy dripping. Sometimes her free hand was rubbing between her glistening thighs. Other times it was pawing at her cream-colored tits, smearing the lipstick that still barely read "I'M A DUMB SLUT." Regardless, every image came with a similar message:

[CHELSEA: I'm sorry for being bad, Master. Please forgive your stupid slave.]

[CHELSEA: im sorry for beeingbad master please forgivee ur stupid slave]

[CHELSEA: I'm sorry for being a bad, stupid slave. Please forgive me, Master.]

[CHELSEA: sorry master, i was bad and stupid but i promise to be a good slave forgive me please please please]

[CHELSEA: I'm sorry for being bad, Master. Please forgive your stupid slave.]

Seb's eyes narrowed. If it weren't for these slight variations, he would assume this was some sort of glitch. Even discounting that possibility, and the erection now tenting his jeans, he couldn't shake the feeling something was wrong. Was she listening to the file on repeat, falling into trance and following the same line of commands each time? He knew it was likely that she would indulge in the recording more than once, but if the time stamps on his screen were to be believed, she had spent the whole night and a little of the early morning Voxing her brain into mush.

That couldn't be good, right?

Or was it? Maybe this would keep Chelsea sated and prevent her from making a move on him and Sophia.

Or maybe it would melt the blonde's mind completely. Maybe she had already reduced herself to the helpless sex-slave of her dreams. Maybe she was still listening right now, the mantras of the recording having replaced any semblance of independent thought, her body and brain now mere toys for her Master to play with. Maybe victory was hers, and Seb had inadvertently handed it to her. Maybe any chance of a relationship with Sophia was already gone, replaced by an obligation to manage a woman who was now mindless and directionless without him.

"So...good news or bad news?" Ben asked.

Seb quickly locked the phone screen before his roommate could hazard a peek. "Uh, neither, really," he answered.

And he dearly hoped he was right.

_______________________________________

Sophia squirmed in her seat, nibbling on her pen at the back of the lecture hall. Her notebook was blank, any hopes of learning about data structures long abandoned. The diagrams on the projector screen were little more than a blur to her, the professor's lecture no match for the awful thoughts flooding her flushed, sleep-deprived head.

Seb had lied to her. And Chelsea was in on it too.

Why?

It was a question Sophia had struggled with all night, her mind tossing and turning until it spiraled off into impossible possibilities. Could it be that Chelsea and Seb really were an item? If that was the case, why hadn't she mentioned it before? And how did that explain the other girl he was with at the party? Were they in some sort of secret poly-setup?

Or...could it be that everything Sophia had witnessed at the talent show had been the truth? What if Chelsea had initially tried to ruin Seb's performance, only to be ensnared and entranced by him? What if he had continued to train her, turning her into a lapdog for his pleasure and using her as a smokescreen for brainwashing other victims? What if the girl at the party had been one such conquest? Could he even do that? Turn a stranger into an obedient thrall, all in the course of one night?

That seemed pretty hard to believe. But it was an easy narrative for Sophia's stressed, horny brain to latch onto.

She let out a shuddering sigh, grateful that the dimmed lights obscured her flustered expression. It had been like this for her since puberty: for all the Sunday School lectures and warning stories from her parents, her libido had a hair trigger that even everyday excitement could set off. To make matters worse, anxiety often provoked a similar response, which could lead to a vicious cycle of angst and arousal. Some days it felt like her body and mind were at war; others like they were conspiring against her.

Today definitely fell into the latter camp.

The idea of Seb being some sort of supernatural slaver was absurd. Sophia knew that. There was no such thing as mind control powers, and even if there were, Seb wasn't the kind of guy who would abuse them. Sure, she had long suspected that his interest in hypnosis was equal parts erotic and academic, but she also knew that he was a shy, thoughtful dork who would panic at the mere possibility of hurting someone. One year of college couldn't change somebody that much, could it?

An intrusive memory from the previous night filtered through her thoughts, an echo of trance flitting through her mind, down her spine and into her pussy. She crossed her legs, hoping nobody overheard the slight hitch in her breath.

Whatever had transpired Seb's freshman year, she had to admit: he had gotten a lot better at that hypnosis thing. The trance she had felt in high school was nice, but it was nothing compared to what he had done to her last night. It was something about that voice of his. Sophia couldn't quite pin it down, but there was a moment when his words sounded....different.

No, it wasn't just that: they felt different. It was like listening to a concert album versus being there in person. The moment Seb had drawn her into his world, his song ceased to be purely auditory. It had filled her head and thrummed in her chest. It had captured her senses and smothered her thoughts. She had felt helpless yet safe. Giddy, yet calm. No longer in control, but no longer afraid. Her body and mind, so often in conflict, had been brought into perfect sync, dancing to the whims of a new Master. A Master whose eyes had shone with care as he bound her to his power, whose gentle hands had left traces of warmth on her sensitive skin.

Traces she could even feel now, her left hand subconsciously cupping her cheek, a quiet sigh escaping her lips. Without her even meaning to, her legs had slid apart again, the tip of her pen now teasing the growing wetness between them. The world drifted away as she slipped deeper into her fantasies, into the wild urges and illusions of her soft, insatiable flesh.

She could just forget about seeing Seb at the party. She could pretend that nothing was wrong. They could be together like they always wanted. It was such a beautiful picture: her hand in his as they walked through the Crossing, her lips trembling as they kissed and parted to their separate classes. She imagined sneaking loaded glances and secret caresses at lunch; dressing up for dates and feeling the heat in his stare. Teasing him all night, tickling that fire she knew roared inside him. Then unleashing it back at her place, letting him consume her, opening her mind and body to his control, letting him take everything but her own animal lust, yearning to be fed. By his hands, by his cock, by his cum, by his voice. Whatever he wanted. Whatever she needed.

It could be so easy.

It could be exactly what he had been doing to other girls.

And would that be so bad? To be a link in a hedonistic chain, bound to a harem of sexy, hypnotized slaves? To service each other by day, ensuring they were all wet and ready for their Master at night?

No, Sophia wouldn't be just another mindless thrall. She would be the overseer of her Master's property. She would ensure every girl kept in line, deepening their conditioning with pleasure and pain. The more hesitant their obedience, the more humiliating their orders, until they would beg to have their face between her legs, until their purpose in life was to be used and abused, by her and Master alike. Chelsea would be the first. Sophia would reduce that snarky princess to a drooling, panting, personal pleasure pet, her scheming brain polished smooth by weeks of correctional training, until the only complex task she could manage would be...

The lights in the lecture hall snapped on, and Sophia nearly knocked her notebook over in a panic. She grasped the edges of the desk, keeping her head low as the rest of her classmates filed out. Gradually, the pulsing heat between her legs dimmed enough for her to collect her things, though her cheeks still burned with embarrassment. This wasn't the first time she had drifted off at a bad time, but her fantasies had never been so...vivid. And she had never accidentally edged herself in the middle of a class.

Sophia slipped her headphones on as she bustled out of the lecture hall and hurried to the Crossing. As the Final Fantasy X soundtrack filled her ears and the crisp air cooled her skin, she was finally able to arrange her thoughts. Her next class wasn't for a few hours—if she was quick, she could go back to her dorm, vent some of her sexual frustration, and even grab a quick nap before her Software Engineering discussion.

Her phone buzzed. Sophia glanced down, and felt an anxious twinge as she read Seb's text. He was asking if she still planned on swinging by the Diepner Players movie night.

Sophia sat on a park bench, considering and discarding several possible responses. None of them felt right. How exactly did one say: "There's a part of me that really wants to spend the night with you and finish what we started but I'm also afraid you might be a serial philanderer, a swinger, or have evil mind control powers so maybe we should just rain check this for a while?"

Besides the obvious, anyway.

With a heavy sigh, Sophia gave up and pocketed her phone. A breeze rustled the trees, beams of sunlight strobing overhead as the leafy branches swayed. Pockets of students passed immersed in their own conversations, chattering through conventional gossip and plans. It was surreal: how could the world seem so calm, even as a tempest spun inside her?

Another text zapped her out of the moment. Sophia huffed, expecting a follow-up response from Seb. Only to see Chelsea's number instead.

[CHELSEA: Hey, got any plans tonight? I've got something amazing to show you!]

Sophia's blood roared in her ears. She could just picture the sorority queen's devilish smirk as she had typed that message. Still, Sophia forced herself to take a calming breath, and replied as casually as she could.

[SOPHIA:??? what is it?]

[CHELSEA: It's a surprise! But I promise you'll like it. Please say you'll come over? It'll be fun and chill, I swear. No parties, just you, me, and some top-shelf vodka. I could really use it after this week lol.]

Sophia frowned. The true purpose of this invite wasn't clear, but the odds that Chelsea actually just wanted some gal pal time were slim to none. If there was a moment when Sophia thought they could be friends, it had died after Chelsea had lied to her. No matter how charming her words or how enticing her eyes, the blonde couldn't be trusted.

But...that didn't mean she couldn't be useful. Sophia's fingers tapped on her phone screen.

[SOPHIA: ok. lemme know what time and i'll be there.]

Sophia locked the screen and continued making her way towards her dorm. Given what was in store for her tonight, she definitely needed to make sure her head was clear. Chelsea was probably expecting Sophia to arrive in the same state as last week: clueless, nervous, and way out of her depth.

Boy, was that smug bitch in for a surprise.

_______________________________________

Chelsea hummed to herself as she bounced around the apartment kitchen, prepping a bevy of drinks and snacks for Sophia's arrival. If the block party was any indication, her dark-haired guest was partial to vodka cocktails, but Chelsea made sure to have several backup options just in case. A little lubrication would go a long way to helping Master's programming go down smoothly.

Mmm...programming...

Chelsea paused, a warm shiver traveling up her skirt. She glanced at the clock: was there time for one more session before her guest arrived? It wouldn't take long: Master's recording had been all but burned into her brain, and all it took was recalling a few delicious lines for her cheeks to flush, her pussy to moisten, and her mind to begin sinking. Better still, the mere recognition of her brainwashing only amplified its effects, her arousal rising on swells of humiliation and ecstasy. All she had to do then was play Master's "cum" command, and indulge in the blissful culmination of her conditioning.

Her hand was already slipping between her legs, teasing her dampened panties. It was so, so tempting. She had the apartment to herself and the sunset was filtering in through the curtains just right. She smoothed her blouse over the curve of her breasts, her nipples stiffening in her fingers' wake. After going so long without Master's voice, without permission to enjoy his property for herself...who could blame her for going overboard? She could just make a quick dash to her bedroom, grab the still-glistening dildo from her desk, hike up her skirt, yank her panties aside and...

She groaned, balling her fists and forcing them to her sides. No. It was too risky. Sophia could arrive at any moment, and Chelsea couldn't afford to be caught out of sorts. It was like her mother had taught her: the closer you were to victory, the more vulnerable you became. If Chelsea wasn't on her A-game tonight, all of her efforts would be a waste.

Then again...she smiled to herself, recalling the torrid night of editing and pleasure training...maybe not a total waste.

Her phone hummed on the countertop, jolting her out of her reverie. Sophia was downstairs, waiting to be buzzed in; Chelsea couldn't afford to keep her waiting this time. The blonde quickly tapped the button to unlock the lobby doors and bustled into the hallway, pausing only to check her appearance in the mirror one last time. She was wearing the same outfit she had back when Master had first visited, back when the Vox was still unnamed, when its potential still filled her with as much fear as it did longing. The tight black skirt, thigh-high stockings and blouse combo might've been a bit much for a supposed "chill night in," but she couldn't resist. The poetry of it was too perfect. Besides, she wanted to look nice for Master when presenting his new slave. He would be in a delicate emotional state then, and she needed to guide his actions in a very...specific direction.

Three quick knocks signaled her guest's arrival. Chelsea took one last deep breath, sinking into character. There was no turning back now. She opened the door.

"Hey, glad you could make it." She smiled, weighing her voice with a hint of fatigue as she welcomed Sophia inside.

"No problem," the bespectacled girl answered, her large brown eyes scanning the entryway. "So...what's the 'amazing surprise' you had to show me?"

Chelsea forced a laugh. "Getting right to it, huh? Though I guess I did leave you in suspense," she admitted, taking her guest's coat. "Make yourself home on the couch and I'll tell you all about it."

Sophia made a sound somewhere between acknowledgement and skepticism. Chelsea paused, watching her guest closely as she moved down the hall. Something was off. The last time Sophia had visited, the girl had been as jittery and aimless as a leaf on the wind, easily swept in whatever direction Chelsea pleased. But now, the tension that inhabited the quiet girl was focused. Guarded. She was suspicious, but of what Chelsea wasn't certain.

Still, she wasn't about to let it derail her plan. Not yet. "How 'bout a drink?" she offered as she reached the cocktail counter.

"Uh, sure," Sophia answered, watching with a hawk's gaze. "You're dressed nice tonight."

"Had a sorority meeting right before this. Homecoming falls on the same weekend as Halloween this year, and it's been absolutely brutal for our planning committee." Chelsea sighed, nodding towards the drinks in her hands. "Like I said. It's been a week."

"You can say that again."

Chelsea smiled at the vague reply, settling onto the couch beside her quarry. Up close, it was obvious that Sophia had also put a bit more effort into her appearance than usual. She had traded in her usual hoodie for a soft, baggy cardigan draped over a skin-tight tank-top, though its clinginess around the chest might've been more due to her figure than design. Her black hair was done up in a cute bun, a true feat given its usual unruly state. Was she hoping to impress Chelsea? Intimidate her? Or just trying to psyche herself up?

Whatever the case, there was sharp intent hidden in this outfit. Chelsea would have to be on guard until she ascertained where it was aimed.

"Well, then..." the blonde brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and held her drink aloft. "It's a cliché, but T-G-I-F, right?"

"Totally." Sophia replied as their glasses clinked. She barely even took a sip before setting it down.

"So." Chelsea clapped her hands together. "The surprise. Remember how a while back you asked me to talk to—um, to Seb about his hypnosis hobby?"

"Yeah..."

"I know it took me a while, but I finally got the chance to bring it up this week. And guess what?" Chelsea watched for any reaction, but Sophia's expression remained frustratingly neutral. "It turns out, he's actually been making hypnosis files for practice this whole time. He was really embarrassed about it, but I convinced him to let me have one of the recordings." Chelsea held up her phone triumphantly. "I was thinking maybe we could listen to it together."

Sophia's eyes widened. Her surprise was a minor relief to Chelsea, but the lack of excitement or nervousness was concerning.

"Wait," Sophia said. "When did you talk to him, exactly?"