Vox Dominus Pt. 17

She needed Master.

Her feet were already moving, carrying her towards the one guiding light she had left. He was the source of all of this. He would understand better than anyone what was happening to her. He could give her answers. He could give her clarity.

Or...he could take it all away.

Sophia wasn't sure which outcome she preferred. The realization made her chest shiver.

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"Seb? Hey, earth to Seb!"

"Huh?" Seb uttered, startled. Despite being in a crowded den with the lights on, Miki had somehow snuck up to his spot on the couch, and was now staring at him with concern.

"Are you...feeling alright?" she asked, her eyes flitting to red plastic cup in his hands. "Sure you're not pushing your luck with the booze there?"

"Oh. No, I'm fine," Seb lied. "Maybe a little tipsier than I expected," he added, hoping that would suffice for an explanation.

The truth was, two whole movies had gone by, and Seb had barely processed a minute of them. His entire world had been absorbed into the phone in his pocket, his every muscle tense and waiting for the vibration that would signal Sophia's reply. Yet the device had remained maddeningly dormant, its silence somehow drowning out the screams on the T.V. and the laughter of his friends.

"Alright, well, just be careful," Miki cautioned. "We've still got one more movie to go."

Seb nodded vaguely, watching as she crossed the room towards the kitchen where Tobias was waiting. Other club members milled around the cramped room, laughing, chatting, and venting some of the post-movie jitters. A few were collecting their coats by the door, hugging and bidding their friends farewell. It occurred to Seb that it might be wise to join them. He was tired, a little drunk, and not in the right headspace for yet another over-the-top slasher. But returning to the dorm wasn't exactly an attractive option either. It wouldn't silence his anxieties—it would just remove the free booze and friends. At least staying put offered a modicum of distraction from Sophia's silence.

Then again—the Vox stirred restlessly inside him—if he was at home, he could freely appreciate all those pictures Chelsea had sent him. She hadn't texted him in a while, so his fears and guilt about trapping her in a brain-melting loop were probably unfounded. There was no harm in enjoying the spoils of war, and with Ben spending the night at Nathalie's place, Seb didn't even have to fear interruption. Maybe he could call Chelsea and convince her to send him something special. He knew she would enjoy it, and so long as things were still ambiguous with Sophia, he didn't think it'd be crossing any lines...

The Vox hummed with delight, the sound sweetened by the booze still floating in Seb's head. But he quickly cut that line of thinking short: tempting though it was, it would only serve to muddle the situation further. The last he need was any more complications with—

His pocket buzzed, causing him to almost choke on his drink. His heart leapt into his throat, then plummeted when he read the message:

[master im here]

At first, Seb feared Chelsea had somehow tracked him down, and was now standing outside demanding his attention. But then he realized the text hadn't come from her number.

It had come from Sophia.

Seb stood, nerves chattering with every heartbeat. He slipped through the crowd towards the door, shooting one glance at the kitchen to make sure his friends were still occupied. If Sophia was calling him "master" out of the blue, it meant she was either very drunk, or still Voxed somehow. Either way, it was better Tobias and Miki weren't involved.

Sophia was waiting on the sidewalk outside, bathed in the glow of the nearby streetlight. Her eyes seemed oddly distant as they tracked the departing partygoers, her body swaying restlessly back and forth. Despite her cardigan, Seb could see her tiny nipples strain against the fabric of her tank-top, and her lips opened with a small gasp when she noticed him approaching.

"Master," Sophia uttered, as though pleasantly surprised to see him. The joy vanished in an instant though, her face twisting with confusion. "Er. Seb. Hi. Sorry."

"Glad you made it." Seb said, shooting a glance back at the porch windows. "Is everything alright? You didn't answer any of my—"

"S-something happened," the nervous girl blurted out. "Can we talk? Right now? Please? I'll do anything for you. I mean. God." She clutched her head with an exasperated groan. "You know what I mean, right Master? I mean—"

"It's okay," Seb assured her. "Just take a deep breath, and we'll talk."

Sophia obeyed, her eyelashes fluttering slightly as she exhaled. Seb placed his hand against the small of her back, guiding her to the shadowy side of the house. He couldn't help but notice the way her muscles loosened against his touch, nor the way her body immediately complied to the slightest nudge of his fingers.

"There," he said once they were safe from prying eyes. "Is this alright?"

"Yes. It's alright," Sophia repeated with a drowsy nod. She was visibly less jittery, though her gaze still didn't seem entirely lucid as it drifted up to meet his. Her mouth hung open silently, as though she was about to speak but had forgotten what she wanted say. And the longer they stood in silence, the closer she seemed to drift towards him. The Vox murmured, uncurling in the simmering tension.

Seb shifted, forcing himself to look away. "You, uh, said something happened?" he prompted.

"Huh? Oh, right." Sophia looked at the ground. "Sorry. When you touched me, it just. Um." She swallowed the rest of the sentence, and let out a shaky breath. "A-anyway...god, where do I start? Uh, remember when we were hanging out in my room and you h-hypnotized me?"

"Yes..." Seb answered. As if he could forget. "Though I thought I woke you up from that. You haven't been, y'know, tranced all day, have you?"

"No. Not exactly," Sophia answered. "But I did notice that it felt, um, different than the last time. I couldn't get your voice out of my head, and the more I thought about it, the more I started...wondering..." her dark eyes found his once again, and like a light being dimmed, her voice faded until she was silent and agape.

The Vox growled with anticipation, its dark influence already trickling into Seb's veins. His cock stiffened. His breathing slowed. Let a predator smelling blood, his body prepared itself to pounce. But he fought the poison back, stopping it short of his heart. Sophia wasn't prey; she needed his help. He had been an idiot to use his power so carelessly—why hadn't he considered some subjects would react differently than others? Now his best friend was trapped in a half-trance state, and it was all his fault.

"Sophia?" Seb asked, straining to keep his voice level.

She blinked. "Yes, Master?"

"I think there might be some, uh, side-effects from our session," Seb ventured, touching her shoulder and nudging her back the way they came. "But if we go back to my dorm, I think I can get rid of—"

"Wait." Sophia pressed a hand to his chest, freezing him in an instant. She huffed, scrunching her face in concentration. "It's not that. I mean, it kind of is but...look." She dropped her hand, turning and taking a few steps away. After another deep breath, she faced him again, her expression lit by a new spark of clarity. "What I'm trying to tell you is...Chelsea told me about the Vox. And she tricked me into listening to it."

The revelation swept through Seb like a frigid gale, stealing the air from his lungs. "She...what?" was all he managed to squeak out, before the spots in his vision cut him off.

"It was a trap," Sophia explained, running a hand through her hair. "I knew there was something weird going on between you two, and when I called her on it she told me you'd been...mind controlling her, I guess." She paused, as though scared to ask: "That's true, isn't it?"

Addled though he was, Seb knew he couldn't deny the truth any longer. "Yes," he croaked. "But it's not...it was an accident, and I swore I would never—"

"I know." Sophia's lips curved into a thoughtful pout. "She told me you were afraid of it, the, uh, power you have, I guess. I wasn't sure I believed her, but when she asked if I wanted to hear a recording of it...I said yes. Then...oh god..." She paused, a subtle shiver running through her. She swayed, off balance for a moment before falling against the house for support and sliding to her knees, as though the memory had sapped the strength from her legs.

"Fuck, Sophia, I'm so sorry." Seb rushed to her side. "If I had known what she was up to, I would've stopped her, I swear."

"Then what?" Sophia asked, a note of bitterness in her voice. "Would you have told me about the Vox? Ever? Or would it have stayed your secret little party trick?"

"I..." Seb's stomach shuddered, sick with shame. "I'm sorry. I knew it was wrong to keep it from you but...I didn't know what to do. I still don't," he admitted, unable to stop. "I've tried so hard to protect you and Chelsea from the Vox, but...I just keep making things worse."

He slumped against the wall, resting the back of his head against the cool siding. He stared at the web of powerlines and branches above, sensing Sophia's gaze, but unable to meet it. "Maybe I'm just cursed," he muttered. "Ever since the Vox came alive, all I've done is hurt and manipulate people. Even when I don't mean to."

"That's not true," Sophia said, scooting closer to kneel beside him. "Last night, when you hypnotized me...it was like living in one of my high school dreams. I felt...so calm. And safe. And...sexy. I didn't have to worry about school, or money, or bad habits or anything. I could just relax, and trust that you would take care of me. It was...all I've ever wanted."

Seb met her eyes. They were as soft and warm as her voice.

"Even now," she continued, "when I think about what Chelsea did, I...there's a part of me that doesn't regret it. I don't know if that's my own brain talking, or the Vox, or some mix of both, but I can't ignore it. It's calling to me. And..." her eyelids fluttered, her fingers gripping her sleeves, pressing her breasts together as a sigh trembled through them. "Oh god, I don't know what's happening to me, but Master, I...I...

"Sophia, listen to me," Seb's hands were shaking, but he gripped her shoulders fast, as if she might fade away at any moment. "I—I can fix this. I'll use the Vox again and erase...whatever Chelsea's done to you. Then, I'll track her down," his voice hardened, "and wipe the Vox clean from her memory. She'll never bother us again, I swear."

"And...then what?" Sophia asked. "What happens to you? To me? To the Vox? We can't just pretend things'll go back to normal."

"I-I know but, but..." Seb grit his teeth. "I'll figure something out. It might take some time, and I might have to keep my distance for a while, but I'll find a way to get rid of the Vox and—"

"No," Sophia's hands grasped his, her eyes pleading. "Please don't leave me again. Especially if you don't know when you'll come back."

Seb's throat coarsened with frustration. "Then what am I supposed to do?" he demanded.

Sophia paused. A car passed in the distance, offering no answers.

"What do you want?" she finally asked.

"I...I..." Seb hung his head, trying to hide the tears pricking the edges of his vision. How could a question be so simple, and yet cut so deeply? "I...I just don't want to be afraid anymore," he confessed. "I want to like who I am and...I want you to like me too."

Sophia seemed to absorb this, saying nothing.

Seb sniffed, forcing a rueful laugh. "What about you?" he asked. "What do you want?"

Sophia started to speak, then stopped. She withdrew her hands from Seb's and brought them to her face, as though carrying some of his warmth to her blushing cheeks. "I..." she swallowed. "I want you to ask me again...but with the other voice."

Seb met her eyes, hesitant. "You mean?"

Sophia nodded.

"You're sure?" Seb pressed. "It'll influence your answer."

"It already has," Sophia tilted her head with a tired smile. "And I'm sick of arguing with myself."

Seb released her shoulders, centering himself as he knelt across from her. "Okay," he said. "Are you ready?"

Sophia exhaled. The night air hung between them like a curtain waiting to be drawn.

"Yes, Master," she said.

The Vox was already dripping from his tongue, eager and ready. "Sophia," he uttered. "Relax."

The effect was immediate. Seb could almost see the wave of pleasure pass through her, a mirror image of the power rising within him.

"In a moment I'm going to ask you an important question. And you will answer truthfully, from the bottom of your heart. Understand?"

"Yes...Master..." she answered, her lips lingering open after each syllable. "I...understand..."

"Very good. Now..." even as the Vox drove him on, Seb couldn't help but hesitate. "What do you want?"

A flicker of confusion passed across Sophia's face. "I..." she bit her lip, her hips squirming slightly. "I..."

The Vox pumped eagerly through Seb, inflaming his blood and cooling his voice. "Whatever your answer is, say it clearly without fear. And know that it's the truth."

The final word sent a visible tremor through Sophia. A smile broke across her face, like a ray of sun through a cloudy sky.

Their eyes met.

"I want you, Master," she said.

Seb could resist no longer. He drew her to him, clasping her lips with his. He drank deeply from her with every sense, reveling in her sweet scent, her soft moans, her eager movements. She arched her back as his mouth found her neck, her fingers grasping his arms, pulling him closer, pressing her quivering breasts against his beating chest. Her hot breath beckoned him on, as though the fire in his veins needed any encouragement. As though the sweet taste of her tongue and the yielding softness of her body weren't enough to burn away all inhibitions, leaving only the raw desire to seize what was his. His leg pressed against her crotch and her thighs squeezed tight, her hips grinding desperately, pleadingly.

"Please, Master," she gasped, balling his shirt in her fists. "Take me. Take all of me. Please, I'll do anything, I'll—mm!"

Seb cut her off with another kiss, and delighted in her dazed gasp when he pulled away, a dribble of saliva still lingering on her open, panting lips.

"If you wish to be mine," he growled, his voice thrumming with power. "You must be willing to give me everything."

"Yes..." the burgeoning slave mewled, grasping for him with trembling hands. "Oh god, yes...please..."

"Good girl." Seb smiled as his approval shook gasping whimpers from her mouth. "Then follow me," he commanded, standing. "And obey."

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Sophia was floating, drifting in ecstatic flight, so high and free that not even her own thoughts could reach her.

The bus started to move. Master and Sophia were seated in the back. His hand was stroking her leg as his words stroked her mind. Sophia couldn't decide which she loved more. She didn't have to.

"Good girl. That's right. So obedient. So relaxed. So ready to go even deeper for me, aren't you?"

"Yes," her lips answered.

"Then drop for me...now."

His fingers snapped and Sophia's vision blurred. Her head lolled against Master's shoulder as the world dissolved into a hazy collage of ecstasy and arousal. She felt helpless, weak, and yet safe in the cradle of his power. Time was the mark of his touch, her senses a mere product of his words. She could feel her old self melting away, her beating core eager to be remade. Never had she been so beholden, and never had she felt so free.

"Open your eyes. Very good. Now follow."

Master was leading her down a hall now, his hand wrapped tightly in hers. His fingers seemed to vibrate, sending electricity racing across her skin and brain, sparking with each step as they approached a wooden door. It lead to his dorm room, Sophia realized, noting the fact without further thought or feeling. If either were necessary, Master would tell her. Until then, she would allow herself to slip back into the waters of her mind, into the warm pool of blissful obedience she craved.

"That's good," Master murmured as they entered. "Now stand in the center of the room, and await further orders."

Sophia felt like she was gliding across the floor, her movements free of friction. The door clicked shut behind her, and she heard the sound of clothes rustling. Still she waited, passive and obedient. She was a good girl. Good girls waited for their orders.

Master's fingers curled around her shoulders. She felt his breath lick her cheek. She quivered, her skin hot and desperate. But she remained still, as commanded. Even as Master's bare chest pressed against her back, and his erection teased her ass.

"Good girl," Master purred, sending a flash of pleasure through her brain. "Now, turn and face me."

Sophia did as she was told. Master stood back, his naked form haloed by the hazy glow of his desk lamp. His slender chest rose and fell with deep, steady breaths, his cock stiff and red, eagerly twitching in the half-light. Sophia felt her mouth water, her pussy tensing in time with the object of her fixation. It was automatic, instinctual—her body knew how to ready itself for her Master's wishes.

Master grinned. His dark eyes hummed with an impossible radiance, so transfixing that Sophia found her gaze drawn into his, so deeply it felt like she was falling into him. "Very good," his voice reverberated in her head. "Now on the count of three, I want you to strip for me. And I want you to feel yourself becoming more open, more submissive, and more aroused with every item of clothing that you remove. You will do this for me, because you cannot resist. You do not want to resist. Your only wish is to obey. Isn't that right?"

"Yes Master," Sophia panted, barely able to contain her excitement.

"Good girl. And be sure to recite your mantra while you do it. One. Two. Three."

Mantra? When had she learned a manta? No matter—the words were already floating from her lips as she slipped the cardigan off her shoulders, letting it fall as she undid the buttons on her jeans.

"I am my Master's slave," she chanted. Her pants were the next to hit the floor. "My body belongs to my Master. My mind belongs to my Master. I cannot deny him. I will always obey."

He was circling her now, so tantalizingly close, yet still out of reach. Sophia's hands trembled as she peeled her soaking panties free. She ached for his touch, for his possession. Only he could give her what she wanted, could relieve her from the agony of being so wet, so open, and yet so, so empty.

"I am m-my Master's slave," her voice shook as her tits dropped free from her bra. "M-my body belongs t-to my Master. My mind belongs to my Master. I...I cannot deny him. I...I...will always...o-obey..."

She felt him behind her. His heat, his presence. In the space between their bodies his power pooled and caressed her. She stood stock still, naked. Unable to move, unable to think. A pure conduit for her Master's will, an animal of slavish, irresistible pleasure.

His arms wrapped around her, and Sophia gasped. His hands roamed her body, tracing the contours of her wide hips and soft belly, seizing ample fistfuls of her needy, sensitive tits. Every squeeze and tickle rippled through her in thrums of pleasure, every brush of his fingers against her nipples drawing a halting cry to her lips.