Yes, Mistress

John put his hands in his pockets as he crossed the dark, quiet street. The breeze that blew through his hair and whipped his face was refreshing as he thought about the revolution. John was an army veteran that suffered from PTSD, or Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

John couldn't stop thinking about his army tours and the horrors he had seen there. John had been an idealistic young man who wanted to get out and explore the world. So, he had joined the army, only to come out a changed man.

John couldn't sleep. He was hit with flashbacks: the river of blood soaking the battlefield, the blown-up bits of his friends, the dreaded gunfire, and the grief after. John heard a sound in the quiet night and pulled out his gun, hands shaking.

His psychiatrist told him he shouldn't carry a weapon on him all the time, but he couldn't help it. When he was in Afghanistan, he had had to be vigilant all the time: head on a swivel and ears perked. He couldn't shake that habit, even in this protected, safe city.

He put his gun away, but suddenly the cement beneath his feet turned to dirt and gravel, and the quiet night was full of sounds.

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Afghanistan, 1 year earlier

John yelled into his radio from his temporary operating base. "Where is group Alpha Charlie?"

His friend, Corporal White responded, "I don't see them, sir. They're probably held up. They'll come through for us. Corporal Hobson will make sure of it."

John smiled. Corporal Hobson was his best friend since high school. He was the most tenacious and good man John knew. John snapped out of his reverie and looked at the MTS program. MTS stood for Midvale Tracking Systems.

It was a new technology that tracked the army's troops using blue. The army's troops could also put the enemy troops on the map using red. It was damn useful, to say the least. However, technology isn't perfect, and right now John couldn't see Alpha Charlie on the program.

Just then, the officer under John patched Corporal White through: "We have a large amount of enemy troops coming. It's weird. The troops seem to be emulating our military tactics." The enemy troops appeared in red on the MTS program.

John smiled. The enemy might be able to emulate their tactics, but they didn't have Apache gunships that did utter destruction. The enemy was going to be decimated. John told the pilot, "Destroy the enemy troops."

Even from the safety of his temporary command center, John could hear the screams of the enemy. That was when Corporal White yelled through the radio, "Those troops were Alpha Charlie!"

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"No! No!" John's shouts echoed off the empty buildings in the quiet night as he sank to his knees. Just then, something hit the back of his head and everything turned to black.

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John woke up shackled to a bed in a dark room with someone poking and prodding him. "Mmm. Good-sized cock. Good muscles. Perfect male specimen." Said the mystery person.

John yelled out. "Who are you? Let me go!" He emphasized his last sentence by shaking around and straining against the chains.

Then the lights came on and he found himself staring at the mystery person. It was a she. And she was the most stunning woman John had ever seen. She had long-brown hair, plump lips, and a heart-shaped face.

"Hello. I'm Eira, your new mistress." She said. John couldn't speak for a moment. However, he soon came to his senses.

"Let me go, you sick fuck." He shouted.

"Uh-uh-uh," Eira said in her sexy, sultry voice.

Just as John opened his mouth in protest, Eira put her lips around his cock. John stiffened and then groaned, pushing his hips up in response to Eira's cock-sucking. Just when John was about to cum, Eira pulled her lips off his cock.

Eira repeated this process for a couple more times, keeping John just on the edge. John went crazy each time, needing release. Eira got up from John's bed, saying in her sultry voice, "You need to obey. It's time." Eira put a pair of chunky glasses on John's face.

In the lens of the glasses was a screen. The screen swirled around hypnotically, changing colors and moving in patterns. Eira's voice came from everywhere and nowhere. "From now on, you exist to please me. My orgasm comes before yours. My needs before your own. I am your savior, your world. You are my sex slave, willingly and gladly. I am your mistress."

Eira took the glasses off John's face. "Do you understand me?" Eira asked. John looked up at Eira's face. Eira was John's savior, his world. John existed to please her. John existed to give her what she wanted, fulfill her needs, give her orgasms. John was gladly and willingly her sex slave. John looked into Eira's eyes with adoration on his face.

He responded, "Yes, Mistress."