The next day, Sheila woke in her own bed, struggling to recall the events of the previous day. Blackouts were no mystery to her. In fact, given how shaken up she had been, a black out sleep had been just what she was aiming for. It was the dreams that unsettled her. Normally, her blackouts were like a light switch. The memories turned off at some point and then she woke up. No messy remnants of the night before. That was not the case this morning. She was alone in her own bed, which was a good sign, but still oh so incredibly horny. She was naked and felt like she was in need of a shower. Persistent visions of herself getting fucked kept playing through her head, a dream that wouldn't stop. She reached down between her legs and found herself wet.
All thought fled as she began to idly finger herself. The blossoming warmth and electricity that her manipulations were sending through her were beyond anything she had felt in the past. She felt as if she could do this forever and began to rub faster, urging herself on toward an explosive orgasm. She rubbed faster and, becoming even more impatient for what felt like it must be an explosive orgasm, she began using her other hand, sticking two fingers as far as she could into her pussy. It wasn't enough, however, and, rubbing faster and pushing harder, she began to wonder if she needed to pull some of her toys out to do the job.
"Oh, that just won't do, my pet." Sheila froze, as she recognized the voice from the plane. The voice of the demon who claimed to own her, coming from right inside her own room. Her fingers stopped their efforts, desire evaporating as her heart began to race and her eyes widened and darted about.
Sitting bolt upright in her bed, Sheila looked frantically around the room. Seeing and sensing none, she scanned the room. "Who's there?" she said voice wavering, shrill with panic.
"Who do you think, my dear one? I'm never far away." The voice was deep and calm, soothing almost, were it not for the terrifying fear of the unknown.
"Where are you?"
"Why I'm inside you. Haven't you figured that out by now." The tone changed to one of slight amusement. "Come to the mirror. That usually makes things easier for your kind."
Hesitantly, she rose out of bed and walked toward her mirror, still naked. It took an effort of will to actually look at it. The reflection looking back at her was her's, sort of, but she looked different. Her image looked back at her, but did not follow her movements. It moved of its own accord, with eyes ablaze, as if on fire.
"Hello, my Pet." her image said to her through the mirror.
She stared, uncomprehending, for a long while. "Oh, shit. I'm insane. Or tripping or something. What the fuck is happening to me?" Her eyes grew wide, whites dominating, as her pupils constricted in panic.
"Calm the fuck down!" the other her demanded. "You are mine now and you will obey!"
Through the fear that seemed to squeeze her heart and make it beat faster at the same time, a different sensation arose. A familiar tingling in her loins, a deep ache to be filled washed over her, burying the fear. The stark terror that had held her was now merely a nagging concern being pushed into the background by a powerful yearning. She felt herself become wet, her nipples hardening, and she had to resist the urge to touch herself. Humiliated that she could be so easily controlled by her sexual hunger, she involuntarily stole a quick glance a the drawer where she kept her vibrator, before tensing all her muscles and forced herself to look back at the mirror.
"Ah, I like a bit of resistance. It tends to make the victory all the sweeter." The image in the mirror smiled and idly played with its large, shapely breasts, alternately kneading and stroking them. Sheila could feel those hands on her breasts, causing her breath to quicken. She felt a trickle of her wetness roll down the inside of one thigh.
"I am going to enjoy using you. Making you debase yourself. You will become my vessel of desire. If you are lucky, you will learn to enjoy it, for you will have a sexual power that will be unmatched. If you continue to resist, you will probably go insane. Either way, it makes no difference to me; my purposes will be served." The image moved one of its hands down between its legs and used one finger to lightly tap on its clit.
To Sheila, it felt as if a powerful vibrator were being pressed against her clitoris. She literally began dripping from between her legs and she grew desperate for release. The scent of her arousal filled the room, but, though she felt that she was on the edge of orgasm, it remained just out of reach, driving her wild with frustration. Her vagina cried out to be filled and she longed for a cock inside her, instinctively knowing that that would be the only way she could come. Her body seemed torn between this devouring need and the shame at submitting to this thing's will. As if reading her mind, it spoke again.
"I've got eternity, Bitch. How long do you want to stay like this. Go over to the drawer and get your favorite toy."
To Sheila's credit, she held out for about 10 seconds, eye locked onto the pair of burning coals that looked back. Then, realizing that her will was failing, she walked to the drawer and withdrew an 8 inch vibrator. It was flesh colored and made of a soft, rubbery material that approximated the feel of skin. Its head was large and bulbous, the shaft curved upwards slightly and there was a clitoral stimulator at the base.
"Sit on the bed facing me. Legs spread to I can see that cunt and slide that dildo over your tits."
Flushing with a mixture of lust and shame, she sat on the bed and opened her legs, displaying her soaking cunt for the image in the mirror. She used the head and shaft of her vibrator to caress her breasts and play lightly over her stiff nubs. The sensation gave her impossible waves of pleasure that caused her to gasp.
"That's my good girl. Now suck on it. Put that thing in your mouth and slobber over it like you did with that Gypsy's cock."
Though she longed to stuff the vibrator deep into her pussy, she was now completely within the thrall of whatever this creature was. Her excitement was now beyond any sort of rational thought, as she put as much of the fake penis into her mouth as she could making herself gag. She drooled over it, feeling further humiliation from the wanton display she was putting on. She imagined it was his cock, the man from the alley, and that his hands held her head and he was forcing her, shoving himself roughly into her mouth. The shame was becoming part of the desire now, the act of submission, the feeling of being controlled honing her lust to an unearthly sharpness. She was so hot, so close to cumming, and she would do anything, submit to any humiliation, for the orgasm that she knew was coming.
"Excellent. You are a born slut. I'll make sure you are used by many, many cocks. Now fuck yourself with that. Keep looking at me while you bring yourself to orgasm."
Eager to obey, she took the shiny, wet vibrator from her mouth and shoved into her hungry pussy. The feeling of fullness inside of her was bliss as she quickly moved the toy in and out of her. Leaning back on the bed to get a better angle, her free hand gripped the bed spread, while her eyes struggled to keep the commanded eye contact, the pleasure forcing them to roll upward as the first wave of orgasm hit. The walls of her vagina contracted around the silicone phallus and spasmed while she continued to violently fuck herself, sending ripples of ecstasy throughout her body.
As the orgasm subsided, the shame moved to the forefront, as well as the fear. She now realized that she was helpless against this desire that was stirring within her. Looking into the mirror, the image was gone and she saw herself on her bed, legs spread and the vibrator still deep inside her. Her wetness had soaked the bed spread beneath her and was already turning cold. With the cold came an emptiness and she hung her head and wept, not knowing whether she longed to be free or if she longed for the thing to come back.
Confused at the conflicting emotions that swirled inside her, she took a long, hot shower and then dressed in the most frumpy clothes she could find. This turned out to be an oversized black sweater over a plain t-shirt and baggy, blue sweatpants. Reluctant to leave her room, but ravenous from going all day without food, she sulked down the stairs and into the kitchen. She piled a small feast on her plate, grabbed a few beers and quickly returned to her room without incident.
She began stuffing food into her face, suddenly ravenous, and opened her laptop, surfing the web and trying to regain some sense of normalcy. The unreality of the situation just wouldn't let her go, however, and the gnawing fear and deep yearning, of those fire-bright eyes upon her, continued to vie for her attention. She clicked through page after page of the internet, her eyes barely registering the web sites that glowed from the screen in front of her. It wasn't until, checking through her emails, that something caught her attention. It was from Benjamin, the head of their house staff. The heading read, "Had a great time last night. You look great on camera."
Confused, she opened the email. All that it said was, "Text me after you watch this." There was a video file attached. She clicked on it and felt a new panic blossoming in her gut as she watched herself performing a lewd striptease. She didn't recognize the room she was in, but that was clearly her taking off her clothing, piece by piece, acting the part of cheap stripper. At first, she was mesmerized, and couldn't help thinking how sexy she looked as she bared herself to some unknown camera man. Then the fact that she had no recollection of doing this and one of their staff had this video of her in his possession struck her in a visceral way. Dread thudded into her stomach, making it clench and threatening to expel all the food she had just eaten. It took her a few moments (and chugging two beers) to calm her breathing and get some control of her anxiety.
Not knowing what else to do, she texted the number in the email. "What is this?"
A few minutes later, her phone pinged and she opened the reply text. "I think you saw what this is and if you don't want it on the internet you'll be at my place for round 2. 9PM. Don't be late."
Sheila stared numbly at her phone for several moments, trying to work out this new twist in her life. "What was happening?" she wondered, "Round two?" She stayed in her room for the entire day, alternately pacing the floor and sitting on her bed staring into space. Her mind raced through possibilities and what-ifs. Twice, she stood in front of her mirror and pleaded with the vision she had seen before, but it never appeared. All she saw was herself, disheveled and drawn from worry, until she found herself looking at her luscious tits and had to turn away to stop the persistent thoughts of sex.
