Author's note: This is the third in the "
Collection
" series. If you haven't read the first two, the first five paragraphs are a synopsis of the prior two stores. The new story begins in the sixth paragraph. I hope you enjoy reading Brandi's adventures as much as I enjoy writing them.
*
It had been a year and a half since Master had reclaimed Brandi as his sex slave and commissioned her with the responsibility of making him the perfect life. Brandi had done well. Her Master had given her the device he had built to remake minds. She had used it to make him rich, buy him a massive home, recruit dozens of hot girls to be his personal harem, and protected him from every possible threat.
She had built a sexual empire for him. Every fantasy that he had was met with extreme enthusiasm: bound girls whipped and fucked, tit-jobs culminating in cum-covered faces and chests, Master's dick shoved in the back of a bitch's throat, French maids, cheerleaders, schoolgirl costumes, leather, and even a captive princess. Master's favorite was the collection of superhero characters that he regularly fucked: Sometimes as a hero, receiving a much-earned reward, and sometimes as the villain, conquering and dominating. Brandi built it all for him, all the while waking him up every morning with a blowjob—it was her favorite part of the day.
Brandi had encouraged Master to find what would make him happy. Master had made a video game, which a company had bought, and had worked for the last year to finish it. Sometimes he would work for several hours, locked in his computer room. Sometimes he did the same, but with a slut's mouth around his dick as he worked.
Last year, Brandi had given her Master a throne for his birthday. He had returned with gifting her a tiara and naming her "Queen of the Whores". It was a title she wore with pride every day. She would often wear the tiara throughout the day, because Master liked seeing her in it. He had artfully bridged the gap of honoring her as special while ensuring that she remained a degraded sex toy for his pleasure. Despite any rewards or honor that he bestowed on her, she was still his bitch. When it came to getting Master off, Brandi had no dignity to defend. She would wrap her tits around his dick and jerk him off with them, while telling him in perfect detail how much of a filthy, worthless slut she was. She would shove his dick into the back of her throat, knowing the sounds of her gagging made him hornier. She would ride his dick with her pussy, displaying her bouncing tits for him and telling him that servicing his dick is the only thing that she wanted in life. Degradation made Master horny and Brandi's life purpose was to make him happy. Nothing else in the world mattered.
Brandi felt a wholeness in her that was more than just because Master stuffed every one of her holes regularly. This was her purpose and she was fulfilling it. There was nothing more fulfilling that having found purpose in life and working in that purpose.
It was Master's birthday—one year after Brandi had given him a throne—and she had something just as special in mind this time. She had spent ten months preparing. She had visited thirty different corrupt CEO's to acquire the money. She had spent afternoons away from Master's mansion, overseeing the work. It took millions of dollars, hundreds of hours of Brandi's time, and thousands of hours of workers' time, but she bought Master the top six floors of one of the high rises in the city.
Master's Mansion was in the suburbs and, despite two expansions for additional slut housing, had become overcrowded. The high rise dedicated the top two floors to Master's living, the third-from-top for roleplaying scenarios, and then three levels for housing of sluts. If they ran out of space, Brandi could simply buy the next level down and keep expanding.
It was impossible to keep the secret from Master, of course. Brandi couldn't simply disappear from him and not explain why. It would make him unhappy. But Master was pleased when he heard and very excited—so excited he had climbed on top of her and drilled her pussy for only a minute or so before cumming inside her.
They kept the mansion, of course. Master could decide to stay wherever he wanted, but he would have options. Brandi always feared that Master would begin to feel cooped up in the Mansion. Now he wouldn't have to.
On Master's birthday, most of the sluts got up before him and went to the highrise. Brandi held only a skeleton crew that morning of seven sluts: A blonde, brunette, and a redhead (so Master could have his pick if he was in a mood), Michelle (the best cook among the sluts for Master's breakfast), the Rigel twins (Master had renamed them "Slut A" and "Slut B" and they had been a favorite of his for a couple months), and Brandi. Brandi blew Master awake, the sluts served breakfast, and they left.
The sluts had to be street-ready at least, so after Slut A jerked off Master onto Slut B's tits and then licked it off of her while staring hungrily at Master, all seven girls changed into skimpy black dresses. They got out of the limo at the curb and Master led the parade of hot women in matching, revealing clothes into the lobby. He was the envy of every man in view. Brandi marched next to him and Master's hand rested firmly and unmistakably on her ass. It was glorious.
A special keycard was necessary to get onto the top floors. When the door opened, Master gasped.
They entered into the living floor. A massive TV filled one wall, with a large couch directed towards it—video gaming was always a priority to Master. The couch had five brunettes on it, each in matching red lace lingerie. The opposite wall had five glass insets, with stripper poles inside. In each, one of Master's sluts was dancing nude. The wall between was a massive window pointing out to the water. The high rise was wide and other amenities scattered the floor: A bar, where Master's tattooed bartender Erin was topless and ready to serve. There was a pool table, with two blondes in tiny tight shorts and black lace bras. There was a hot tub in one corner, with a redhead and two blondes in skimpy bikinis giggling in the water. The floors were black marble and colored lights gave the room a blue hue. It was sleek, sexy, and screamed "big shot in the big city". Brandi knew Master was pleased.
The cherry on the cake, of course, was that aside from the tattooed bartender (who Master kept around as "eye candy", but never got around to fucking), every slut was new. Brandi had scoured Instagram models, college sororities, and dating sites, looking for girls that matched Master's preferences. They were skinny, but not too athletic. Their tits were big and perky. A few of them had nice asses that Master might like to fuck, but that wasn't a requirement for admission. Because Brandi cast a wide net, she could afford to be selective. Every girl's face was undeniably beautiful.
What they hadn't been naturally gifted with, Brandi supplied. She indoctrinated each new girl with Master's device, rewriting their priorities and their personality. They were now fucktoys—specifically Master's fucktoys. Their purpose in life was his sexual pleasure. He would fuck them however and whenever he wanted. They would take orders without question and their bodies existed for his pleasure. Brandi coached them in what dirty talk Master liked, how to display themselves most appealingly for him, and how to work away at their gag reflex so that Master could fuck their throats as deeply as he wanted. There were fifteen new girls total, displayed around the room like works of art. Each one was a masterpiece. If Brandi wasn't entirely focused on her Master's pleasure, she might have even been jealous.
Master walked around the room, running his hand along the couch and the bitches seated on it. They leaned back, allowing his freer access over their bodies. One even licked her lips suggestively at him. Probably a bit too forward, Brandi thought, but it demonstrated her sluttiness sufficiently.
Master approached one of the blondes—Becca, if Brandi remembered correctly—at the pool table. He put his hands on her hips, spun her around, and bent her over the table. He delivered three sharp smacks across her ass—this was one of the sluts that had a fuckable ass. Becca moaned, the sound mixing pleasure and pain. Master turned to the other blonde and ordered her to go get him a beer. She hurried off and returned in a minute with the beer. Master had stood up Becca and was feeling her tits. She was smiling invitingly up at Master as he squeezed and played. Master took the beer without looking away from Becca.
Master took his finger and put it on Becca's lips. Immediately, Becca's tongue emerged and swirled around the finger, while she looked Master straight in the eyes. Becca took the finger into her mouth, easily pressing her lips against Master's knuckle.
