Losers Can't Be Choosers

Chapter 2 - "Princess Ashley" Wants to Play

The hallway leading to Angela's office had a secret, one that very few people could easily grasp.

Lined with uneven mirrors on each side, it reflected the patient's visages in odd angles, slightly defocused images of themselves. It also bounced off every speck of light in a subdued fashion, one specifically geared to target the subconscious. Adding to that, the combination of repetitive patterns on the carpet under their feet made sure that anyone that traversed it reached the end of the corridor calmer than prior to entering it.

It's not like Jonah needed any of that though. He was already as relaxed as one can be, his trance state deepened by gentle whispers and occasional jarring constructs. Angela was surprised at how suggestible he turned out to be although she shouldn't have. Heightened susceptibility appeared to be a family trait. After all, she had begun as a subject herself and her therapist made sure to remark how easy it was to work with her at every possible chance.

Gregory Kendall was his name and she had nothing but good memories of him. During her college years, the mid-fifties widower had helped her cope with a sleeping disorder whilst also awakening some kinky facets of her personality she didn't even know they were there. Unethical? Perhaps, but Gregory was far from a creep and he never manipulated her thoughts into wanting to do something she didn't really want. Their time together as lovers was brief yet filled with excitement to last for a lifetime or more and, by the end of it, she had reincarnated as a much more confident person with a few extra tricks under her sleeve.

She led her mesmerized brother down the corridor and opened the door to her inner sanctum. Her secretary - Gail - was still on her lunch break and her next appointment was only due in three hours. They had plenty of time to get things done.

Locking the door behind her, Angela tossed her high heels to the side, looked at Jonah from top to bottom and commanded:

"On your knees."

The gymnast complied with utmost grace for it was a position he was already used to. It was strange to see him like that. It was also hot.

"You may be a useless loser but at least you still know how to follow orders. That's good. Now thank me."

"Thank you, Angie."

"Now then, you filthy prick, it's time for you and I to have a serious chat. Explain to me again why do you want to get rid of your fetish. Don't hold anything back."

"Because it's consuming me. I like what I feel but I'm feeling it too much. It's affecting my way to function properly as a human being as well as putting a dent on my finances I can't really afford right now. I can't sit by and watch my money burn like that."

"Don't you mean their money, Jonah?"

"What?"

"Don't play the dumb card, dear brother. You want to experience the thrill only sex workers can provide but then you feel guilty because you spent money on them, money that was rightfully theirs to begin with for the services provided. You want fun, you pay for it, pure and simple. This isn't really about your finances. It's about you being a selfish bastard deep inside, isn't that right?"

"No! I have no problem paying them but I'm addicted! I don't want to be addicted which is why I asked you for help. Will you help me?"

"Hmmm, let's see... I have you kneeling in front of me right now and your mind is utterly receptive to everything I tell you no matter what. What do you think I'm going to do with that?"

"I..."

"Do you really want me to help you or shall I enslave you, hmmm? Think about it. Wouldn't it be nice if you were to become a living, breathing, and humiliated horny toy in service to me for the rest of your life? In trance, everything is even more intense and if I were to give you the thrills you crave so much right now... Think about it. Think about being a cumslut for your baby sister. Think about being dragged by a collar and leash on the street for everyone to see while I call you names and spit on your face. Think about being locked in a cage, right here in this office, while I tend to my clients and we all laugh. Think about it. Don't you just love those thoughts?"

Jonah's eyelids fluttered as his subconscious tried to process the disturbing flow of information. "No... I...," he muttered.

"What did you just say?"

"I said no."

Angela's beautiful smile turned into a diabolical grin. "That's too bad because you're nothing but a fucking loser and losers can't be choosers. What you think you want right now is not what you are going to think when we're done. 'Go diaper' now *snap* and 'diaper' still *snap*, focused only on the sound of my voice. How many women have you surrendered your humilation fantasies to?"

"Far too many."

"Tell me about one. Your most recent one. Or better yet, show her to me," Angela pointed at her cerulean laptop. "Move it, fuckpet!"

Jonah crawled to her desk, his numb fingers hitting the keyboard. The screen exploded in shades of pink and black, emblazoned by a logo depicting a stiletto boot crushing a pair of withered male genitals. A pair of impossible crystalline eyes flashed in the center before giving way to a video containing a selection of clip excerpts, each one more demeaning than the one that came before. PrincessAshleyOwnsYourCock.com was sleek and proud of its ego crushing design, a perfectly tailored business for the extreme fetishist.

Angela took a moment to apreciate her style. "Ashley" was very young indeed but the production values on display were top notch and it wasn't hard to see how one's libido could be skillfully manipulated just by looking at her for a few minutes.

"So this is your thing, huh?" she smirked. "I'm not surprised and neither will you. Eyes on me now!"

Jonah froze in place, looking at her. The part of him that remained aware of what was happening slowly began to fade.

"Do not avert your gaze. 'Diaper' *snap* and 'diaper' *snap*, all of your thoughts melting away. 'Diaper' *snap* and 'diaper' still, no escape possible. In a moment, your eyes will defocus, everything will become a blur. You will not be aware of your surroundings, you will not be aware of anything at all. You will remain in this lethargic state until I snap my fingers again at which point you'll see only what I want you to see and hear only what I want you to hear. When I snap my fingers again, you'll see me as Princess Ashley, it will be as if she's right here with you, playing with you, and fucking your mind silly. You love Princess Ashley, you love to be her little bitch and that's exactly what you will be. My figure will be her figure, my voice will be her voice, you'll see me the way you would like to see her and the more you obey her commands, the more addicted and enslaved you will become, is that clear?"

"Yes, Angie."

"Wonderful. Keep your eyes fixed on me as the name Angela begins to disappear. Angela isn't here, only Ashley. Angela doesn't control you, only Ashley does. You are Ashley's mindfucked puppet. She's your Princess, your Goddess, your everything. You live to serve Ashley, you live to work and grovel for Ashley. Feel your eyes losing focus now, the world losing focus... There's nothing and no one but Ashley, there's nothing and no one but Ashley, there's nothing and no one but Ashley..."

*Snap*

Jonah blinked, his resurfacing thoughts still in a daze. What had just happened? In a moment, he was talking to his sister on the phone and in the next...

A pair of varnished thigh-high boots appeared before his eyes. He had seen them once in a sexy mini video called "A Bootfucker Comes My Way," a masterpiece of erotic humiliation created by none other than

"Oh, my God, Princess?" he blurted as his eyes moved upwards. There she was, a corseted deity, the most powerful woman to have ever lived. It was a dream, it had to be. She didn't do live sessions so how could she...?"

"Took you long enough to respond to my presence, fucktard." she grinned. "I see you're already kneeling but did I tell you you could do that? Did I, asshole?"

"No, Princess, I don't think you..."

"You definitely shouldn't think because only real people are allowed to do that. You haven't forgotten you aren't a real human, have you? You are nothing but a worthless pig to me. Oink, little piggy. Oink for your Princess."

He didn't hesitate, the sounds of debasement coming out in perfect harmony. He was a good pig, and a good dog, and a good cockroach, and whatever animal a superior woman such as herself wanted him to be. He squirmed on the floor as his raging erection grew harder than expected.

"Look at you. You are even more pathetic than I remembered, aren't you? Tell me how pathetic you are, pig."

"I'm the most pathetic idiot on the face of the Earth, Princess."

"That's it?" she scoffed. "Come on, filthy slave, you can and you need to do a lot better than that to please me! Let me hear you grovel properly. How pathetic are you?"

"On a scale of 1 to 10, I go all the way to infinite. I'm so pathetic that I'm not even good enough to be your carpet. You should throw me to the nearest trash can as soon as you have the chance."

"That's better but why should I bother risking a perfectly good manicure when I can simply order you to enter the trash yourself? Trash is good for a pig, you will do anything for me."

"Yes, Princess Ashley."

"Louder, slave."

"Yes, Princess Ashley. I will do anything for you."

"I said louder, didn't I? Louder, slave!"

"I WILL DO ANYTHING FOR YOU, PRINCESS ASHLEY!"

"Let's test that then. 'Diaper' *snap* and 'diaper' *snap*, more 'diaper' than what your feeble mind is capable of comprehending. Your language is gone, your individuality is gone, you're nothing but a masturbating machine for me now. You will grab that disgusting appendage you like to pretend it's a cock and you will stroke it as hard as you can until you cum. When you do, you are to lick your load clean and then repeat the process. You will do this non-stop, no resistance, no will of your own. You're right, you're not even good enough to be a carpet so walking all over you won't make me happy. Seeing you engorge yourself on the other hand... 'diaper' *snap* and 'diaper' *snap*... do as I command, you know you have to."

Again, Jonah found himself complying though his reactions were slower this time around. Both his eyes twitched, a spark of anger curled his lips outwards. Princess wanted him to stroke so he would stroke. He would stroke and cum, he would eat the... he would eat the...

Frantic fingers rubbed the shaft, sweaty hands fought each other for possession. The friction spiralled out of control, red skin slipping. Princess Ashley had to be obeyed... Princess Ashley had to be...

He exploded before her eyes even before realizing he had done do, white semen wrapped around his nails like cotton candy. Angela would have to throw the carpet away when they were done but it was for a good cause. Continuing to look down at him, she pointed one finger to the biggest pool of filth.

"Every. Single. Drop!"

Jonah lapped at it, dry tongue resenting the exposure. The taste was awful, a bitter reminder that his real feelings were not as extreme as the fantasies he sometimes envisioned. Why was he doing that again? Princess had told him so and he wanted to obey Princess, he needed to obey Princess no matter what. Every single drop pulled him 'diaper' and that was a truth he couldn't escape from. 'Diaper' *slurp*, 'diaper' *slurp*, 'diaper'...

"What in God's name is happening here?" A woman screamed, interrupting the scene. Jonah's trance wavered, reality shifting for a second or two. He closed his mouth, swallowed, and cried. The perfect embodiment of Princess Ashley imprinted in his mind cracked like a mirror, allowing his sister to appear again. She seemed surprised, yet the initial shock disappeared the moment she opened her beautiful mouth to say:

"Hi, Mom."