She prowled the domicile, angry, bored.
Hungry.
When would he be back?
Fuck him, she thought. I should have killed him when I had the chance.
Maybe next time I will!
She laughed to herself in the darkness, a hoarse, jagged laugh.
Abruptly she fell silent. She drank some of her water. She looked at the remains of some food he had brought her, half of a sandwich from some shitty chain and some potato chips. She picked the sandwich up, and absentmindedly took a bit and chewed it. She tasted none of it.
She dropped it back down onto the wax paper.
She walked over to the front door, and put her hand on the handle. It was brass, smooth, and warm.
She put her hand back down.
She noticed her hand was shaking again. Her head was starting to hurt, and the spots were starting to reappear in her vision. She gagged, and felt the terrible sandwich threaten to come back up.
She needed him to come back soon.
******************************
After what seemed like forever, the wall split open with the angry cold fire of the portals that he could create between worlds. He stepped through it, holding a paper bag and a small case. He put those on the floor, and walked over to where she stood, naked, her hands folded over her breasts, shaking despite the warmth.
He regarded her silently with his black eyes.
She stared up at him, her face a mixture of pain, and fear, with some defiance.
Without a word, he slapped her in the face with his oversized hand, hard.
She cried out as she fell to her knees.
"You know what you need to do," was all he said, and she began to fumble at his belt, ripping his pants open. His long, thick cock fell out, and without a word, she sucked him into her mouth.
Like a starving woman, she pulled on his cock with her mouth and lips, sucking desperately as his enormous phallus grew larger and more rigid. She looked up at him, towering above her, slurping and moaning on him.
Her pussy erupted with wetness as she pulled him in and out of her lips. His face was blank, expressionless as he looked down at her.
"Grind yourself into the ground," he demanded quietly, and she spread her legs and began to rub her cunt into to the cold, hard floor. It felt good to debase herself for him, and she slipped a finger into her sopping pussy as she sucked. She reached up, and gripped his cock at the root completely with her entire hand, his enormous cock still providing her with a tremendous amount of length to suck on.
She closed her eyes and sucked harder, faster. She began to orgasm from her fingers rubbing over her clit. But that wasn't what she needed- she needed his cum, she needed to drink from his dick.
She began to moan as she orgasmed, a high, whining moan of a desperate woman in need.
"Good girl," he said, and like a benevolent god, he began to squirt jets of warm seed into her mouth. She slurped and drank from his dick, gulp after gulp, her body shaking with orgasm after each swallow. He came far more than any other man she had ever seen, cumming for almost an incredible length of time- three minutes? Five minutes? She closed her eyes, lost in time, drinking everything that his cock had to offer her.
She opened her eyes as the spasming of his cock in her mouth slowed, her orgasm subsiding, her fingers falling out of her pussy and limply onto the floor. Her moans became more quiet and gentle, subsiding into contentment as she licked and rolled her tongue around his dick, searching for any last drops.
Finally he grabbed her hair and pulled her mouth off his cock. He walked over to the table. She watched his long dick swinging low between his legs, almost down to his knees as he went.
A warmth spread over her, a gentle peace overcame her. Her hands quit shaking, her head cleared. She felt right, like everything was as it should be again.
He took a seat at the simple wooden table.
"What have you done to me," she said quietly, wiping her lips, looking at the floor.
"I've made some changes to you," he said. "I might have done a more gentle job, but when you attacked me, I had to speed the process up. But essentially, you will die if you don't get that. You'll go insane and die in great pain if you don't get what comes out of my dick."
She made a barely audible word of protest.
"You'll be a slave to me," he went on. "You'll be my fist, my hammer. We'll go back to Earth soon, and you are going to be a good and obedient little slave. I also made changes to you that will make you follow my orders without much question, but even if you find the strength to resist me somehow, you'll soon come crawling back to get my cum in you somewhere, because the pain will grow to be too much for you otherwise. You'll crawl, and beg, and debase yourself in any way I want in order to get what you need."
"Oh god."
"When we are back home, you'll be as strong as you ever were. Don't worry about that. You'll be able to fly again, and you'll be my little avenging angel, flying to do my bidding. But despite your strength, you won't be able to hurt me. I made sure of that."
She said nothing.
"I, though, will be able to hurt
you
. I'll be able to hurt you just fine, and that's what I'm going to do, hurt and humiliate you until you learn to never question me, to only obey. Like I say, I might have been more gentle about this- I might have been more lenient. But your little attack on me means that your enslavement will be the most brutal it can be, and when I'm done with you, I'll discard you like you were nothing."
He kicked the bag that he had brought across the floor over towards her.
"Put that on. That is what you wear now."
She pulled the garments out of the bag and looked at them in the dim light.
"Say 'thank you'", he told her.
"Thank you."
"You stupid bitch. I don't think it's right to call you 'the Power' anymore, do you? That doesn't seem right. What do you think?"
She looked at him, her eyes begging him.
"I said what do you think."
"No," she said meekly, stepping into the clothing.
"No what."
"No, I'm not the Power. It wouldn't be right to call me that."
"And why not," he said, standing up, his cock swinging low between his legs as he came to stand towering over her.
She lowered her head.
"Because I'm a slave. I'm your slave."
******************************
Lynda arrived at work on Monday morning, fresh and ready for the week. She put her key in the door of the office, and opened it up. She stepped in, turning on the lights.
She went to her computer, and turned it on, walking in to the kitchenette to get a pot of coffee ready. She made an entire pot, in case any visitors came to the office, although no one had come by for weeks. When the coffee was done brewing, she poured herself a cup, added her creamer to it, and sat down at her desk.
She opened the work email account.
Nothing.
She checked the voice mail.
Nothing.
She sipped at her coffee. She opened up a web browser, and began to read the newspaper online.
The police were saying that the Red Eyes killing were over, she read. The details were few, but police were saying that the killer himself was dead, and that the murders were considered to be over. The mayor's office expressed thanks for the hard work of the City's police force, and urged the citizens to return to the calm of before the Red Eyes killer.
Well, that's good, she thought. I need to tell John and Amanda.
There was a knock on the door.
Startled, she put her coffee down. She went to the door, and opened it.
There was a very tall man there, in a grey suit and sunglasses, holding out a wallet with a badge on it. Next to him was a silver haired woman, who looked uncomfortable, as if she would rather be somewhere else.
No real surprise, Lynda thought. She's not wearing any clothing.
The woman was dressed in a high pair of boots, almost up to her knees. The woman also had on a bottom that was little more than what a bikini bottom would be, although made of a silvery metallic material. Her large breasts were covered by a simple and narrow metallic band that barely covered her nipples, Lynda thought, and was too tight, smashing the woman's breasts into her chest.
The only other thing the woman was wearing was a collar around her neck.
