Chapter 18
A car alarm was blaring outside.
Seb groaned, blinking as daylight invaded his heavy head. He sat up in a groggy stupor, shooting a hateful glare through his window and placing a silent curse on the vehicle's owner. This had happened at least twice a month since Seb had moved into the building—either someone's car was on the fritz, or there was an incompetent and unusually persistent thief on the loose. Whatever the case, Seb hoped the saga would end soon. It was by far his least favorite way to wake up on a Saturday. At least Ben was still gone—that meant Seb would have some peace and quiet to himself while he rebooted. It was strange though: he didn't recall drinking
that
much at the movie night before...
His eyes snapped open as the cluttered memories clicked back into place. Last night. Sophia. The Vox. It all came hurtling back like a violently vivid dream. His heart raced, confused excitement surging through his aching body, desperate for direction. Yet as he scanned the cramped dorm room, that exhilaration began to curdle into panic.
He was alone: Sophia was nowhere to be seen.
Had he dreamt it all? Was last night just a product of his drunk, fantasy-frazzled imagination?
No, that wasn't right: his sore body and drowsy head couldn't be pinned on alcohol and wet dreams alone. It sure felt like he had been through a night of Vox-laced fucking—but if that was the case, then where was his slave?
His slave. Seb blinked, realizing how effortlessly, how naturally he had thought of her that way. Tiny chills danced from his neck to his fingertips. The sensation wasn't entirely unpleasant. Even if it was just a consequence of the Vox's influence, the thought didn't send him into an existential panic. In fact, what was so remarkable was how mundane it was. Of course he was thinking with the Vox—the Vox was a part of him. It recognizing Sophia as his slave was the same as his stomach recognizing that he was hungry. Or his cock that he was horny.
Still...her absence was concerning. Seb winced, his legs throbbing in protest as he slid off the bed and searched for his phone. He had to get in touch with Sophia. There was a chance her conditioning was incomplete or hampered in some way. It was also possible, Seb realized with a twinge of dread, that she had rejected her programming entirely. The Vox rumbled with annoyance, assuring him that the odds of that were slim. Still, it spiked his search with additional urgency.
The cool morning air pressed against his naked body as he fished through his discarded clothes. It occurred to him to throw on his bathrobe, but that too seemed to be missing. Which was strange, as he usually left it hanging on the hook right next to the d—
The door clicked open, revealing Sophia on the other side. Her eyes widened with mild, pleasant surprise as they met Seb's.
"Oh! Morning, Master," she said. "You're finally up." She stepped inside, not seeming to mind Seb's open gawking. His plastic toiletries carrier dangled in her hand, his towel draped around her neck and his bathrobe straining to contain her ample, jiggling curves as she turned and closed the door.
"G-good morning," he uttered in belated reply.
She smiled, setting the carrier and towel on his desk before undoing the cloth belt around her waist. "I hope you don't mind that I borrowed all this," she said, letting the robe slide apart without a moment's hesitation. Her bare skin glowed in the sunlight, and it took Seb a full beat to realize she was offering the robe to him and awaiting a response.
"Uh, it's all good," Seb replied, sliding his arms through the sleeves. "How are you feeling?"
"Great!" she chirped, absently running her hands up her hips and over her breasts, pausing only to tweak her already-stiff nipples. "A little horny, but I've been that way all morning. I thought about waking you up with a blowjob—y'know, classic sex-slave stuff—but I wasn't sure if you wanted to sleep longer. So I figured I'd go ahead and freshen up instead, make sure I was ready for..."Her gaze lowered slightly. "Whenever you...wanna use me again..."
Seb followed her sightline, and realized she was staring past the open robe at his hardened cock, straining the air on full display. Curiously, he didn't feel any embarrassment or anxiety as she slid to her knees, gazing up at him with open-mouthed lust. Still, there was a faint surreality clinging to the moment, a lingering sense of disbelief Seb couldn't quite shake.
"So..." Seb swallowed. "When you say 'use,' you mean..."
"My body, my mind. Anything you want." Sophia shivered. "God, just saying that made me, like, twice as horny. This is so, so crazy."
Seb hesitated, still caught between the urges to check Sophia's mental state and face-fuck her senseless. "But...crazy in a good way, right?" he ventured, gently cupping her face.
"Mm, very good," she answered, nuzzling his hand. Then as if sensing his trepidation, she tensed. "Oh, sorry, got a little ahead of myself." She stood, crossing over to his desk before bending over and spreading her legs, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she wiggled her hips. "If you'd rather just do me like this, that's fine too. Pretty sure I literally can't say 'no' at this point, so..." she laughed. Her exposed pussy glistened.
Seb took a step forward, tempted, only to hiss as his thigh muscles clenched.
"Are you okay?" his slave moved to assist him, her expression immediately awash with concern.
"It's fine," Seb collapsed into his desk chair, "Think I'm a little tapped out for the moment. Can we...just talk for a sec?"
"Sure. Whatever you want, Master," Sophia replied pleasantly. Still, as Seb collected himself, he couldn't help but notice the way she was leaning against his desk, her body squirming with restless energy, her thighs shifting and squeezing together.
"You can play with yourself if you want to," Seb offered.
His slave let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Master," she said, hoisting herself onto the desk and spreading her legs. She ran her fingers over her tongue before lowering them between her thighs, a quiet moan escaping her as she started rubbing. Still, it didn't take long for her attention to fall back onto Seb, her expression a mixture of contentment and mild curiosity that he was beginning to recognize as a slave awaiting her next orders.
"You're okay to talk like this, right?" he asked.
"Uh-huh," Sophia nodded, pausing to pinch her nipple and let a gasp of pleasure run through her. "You know I'm a great multi-tasker."
"True," Seb nodded. He did know, and that—he decided—was the source of his bemusement. Even as she had solidified as a slave in his mind, this was still definitely the same Sophia he had grown up with. In fact, even while masturbating openly for him, the tone and tenor of her voice was much closer to how it used to be, before their falling out. There was none of the uncertainty or evasiveness that had infected their more recent interactions. In a weird way, Sophia's frank acceptance of her enslavement was almost a throwback to the simple, earnest friendship they once shared. With some obvious, major differences.
Seb looked up, and realized Sophia was staring at him with a quizzical expression, even as her fingers continued their languid circuits. "Is everything okay?" she asked.
"Yeah it's just..." he exhaled. "I'm relieved that you're still you."
She paused for a moment, then smiled. "You mean you're glad I didn't end up like, lobotomized or something."
