Slave Simone watched the last moments of her daughter’s enslavement, struck with awe. Without slave 251 in the way she could see all of her daughter’s wonderful naked body. Her tits. Her cunt. Her ass. Her empty eyes. So fucking hot. Suddenly all she could think about was all the ways Cora would be used now. She was a sex toy. She was a lap servant. She was property. She was a slave! Slave Simone’s cunt was on fire with the arousal of what she was witnessing, and the wonderful thoughts that ruled her brainwashed mind made her shiver with pride and lust: Yes! We turned her into property! We took her mind! We made her a slave!

'We'. The word licked her mind like she wanted Mistress's tongue to lick between her legs. 'We!'

Oh God, yes!!! The full weight of it all finally hit her: She was part of the machine again! This wasn't just something that Mistress had done to Cora, no. Slave Simone had been a willing part of it! She was Mistress's eager, cooperative servant! One among so many others; obeying, enslaving, betraying, serving the one that owned them! She couldn't wait to find out what else she was going to do to serve the woman that had taken her will and raped her into brainwashed servitude.

Slave Simone looked at her in all her glory, the proud need to obey throbbing between her legs: Mistress Beatrice Duke, her owner! God, she loved her so much. Anything for her! Anything to please the woman that had turned her back into her willing whore!

“Slave,” Mistress said in acknowledgment, and Simone's body shivered at the mention of her title. “Your daughter has become my property. You deserve a reward for presenting her to me so eagerly. You may come.”

The conditioned orgasm crashed over her like a wave capsizing a ship. She was on the floor, screaming and convulsing, hands between her legs, pressing down against the unimaginable pleasure in an instinctive attempt to make it bearable. It was more than she could take. She was sure she would pass out. Her body was exploding in a firework of a million stinging, prickling points of pleasure and warmth and impossible joy.

”Ohgodyes!” she screamed, her mind on fire. Yes! Yes! Yesss!!! They were hers now! They were enslaved! Cora! Cora!!! Did she see it? Did she–

Slave Simone turned herself around, heart pounding with desperate need – and her breath caught as she met the eyes of her daughter.

She saw it instantly. She saw what they had taken and erased – and she saw what was left. And she knew.

Cora was gone.

Cora was a slave!

Oh God, yes!!! Yesss!!!

Slave Simone moaned with lust as her daughter pushed her hand between her spread legs and slowly started fucking herself. It was pure art. The arched curve of Cora's naked body was taut with youth and shivering with the pleasure; her naked skin was just begging to be touched and tasted; her face was caught in an expression of defiant, selfish joy. She was the most fuckable thing in the world. A transcendental piece of divine beauty, titled “obedient object”. Her daughter was shamelessly masturbating, fully looking her in the eyes, hungry to show her mother what she had been turned into. Her first act of obedience! Her first act of servitude! Fuck yes!

But Simone knew what came next was going to be even better for her. Even better than fucking herself in front of her mom. Her body shivered with anticipation. Yesss! Look at her! Look at her and tell her what you are!!!

Her daughter smiled as if she'd read her thoughts and turned away from her – and instead looked at the woman she belonged to. She gasped. She hadn't been quite ready for the sheer ecstasy of actually facing her owner. Her daughter trembled and gasped as her eyes lit up with a love and adoration and urgent devotion that was deeper than anything Simone had ever seen on Cora's face, and it was clear that she loved her so much more than she had ever loved Simone. Her entire body seemed to shiver as she beheld her Mistress, and she looked close to tears as she spread her legs wider and started fucking herself harder. But then, somehow, she caught herself, and her expression crystallized into determined conviction. And then that conviction turned into a mischievous smile – and she pointedly stopped rubbing her pretty little cunt.

Instead, her daughter took a deep breath as she looked up at the woman that owned her, and slowly dragged her hand up her body from between her legs and across her tits, ending in a slow circling motion around her erect nipple. She was savoring the moment now, drawing it out instead of simply giving in to the need to fuck herself. She was already turning herself into a deliberate performance to please and titillate her Mistress; wet and eager and proud and elegant, her legs spread wide to show off her glistening pussy. Her eyes alive with a thousand thoughts, all of them bent and twisted into absolute devotion. Everything she hadn't been. Everything they had turned her into. Proud. Willing. Ready. Loyal. Complicit.

Property.

Everything that was left of Cora smiled, and a fully brainwashed slave spoke:

“I will obey.” 

“I will obey.” Hearing her daughter moan those perfect words made slave Simone's pussy cream. She still remembered the desperation and the tears and the fear in her voice. They were gone. Slave Cora’s voice was sex. It was confidence. It was the promise of total obedience – but slave Simone could see the barely contained need and thrill in her eyes. The thrill of a proud slave that was starving, bursting, shivering with the need to obey.

Mistress smiled, and nodded. "Good girl. And what else?"

And just like that slave Cora’s facade of confidence imploded. 'Good girl'. It was enough to reduce her to tears of joy. Cora mewled with lust as her expression melted into utter adoration and she plunged her fingers between her legs and fucked herself to the truths that slave Simone had so eagerly watched being raped into her:

“I'm a slave," she whimpered with glistening eyes, and she shivered and gasped as the words turned her on harder than any sex ever could. "You have me! Mistress!!! I'm yours! I'm your whore! Your toy! Your property! I will obey! I will serve! Anything for you! Anything you want! Use me! Have me! Fuck me! Anything!”

She turned back to the slave that had been her mother and her lips stretched into a manic smile. She had tasted blood. She had discovered how hot it made her to say out loud what she was. There was no more dignity in her voice. Her words were rough and breathless with raw, urgent need. She was utterly overwhelmed. She needed it. She wanted it. She was such a perfect whore.

“Cora ist vorbei," she moaned. "Ich bin nichts als ne hörige Sklavin – willig und feucht und gehorsam. Meine Fotze gehört ihr!”

Slave Simone gasped, overwhelmed by the perverse beauty of what she had just been told. 'Cora is gone. I’m nothing but a slave – eager and wet and obedient. My cunt belongs to Her!'

Part of the machine. Another tool. Another slave. Another piece of property.

Fuck, yes!!!

"Danke, Mama," slave Cora whimpered, looking deeply into slave Simone’s eyes, and those words, coming out of her freshly enslaved daughter's mouth, were the hottest thing she had ever heard anyone say.

She didn’t know how to respond to something that beautiful and perfect. Slave Cora didn’t need her to say anything. She was obviously more than happy just getting herself off as her mother and her Mistress watched.

“Jaaaah,” she moaned loudly as she stroked her engorged clit. “Ja… ich bin ne Sklavin… Sklavin… Ich bin hörig! Ich… Ich… fuck! JA! Nichts als ne verfickte… oh Gott, ja! …nichts mehr als ne willige Sklavin! Fuck! Fuck ja!"

She whimpered like a good little slut, and suddenly she seemed to remember the language of her obedience. The language of the woman that owned her, and she said it all again, eagerly letting Mistress know just what she was thinking about as she fucked herself.

"Mistress! I'm... oooohh.... I'm your slave! Yes! Yes! I'll obey! I'll obey!!! Yess! I'm nothing but a slave! Property! Fuckmeat! Yes! Fuck yes!!! Mistress! Mistress! I will… I will… oooohhhh!”

With a guttural scream, her obedience overwhelmed her and slave Cora came for her Mistress. She came for herself; for being a slave. For being nothing but property. She came in the face of everything she had been, to spite it and denounce it and undo it. She came, thinking lovingly about all the ways she would obey that she had never wanted, and had been made to crave like a drowning woman craved air.

She said none of those things, but slave Simone understood. She knew how much of an obedient slut her daughter had become. She knew exactly what thoughts they had raped into the foundation of Cora's beliefs. Slave Simone knew, because Mistress had done the same thing to her. And now, her slave pussy squirmed when she thought about the fact that her daughter had been made to feel it, too. Fuck, yes!

When slave Cora’s spasms of pleasure were over, Mistress commanded them both to stand, and they happily, eagerly, obeyed. Their minds were blissfully circling around their own obedience as they stood naked in front of the woman that owned them.

“Kiss her, slave Cora,” Mistress said, and slave Cora laid her arms on slave Simone’s shoulders, smiling, looking deeply into her eyes before burying her tongue in her mouth without even the slightest bit of hesitation. Slave Simone pulled slave Cora in, felt her warm flesh against hers, and lost herself in the exquisite perversion of finding this hotter than any sex she had ever had. Her daughter’s mouth was warm and wet against hers, and slave Simone could only think about what else that mouth was going to do. Slave Simone pushed back against slave Cora's tongue, circling, dancing, playing, enjoying, until it was her own tongue that was pushing into the mouth of her enslaved daughter. Slave Simone shivered with overwhelming arousal as slave Cora sucked on her, shameless and hungry, and they kept going, both of them softly moaning as they served and obeyed.

“Good,” Mistress said after a lifetime of hot, wet lips. “Stop.”

They obeyed and their kiss ended, for now.

“I want you,” slave Cora whispered when she pulled away her lips, loud enough to ensure that Mistress would hear it. A shiver of warmth rippled across slave Simone's body and she wasn't sure if it was pride or lust or both. She couldn't believe how good all of this was. It had really happened. They had both been enslaved. They were property. Mistress had won! 

Mistress!

She looked at her. Beatrice Duke. Her Mistress. The reason for their existence. God, she loved her so much more than she had ever loved Cora.

The most important person in the world smiled, and her slaves shivered with joy.

"Good Girls."

“Now,” Mistress continued, “Moving along with the agenda… Slave Cora: Tell me all about that one. What did you two do together, so carelessly rummaging around in you father’s dirty laundry? Who is she?”

Slave Cora was almost confused for a moment until she realized that Mistress was talking about Iris. She was still in a daze of arousal and and excitement after everything that had happened. She had honestly forgotten about her, and even being reminded of her felt strangely annoying. Iris was part of her old life, and she was fucking done with that now. She had become everything that she had been afraid of becoming, and it was the best fucking thing in the world. 

But of course there were loose ends. Of course, Iris was still there, like a human monument to all the wasted years in which Cora could have already been eager, fuckable property.

She looked at her pretty childhood friend, who was still mindlessly entranced at the end of an inducer. She felt nothing for her anymore. Their years together didn’t amount to shit next to her loyalty to the woman that had taken her will. If anything, she felt a simmering need to see Iris stripped naked and raped and enslaved, too. Yes. That would make her get off hard. But it was up to Mistress. All slave Cora could do was hope.

This was going to be fun though, no matter how it ended.

“She’s nineteen,” she said, as if she were describing a used car, “She’s half a year older than me. Her father is a coworker of my father’s.”

She glanced at her father, who was just as deeply hypnotized as the pretty blonde next to him. He looked pathetic, and he also reminded her of the worthless life before she had been enslaved. She grimaced, then turned her attention back to Iris.

“She saw the same pictures and documents I saw. We were snooping in my father’s files together. It was my idea to break into the computer in the first place, but she was the one that discovered the files.”

Her voice caught slightly when she realized that she herself had started all this. Fuck, yes! If she hadn’t broken into her father’s computer, she wouldn’t be a slave now. She would never have seen her mother fuck herself to the idea of it. She would never have even known that she had to be used. She would never have known her Mistress, and never have become her property. She would still be that crying whimpering bitch.

The relief and gratefulness she felt was something she was sure she would never be able to put into words, but she knew she would show it every time she let herself be used.

“Continue, please,” Mistress said, and slave Cara almost tripped over her words in her hurry to make up for her wandering mind.

"She goes to the same private school I do. Classes are in English. Some international students, but mostly German. She has about seven to ten friends she sees regularly, and maybe twice again that many that she sees once every few months from what I know.

“She can keep a secret but she’s righteous, and this isn’t something she would ever keep quiet about. If you hadn’t abducted us, she would probably have told her parents or law enforcement by now.”

“Good. Tell me about what kind of person I’m going to enslave,” Mistress said, smiling, and slave Cora smiled with her. Yes!!! She’s going to be a slave! She could feel the hairs on her skin stand up with arousal. She had been hoping badly for this.

“She’s willful and loyal,” she said. “She’s smart but has little interest in Academia. She prefers having experiences over having things, and being active over being creative. She’s had three boyfriends, but only had sex with the most recent one. Her type is handsome but slightly unkempt and not too tall, because she doesn’t like feeling physically intimidated. She’s easily worried and hard to impress. She judges people too quickly and is difficult to persuade once she’s set her mind a certain way. She dreams of visiting Europe. She loves going to concerts and clubs. She plays the guitar but isn’t very good at it. She loves cats, but her parents never got her one.”

She went on for a while. She watched Mistress smile as she laid open everything she knew about Iris. Everything they were going to rape away. She guessed that this was a game that Mistress liked to play with her prey – like making Cora watch her mother’s enslavement, or letting slave Simone decide how her daughter would serve. Slave Cora was more than happy to play along. She was Mistress’s plaything, and it made her so hot to be toyed with like this.

“Very good, slave,” Mistress said, and if slave Cora had been a cat, she would have purred. Her pussy burned with the need to be touched – but she kept still. Some deep part of her instinctively understood that fucking herself when she’d woken up as a slave had been the one and only time she’d been allowed to by her own choice.

Fuck yes. It made her crave obeying Mistress even more. She needed to obey her. Mistress would allow her to cum. Mistress was the only one that could. Oh God, yes! She loved this so much. They had turned her into such a deeply controlled little slut for obedience! She was so eager and wet for it that it almost made her crazy.

And her mother was just the same!

“Now, slave Simone–”

“–yes, Mistress!”

“Continuing with the fun we’re having with this: You don’t need to tell me anything about Tom, my toy,” Mistress said, approaching the handsome man that her mom used to fuck. “Except for how you feel about him.”

Slave Simone hesitated for just a moment. All kinds of different thoughts and feelings seemed to be at war in her head – but the moment passed, and she settled on something very simple:

“He means nothing to me,” she said, smiling thinly. “Do whatever you want with him. I don’t give a fuck.”

Mistress laughed musically, and slave Cora shivered. God, she wanted her so bad. She wanted that kind of approval. That kind of appreciation. The idea of pleasing her was like slick fingers stroking her needy lips. Nothing could be better than being like this.

And then Mistress turned to slave Cora, and her body went even tighter with need. Yes. Yes. Yesss!!!

“And what about the junior toy?” Mistress asked, grinning as she brushed a lock of golden hair from her forehead. Having her attention was like heroin – but slave Cora stayed calm. It felt like what Mistress would want. After a moment of thought she chuckled, and stepped closer to her father. Her heart was still beating heavily under Mistress's judging eyes, but she knew how to obey. She knew that she was meant to play along. They were toys, after all.

“I pity him,” she said, slowly striding around the entranced man like a model on a catwalk, “I think he’s pathetic. Look at you, Papa. You’ve lost everything. Your wife and your daughter are gone. Their Mistress took them from you because you were too stupid to protect them. I’m so glad you failed to protect me from this, Papa.”

The words tasted like honey, and came absolutely effortless. It felt so good to say it. To think it. To want it. To–

Oh. Wow.

She turned back to her Mistress, feeling almost solemn.

“Yeah. I suppose I have been enslaved to still want things” she said slowly and thoughtfully, almost to herself, “Even if I’m nothing more than an object that exists to be used.”

Fuck, yes. She gave her Mistress a playful smile. “And what I’d want most is this: Before you make him forget, or before you make him suck wealthy dicks in fancy back rooms, or before you make him have an unfortunate accident… Whatever you do to him – and I don’t give a fuck what you do to him – I want him to see me like I am now. I want him to see that his daughter is a fucking slave, and that you own her.”

Her mother moaned like the eager whore that she was, and it made Cora's skin prickle with pride and joy.

Mistress chuckled. “Silly slave. I wouldn’t have made that happen no matter what the fuck you wanted. Good girl. You’re very much everything I’d hoped for.”

Slave Cora's brainwashed mind shivered as if Mistress had just pushed her finger down her cunt. Oh God, yes!!!

Mistress continued. “Slaves without numbers are much more fun to play with, because they play along,” Mistress said casually, and slaves Cora and Simone arched their backs proudly by instinct. “They’re eager and forthcoming and adaptive in ways my numbered dolls can never hope to be. But I do need them, too. They’re easier to sell, easier to reprogram, easier to maintain by their owners. Plus, there something that’s just so delicious about those empty eyes.”

She licked her lips, and slave Cora couldn't help imagine being the one to moisten them instead. She wanted nothing more than to be used by her. She loved her so much, and she wanted to make her cum, give her joy, give her pleasure, and serve her with her body like she already served her with every brainwashed thought.

“It would have been a special thrill to see your eyes empty like that, slave Cora,” Mistress continued, “But your mother wanted you to be just as eager and wet for being a slave as she is, and honestly, I’m with her on this.”

She strode past them, gently dragging her finger across their cleavages, and they both shivered and gasped from her touch. She stopped when she was standing behind to Tom and Iris.

“You’ll get your wish with your father soon enough, but there’s another piece of material to be converted before then,” she said. She stepped next to Iris and gently felt up the entranced girls tits from behind her. Iris didn’t react as Mistress dragged her hands over her chest, softly squeezing. Her mind was sedated by the lights dancing in her eyes.

“This one definitely needs to be a number, though.” Mistress said. “I have a client in Antigua who commissioned a girl just like her. She’s young and hardly used. She’ll fetch a good price.”

“What about her family?" slave Cora asked. "If she disappears, they’ll–”

Mistress raised her hand, and slave Cora stopped dead. She had spoken out of turn. Mistress didn’t look angry however; It was the only thing that kept slave Cora’s eyes from watering out of sudden shame.

“Your concern honors you, slave Cora – but I will never need your opinion again unless I ask it. You're smart; tell me why you're allowed to think for yourself.”

Slave Cora smiled. “To be better product,” she said, glowing with pride and satisfaction. "To be more desirable to use." Yes. She was nothing but a piece of property. She was only good to be used. She existed for her warm wet holes, and to make it as exciting and rewarding as possible to fill them.

Mistress smiled, and the world was back in order. "Perfect answer. Good girl."

Slave Cora nearly came. The relief of pleasing her owner was still almost literally incredible. She couldn't believe how thoroughly she had been brainwashed. She wanted this. Only this. Forever. It was the best fucking thing in the world.

Mistress turned back to Iris. “Is her English good enough to understand what we’ll program her with? She sounded pretty fluent, but I need to make sure. I've had issues with material that's less-than-proficient.”

'Material'. Fuck yes. Slave Cora was feeling the excitement now. It was happening. Iris was going to become fuckable wet property. “Yes, Mistress. Her English is even better than mine.” she said, happy to have properly obeyed this time.

“Good,” Mistress said without even a moment of pause. “Slave two-fifty-one, enslave this material; Protocol Delta.”

“Yes Mistress,” said slave 251, and went to work. She plugged the vibrator control cables into the inducer that already had Iris’s mind under control, and started deepening her trance into submissiveness. Iris almost immediately began to mouth after the slave, falling deeper, becoming suggestible and pliant.

These are her last moments, slave Cora realized. Or perhaps, she thought, her last moments already happened an hour ago, when the inducer first caught her. It didn’t matter. That was the whole point: Nothing of what Iris thought or felt would ever matter again. She was nothing but meat, now. Just a body and a face to be fucked. The thought made Cora’s pussy throb with urgent need. She had just betrayed her best friend, and it turned her on so fucking hard. She could only imagine how fucking amazing it must have felt for her mother to do the same thing to her. It made her so fucking hot when she remembered, and even a little bit proud. Her mom was such a shameless, obedient whore! She couldn't wait to fuck her in front of Mistress.

“Slave Simone,” Mistress said. “Why don’t you return to the place you belong and lick my cunt as your daughter and I watch Iris become my slave? Show me what you remember.”

“Yes, Mistress,” slave Simone gasped, already on her way to her knees. Mistress stepped up to her, lifting the split hem of her dress to present a shaved, visibly wet pussy. Slave Simone crawled forward, disappearing under the fabric.

Even a glimpse of Mistress’s pussy had been enough to take slave Cora to the edge of climax. In that moment, the desire to worship between the legs of the woman that owned her felt greater than her desire to breathe.

“You will service me, too, slave Cora, don’t worry,” Mistress said as if she’d been able to read her mind. Slave Cora's pussy shuddered with relief. “I’ll use you plenty. You’ll –mmmhhh… ooh yes just there slave Simone. Good girl!”

Slave Cora watched attentively. Her pussy was so fucking wet. Again. It had been wet the whole time. She was always so slick and ready, now. This was so fucking good.

“You are a prize slave, Cora,” Mistress said, panting, wheezing, “That body. That face. That energy! Do you know how many girls wake up from their enslavement and just graciously accept their new life like shy little schoolgirls? But you... you are a fanatic. You're a natural whore. I could sell you for ten times the money I sold your mother for. But you’re mine. I want you.”

Slave Cora gasped with barely restrained pleasure. She felt so close to orgasm, and she wished that she could cum, just to please her owner.

“You will spend your days licking my cunt, and your nights whoring for me. You’re welcome,” Mistress said with a smile, then suddenly moaned and gasped from what slave Simone was doing with her tongue beneath Mistress’s dress. She reached into the worshipping slave’s hair and pushed her deeper into herself, momentarily enraptured by the pleasure her slave was lucky enough to give her.

“Thank you, Mistress,” slave Cora said quietly, almost to herself, her voice little more than a tiny whisper; there were tears of joy sparkling in her eyes.

“You may watch Iris be enslaved,” Mistress said in a pause between deep moans of pleasure, “Pleasure yourself as you do. She used to be your friend.”

Used to. The thought drove into her like a cock she’d craved for hours.

“Yes, Mistress,” slave Cora whimpered, and her fingers finally – finally – followed her thoughts to the moist, needy place between her legs, at the center of her perfect new life. She needed to come so fucking bad. It was unbearable. She had to come. She had to obey. Yes! Yes! Obedience was pleasure. Pleasure was obedience.

She turned away from Mistress, hungry for the sight of Iris.

The blonde girl was already stripping when slave Cora’s hungering gaze found her. Her eyes were empty; Iris was gone! They had her! Mistress had her! No fight, no opinion, no thoughts. Just a body! Yesss!!! Slave Cora thought of everything Iris was and plunged her fingers into her cunt as she watched it all be erased.

She came instantly. Her finger pressed against her clit, and it was like setting off an avalanche. Pure pleasure erupted from the burning, throbbing obedience at her core and she screamed. It was joy and pride and lust and purpose and impossible relief. This was everything she wanted. Obey and cum and serve and cum! She felt herself reel, and almost tumble, as – somewhere – her body managed to keep itself on her feet. Everything was raw, electric joy, and she was at the center of it – enslaved and obedient. Nothing was better than this. Serve and obey and enslave and fuck. Yes!!! It had actually happened! It had really come true! She was property! She was a slave! She was a toy! She was everything she had been afraid of becoming!!! Fuck yes! The orgasm wasn’t stopping! It was still going! She felt something squeeze her tits and realized that it was her own hand, and she pressed down harder on her tingling, sensitive nipples, and it was like another radiating star in a bursting sea of light. She’d never felt this fucking good. Pleasure and pain smeared into each other in a fire of blinding ecstasy, but she didn’t stop. The wonderful agony only meant that she was obeying, hard. She bit down on the pain and kept grinding through it, doing what she had been commanded to do. She had to obey! Obeying was now better and more important than anything else. Pleasure yourself. She used to be your friend. Yes!!! 

She was so lucky.

Eventually, the pain faded, and slave Cora felt only satisfaction and excitement as her legs twitched, and the wet noises of her fingers against her swollen lips found a slower rhythm again.

Still, she kept going. She wasn't done. Iris wasn't done.

Slave 251 told her hypnotized friend to lie down and spread her legs, and Iris obeyed. Slave Cora watched her mindlessly follow every command, watched how she continued to tonelessly repeat slave 251’s suggestions, watched her make a small, surprised sound when slave 251 penetrated her ass and her pussy, plugging the vibrators into the Material’s body.

Slave Cora watched Iris be enslaved, furiously masturbating to the sight of it, already close to cumming again. Iris’s body was so tight and slim, and her breasts were full, with large pink nipples. She was seeing her fully naked for the first time. She was fucking hot. But the thing that turned Cora on the most were how empty her eyes were. She had already been reduced to nothing but a body that they could use however they liked. She would make such a good sex slave. Slave Cora already pictured her kneeling in front of the man she’d be sold to, ready to bend over and take him from behind, serving, obeying.

It set her off again. She didn’t stop. She wouldn’t stop until Iris was a slave.

Two orgasms later, a slave that had been standing by passively sprang into life at 251’s command. She produced a metal band that she proceeded to tighten around Iris’s head, and plugged a cord into the inducer, something that hadn’t happened to either Cora nor Simone.

“Formatting harness in place, slave251,” she reported, then returned to her post.

Slave Cora cooed softly. This was what was going to make the difference between her friend Iris, but enslaved, and a piece of meat without a name. A fresh spike of pleasure rocked her body. Fuck yes! Iris wouldn’t be gone like Cora. No. That was only a metaphor; Cora was still there, wanting to obey, wanting to be fucked and controlled and to be used, unlike she used to be. Saying that she was gone was just a pleasant way of expressing how different she’ d become.

Iris on the other hand would literally be gone – her memories and identity taken from her, leaving only the parts of her that were of value: a naked body, and a naked mind that could only obey!

Nothing but a mindless slave. 

What was left of Cora liked that thought so much that it made her cum again.