I look at the woman Reyna pointed me towards. My mouth waters. She’s beautiful in a Reyna way, not sexy or slutty like Maria or June. Her body isn’t begging to be fucked; it’s begging to be adored. She’s in a tan blazer that comes to a point at her slim waist and flows seamlessly into her skirt. It isn’t tight like a pencil skirt, having the pleats to make it more fashionable and less work-oriented. She has a simple white blouse, similar to Diana’s, and heels with straps that wrap up the ankle. Her hair is a deep red, almost auburn, and straightened. Currently, it’s in a tight ponytail. She has thick-rimmed glasses, and plump lips. I can’t help but imagine men love when she sucks their cock. I also can’t imagine she’ll suck cock ever again, unless that somehow suits Reyna’s purposes. 

She’s leaning back in her office chair, legs crossed, with a manuscript in one hand, a red pen in another, and a second red pen behind her ear. There’s something irresistible about a well-read woman. I never realized that part of my attraction to this job was to see beautiful women reading all the time. Of course, I never realized how into women I was. Or am for that matter. I look around the office and see more women at work in similar outfits, all reading or writing or typing. Beautiful women everywhere. All of them have beautiful pussies that my tongue needs to serve. I should come into the office more often. 

I approach her carefully, legs moving before my mind wants them to, before my mind is ready. I’m turned on, yes, but I’m still not ready. I can’t stop my body from obeying Reyna’s commands, but I also I can’t go up to a stranger and start eating her out. I need to know her, like I know June. Sex can’t be so heartless. 

But no one told my legs that as every new step seals my fate further. No one told my mouth that as it waters at the thought of the sweet and sticky pussy each woman in the room has. No one told my pussy as it fills with warmth. 

There are two forces in my mind, the hunger for each woman and what she has to offer me, and the fear that this is a kind of death. It may be a sweet death, but this is crossing a point I may never return from. This is what Reyna wants. This might be what her slaves want. This may even be what some new and twisted part of me wants. But this is not what Sarah wants. The truest part of Sarah is freaking the fuck out. The part of Sarah that’s trying to save Maria, that’s living with June, that’s trying to stay the hell away from Reyna. That’s the real part, and I can’t forget her. 

But that part doesn’t stop me from going to me knees in front of the beautiful redhead. 

“What’s your name?” I ask. She doesn’t answer. I think I see a flicker of her eyes in my direction, but I can’t be sure. She doesn’t move. She idly flips a page of the manuscript she’s reading and jots a note in red pen. 

“She won’t answer,” says Reyna from behind me. I turn around to see her. She’s closer than I thought, only two or three feet away from us with a smile of cruel delight. “She’s been told to pretend you don’t exist. But this one’s name was Rebecca. Call her Becky.” 

I look back to Becky. “Can you uncross your legs?” I ask. Becky doesn’t respond. “Please?” She writes something down. 

I take a deep breath. I hate this. I want to go home. I want Reyna to leave me alone. I want to be back with June or Maria. I want to be in bed where no one will bother me.

But in front of that fear and panic, stronger and louder, is my hunger. I can smell Becky. She’s wet. It must be the presence of her Reyna. And I want to taste her. No, this is stronger than a want; I need to taste her. 

The hunger guides me as I separate Becky’s legs by gently spreading pulling them apart. Becky doesn’t acknowledge the change; her body offers no resistance. I splay her legs as wide as her skirt will allow. The hunger appreciates that Becky isn’t in a pencil skirt like so many other women in the office. It also appreciates the lacy and damp white panties Becky is wearing and the small amount of stubble around the mound. I was worried to eat out someone through a full bush. 

I hesitate, staring at Becky’s crotch through her skirt. I look up at Becky, and she still has barely moved. She’s reading without a care in the world. I lean in to try and lick her pussy through the panties, but she isn’t sitting forward enough on the seat to give my head access. Her skirt is still partially in the way, and her free hand is still resting in her lap, almost blocking my head. 

I reach out with my hand and start to stroke Becky. Goddess, she’s already soaked. I slip a finger past the panties and slide it up her slit. Becky makes a noise, almost like a moan that she tries to disguise as a cough. I pull the my finger back and smell it. She smells wonderful. I eagerly bring the finger to my mouth and suck on it. She’s delicious. It’s almost sweet and savory, like maple bacon in flavor. I can taste the salt of the sweat, the heat of her body, and the sweetness of her lust all at once. The hunger roars within me and I want more. I feel saliva flood my mouth, and lust fills my mind. All I want is Becky’s pussy and her sweet juices. I want more. There is no room in my mind for Reyna or June or Maria or the preposterous circumstances under which this delicious treat came before me. There is only room for the hunger and what I will do to satisfy it. 

I lunge forward, my head under her skirt, and lick her panties. The lace is too lick. I can taste her, but I know from pleasuring June that the best parts are deepest. I have to pull back the layers, like the stars in Reyna’s eyes. 

I reach under Becky’s skirt to pull down the panties, but she won’t cooperate. Her body is a dead weight and I can’t get the panties over her beautifully thick thighs while she’s sitting. The hunger in me snarls, and I pull on her panties, ripping them off her body. I hear Reyna give a giggle behind me, but for now, Reyna is nothing. There is only the pussy before me I need to serve, the pussy with its hidden juices that will satisfy the hunger. 

With the panties gone, I dive into Becky. At first, I’m too eager. June coached me through this. There should be long and slow strokes. A pussy is like a woman, it needs to be seduced. I should ignore the clit for as long as either of us can handle it before driving the woman to orgasm. Instead, I dive as deep as I can. My tongue goes past the lips and into the deep, looking for the sweet nectar. 

There, I find it. It’s thick and warm. I begin to scoop it with my tongue and curl it back into my mouth. My chin gets wet and my lips are soaked, but she tastes perfect. I go back in, trying to scoop out more. Each taste doesn’t satisfy the hunger; it fuels it. I need more. I pull my head back and look around. Reyna is slowly rubbing herself through her dress from above, but the other women are all working. So many women. So many cunts. I need more. I’m so hungry. I turn back to Becky and dive back in. I scoop more and more juice out of her. I begin to lose track of what is her pussy, what is flesh, and what is juice. It’s all for me to eat. 

I finally bring my tongue up to her swollen clit. I feel Becky’s hips shift in response, though she tries to play it off like she’s getting more comfortable in her seat. I feel the manuscript on top of my head as she uses it to write on. I know she wants to hold my head. She wants to guide my tongue, to grind into my face. She wants to treat my tongue like a vibrator, and I don’t care. The hunger doesn’t care. She wants to run her hands through my hair and moan like a whore, and I want that too. We both feel the hunger now, as I flick my tongue quickly back and forth over the tip of her clit. 

“Uuhn,” says Becky as she finally slides her hips forward, and deeper into my mouth. As she shakes softly, I feel the manuscript fall from my head. I let my eyes look up to meet her hooded gaze as she stares down at me, her own hunger flooding her mind. She sees a woman that she doesn’t know on her knees eating her out with her own wet need. I must look like a whore. But the hunger doesn’t care, so I don’t care. 

Suddenly, Reyna’s face looms above me behind Becky’s ear. She whispers in her pet’s ear loud enough for me to hear: “Becky, remember what I told you.” I can feel the hatred in Reyna’s voice through the calm command. She doesn’t want the scene she imagined destroyed because Becky is such a slut that she can’t suppress a moan. Realization dawns on Reyna’s face, and she smiles. “Or is that what you want, my little pet? Do you want to upset me?” Reyna licks her lips and then runs her tongue over Becky’s ear. “Do you want me to use you to destroy your family?  You’ll have no say in it as you watch your own hands ruin the life of your sister. She’s a pretty girl. She’d make a wonderful prostitute. She’d like that. Your mother would too. Is that what turns you on, my little Becky?” 

At that, Becky clenches and Reyna laughs. I feel Becky’s orgasm, her thighs quiver next to my mouth, simply from hearing Reyna’s twisted plans for her. Goddess, she is a slut. 

Becky is a slut, but she also knows how to be a good girl for Reyna. She keeps reading and doesn’t make a sound while she continues to cum and clench my head. She’s even able to jot a note on the manuscript while her hands shake with satisfaction. 

I keep licking, but then feel Reyna’s hand on my shoulder. She pulls me away carefully, and then brings me to my feet. 

“Good girl,” says Reyna, but I keep my eyes locked on Becky’s pussy. I can make her orgasm again. I can pleasure her again and again. With men, you have to stop, but with women, you can go on forever. 

I look back to Reyna, and she smiles. I love her smile, almost as much as I love her eyes. She leans in to kiss me, but her lips miss mine and she licks a trail of Becky’s juices off of my chin. I shiver. Reyna hands me my shirt and walks back towards her office, waving her hand for me to follow. 

I put on my shirt as I walk. Kathy comes out of the office with tears on her face, holding her sides. She walks past us, almost with a limp, and I turn to watch her as I keep up with Reyna. Kathy, nude, walks right past her desk and rounds the corner towards the elevator. I can hear her sobbing the whole way. 

In Reyna’s office, Diana is still absent-mindedly stroking herself, smiling like she’s high. She hasn’t moved from the spot we left her in. Reyna takes a seat at the desk and gestures for me to sit in front of her. 

“Look into my eyes, little Sarah. You will keep your memory this time.” I look into Reyna’s eyes and feel like I’m falling asleep in reverse. Everything is becoming brighter, sharper. My senses heighten. I’m aware of the smell of Diana’s pussy and my pussy. And a new smell. Is that Reyna’s pussy? Goddess, it smells incredible. I’m also painfully aware of how wet I am. I don’t just need new panties; I need new pants. My nipples are tight and hard, straining into my bra. Beads of sweat roll down my breasts, and my chin is sticky. I can taste Becky in my mouth. I expect it to be stronger than before, but the taste is faded. It’s less sweet and less addictive. She doesn’t taste terribly different from June. 

“Oh, God,” I say and run my hand through my hair. On the desk is a box of tissues, and I take one and wipe my chin. 

“Did I prove my point?” asks Reyna. 

“Your point?” I ask. 

“Don’t play stupid, little Sarah. You have much in common with my sluts, but stupid is not one of them.” She glares me down. Her eyes don’t flash, but the weight of her look sends shivers through me. She’s still dangerous. With another look she could force me to eat out each woman in the building. She could give me that hunger, that craving, to serve until I die. I remember what she said to Becky to get her to cum. I need to get away from this woman. 

“I don’t have a choice,” I say. 

“Yes.” 

“I have to play along.” 

“Be a good fox.” 

“How?” 

Reyna waits to answers. Her finger steeple in front of her. She’d look like a classic villain if it weren’t for the simplicity of her blue dress. Beautiful girls don’t make good villains. Sexy girls do. Slutty girls do. But pretty girls like Reyna are not the dangerous ones. No one tells you to look out for something so soft and comforting. 

“I think we need more rules,” she says finally. My eyes immediately go the desk to stay away from her eyes. Rules mean control, and control means more hypnosis. I can’t let her have me like that again, no matter how much I enjoy it. I hear her chuckle at my panic and add, “don’t worry. I won’t take you into my eyes permanently, like the others. Not until you beg for it.” 

I look up at her, right into her eyes, and I don’t get lost. Her eyes are beautiful, but they have no power over me. Not now, at least. 

“What are the rules?” I ask. 

“You remember what I told you the first time we met?” 

“About coming with you with an answer or a question or something like that.” 

“A question, little Sarah. I know you don’t remember much that day, but you should remember that.” 

“I do.” Of course, I do. I can still feel the words under my clothes, over my chest: slut and goddess. Which one am I? I’m a goddess to

June, and a slut to Reyna. Which one am I truly? Which is the truest and best Sarah? 

“You will bring me an answer. Are you like June or are you like me?” 

“Why can’t you tell me the answer and spare us all the time?” 

“Because all things are process. You may be slut today and goddess tomorrow. You may become more a goddess until I break you.

You become a little slut until I make you a relentless slut. I must know which you are. Then I can remake you.” 

“Do you want the answer now?” Part of me knows giving her the answer is the end of everything, but I want things to be over. Whether she gets bored with me, or ruins my life it will be over once she gets the answer, and I’m tired of this. 

“No. You are not ready.” 

“Please,” I beg. “Tell me.” 

“No. But I will help you decide.” 

“How?” 

“A game.”

“The hunt?” 

“No, all of this is the hunt. Let’s call it a game in a game.” 

I sigh. I’m so tired, but I have to play along. She still has Maria over me, just like Becky’s sister. She can still hurt those I love, even if I’m willing to let her hurt me. “What if I don’t want to play? What if I let you have me?” 

“Don’t lose heart, Sarah. If you want to quit, you can quit. I will set things back. Karla can become Carl again. You will want men and have your job and even see Maria again. But none of it will be free. All of it will be controlled by me. You will know that Carl is secretly Karla to me, and only pretends to be Carl for you. Maria will be your best friend, but her truest self will be my slave. You will be normal Sarah, but you will always be my subject. I will own your friends, you family, and your job. You will never forget that everything you have came from me and is controlled by me. No matter what, little Sarah, I will be your goddess.” 

Part of me is tempted. That sounds so peaceful. And honestly, what’s wrong with it? Reyna controls it? So? She controls everything now anyways. She controls Diana and Karla and Maria and probably June. This would remove the illusion, but it wouldn’t change the circumstances. I could be her subject as long as I could be myself. 

But that wouldn’t be me. I wouldn’t be myself....