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Description

You wake up on a sidewalk. It’s early in the morning, the sun has just barely come out. Confused, you sit up quickly and feel the breasts you definitely didn’t have yesterday jiggle as you do so. “What the-?!” you start to say, stopping as you hear your voice which is much higher than it’s supposed to be. You look past your new found C-cups (which aren’t in a bra as you seem to have no underwear) at the rest of your scantily clad, goddess-like body. You’re confused at first, but then you start to remember what had happened when you were last conscious. You had been in court yesterday. You were accused (falsely) of molestation by a woman you merely bumped into by accident. You hadn’t been able to afford a lawyer. It seems you’ve been turned into a PALPS (Public Access Leisure and Pleasure Servant) as punishment. “They turned me into a coin operated sex slave for bumping into somebody? Bullshit!” Furious, you look around hoping to see the people who had brought you here. Unfortunately, nobody else is around. You look up and down the street you’ve woken up next to, and at all the buildings. It seems you’re going to be serving in a high class residential area. The place looks quite a bit nicer than your neighbourhood. “Shit, plenty of people can probably afford me in a neighbourhood this nice.” You have only used the increasingly popular PALPS service once before. Even though you only paid enough to have a girl pose for you for a few minutes, it still costed quite a bit. But anyone wealthy enough to live here could no doubt afford to make you do much more intimate things. “Is this just karma? Is this what I get for using that girl in the park? Dammit, I didn’t do anything to deserve getting raped! Oh god, all the rich people around here are gonna have a field day with me! I don’t wanna lose my virginity to a guy!” You slowly become more and more panicky. “Aggh! What the fu-” your mouth seems to freeze mid-sentence.

*BEEP* Servants in high class sectors of the city are not aloud to use vulgar language unless doing so would please or attract a client.

A robotic voice comes from a pole-mounted metal box a few meters away. “Is that my control box?” You stand up and try to walk over to it but you can only take one step before you run into the wall of your cage. You know all servant girls are kept in invisible cages, just like the one you used. It appears you are no exception. You feel around the edge of your cage for all of about 10 seconds before you become furious at how small it is. The cage only reaches a few feet out from the pillar you woke up next to. “Why is it so small?!” you scream and throw a punch at the cage wall. However, you hand stops on its own before it hits the edge of your cage.

*BEEP* Servant in high class sectors are not allowed to harm themselves. Punching your cage would cause damage to your hand. I will now relay all additional rules you will be following during your sentence. 1.) You will not masturbate or otherwise sexually stimulate yourself unless a client makes you do so. This includes any touching of your vagina, squeezing or massaging your breasts, pinching your nipples, etc. 2.) You are not allowed to wear clothes that cover more skin than your current outfit until your sentence has concluded. 3.) When other people are within line of sight, you will adopt an appealing pose and facial expression so as to attract clients. 4.) You will talk in a sexually arousing and provocative manner at all times during designated daytime hours and whenever a client is within earshot regardless of what time it is. Please note that designated daytime hours begin in two minutes. 5.) Because you are a high-class servant, you will remain in your new body after your sentence is over. This is so that, in the the unlikely event that we can’t fill one of our servant stations in this district for a period of time, we may take control of your body again and have you take shifts and pleasure clients until the position is filled again.

“Ugh, why did I have to be put in this district?” you say as an overwhelming sense of dread washes over you.

You chose to be put in a high-class district instead of a mid-class or low-class at the end of your trial.

“Why would I choose that?!” you ask in disbelief.

I only have access to the part of your brain that controls your body, not the conscious decision making part. But if I were to make an educated guess, it’s probably because clients in low and mid-class districts are able to exploit loopholes in our servant rules rules. Are you familiar with the rules for all 3 tiers of service.

“No…Only type 1 and… and 2. H-how about… y-you… f-fill me up with some of your sweet sticky knowledge?” you ask as your voice becomes more sultry and your work choice becomes more… suggestive. “I guess daytime hours have started. Now I get to look AND sound like a slut. Fantastic.”

Type 3 services allow the client to control their servant with normal speech instead of just reading exact commands as listed on the control panel. It also allows the insertion of body parts, bodily fluids, objects, etc. The only restrictions that apply are that clients may not cause any injury to their servant that would require hospitalization. Basically, in this sector, the programs which detect rule violations are more up to date. There is an additional rule that states that if a rule is broken because of a servant’s own chosen actions rather than her client’s, the client won’t be punished. Servants in mid-class districts have been getting mouths and asses full of cum when only providing type 2 service recently. Some servants in low-class areas have even been seriously injured before. In high-class districts, servants have less dignity and more security, it’s a win win.

“Well, at least they have to be gentle when they handle me around here.” you say in an increasingly slutty tone of voice. Your sexy, seductive voice is quite the contrast to your body, which is standing almost completely still. “I’m sure the machine is going to make my body language match my voice once people start coming by.”

There is also a tier called “special services,” which is reserved for platinum members. Shall I explain it?

“Oooooohhh yeaaahhhhh. I already know how to service people, but how do I make it special?” your voice is beginning to turn you on now. You wish you could touch yourself.

Special service entails type 3 service over a long period of time. Clients are allowed to take their servant wherever they want for 24 hours. It’s essentially a rental service.

“Oooooohh, sounds fun. I hope somebody rents me,” you say. “No, no I don’t. Shut up.” You’re about to ask more when your body pins itself against the pillar and your legs spread themselves invitingly. “Why can’t I move?” You sit like that for a minute. Just looking sexy, not moving at all. You hear footsteps coming down the sidewalk from behind. You can’t see them coming, but there are people walking down the sidewalk towards you. “Oh no.” They finally reach the pillar you’re pinning yourself against. It’s too men who look to be in their 20s. As soon as you see them, you beckon them with your left hand, licking your lips seductively. “Please don’t.” They do. You watch as the money enters the machine. Luckily they only pay enough for 5 minutes of type 1 service. “At least they don’t get to touch me.” They press a button. You start slowly and erotically taking off your clothes while dancing. Both men are recording your dance on their phones while they watch. “I can’t even be mad at them can I? I took pictures when I made that girl do all those poses.” They press another button. This button prompts you to start telling the men, in excessive detail, how much you desperately want their dicks and exactly what you want to do to them. You tell them you desperately want to suck one off them off while jerking the other and vice versa. You tell them you want to ride on the first guy’s cock while you squeeze his friend’s dick between your tits and jiggle them up and down. You mimic the motion with your tits, which actually feels really good. “I’ll make sure to drink up every last drop of cum afterwards. And if there’s still some left in your dicks, I’ll suck it out. That sounds good right?” you say as you finish taking off your clothes. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

Once their time is finally up, they walk away, leaving you naked, humiliated, and… really horny for some reason. “Fuck, I really wish I could touch myself.” As you start putting your clothes back on, a short, cute black-haired girl and two girls who seem to be her friends pass you by. Her friends try not to look at you, but as soon as they aren’t watching, the black-haired girl gives you a quick wink and then continues on her way. You can’t help but blush a bit, she’s exactly your type. “That was… interesting.” You don’t have time to ponder on this exchange though because as soon as you’re finished dressing, your body is back to doing sexy poses and flirting with people as they pass by. “That felt way longer than five minutes. This is gonna be a long day.”

---

It’s 10 PM. You have 2 hours left in your sentence. Luckily for you, being stationed in a high-class area meant the time between clients still counted towards your 24 hour service punishment. In other areas. You would have to spend 24 total hours pleasuring people. You’re kind of glad you chose this area now. Who cares if you had to stay in this body? You would have to do this for weeks to get your old body back. It wasn’t worth it. You’ve had 6 customers since the first two men:

At around 8 AM a teenager got 15 minutes of type 3 service. He had turned on privacy mode (which made your cage appear to be a black wall from the outside and only allowed the client to pass through it), told you to bend over and fucked you in the ass for 5 minutes while your stupid body just kept moaning and telling him to fuck you harder. He had paid for 15 minutes but he decided to leave when he came in you. He left you frozen in that position though, so you stood there sticking your ass out at nobody for 10 minutes.

At 9:30 AM a really big guy bought type 2 and made you close your eyes while he pinned you up against the pillar and groped your tits and ass for 30 straight minutes. He disabled your speech on the machine, but you still moaned every time you were squeezed. You’ll never admit it, but it felt really good. You tried imagining that it was a woman groping you, but the hands were just too big and strong.

At noon, you got gangbanged. 6 guys. For 2 hours. You couldn’t stand up for 30 minutes afterward. Even the machine felt bad for you. It was so traumatizing that your mind repressed the memory as soon as it was over. You don’t remember how the orgasms felt and you don’t want to. You won’t dwell on it any further.

The client at 3 PM was pretty standard. He just fucked you missionary style. You were kind of relieved when he didn’t do anything weird. Then you realized; “Oh my god, why am I glad? I’m still getting fucked by a guy!” But your train of thought was interrupted when you came. It felt good. “Fuck it, I’ll question my sanity tomorrow.”

You didn’t mind your 6 PM client at all. She dropped a bag full of underwear in your cage, bought type 1 service, and made you try on different pairs of bras and panties while she took pictures. Apparently she worked for an underwear company or something? When her time ran out, she left, letting you keep the underwear you had on. At least you have something on underneath your clothes now.

At 9 PM you were turned into a bimbo. Yeah, apparently there’s a button that does that. You became really airheaded, slutty, and you craved dick. It wasn’t just your body moving on its own. The bimbo button made you really genuinely want to get dicked. There was also a cumslut button. That one got pressed too. It took you 30 minutes of licking to get all the cum off your tits and out of your hair.

There are two hours left until this torture is over. You’re dreading what might happen next. You wait in your sexy pose. Every time somebody walks even a bit too close to your control box you wince. Or at least you would wince if you could stop smiling and/or licking your lips at every passersby. After 30 minutes of waiting you see the cute girl who winked at you earlier. To your surprise, she gives you a mischievous smile, walks over to your control box, and buys 1 hour and 30 minutes of type 3 service. That’s the rest of your sentence. She walks into your cage and turn on private mode. “You can drop the act you’re being forced to do. Just talk like yourself okay?” she says, as she slowly walks closer and closer. You back away nervously until your back is against the pillar. “So you’re just here till midnight right?” she asks.

“Y-yeah,” you stutter. “How did you know?”

“I just did a bit of research. I saw you out here this morning and I couldn’t help myself really. I also found out you’re stuck in this body. Is that true?” she asks, putting a hand on the pillar next to your head.

“Yeah, it is,” you admit, your face turning red.

“Do you even have anywhere to go once you’re free? What are you gonna do?” she asks.

“I… don’t really know.” You hadn’t thought about what to do once you were allowed to leave.

“Wanna come live at my place?” As she asks this, she leans into you, pressing her body against yours. Her breasts feel so good pressed against yours. She now has both hands on the pillar, trapping you. Not that you wanted to escape.

“W-what?! Live with you?!” You’re caught off guard by her proposition. You feel so hot and flustered that you can barely process what she’s asking.

“Yeah. Come live with me,” she says. “You don’t even have to pay rent or anything. Money’s never been an issue for me. Just do all the housekeeping. And trust me, it’s a nice place.”

“That’s all? And you’ll let me live there as long as I want?”

“Yep,” she replies. This feels almost too good to be true. You’re about to accept her offer when she says; “Actually, there is one little catch.”

“What is it?” you ask, slightly worried.

“This whole sex slave thing; keep doing this.”

“What?! B-but I do-” you try to protest but she puts her hand over your mouth.

“Relax. I don’t mean out here on the street. I don’t want you to work for everyone, just for me.” she explains and starts slowly and gently removing your clothes.

“J-just for you? L-like, I’d be your girlfriend?” you whimper. You don’t try to stop her hands from undressing you. This is the first time today you actually wanted a client to touch you.

“Well I was thinking you could be my maid. But we can be girlfriends too if you want,” she says softly into your ear. “I’ll take you to fancy dinners and other places couples go, but when we’re alone, you’ll call me mistress.”

“W-w-well, I h-haven’t d-decided yet,” you stammer. You’re lying. You’re more than ready to be this girl’s kinky maid from now on. You don’t even know her name and you’re already hers.

“Well, are you open to persuasion?” she asks, as she finishes stripping you down to your underwear.

“O-of course,” you reply teasingly.

“Well how about I ask after about 90 minutes of “persuasion?” You feel her hand reach into your panties.

“I’ll probably have decided by then,” you giggle.

It doesn’t take that long. About 20 minutes of being dominated later, you start calling her mistress. Your mistress is clearly happy to hear your decision. She pins you down and fucks you till midnight. Then the two of you head to her house and immediately start going at it again once you arrive. Your daily work from that point on consists of minimal chores and cooking… and sex of course. You call each other by name when her friends and family are around, and you refer to her only as mistress when you’re alone with her. You don’t even mind being forced into the girl’s role in the relationship, you actually find that you prefer it. Every day is 3 times as perfect as the last, except on the rare occasion where you suddenly lose control of your body and find yourself working as a public servant again. Those days, however, are few and far between. You’re still kind of a slave if you think about it, but you don’t really want freedom anymore.

Description

You wake up on a sidewalk. It’s early in the morning, the sun has just barely come out. Confused, you sit up quickly and feel the breasts you definitely didn’t have yesterday jiggle as you do so. “What the-?!” you start to say, stopping as you hear your voice which is much higher than it’s supposed to be. You look past your new found C-cups (which aren’t in a bra as you seem to have no underwear) at the rest of your scantily clad, goddess-like body. You’re confused at first, but then you start to remember what had happened when you were last conscious. You had been in court yesterday. You were accused (falsely) of molestation by a woman you merely bumped into by accident. You hadn’t been able to afford a lawyer. It seems you’ve been turned into a PALPS (Public Access Leisure and Pleasure Servant) as punishment. “They turned me into a coin operated sex slave for bumping into somebody? Bullshit!” Furious, you look around hoping to see the people who had brought you here. Unfortunately, nobody else is around. You look up and down the street you’ve woken up next to, and at all the buildings. It seems you’re going to be serving in a high class residential area. The place looks quite a bit nicer than your neighbourhood. “Shit, plenty of people can probably afford me in a neighbourhood this nice.” You have only used the increasingly popular PALPS service once before. Even though you only paid enough to have a girl pose for you for a few minutes, it still costed quite a bit. But anyone wealthy enough to live here could no doubt afford to make you do much more intimate things. “Is this just karma? Is this what I get for using that girl in the park? Dammit, I didn’t do anything to deserve getting raped! Oh god, all the rich people around here are gonna have a field day with me! I don’t wanna lose my virginity to a guy!” You slowly become more and more panicky. “Aggh! What the fu-” your mouth seems to freeze mid-sentence.

*BEEP* Servants in high class sectors of the city are not aloud to use vulgar language unless doing so would please or attract a client.

A robotic voice comes from a pole-mounted metal box a few meters away. “Is that my control box?” You stand up and try to walk over to it but you can only take one step before you run into the wall of your cage. You know all servant girls are kept in invisible cages, just like the one you used. It appears you are no exception. You feel around the edge of your cage for all of about 10 seconds before you become furious at how small it is. The cage only reaches a few feet out from the pillar you woke up next to. “Why is it so small?!” you scream and throw a punch at the cage wall. However, you hand stops on its own before it hits the edge of your cage.

*BEEP* Servant in high class sectors are not allowed to harm themselves. Punching your cage would cause damage to your hand. I will now relay all additional rules you will be following during your sentence. 1.) You will not masturbate or otherwise sexually stimulate yourself unless a client makes you do so. This includes any touching of your vagina, squeezing or massaging your breasts, pinching your nipples, etc. 2.) You are not allowed to wear clothes that cover more skin than your current outfit until your sentence has concluded. 3.) When other people are within line of sight, you will adopt an appealing pose and facial expression so as to attract clients. 4.) You will talk in a sexually arousing and provocative manner at all times during designated daytime hours and whenever a client is within earshot regardless of what time it is. Please note that designated daytime hours begin in two minutes. 5.) Because you are a high-class servant, you will remain in your new body after your sentence is over. This is so that, in the the unlikely event that we can’t fill one of our servant stations in this district for a period of time, we may take control of your body again and have you take shifts and pleasure clients until the position is filled again.

“Ugh, why did I have to be put in this district?” you say as an overwhelming sense of dread washes over you.

You chose to be put in a high-class district instead of a mid-class or low-class at the end of your trial.

“Why would I choose that?!” you ask in disbelief.

I only have access to the part of your brain that controls your body, not the conscious decision making part. But if I were to make an educated guess, it’s probably because clients in low and mid-class districts are able to exploit loopholes in our servant rules rules. Are you familiar with the rules for all 3 tiers of service.

“No…Only type 1 and… and 2. H-how about… y-you… f-fill me up with some of your sweet sticky knowledge?” you ask as your voice becomes more sultry and your work choice becomes more… suggestive. “I guess daytime hours have started. Now I get to look AND sound like a slut. Fantastic.”

Type 3 services allow the client to control their servant with normal speech instead of just reading exact commands as listed on the control panel. It also allows the insertion of body parts, bodily fluids, objects, etc. The only restrictions that apply are that clients may not cause any injury to their servant that would require hospitalization. Basically, in this sector, the programs which detect rule violations are more up to date. There is an additional rule that states that if a rule is broken because of a servant’s own chosen actions rather than her client’s, the client won’t be punished. Servants in mid-class districts have been getting mouths and asses full of cum when only providing type 2 service recently. Some servants in low-class areas have even been seriously injured before. In high-class districts, servants have less dignity and more security, it’s a win win.

“Well, at least they have to be gentle when they handle me around here.” you say in an increasingly slutty tone of voice. Your sexy, seductive voice is quite the contrast to your body, which is standing almost completely still. “I’m sure the machine is going to make my body language match my voice once people start coming by.”

There is also a tier called “special services,” which is reserved for platinum members. Shall I explain it?

“Oooooohhh yeaaahhhhh. I already know how to service people, but how do I make it special?” your voice is beginning to turn you on now. You wish you could touch yourself.

Special service entails type 3 service over a long period of time. Clients are allowed to take their servant wherever they want for 24 hours. It’s essentially a rental service.

“Oooooohh, sounds fun. I hope somebody rents me,” you say. “No, no I don’t. Shut up.” You’re about to ask more when your body pins itself against the pillar and your legs spread themselves invitingly. “Why can’t I move?” You sit like that for a minute. Just looking sexy, not moving at all. You hear footsteps coming down the sidewalk from behind. You can’t see them coming, but there are people walking down the sidewalk towards you. “Oh no.” They finally reach the pillar you’re pinning yourself against. It’s too men who look to be in their 20s. As soon as you see them, you beckon them with your left hand, licking your lips seductively. “Please don’t.” They do. You watch as the money enters the machine. Luckily they only pay enough for 5 minutes of type 1 service. “At least they don’t get to touch me.” They press a button. You start slowly and erotically taking off your clothes while dancing. Both men are recording your dance on their phones while they watch. “I can’t even be mad at them can I? I took pictures when I made that girl do all those poses.” They press another button. This button prompts you to start telling the men, in excessive detail, how much you desperately want their dicks and exactly what you want to do to them. You tell them you desperately want to suck one off them off while jerking the other and vice versa. You tell them you want to ride on the first guy’s cock while you squeeze his friend’s dick between your tits and jiggle them up and down. You mimic the motion with your tits, which actually feels really good. “I’ll make sure to drink up every last drop of cum afterwards. And if there’s still some left in your dicks, I’ll suck it out. That sounds good right?” you say as you finish taking off your clothes. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

Once their time is finally up, they walk away, leaving you naked, humiliated, and… really horny for some reason. “Fuck, I really wish I could touch myself.” As you start putting your clothes back on, a short, cute black-haired girl and two girls who seem to be her friends pass you by. Her friends try not to look at you, but as soon as they aren’t watching, the black-haired girl gives you a quick wink and then continues on her way. You can’t help but blush a bit, she’s exactly your type. “That was… interesting.” You don’t have time to ponder on this exchange though because as soon as you’re finished dressing, your body is back to doing sexy poses and flirting with people as they pass by. “That felt way longer than five minutes. This is gonna be a long day.”

---

It’s 10 PM. You have 2 hours left in your sentence. Luckily for you, being stationed in a high-class area meant the time between clients still counted towards your 24 hour service punishment. In other areas. You would have to spend 24 total hours pleasuring people. You’re kind of glad you chose this area now. Who cares if you had to stay in this body? You would have to do this for weeks to get your old body back. It wasn’t worth it. You’ve had 6 customers since the first two men:

At around 8 AM a teenager got 15 minutes of type 3 service. He had turned on privacy mode (which made your cage appear to be a black wall from the outside and only allowed the client to pass through it), told you to bend over and fucked you in the ass for 5 minutes while your stupid body just kept moaning and telling him to fuck you harder. He had paid for 15 minutes but he decided to leave when he came in you. He left you frozen in that position though, so you stood there sticking your ass out at nobody for 10 minutes.

At 9:30 AM a really big guy bought type 2 and made you close your eyes while he pinned you up against the pillar and groped your tits and ass for 30 straight minutes. He disabled your speech on the machine, but you still moaned every time you were squeezed. You’ll never admit it, but it felt really good. You tried imagining that it was a woman groping you, but the hands were just too big and strong.

At noon, you got gangbanged. 6 guys. For 2 hours. You couldn’t stand up for 30 minutes afterward. Even the machine felt bad for you. It was so traumatizing that your mind repressed the memory as soon as it was over. You don’t remember how the orgasms felt and you don’t want to. You won’t dwell on it any further.

The client at 3 PM was pretty standard. He just fucked you missionary style. You were kind of relieved when he didn’t do anything weird. Then you realized; “Oh my god, why am I glad? I’m still getting fucked by a guy!” But your train of thought was interrupted when you came. It felt good. “Fuck it, I’ll question my sanity tomorrow.”

You didn’t mind your 6 PM client at all. She dropped a bag full of underwear in your cage, bought type 1 service, and made you try on different pairs of bras and panties while she took pictures. Apparently she worked for an underwear company or something? When her time ran out, she left, letting you keep the underwear you had on. At least you have something on underneath your clothes now.

At 9 PM you were turned into a bimbo. Yeah, apparently there’s a button that does that. You became really airheaded, slutty, and you craved dick. It wasn’t just your body moving on its own. The bimbo button made you really genuinely want to get dicked. There was also a cumslut button. That one got pressed too. It took you 30 minutes of licking to get all the cum off your tits and out of your hair.

There are two hours left until this torture is over. You’re dreading what might happen next. You wait in your sexy pose. Every time somebody walks even a bit too close to your control box you wince. Or at least you would wince if you could stop smiling and/or licking your lips at every passersby. After 30 minutes of waiting you see the cute girl who winked at you earlier. To your surprise, she gives you a mischievous smile, walks over to your control box, and buys 1 hour and 30 minutes of type 3 service. That’s the rest of your sentence. She walks into your cage and turn on private mode. “You can drop the act you’re being forced to do. Just talk like yourself okay?” she says, as she slowly walks closer and closer. You back away nervously until your back is against the pillar. “So you’re just here till midnight right?” she asks.

“Y-yeah,” you stutter. “How did you know?”

“I just did a bit of research. I saw you out here this morning and I couldn’t help myself really. I also found out you’re stuck in this body. Is that true?” she asks, putting a hand on the pillar next to your head.

“Yeah, it is,” you admit, your face turning red.

“Do you even have anywhere to go once you’re free? What are you gonna do?” she asks.

“I… don’t really know.” You hadn’t thought about what to do once you were allowed to leave.

“Wanna come live at my place?” As she asks this, she leans into you, pressing her body against yours. Her breasts feel so good pressed against yours. She now has both hands on the pillar, trapping you. Not that you wanted to escape.

“W-what?! Live with you?!” You’re caught off guard by her proposition. You feel so hot and flustered that you can barely process what she’s asking.

“Yeah. Come live with me,” she says. “You don’t even have to pay rent or anything. Money’s never been an issue for me. Just do all the housekeeping. And trust me, it’s a nice place.”

“That’s all? And you’ll let me live there as long as I want?”

“Yep,” she replies. This feels almost too good to be true. You’re about to accept her offer when she says; “Actually, there is one little catch.”

“What is it?” you ask, slightly worried.

“This whole sex slave thing; keep doing this.”

“What?! B-but I do-” you try to protest but she puts her hand over your mouth.

“Relax. I don’t mean out here on the street. I don’t want you to work for everyone, just for me.” she explains and starts slowly and gently removing your clothes.

“J-just for you? L-like, I’d be your girlfriend?” you whimper. You don’t try to stop her hands from undressing you. This is the first time today you actually wanted a client to touch you.

“Well I was thinking you could be my maid. But we can be girlfriends too if you want,” she says softly into your ear. “I’ll take you to fancy dinners and other places couples go, but when we’re alone, you’ll call me mistress.”

“W-w-well, I h-haven’t d-decided yet,” you stammer. You’re lying. You’re more than ready to be this girl’s kinky maid from now on. You don’t even know her name and you’re already hers.

“Well, are you open to persuasion?” she asks, as she finishes stripping you down to your underwear.

“O-of course,” you reply teasingly.

“Well how about I ask after about 90 minutes of “persuasion?” You feel her hand reach into your panties.

“I’ll probably have decided by then,” you giggle.

It doesn’t take that long. About 20 minutes of being dominated later, you start calling her mistress. Your mistress is clearly happy to hear your decision. She pins you down and fucks you till midnight. Then the two of you head to her house and immediately start going at it again once you arrive. Your daily work from that point on consists of minimal chores and cooking… and sex of course. You call each other by name when her friends and family are around, and you refer to her only as mistress when you’re alone with her. You don’t even mind being forced into the girl’s role in the relationship, you actually find that you prefer it. Every day is 3 times as perfect as the last, except on the rare occasion where you suddenly lose control of your body and find yourself working as a public servant again. Those days, however, are few and far between. You’re still kind of a slave if you think about it, but you don’t really want freedom anymore.