Alicia saw the flash of metal, as her high heels clicked briskly across the subway platform from the train toward the stairs. Though she was in a hurry to get to work, she HAD to pause and stoop down to pick it up. Crouched near the ground, she could now tell it was a quarter — and already her pussy was throbbing with the thought of what she was going to do with it. But just as Alicia’s fingers were about to close on the coin, another hand snatched it away from her. A hand in a tattered knit glove. Attached to an arm in an even more tattered jacket. She looked up at the careworn face with the scraggly beard — brown, with flecks of gray.

“Please, Miss,” he said. “Spare change? I haven’t eaten in three days.” The man held out his left hand, palm upward. There was a sour smell, like he hadn’t bathed in weeks.

Alicia hesitated a moment. It was only a coin. But in the back of her mind, Master’s voice echoed. Her nipples were suddenly so hard. She could not deny Master’s command, His compulsion. She looked down at the scraggly man. He was hunched over, trying to look downtrodden as possible. “Please,” Alicia said, “I need that quarter.”

The panhandler looked her up and down. “Frankly, Miss, I need it more than you.” He continued to stand there, huddled, holding out his hand. Clearly hoping for sympathy. Hoping for more.

Unable to think what to do, Alicia watched the man’s face suddenly crumple, with an echo of an accusation. The image of the smooth, shiny quarter filled her thoughts, and she bit her lip. He started to turn away.

“Wait!” she said. She opened her purse and rummaged in it for a moment. Then she pulled out a 20-dollar bill. “You can have this if you give me the quarter.”

The man lifted his right hand, the quarter pinched between thumb and forefinger. His bloodshot, blue eyes stared up at Alicia, offering a fair exchange. His open palm twitched, the fingers wiggling — beckoning her to drop the twenty into his hand.

Purse tightly under her right elbow, Alicia reached out with her left hand — palm upward in imitation of the beggar — while her right hand brought the bill closer and closer to him. She felt, rather than saw, as he dropped his right hand — pressing the coin into her palm — and grabbed the twenty, then turned and walked quickly away, before she could change her mind.

Her mind. “Cum!” she could hear in her mind. Her Master’s voice. Alicia pressed her knees together, as her hand grasped the coin tightly. Eyes unfocused. Lids drooping. Waves of pleasure rippled through her body.

* * * * * *

“Hold, please!” Alicia trotted toward the elevator, her heels echoing in the hallway. Nobody moved, and the doors began to close. But she managed to slip a hand through the light beam, and heard all the passengers sigh with impatience as the doors opened again. She stepped in, turned back toward the opening, and said sweetly, “Twenty-four, please.” A tired-looking man, nearly squashed against the panel of buttons, pressed one of them, and looked up at the ceiling, waiting. There was a gentle chime, the doors closed, and the elevator began to rise.

* * * * * *

Alicia knelt on the floor, her mouth full of the taste of her Master’s sperm. Swallowing in little droplets. Savoring the sweet, musky flavor.

“Cum,” Master commanded. And Alicia curled downward into a little ball, her face against the carpet, as the waves rolled through her one after another. “Cum, slave! Cum!”

She whimpered, and moaned, her pussy pulsing, throbbing, dripping. She could hear snapping sounds as her cunt squeezed and opened, clenching on nothing. Smack! Smack! Smack! Like loud, smoochy kisses. Sloppy and wet.

“Cum!” Master snapped his fingers. “Cum!” Another snap. “Cum!” And another. Alicia’s hips pumped, trying to impale her empty cunt on the air. Her nipples rubbed into the carpet — her only physical contact — teasing her, tormenting her with its delicious roughness. “Cum!” Master commanded. His fingers snapped, an inch away from her face, and Alicia squealed, wiggling her hips. “Cum! Cum! Cum!”

Her tongue flicked out, still coated with Master’s jism, licking the air, licking the floor. Hoping to lick his fingers. Desperate to touch something! Flicking and licking the rough shag carpet. Aching to please. “Cum! Cum! Cum!” Alicia cried out, now, with every orgasm. Her hips bucked. Her eyes were tightly closed. Her nose and lips and tongue rubbed back and forth, up and down, on the rug — while her hands hung limply at her sides.

“Cum! Cum! Cum! — SLEEP!” Master’s command sent Alicia into a deep trance. Every time He hypnotized her like this, every time He forced her into orgasm after orgasm, she became more and more dependent upon Him. More and more eager to please. She couldn’t even remember what conditioning He imposed on her, after sending her into this deep level. She only remembered waking up, gazing into His eyes, sucking on His thumb while His fingers held her chin in His hand. Still kneeling on the floor, she was upright now, her hands cupping her own breasts, the nails of her thumbs and forefingers digging deep into the nipples.

* * * * * *

She remembered the before-time. The vibrators — so many different kinds! And madly stroking her clit with her fingers, while Master forced her into orgasm after orgasm. She’d given up counting. Some days it had seemed like cumming made her want to cum again. Instantly. For hours and hours. And then Master had started withholding the vibrators, forbidding Alicia to touch herself.

Master held the vibrator in front of Alicia’s eyes. Forcing her to watch, listen to it buzz. Shiny and metallic. She found it hard to focus on it. The shiny metal seemed to shimmer in the air. It seemed to have no solid surface.

“You can feel it on your clit, can’t you, slave?” Master teased. “You can feel the long, thick shaft deep inside you. Filling you. Forcing your closer… and closer…”

He told her to remember what it felt like, leaping over that edge, blissfully falling into one orgasm after another. She had to remember… and need it again. Need it so much. Desire it. Ache for it. “No — no hands, little slave. Your arms are paralyzed. Remember the vibrator… the humming… The sensation of your pussy flowering open, then tightening around the shaft. So tight! So wet! So good!”

He dangled a sparkly, shimmering crystal in front of her eyes. Watch the crystal. Watch the flashes of light. So close to another orgasm. Candles, and flickering flames. How long since she had cum? Hours? Days? She wanted it so badly.

Long walks in the park, watching the afternoon sunlight flickering off the surface of the lake, while Master talked to her. Softly. Gently. She couldn’t remember what about. But her pussy was on fire. Wearing no panties under her skirt, Alicia’s legs grew wet as her juices trickled down between her thighs. Master held her hand — both hands, together behind her. As if they were bound there, handcuffed. His firm, gentle grip made her arch her back, thrusting her breasts up and forward. They wanted so much to be fondled. Squeezed. Her nipples burned as hot as her pussy.

Finally, she was so desperate, his word was enough. “Cum!” He commanded.

The waves of pleasure were tiny, at first. Kneeling, sitting on her heels, Alicia pushed her hips forward — closing her eyes, riding the gentle sensations that only made her want more. Her downfall, of course. More and more, Master’s commands to cum drove her into orgasms that passed mere ecstasy, and became almost religious experiences. She no longer had any choice, any resistance. Master’s command to cum was like holding her breath and being commanded to breathe. She HAD to obey — and feel like her life centered on Master, on His commands, on His ownership of her body and mind.

Her pussy was always so wet. And always — always — so empty!

The need to be touched, to be filled — to be FUCKED — had begun to overwhelm her. To occupy Alicia’s thoughts more and more — even as she came helplessly at nothing more than Master’s command, the tone of His voice, the desire to please Him!

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