Ashley barked a laugh, then continued in a fit of hysterical giggles. “Oh my God, this bitch is just too fucking priceless. You’re telling me you get off on being told you’re a good girl? Like a fucking dog?”
“Yes, mistress.”
She kept laughing, somewhere in the midst of it granting Emily permission to stand up again. She did, arms burning, waiting as patiently as she could, struggling to keep her servant face on.
For the next half hour, Ashley amused herself by using Emily like a puppet, testing to see if she had any limits, each test heightening Emily’s commitment that she would have none. Emily barked, she danced a strip tease, she performed various gymnastic feats, she baby-talked, she pleaded to be allowed to pleasure Ashley (rebuffed), then to be allowed to pleasure DJ (accepted).
She was well into her blowjob before Ashley stopped it by tugging backward on her hair, hard, knocking her from her knees to her butt. “Ashley!” DJ scolded. “What the hell!”
Ashley took Emily’s place, licking up and down his shaft as she gave him an apologetic look so fake Emily couldn’t believe he didn’t notice. “Sorry, baby, I just couldn’t stand by and watch dumb-dumb here give you a lackluster blowjob. Get your ass dressed, Toy—I want his eyes on me now.”
DJ was mollified by her tongue, but only somewhat. “Still, she could’ve bit my dick off, dammit.”
“Aww, well maybe I’ll just have to make it up to you.” She slid her red lips down his shaft, snugly wrapped, inch by cock-sucking inch.
The fight had mostly left him, but Emily was surprised to hear a defense of her come out of him. “You don’t have to be so rough with her, you know.” Like he was one to talk, role-playing raping her while she was handcuffed to a radiator.
Ashley slid the top few inches of his not-unimpressive cock into her throat, gurgling happily, before letting him slide back out. “You don’t think she gets off on it, being treated like a cheap little slut? Emily, tell him how much you like being treated like shit by us.”
It hadn’t been a question; it had been an unambiguous order. “Oh yes, mistress,” Emily gushed. “I love it when you and sir are hard on me.”
DJ didn’t notice the distinction; the blowjob was keeping his brain on low power mode. “Well, fair enough.” Accordingly, he didn’t object when—after she’d coaxed DJ into cumming again, this time all over the front of Emily’s purple dress—Ashley told Emily she was coming out with her today.
“Have a good day, hon,” a spent DJ murmured from his bed.
“Going back to sleep, ya bum? What is this, week three with no classes?”
“I went to a couple classes… last week.” He poked Ashley in the butt. “Besides, somebody kept me up all night.”
Ashley gasped. “Who, moi? Well next time I have an insatiable thirst for your cum I’ll just let you sleep through it.”
He pulled her down and kissed her goodbye. “You better not. Now you two have fun out there today.”
“We will. Now say goodbye to your fuck toy, and remember to reward her for her service.”
DJ, with what felt like a little hesitation at the presence of his girlfriend, patted Emily on the ass under her dress. “Good girl.”
Emily almost came. Almost. If not for Ashley’s sardonic grin, she thought she would have. God, what was wrong with her?
“And Ashley? Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“That leaves all kinds of open territory, doesn’t it?”
It did. Emily, still wearing DJ’s semen on her face, dress, and hair, followed Ashley meekly out into the hallway, and soon, upstairs to Ashley’s own room. Her mistress’ roommate balked at the sudden intrusion, then, when she saw Emily and her state, she made a disgusted face. “Is that…?!”
Ashley nodded, laughing. She ran out of the room.
“I have a feeling,” Ashley said, as she began changing out of what were evidently yesterday’s clothes, “that this is going to be a good day. Do you have that feeling?”
Emily frowned. “I don’t know what you’re trying to pull here, but this isn’t going to fly.”
“Toy, Toy, Toy. It’s not just going to fly, you’re gonna pilot the fuckin’ thing. You’re my bitch now. I own your scrawny ass.”
“The hell you do,” she said, folding her arms defiantly. As defiantly as she dared. Ashley’s scarf came off, and Emily was surprised—and disappointed—by the lack of bruising.
“Emily, fetch that pen and paper over there for me, would ya?”
Emily snorted. “Get it yourself, cunt.”
Ashley, with some effort, managed the clasp that had the herculean charge of supporting her titanic boobs for the day. “DJ told you to obey me, Emily. Do you really mean to tell me you can’t do something so simple for him?”
It was a taunt, plain and simple—but a fair point. Emily grabbed the stationery off of Ashley’s roommate’s desk and brought it over. “There, happy?”
“I am—what a good girl you are.” The bitch plainly watched her for her reaction; Emily tried not to let it show how excited the words made her, even coming from Ashley. Still, her nipples betrayed her, stabbing right out through the thin material of her cum-spotted dress. The moisture trickling down her thighs would have too if she’d bothered to look.
Ashley noticed. “Man, you are going to be so much fun to fuck with,” she said giddily.
“Look, I’ll follow you around, carry your fucking backpack or whatever, because DJ said so, but I’ll be damned if I’m gonna let you shit on me all day. I didn’t sign on for that.”
“Really? Because I seem to remember DJ telling you to obey me like you do him. When was that? Hmm… Oh yeah, it was an hour ago.”
“Yeah, well he’s not here now, is he.”
“What, you think I can’t just call him up and tell him?”
“If you do, I’ll just tell him you’re lying. He completely believes I’m his slave to my core, and he already sees through you at least a little bit. It’ll be my word versus yours, and in his presence, I’ll serve him so good he’ll never believe I could be lying.” Emily smirked. “So tell me again about how you’re going to tattle on me, Cindy Brady.”
Ashley’s expression darkened. “Toy… why, I never thought… you know, what you said earlier about proving you were a good girl, I really believed it. I actually thought you meant it when you said you could prove you were better than me, working past your dislike.”
“Hatred.”
“Yeah, that. To think I believed you might actually be able to live up to your own hype.”
“You’re not going to bait me with that bullshit. If you pick a fight with me, we both know what’ll happen if DJ’s not around to protect you.” She grinned smugly. “And if he is, I won’t fight back—I’ll be his meek, pathetic little slave girl, and the more you pick on me, the more he’ll take my side out of whatever passes for pity in that dumpster soul of his. Between a pushy bitch girlfriend and a wholly devoted slave, he’ll pick the second one, every time.”
Ashley tugged on her shirt, her back to Emily, who was eagerly awaiting the impotent rage her explanation would surely elicit. Instead… she wore a smug smile. “Well fine then. I’ll just go tell DJ how you feel about him.”
“Wait, what?”
“I’ll just go downstairs, and tell him the only reason you’re his slave is because he ruined your life and you despise him but you have to prove your tolerance is stronger than your hatred. That every second you’re in his presence fills you with revulson.”