Mindless Toy

Derek Haynes opened a bottle of champagne and looked at his two guests, world renowned music critic Arty Nash, and six-times Grammy Award Winner Cameron Rahl. “Trust me on this, my friends. We have a new star in our hands,” he said.

Arty shrugged, his square shoulders almost disappearing under the loose burgundy clothes he loved to wear so much. “I’ve lost count at how many times you’ve said that already.”

“So have I,” Cameron muttered, his eyes begging for something more than alcoholic stupor to end that long Saturday night. “What’s different this time around, huh?”

“She is,” Derek replied, a glamorous picture of a barely legal brunette in his other hand. She wore an asymmetric black latex mini-dress and varnished boots any good submissive would love to lick. Long dark hair dripped in waves over her sumptuous breasts. She was a feast for the eyes, sore or not.

“All I see is another hot chick,” Arty continued, his words doing nothing to betray the boredom deep inside. “You’ve produced plenty in the past. but they all faded away quickly. So will this one.”

“Not this time.”

“What makes you so sure then?” Cameron insisted, grabbing the bottle to himself when the flute proved too small for his urges.

“This girl really knows to sing and her mixing skills… wow! What she showed me is the clear work of a professional in the making.”

“Right… don’t you mean the clear work of a real professional she hired to impress you and you fell for it?” Arty snorted.

“You really think I’m that much of a fool, Arty? Seriously?”

“Stop with the innocence act. It wouldn’t be the first time you thought with your cock instead of your actual brain to select the girls you want to work with. Unless you show me something to the contrary. I have no reason to doubt the pattern.”

“What she said,” Cameron gurgled. That the once called “Gentle Giant of Country Music” was nothing more than a horny drunk nowadays was something everyone knew but his downfall still hurt.

“That’s why I called you here. Compressed versions of her music don’t do it any justice. You need to listen to it, live.”

Both men talked at the same time. “Live? You mean…?”

“Amber, dear, please come out and give these two old fools a lesson they will never forget.”

“My pleasure.”

Amber Lynn appeared from behind them, wearing the same get-up of her sexy photo-shoot, hips swaying like an uncontrolled hurricane about to hit shore. The body was there and so was the voice, silky overtones everywhere. She held a silver microphone to her warm lips as if it were a juicy cock. “I hope you’re ready to be blown away.”

They weren’t. She winked, and the world exploded in sound. With over four decades in the music industry combined, the two men believed they had heard everything, that there were no secrets left to unearth, yet the hypnotic synth waves rising from the depths of silence caught them unawares, their eyes widening as she sang:

 

The truth you thought would be left unspoken

Rises again and now the rules are broken

So listen good and let your juices flow

It’s time to learn who runs this show

 

The world of men is nothing but a farce

Of raging cocks where thoughts are sparse

If left unchecked, it will surely reek

Without control, everything is bleak

 

But if you stare deep into my eyes

You’ll know that beauty tells no lies

The more you gaze, the more you will see

How everything is meant to be.

 

A woman’s rule is what you need.

Sacred devotion, a brand-new creed

What pussy says is what shall be done

Give me your tongue and let’s have fun.

 

Oh yes, yes, yes right there

Your ego lost to a divine prayer

This is the path to eternal joy

Accept your role as a mindless toy.

 

This is the path to eternal joy

Accept your role as a mindless toy.

 

This is the path to eternal joy

Accept your role as a mindless toy.

 

“What did I say?” Derek grinned. “She’s a star, a Goddess, Power incarnate, isn’t she?”

“Most definitely,” Cameron drooled, lapping at her snatch like a dog in heat.

“I want some too,” Arty pushed him.

“My pussy isn’t going anywhere, pets, if…”

“Yes, Goddess?” They begged.

“… you get me famous worldwide in no time for my joy deserves to reach everyone.”

“Of course, Goddess. Anything for you, Goddess.”

“Anything, huh?” She twirled and sat on Derek’s desk. “What do you think of a good ass fucking?”

“That would be wonderful,” Cameron noted.

“Oh yes, Goddess. Fuck us, please!” Arty groveled.

“I’d rather watch. Derek, my slave, be a dear and fuck Cameron while he fucks Arty, will you?”

“As you command, Goddess.”

Her giggles weren’t loud enough to muzzle the concert of moans that followed. When morning came, the stern and dark office was all sticky and white. No one has been able to clean it yet.


 

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S. B.

Simple Being, Middle name Creative. Writer and artist with a penchant for themes of Female Domination, Hypnosis and Mind Control. My thoughts are my own except when they're not.

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