Part II: Carrie Takes Her Work Home

Every aspect of Carrie's life changed the day her mother, Cassandra, had met her end. Even Carrie's own home would provide no escape from her new role in life.

Carrie shared her home with one of her best friends, Hilary. The two of them had been close since a very young age, and as they had matured so had their relationship. Together they had explored their sexuality. Though they were sometimes lovers, they were more friends with benefits than lesbian partners.

Throughout their lives, Carrie had always been the dominant personality. It was true as friends, it was true as roommates, and it was especially true as lovers. However, the day of Cassandra's sexecution, everything changed.

After the office party, Carrie had been looking forward to getting home. She was physically exhausted from the relentless use of her body by her coworkers and emotionally exhausted from her conflicting fear, loss, and arousal at the death of her mother. She desperately wanted a shower. She had no idea how she was going to begin relating the day's events to Hilary. Carrie hoped that when she got home Hilary would be in her room and she'd have the chance to get to the bathroom without being seen in her current semen glazed state.

When she got home, Carrie looked at herself in the car's vanity mirror. Her makeup had run and her blonde hair was plastered down. If Hilary saw her, there was no hiding what she'd been up to that day.

It was late when she turned her key in the lock. Still it wasn't unusual for her to work late, it came with being a lawyer. She quietly opened the door and peered in. No Hilary. Carrie closed the door and made a beeline for the bathroom. The door was closed. Damn, Hilary was in there.

Carrie headed to her room. She pushed open the half closed door and flipped the light switch. She stopped cold. Hilary was sitting on the edge of her bed. She was completely naked and had several of Carrie's sex toys lying on the bed beside her. She also had a small vibrator between her legs. "It's about time you got home, Carrie. I've been waiting so long I finally decided to start without you. But I still need your tongue."

Carrie was stunned, this was not like Hilary. Of course it would be today she was too horny to stand to wait. "I really need a shower first. It's been a long day."

Hilary grabbed up a riding crop and slapped it hard on the night stand. "Get over here and tongue me, bitch! If you aren't on your knees in ten seconds the next slap goes across your ass!"

Carrie was taken aback. This was very unlike Hilary. And why had she said nothing about Carrie's appearance. It wasn't possible that she hadn't noticed, so she was ignoring it for some reason. Carrie didn't realize how long she'd been frozen in shock until Hilary moved to stand.

'She's really going to do it,' Carrie suddenly realized when she saw the look in her friend's eyes. Carrie quickly dropped to her knees. She pushed the other girls knees apart and buried her face in Hilary's groin.

Hilary wrapped her legs around Carrie's head to hold her firmly in place. She moaned loudly as the beautiful blonde between her thighs flicked her tongue rapidly over her clit. She'd obviously already cum once while waiting for Carrie and it didn't take long for her to climax again. And again. And again. She held Carrie fast for as long as she could stand the feel of her tongue on her clit. Her screams intensified with each fresh orgasm.

The pressure on Carrie's head increased the more her friend fought the overwhelming electric sensation of Carrie's tongue on her clit. Carrie could hardly breathe and she feared she'd be suffocated in Hilary's snatch. Carrie couldn't help herself, and she was fingering herself to her umpteenth orgasm of the day. Hilary let out a piercing scream as she reached yet another peak of ecstasy, but she could stand no more and released Carrie, kicking her away.

Carrie fell backwards, barely catching herself. Both women panted heavily as they tried to regain their breath and strength from the effort of cumming. "What was that?" Carrie asked.

Hilary smiled, but it was not the warm smile she was used to seeing from her friend. "Your mother called me this morning and told me what her plan was. She knew full well that you've always dominated our relationship and that you'd try even harder to control me when you lost all control at work." Hilary stood, picked up the riding crop, and stepped toward Carrie. "She made me promise I would keep you in your place." Hilary caressed Carrie's face with the tip of the riding crop causing her to flinch. "Oh how I wish I could have been there to watch her dance of death at the end of the rope."

As she looked up at her friend, Carrie realized that the last measure of control over her own life had been taken away…her mother had seen to that. "Actually, she didn't strangle to death. They thought she was dead when they cut her down, but she'd actually just passed out. She was still alive when they cut her head off to roast her," Carrie said, feeling for a moment that maybe her mother had gotten what she deserved.

"Oh, yes," Hilary said as she started to message her tits. "Two shows for the price of one. Did her body jerk all over when her head was taken off?"

"No." When Carrie saw the look on Hilary's face, she knew a one word answer would not suffice. She'd never had any idea her Hilary had harbored such dark desires. She not only wanted to enslave and dominate Carrie, but had fantasies of Cassandra's execution as well. "Mom was still unconscious when the managing partner started to slice through her neck with a giant knife. But the first cut brought her around."

Hilary giggled, "Yeah, I'm sure she felt that. She probably came so hard as he sliced her head off. Cassie was such a snuff slut."

Did everyone know this about her mom but her? "I think she did. At least her face looked like it. She had to have at least gotten close, because she came afterwards."

Hilary laughed. "She came after she was beheaded? How the hell did she manage that?"

Carrie blushed as she answered, and Hilary knew it took a LOT to embarrass this girl. "That bitch, Samantha, forced me to eat the boss's jizz out of mom's pussy. Her head was already off, but she somehow came in my mouth anyway."

Hilary practically fell off the bed laughing at her. "Well, at least you got the chance to pay your final respects, right?" It took a minute or two for her to stop laughing and sit up straight again. When she did, Hilary picked something up off of the bed and held it out to Carrie. "Put this on." Carrie took the object and realized instantly that it was a vinyl dog collar. She looked up at Hilary about to say something, but she wasn't given the chance as Hilary barked, suddenly very serious, "Put it on! And don't ever take it off." Carrie obeyed. "Now strip."

Carrie stood up. She had no idea how may times she's been naked in front of this girl, but now she was embarrassed at being forced to reveal her body on command. She dropped her coat on a nearby chair, followed by her shirt, bra, and skirt. Lastly she slipped out of her panties. As she dropped them with the rest of her garments, she suddenly cried out in pain as the riding crop left a red mark across her ass. "But, Hilary-" she began to protest, but was silenced by another sharp blow from the crop against her butt cheeks.

"The first was for not licking my clit when I told you to. The second was for calling me Hilary. From now on you will address me as 'mistress' or 'my lady'. Do you understand?" Carrie only nodded as her eyes welled up. Hilary then stepped up and kissed he tenderly. "Don't take it too hard, my love. After a lifetime of you making me feel whipped, you are finally in your rightful place. Don't you agree?" Hilary asked as she took a step back again.

Carrie knew she must accept her new role. "Yes…… mistress," she replied quietly as she looked at the floor. She winched as Hilary extended the riding crop toward her again, but this time she placed it gently under Carrie's chin to coax her head up.

"But Carrie, if you ever call me by name again, you'll find out what this feels like across your face."

"Yes, mistress," Carrie responded quickly. She believed the threat and feared it.

"Now go shower. You're filthy."

"Thank you," Carrie said as she crossed to her dresser. The riding crop found her ass, yet again.

"Oh Carrie, did I not mention? You will no long enjoy the privilege of wearing clothes around the house. You may wear them to work, but when you are with me, you will wear only your collar, unless I tell you otherwise. Understood?"

"Of course, my lady," Carrie said. She slowly left the room, expecting the sting of the crop again at any moment. She went to the bathroom, turned the water on as hot as she could stand, and stepped in. As the steaming water cascaded over her aching body, Carrie felt like a real person again for the first time since stepping into the conference room that morning. As she washed herself, she couldn't help but wonder if she still was a real person, or was she now just an object to every person she knew. She also couldn't help but wonder why the thought of being treated as a mere object turned her on so much.

When she'd gotten up this morning, she'd been a lawyer with a bright career in her future. Now she was just a sex toy and her limited future held only servitude, pain, and the knowledge that she would not see the next year.

As she got out of the shower and toweled off, she looked in the mirror. The water had darkened her blonde hair and made her look even more like her mother. The mother who had orchestrated everything that had happened to her today. The mother who had devised her humiliation at work. The mother who had devised her humiliation at home. The mother who had devised her eventual death and consumption as food. The mother who had brought about her own death… which had aroused them both.

As Carrie opened the door and left the bathroom, she was startled be Hilary standing there waiting for her. A split second before she realized what was happening the riding crop stung her again, this time it was three strikes in rapid succession.

Carrie looked up at her friend with tears in her eyes. She didn't dare ask why, but she knew the question was clear.

"That," said Hilary with a cold smile, as Carrie wiped the tears from her cheeks, "was for not not bringing me leftovers."