hypnorotica:

Teresa groaned in frustration.  She stared in the mirror desperately looking for imperfection, some flaw she could point to, but it was no avail.  Her pussy was simply flawless.  

“I guess I am a sex slave.” She sighed with a resigned tone.

She hadn’t recognized the number and had expected it was spam as it opened up, but all it said was “Only a sex slave would have such a perfect twat like yours.”

She tried to laugh it off as some rando perv text, but for some reason she couldn’t get it out of her head.  Whenever her mind would wander in the car or before going to bed, it would return to that statement.

A sex slave is made for having sex. It would stand to reason a sex slave would have an exceptional body.

The thoughts would surprise her.  It felt like the time she’d spent a week trying to figure out a riddle her friend had told her.  Every waking moment she wasn’t focused on the task, her mind would pour over the text and try to make sense of it.  And as she tried to make sense of it, she started constructing an argument around it.

Someone with a perfect pussy would naturally be a perfect sex slave

She’d try to distract herself with movies or games, but the slightest unguarded moment…

Everyone is granted different talents and we are fulfilled when we meet them.

Trying to distract herself from the thoughts was no good.  She considered trying to form rebuttals but acknowledging the arguments she was creating as vaguely rational was scary in its own right.

If one was perfect for being a sex slave and not perfect at other activities, it would be logical for choose the only path where she is perfect.

After a while she did try to create rebuttals, but by then the arguments seemed to be overwhelming, impossible to ignore or deny.  She had only one recourse left.  That had been when she’d stripped naked for a thorough search.  The only escape could be if she didn’t have a perfect pussy then the whole basis of the argument was wrong.

But after her search she was left with resigned certainty.  She pulled up the text and dialed the number.  A man’s voice came up on the other line.  “Hello?”

“You were right, the only logical thing for me to be is a sex slave.”
“Very good girl.  Stay at your place and I’ll come and pick you up so you can start to obey.”

“Yes Sir.”  She let the phone fall to the ground and gave another slow sigh, starting to accept the truth.  At least she would be the best at what she did.