Make Me a Sex Slave Ch. 01

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Rob uses his wish to make a sex slave.
12.2k words
4.58
36.7k
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Part 1 of the 2 part series

Updated 11/15/2024
Created 11/03/2024
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--

Note To The Reader:

This story will include the changing of sex.

--

Six Years Ago

--

I married the love of my life. Sarah had this way of turning the ordinary into magic, and I never realized how much joy could live in the little things. We've danced barefoot in the kitchen to old jazz tunes, made late-night grocery runs just because we wanted ice cream, and drove around with no destination in mind, just enjoying the freedom of being together.

She was more than a best friend and a blissful adventure all at once. I caught myself looking at her sometimes, trying to figure out how I got so lucky, only to see her looking back and me, with those same eyes. Adoring me, just as I adored her. I couldn't believe how someone as kind and beautiful as Sarah fell in love with someone like me. I didn't think I would ever get used to the way she smiles when I called her my wife, or how she instinctively reached for my hand whenever we walked side by side. Even a simple restaurant became a five star feast with her company.

Our love making was passionate and deep. I called it love making and not fucking, because with Sarah it was a form of deep love. We passionately stared into each others eyes and held each other long after the deep excitement of a good fuck was done.

That's how it started. But what starts well doesn't always end well.

--

Two years Ago

--

I sat alone in my man cave playing the newest counter-strike. I'd been grinding the new first person shooter hard for the last few months. It consumed most of my non-working time.

When I dove into multiplayer games, I was immediately swept up in the adrenaline rush of fast-paced action, where every decision can mean the difference between victory and defeat. The thrill of honing my skills and mastering new tactics kept me coming back for more, like an addictive craving for that satisfying moment of a perfectly executed headshot. I stayed up late, skipping sleep and even sex to chase my addiction.

Each match feels like a unique challenge, drawing me into an immersive world where I could escape reality and engage in epic battles.

"Get the fuck out if you don't know how to play," I shouted into my headset. The people on my team were such idiots and had no idea how to win at this game. As another player on my team was killed I knew we were losing. If I lost to the rage inside of me, I would need to play another game. I gotta end on a win.

There was a knock on the door. Loud. I heard the door open.

Fuck. It was my wife, Sarah. She was going to interrupt my gaming session. I needed to find a way to tell her to fuck off that wouldn't piss her off.

Sarah was tall, about five foot ten, with long brown hair and a shapely body. She had great boobs and a face I'd always found beautiful. Though I had dropped working out, she maintained her body in great physical condition. She ran, she swam and socially, she was the life of the party.

My friends asked how a simple guy like me could be with such a great girl. I knew though. We used to click. But that was years ago, and now I had a new love.

She was now in the way a bit. Don't get me wrong, I still loved her and wanted to be with her, but I wanted other things too. It was like she didn't know how to give me any space. Always so fucking needy. We used to fuck so passionately, she could be a demon in bed, and it made me horny thinking about it, but recently she'd been cold. Like something was bothering her that I couldn't put my finger on.

"Hey Rob," she said in her lovely sing-song voice, "come on. We should go out for sushi."

I didn't want to go for fuckin' sushi. Why couldn't she cook a meal or something. "I can't now hon', I'm in the middle of a game," I shouted carelessly, without even looking over my shoulder. "Why don't you cook up some of that chicken and bring me some here. I can just eat and play."

Then she got pissy. Oh here we go. She walked over to my console and shut the game off.

"Babe, I was in the middle of that!" I shouted. "Why don't you fucking give me some space. I don't want any sushi! I've had a fucking hard enough day at work and I don't need to get into another fucking pissing match here. Stupid bitch!"

I'd never called her a bitch before and I just knew that now she was going to blow up at me. It was going to be a whole fucking thing that would ruin the whole evening, just like the other times this happened.

She didn't though. She just nodded her head, turned around silently and walked out.

As she left, I thought I'd heard her say, in a sort of disappointed mumble, "So this is how a wish is granted." What the hell did that mean?

--

One Year Ago

--

The divorce with Sarah had been a bitter ride for me. There were the court hearings. Lawyer's bills ate up any equity I had in the house, so yeah, that was gone. Fortunately for me, I make decent money. Unfortunately that ended up making me a bitch to alimony. What am I? A fucking slave that has to work for someone that I'm not even married to? Fuck the courts.

On that last day in court though, Sarah, unlike me, looked like she had regained the vibrant liveliness she'd had when we'd first met. She practically bounced out of our last court hearing and just as she was bouncing out of my life.

I hadn't seen her in a year. And though I was vaguely cognisant that I'd brought this on myself in some way, I just couldn't get over it. How did it come to this? I missed her every day. Every day.

Things weren't going too well for me, I'd put on weight, and in general, I hadn't been taking care of myself. I knew I'd get my life back together eventually... eventually. The stress was causing me to lose some hair and I was slowly balding. I looked like shit.

I'd tried dating apps, and though I met some great girls, most of them seemed to only want a free dinner. Nothing really stuck and it didn't help that I would compare them to Sarah in my mind.

I couldn't recognize that me being a downer might have been a big turn off to these women. No one really made me open up the way Sarah had. I mean the Sarah when we first dated, not the bitchy Sarah that just argued with me later in the marriage.

So yeah. That was me: fat, messy, balding and alone.

Since Sarah made all the meals, now, I'd started living on a combination of fast food and junk food. It was great at first but now each french fry made me feel like crap. Living alone in an apartment and grinding lots of games didn't help either.

What I wasn't prepared for most of all was the loneliness. Just me in a shitty apartment, eating shitty food all alone.

Fortunately tonight would be a little different. I was meeting my friend and co-worker, Gerald. He was a stand up guy, and we'd become close. When I was a mess during the divorce, he'd been a shoulder to cry on, to the extent that two straight men have that sort of relationship.

One thing we'd had in common was that we'd both been through a divorce. Whereas I had gotten divorced for ignoring my wife, he had been in a completely wonderful relationship, that is until his wife had an affair.

She'd begged for forgiveness, and he'd given it a thought, stand up guy that he is. But the trust he'd had was now long gone. So Gerald decided on the divorce. He said he just needed to move on for his own peace of mind.

"Hey buddy," he said, waving to me.

The dimly lit bar had a warm, inviting atmosphere, with soft jazz playing in the background and a few patrons scattered around polished wood tables. Shadows dance on the walls, and the rich scent of aged whiskey mingled with the faint aroma of deep fried bar food. As we settled into a cozy booth, the low murmur of conversation created a comfortable bubble, allowing us to really talk without interruption.

Conversation came easy between the two of us. We'd bitched a little about our women troubles in the past, but I was a year out from my divorce, and it was two years for him. So our conversation focused on sports, work and jokes.

"I finally figured out why we get along so well at work," he said.

"Oh really? Why's that?"

"Because we both know how to expertly avoid doing actual work!"

We both laughed. It wasn't true though, he was a worker and crazy effective. Everyone in the office loved him and how warm and thoughtful he was. I wish I had that rapport with my coworkers. Women were stand-offish and men were professionally polite. Gerald was the only one I really bonded with.

As the minutes became hours we were getting ready to leave, when his eyes suddenly went wide and he stopped. He just got that deer in the headlights look as though his brain was trying to process something unexpected.

"What?" I said, seeing that he was nervous.

He silently pointed to the doorway. I turned, realizing I would recognize that body and face anywhere. It was Sarah. It was fucking Sarah! I hadn't seen her in a year. Yep exactly a full year to the day since she walked out of the courtroom, since she walked out of my life. I thought I would never see her again as she had made that fairly clear by ghosting me.

She sauntered in with the kind of presence that turns heads without meaning to, her long brown hair falling in loose waves down her back, catching the bar's low light like strands of silk. She was dressed simply but elegantly in a dark knee length blue pleated skirt with a soft sweater. She carried an air of quiet confidence that pulled the air from my throat. Time had not dimmed her beauty. If anything she was more alluring than ever.

When her gaze drifted across the room and briefly met mine, our eyes locked and pulled memories of old conversations and moments lost. She offered a faint, knowing smile, a silent acknowledgment, before walking directly towards me. It was as if nothing had changed--and yet, somehow, everything had.

Her hips swayed, as she approached my table, seducing me with her movement. Pulling my eyes toward her lovely hips. Round, and oh so fit. How had she become even more beautiful? I pondered the question, but there was no answer.

Gerald and I were frozen with our mouths agape. He broke the spell first, turning towards me.

"Want me to stay and be your backup buddy," he offered. He knew that seeing Sarah after so long would bring out emotions in me that might break me.

"No," I said. "I think I need to do this alone," I said as she came within a few feet of us.

"Hello Sarah," said Gerald as he grabbed his coat to go.

"Hello Gerald," she smiled, radiating warmth.

"You sure?" he asked, turning to me with worry in his eyes.

"Yeah, I got this," I said. He sighed, turned and walked out.

"Buy a girl a drink?" she asked, sitting at our booth without permission.

I was about to ask why the alimony wasn't enough for her to buy her own drink. But I was so captivated by her. I wanted her back. Now was not the time for snark.

"It would be my pleasure," I said. She sat at the table next to me. I motioned for the waiter to order her a drink.

"Still drinking sweet white wine?" I asked.

"Oh, not tonight. Whisky, straight up." That surprised me a little as she had never had hard liquor during our time together.

The waiter nodded and got her drink.

I had so much I wanted to say, so many things to ask, but the most pressing question that I needed to know was what she was up to? "I don't think it's a coincidence that you are here. Am I right?"

"No, it's not a coincidence. I came here specifically to see you. I know I shouldn't have blocked your calls like I did. If anything, during this last year I've thought often about talking to you almost every day. If I told you, you wouldn't believe how bad I've wanted to talk with you. Just to hear your voice... It's just that things have changed for me. Look, when I left you it wasn't really what I expected would happen. It wasn't really what I thought it would..."

"Sarah, I've missed you so much too. Something's happened hasn't it? Something you're not telling me. Please just tell me." I prodded.

She didn't answer right away. She gently placed her hand on mine. She was deep in thought and I waited until she started.

"If you could have a wish; If you could really have what you want. Would you make that wish?"

"What?" I said. This conversation was not at all what I expected.

"No," she paused, "Just answer. Would you feel terrible if you could have something that maybe you shouldn't, but you really want it. Would you be willing to do a 180 in life, to go after your true desire?"

What the fuck was she on about? I just sat there with a combination of being horny for my ex and being confused by my ex. She wasn't normally like this.

She waited for me to respond, and drank her whisky in two gulps, letting out a satisfied sigh.

"I needed that," she said. "So hypothetically. If you could make a wish, a wish that would drastically and irrevocably change your life, would you?"

It didn't take me long. "Yes. I wish I could be with you again. It would be different. I would never ignore you again. I would never let you leave me again." I put my other hand atop hers. Looking deeply into her beautiful brown eyes.

I wasn't sure if I still loved her. Her leaving me suddenly had made me question that. But I was really sure I wanted to fuck her. Just talking to her made me think of sex. Sure I also wanted her to cook and clean for me again. I wanted to go back to the way things were. Maybe that was what love was. Wanting someone. Wanting to be with someone beautiful and sexy. Someone like her. Why shouldn't we go back to how it was? Perhaps I could convince her. Perhaps she was giving me a chance to do that.

"So you would make your wish? And it would be to be with me?" she whispered.

"Yeah."

She did something I didn't expect, reaching into her purse and pulling out a strange box. It was small and entirely black. She placed it into my hands and there was a cold metallic feel to it, almost as though it was sucking the heat out of me and pulling on the air around me.

"Take this home with you. You can have a life changing wish. Maybe we'll be together again." She started to walk out, then she turned. "Remember this will give you what you want, but you might not understand what you want."

"Wait," I said pleadingly, reaching out to her as she moved to leave. "Stay with me." I had hoped that maybe she would change her mind, maybe she would want to be with me again.

Instead, she shook her head sadly and left me alone in the bar. I wanted to chase after her but instead I sat there dumbfounded with this strange and mysterious box.

I paid the tab and went back to my apartment. My lonely shithole apartment. There were dirty dishes in the sink and the place needed a vacuum as well as a wash down something fierce. The cleaning could wait until tomorrow, like it always did. Same with this weird box that Sarah had given me. What the fuck was all this?

She disappears for a year, asks me these weird fucking cryptic questions, and then gives me an even weirder what-the-fuck box. I couldn't even process all this tonight. So I flopped onto my bed and within a minute I was fast asleep.

The next morning I slept in. It was Saturday, and as a single man living all alone, I could do whatever the fuck I wanted. That was one thing I didn't miss about being married. I liked not having someone wake me up in the morning, though I did miss the breakfasts that Sarah made. Apple pancakes were my favorite. What I wouldn't give for some of those right now.

I gathered some of the trash and threw it away, until my eyes settled on the box that Sarah gave me. Oh yeah, I gotta check out that weird thing. Maybe I would jerk off thinking about Sarah afterwards. But the strange box thing was so fascinating, the wank could wait.

I picked it up delicately in my hands and examined it. The surfaces weren't flat, but rather full of all sorts of markings, grooves and edges. Like some sort of ancient language. Though it was mostly rectangular it wasn't sharp but seemed to almost pull on my hands, as if wanting to fit in them. It was almost alien. It made me wonder if Sarah was pranking me with this strange thing.

Maybe I would try rubbing it three times like it was a magical lamp with a genie in it. I'd been rubbing my dick a lot recently now that I was single, why not try rubbing this magic box. That didn't seem right but I gave it a try anyhow, with no success.

"Open," I said to the box. Again nothing. "Magic box activate!" I tried. Nope.

Might as well try a bunch of shit. "Up up and away! Go magic box!" Nothing.

I finally just sat the box down almost ready to give up, but instead I decided I would try talking to it.

"Look. Mr. Box. It's me Rob. I was just wondering. If you really can grant me a wish. If you really can give me what I want. I really need it. I could really use a life turn around. Things aren't going well for me and I just don't know what to do. I don't know why Sarah didn't give me another chance. I don't know why I can't find a girlfriend. So I'm just asking you nicely Mr. Box -- Can you give a down-on-his-luck guy a second chance?" It felt like therapy time.

Then some sci-fi shit started to happen. The box began to slowly open, forming cracks. And the beams of light shot out of the cracks as they opened.

I dropped the box on the floor and scurried backwards falling straight onto my ass. I continued propelling myself backwards on my ass as though the box was a rat. But the box continued to transform. I shielded my eyes as the brightness engulfed my small apartment.

When it dimmed, I opened my eyes back up and there was a beautiful woman in my apartment standing where the box had been. My jaw dropped.

She wore a dark purple dress that tugged on her curves. Her fair white skin contrasted with her purple lipstick and pitch black hair.

Her figure was graceful and balanced, with soft curves that flowed naturally from her slim waist to the gentle swell of her hips. Long legs give her an elegant, fluid stride, while breasts pushed against the tightness of her dress. She slowly stretched, and every movement revealed a quiet delicate femininity.

"Hello Rob," she said, her voice deep and sultry.

"Who the fuck are you?" I said. A moment ago I was alone, and now this person had appeared in my apartment. Holy fuck!

"I'm who you want me to be," she replied. "I'm here to give you what you want." She bent down to my level, her breasts hanging and giving me a good look at her cleavage.

"What the fuck are you? Are you real? Are you even human?" I wondered if I was tripping.

"Let me answer those questions in order. I'm a construct. I am real, and I'm not human."

"A construct? Is that like a genie?"

"I suppose I'm like a genie. I grant a wish, but I'm not magical. I'm not all powerful. I'm a.... construct."

"Ok," I stuttered. "But what the fuck is a construct?"

"I'm a piece of technology. I can grant a wish. There's a lot more I can't tell you about who I am or where I came from. I know you're wondering about those things, but I really can't tell you much more." She reached with her hand and pulled my chin up. I had been looking at her ample breasts but she pulled my face up to look her in the eyes.

"So do you want a wish or not Rob. I can give you what you want." Her voice was husky and so sexy.

She was getting right to business and she was simultaneously turning me on. Maybe I should wish that she would become my girlfriend. No better yet, maybe I should wish that she would become my sex slave.

Man I wish I'd decided to jerk off first. Having a magic sexy woman telling you she'd give you whatever you want when you were horny seemed like a bad thing for some reason, though I wasn't really thinking of that at that moment.

"Hell ya I want a wish." I said. "Sarah told me you'd give me a wish. But I need to know, what are the rules? Since I can't figure out what the fuck you are, can you at least tell me rules? Are you a robot?"