The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The next morning, I woke up with my morning erection and a powerful urge to pee.

While Debbie had managed to roll off me last night, June was still very much on top of me, and every once in a while, she was still humping my leg.

I groaned. I knew that I was responsible for my situation.

Carefully, I pushed June slightly until she rolled onto her side. I edged out of the bed between the two women, and went to take care of my morning routine. The cold winter air made my urge to pee more insistent.

Looking back as I left the bedroom, I saw the two women were a bit closer together, nearly touching. I noticed with some amusement that June was still dry humping a rolled-up bunch of comforter on the bed occasionally.

Once I got out of the bathroom, I looked for and finally found the thermostat and set it to a more reasonable temperature. I then went into the kitchen and found, much to my relief, a can of Coca Cola. On the way back into the bedroom, I put my hand on the radiator, and felt the start of warmth there. Back in the bedroom, I went to Debbie’s side of the bed. I figured that June was a pretty heavy sleeper, especially if she allowed me to crawl out from underneath her without her waking up at all. I knew Debbie’s predilection for deep sleep, so I took the cold can and touched Debbie’s exposed rib cage with it.

Startled, Debbie sprung up. “Hey!”

“Shh,” I said, putting my finger to my lips. “June’s still asleep. Drink this.”

“What? Coke?”

“Yeah. It should kill any sperm cells that might still be camping out in your mouth.”

“Huh?”

“Simple chemistry, or is it biology? I’m pretty sure that sperm cells cannot survive in saliva too long—too acid. However, in Coke, there’s even more acid that may kill any that might still be left. In addition, there’s more sugar in Coke than there is in the cells. I think that makes the sperm cells explode, or something like that. I remember somebody once told me that girls used to sometimes use Coca Cola as cheap spermicidal douches. Even if it’s just folklore, it will help clean out your mouth just by rinsing it out.”

Debbie made a face. “Couldn’t you have found Diet Coke?”

I shook my head. “No sugar in it, Radio.”

“Scope?” Debbie asked, hopefully.

“Come on, Debbie. I already have this open!”

Debbie giggled and took another swallow. The other thing I had hoped was that the caffeine in Coke would be enough to wake Debbie up. She was a notorious for wanting to sleep late. It was about a half hour before sunrise, and I knew that June wanted to jog in the park this morning.

“Swish it in your mouth, darling.”

Debbie did so.

After she swallowed her mouthful, she whispered, “I hope you don’t want me to gargle with it.”

I giggled, and had her take another large sip.

Finally, I pointed to June. “Attack!”

Debbie did so—with gusto.

I watched the two go at a good sixty-nine before leaving them to get us some breakfast.

I jogged with June in Central Park that morning. She had purchased a map of the park the previous day, and mapped out a track that must have been close to twenty kilometers, about twice as much as I had been doing when I was in Maui. I knew that June constantly ran, sometimes the 10-K course I mapped out with Mary, and a lot of time on the lava sand of the beaches near our compound.

I got winded early, and decided to take a breather at a place near a playground that had statues representing characters from the story “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland.” June continued to jog. I noticed, however, that while she did so, she was now jogging in a loop that made sure that I was never out of her sight for more than a few seconds.

I sighed, understanding her intentions, and studied the statues. There were a few other people around, but nobody was paying me any particular attention.

After a half hour, June jogged back toward me, and we decided to stroll back on a roundabout path back to the point where we entered the park.

“Jim?” June asked me as we were walking.

“Yes?”

“Why wouldn’t you allow Debbie to do me last night? I know you were watching us this morning.”

I stopped walking and decided to talk with her. I had anticipated this particular talk. “June, you are young and you are trusting. Up until now, sex has been playful for you, and that’s perfectly fine. However, you are now doing sexual things with me—a male. There are repercussions of such things. For instance, when you were sucking me, Debbie told you to share my semen with her, remember?”

“Yes...”

“Well, that was a mistake on her part. I had no way to know if you were on the pill. If she were to ‘do you,’ as you put it, then there would have been danger of my semen impregnating you.”

“Oh...” June said, not knowing what to say.

“You haven’t had sex with a boy,” I continued. “You’ve never lost any sleep about a missed period, June. Mary and Debbie and most heterosexual girls have had that experience.”

“I do know that feeling, Jim,” June said. “Believe me. I had plenty of girl friends and I knew that worry. So are you suggesting that I go on the pill?”

“It would just be safer if you did.”

“When I’m training or exercising regularly, I usually miss periods,” June commented.

“Huh?” This was a phenomenon that I wasn’t familiar with.

“When I really push myself, like when I’m practicing for a marathon, I skip periods like crazy. It’s normal, and it never bothered me before. You don’t see too many highly competitive woman athletes getting pregnant, at least when they are in training.”

I shrugged, but continued my train of thought. “There’s always a chance you might not be fertile, but it’s usually better to be safe than sorry. Remember the old adage about what they call women that use the rhythm method? Mothers.”

“I guess you’re right,” June said, smiling. “Do you suggest I find a gynecologist in the city?”

I smiled. There were probably quite a few. “Find one that you’d be comfortable with.”

“Oh, Daddy!” June said, exasperated. She gave me a playful punch on the shoulder. “I’ve had a gynecologist before!”

I laughed. “I’m sorry, June. You’re about Debbie’s age, but I think of you as being naive, at least with men. You’re not a teenager—not at all. Sometimes, I just think of you that way. Please forgive me.”

“OK,” June said, nodding. “Just remember that I’m not a kid.”

I leered at June’s delectable body in her shorts and body shirt and said to myself, “You’ve got that right, sister!” Out loud, however, I changed the subject, “How can you wear just that when it’s twenty degrees out?”

“Running actually makes me sweat, although just standing here does get me a bit cold.”

I could now see the points of June’s small breasts pushing against her shirt. June finally saw where my attention was and shook her head. “You men are all alike!”

“Is that so?” I asked.

June laughed. “No, Jim,” she said, giving me a kiss on my cheek. “You’re one in a trillion!”

We started walking again. “That many, huh?” A few seconds past, and I said, “You said that you’ve trained for a marathon?”

“Yes,” June answered. “I did Boston and New York City before I started working for Debbie.”

“How did you do?” I asked.

“I don’t have the endurance of a true marathon runner,” June admitted. “I can do well for about thirty kilometers, but marathons are usually forty or so. I’m really more of a sprinter. My coach thought that running marathons could help, but I still didn’t qualify for the Olympics.”

“The reason I was asking was that I think there are a couple of marathons in Hawaii,” I said. “I remember hearing about one in Maui last year, and I think there’s also one in Honolulu.”

I could see the gears turning in June’s head. “I’d imagine that it would be kind of hot for a marathon in Hawaii. Forty kilometers and change in Hawaii?”

“It still might be worth looking into.”

We made small talk on the way back to Debbie’s.

Back at the brownstone, I called Makena.

“Aloha kakahiaka nui! Malen/Montgomery family compound,” Aimee’s voice answered after a few rings. Aimee’s voice sounded sleepy.

From the three word salutation, I realized that I had forgotten about the time differential. I think she said, “Good early morning.”

“Ooh!” I said, immediately apologetic. “Sorry for the early call, Aimee. I wasn’t thinking time zones.”

“It’s all right, Master,” Aimee replied. “I had to get up to answer the phone anyway.”

I frowned. I was calling about the marathon thing, which wasn’t anything earth-shaking at the moment.

Aimee noticed the pause. “Please, Master. What’s up?”

I sighed. “Do you know anything about the Maui marathon?”

Aimee answered immediately. “It’s next month. Are you thinking of running, or are you asking for June?”

“June, actually,” I answered. “She thought the climate may be too hot for a long run. She’s not really an endurance runner.”

“The marathon starts in the morning. A little later than now, maybe four or five in the morning.”

I sighed again when Aimee reminded me about the time.

“That’s basically the reason why I called. How is everybody at the shack?”

“Dawn and Mary were sleeping when I left the Orchid Room just now. We all miss the three of you terribly.”

“I’ll let you get back to sleep, Aimee. We’ll call later at a more decent hour when we can talk to everybody.” I searched my memory, trying to come up with the proper phrase. ”Aloha kaua?“

Aimee giggled. “Your pronunciation needs work!”

I tried the one I had been saving for a special occasion. ”A‘ohe loa‘a i ka hana a ke aloha!“

“Kamaha‘o!” exclaimed Aimee, quite surprised. “Where did you learn that?” Aimee sounded very impressed.

I was happy that Aimee appreciated the effort I put in. “I asked the stewardess on the flight from Oahu for something that might impress you.”

“Do you know what it means?” Aimee asked.

“I asked her for something that was like ‘I will love you forever.’”

“It’s close,” Aimee said, softly giggling. “What you said was ‘love ignores distance’ and refers to being miles away. It’s a phrase that a flight attendant might learn. It’s a very good alternative.”

I shrugged. At least I tried. “It’s still appropriate, then?”

“It’s perfect, Master.”

“Mahalo!” I said, thanking Aimee. I wasn’t totally ignorant of conversational Hawaiian. It’s that I only knew stock phrases.

“‘A‘ole pilikia,” Aimee answered, saying “you’re welcome” in return. Aimee spoke the language nearly fluently.

As I said, I only picked up conversational fragments of the language in the year or so that I had been on the islands. The notable exception to that was the “love ignores distance” phrase that I had practiced.

“Aloha wau ia ‘oe, Precious!” I said, telling Aimee I loved her.

“I’ve told you many times, ‘precious’ is ’mea makamae.’”

“Aloha wau ia ‘oe, Mea makamae!” I repeated.

Aimee laughed heartily and answered, ”Mau loa aloha au ia‘ oe, E ku‘u haku!”

Aimee hung up the phone before I could ask her what her last phrase meant, but I had a pretty good idea what she said. There was one phrase that Aimee told me over and over in English, and I figured this was the same one in Hawaiian. The fact that “aloha” and “ia‘ oe” were both part of the phrase meant that I had a pretty good chance that I was correct, except that “aloha” had so many meanings in that lovely language.

I hung up the phone as Debbie entered the room. “Who were you talking to?”

“Aimee,” I said.

“What’s ’Mea makamae’ mean?” Debbie asked, having heard the tail end of the conversation.

“’Precious,’” I translated. “Aimee gave me that word. I call her ‘Precious’ all the time, and she finally gave me the translation.” I truly hoped that I’d remember that.

Debbie suddenly realized, “It’s just after three in the morning there!”

“Yeah,” I said, sighing. “Aimee reminded me. I didn’t think.”

“Aimee probably took it with good humor,” Debbie said.

“Actually, I gave her that phrase that I had practiced.”

“Did she like it?”

I nodded. “It means ‘love ignores distance.’ It wasn’t what I intended, but it’s still great. It shocked Aimee.”

“That’s definitely a first. I didn’t think anybody could shock Aimee.”

“Oh yeah?” I said, shaking my head. “Remember Falls Church?”

Debbie winced again. “Oh, yeah.”

June entered the room and I told her about the marathon information I got from Aimee.

“It’s three thirty in Hawaii, Jim!” June scolded me.

I sighed. “Love ignores distance,” I quoted.

“It seems to also ignore the time,” Debbie pointed out.

I laughed. “That was what I had been hoping for that phrase to mean, actually. ’A‘ohe loa‘a i ka hana a ke aloha,’ indeed.”

Debbie told us that she had called some old friends and got information on a cruise around Manhattan called the Circle Line Cruise. It was a three-hour cruise that would depart around noon, with all the tourist sites pointed out to us.

We did that cruise. We all learned about the typical sights that the tourists usually come to Manhattan to see, including the Statue of Liberty, World Trade Center, Chrysler Building (one of the most beautiful buildings I’d seen), as well as a strange skyscraper that had no windows at all.

That night was June’s first time solo with me. She was an obedient submissive, and we did a sixty-nine where she sucked me to a very pleasing orgasm, while my tongue and fingers brought her to a nice one as well.

As I was working toward her second orgasm, June made her usual request to me. “Master, may I come?”

I got a wicked idea when I wondered what would happen if I denied her request. “Um... no,” I said, continuing to thrust my fingers in an out of her cunt while licking mercilessly around her clit.

After another couple of minutes, June’s squirming increased. “Master... please... may I come?”

Once again, I denied June’s request.

June took my spent cock into her mouth and started sucking with vigor. I could feel her grunting as she attempted to hold back her release.

After another couple minutes where I could actually feel June’s torture, she repeated her request.

“OK,” I finally answered. “You may come.”

June came.

Actually, that was an understatement. June CAME. All capital letters. She hit the big one.

Even though her mouth was still sucking me, she nearly screamed her release. She continued to go off, sucking, sucking...

By this time, I was erect again. June was coming down from her tumultuous high, and took her mouth off my cock, breathing heavily.

“I thought... I thought... guys only do it once,” June said.

“Huh?” I didn’t understand June’s reference.

“You’re hard again,” June said.

“A lovely and wholesome beauty like yours has an effect on a guy. Plus, you moan like a porn star.”

“It’s like you might have another orgasm,” June said, still in awe.

“I can. It depends on the amount of stimulation I receive.”

“I thought... guys could only do it, maybe once a day, usually less.”

“You’ve been misinformed,” I said, smiling again at June’s naivete.

“May I suck you, Master? I’d like to taste your sperm again.”

How could I refuse such a request?

After our oral acrobatics that evening, I had June put on her panties again. I watched her dress and there was absolutely no shyness from her as she did so. I decided that she had a trace of exhibitionist in her.

June mounted my right leg as she did the previous night.

I was going to teach her a new position tonight.

“June, move your body further up mine,” I whispered.

“Like this?” June moved her body a few inches up.

“No, straddle my groin, but keep my cock behind you.”

June adjusted herself so that she was sitting on my lower belly.

“Now, lay down on top of me, and move back down until my cock is touching your ass.”

“Like this?” June asked.

“Yeah, that should be safe,” I reassured the lovely girl.

June scooched down until she got into the position I wanted.

“Now, get to sleep,” I ordered.

“Hmmm,” June said, moving her crotch up and down, and enjoying the feeling of my cock, which was now once again getting erect, rubbing against her slit.

I remembered that Aimee slept with me in this position recently, and nothing had ever erupted, so to speak. However, June was more of a grinder than Aimee.

Despite my reassurances to June, something could have happened. I prayed to whatever deity that Aimee prays to that this wouldn’t happen tonight.

June kept me erect all night. However, her movements weren’t constant, and I hoped that I would be able to avoid the one thing I didn’t want to happen.

At one point in the middle of the night, however, her motions were making me feel terribly amorous. I kissed June, thrusting my tongue into her mouth. Instinctively, she sucked my tongue in, and I cupped my hands on her ass, squeezing her as her ass moved up and down every two or three minutes.

My desire was increasing, and June continued kissing me. I was very sure that she wasn’t quite awake.

One of my weaknesses is kissing somebody while I was fucking her. It was almost as intense as a full emotional connection with my partner. I wasn’t actually fucking June, but the sensations were pretty close.

I realized that my actions were now putting June in danger.

I thought I saw June’s eyes flutter, and her hips started moving up and down more often.

I moved my lips away from June. “Are you awake?” I whispered.

“Yes,” June answered.

“If you keep that up, it’s going to go off.”

“Three times?” June seemed incredulous. Apparently, I was changing her whole world view of males. She moved her hips even faster.

“Yes,” I said, clenching my teeth.

“Let me know when you’re about to go off.”

“I’m about to go off!” I warned her.

June laughed. “I mean, within a few seconds.”

“I mean, within a few seconds!”

“Really?”

“Are you going to stay there?” I was holding myself back, and it was a nearly impossible situation for me.

“You’re about to go off?” June repeated, continuing her agonizing friction.

“Yes!”

“Do you want me to stop rubbing you?”

“Yes!”

“Do you really want me to stop rubbing you?”

This was sheer torture. “YES! YES! FUCK YES!”

June gave me a quick peck, and then rolled off me. She quickly took her hand and started pumping my cock.

I finally let go, and I released a torrent of sperm. I shot again, and again... it was like I could hardly stop shooting.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity while June continued pumping my still-erect cock, I had no more to give. That didn’t stop my cock from continuing to jerk spasmodically in June’s hands.

I was breathing heavily from the exertion.

“Are you all right?” June asked, innocently.

“Um... yeah...”

“Next time, you’ll think twice before telling me that I cannot orgasm!”

Huh? Was this June’s way of getting even with me?

“You fucking bitch!” I said, not feeling a smidgen of animosity.

June giggled. “Nope. I don’t fuck, remember?”

“The bed is a mess, you cock tease!”

June hesitated a few moments. “You’re not angry, are you?”

“No, June,” I said, slowly. “I’m sorry I called you names. I guess I deserved that.”

“I told you the other night, I like somebody whose bossy, but nice. Not allowing me an orgasm isn’t nice.”

“I’ll remember that. That was fucking intense, June.”

“Really? When you wouldn’t let me get off, it was intense for me, also!”

“Really. I never felt it that strongly before. It was like all my nerves were centered on your fingers moving up and down my shaft. It was almost torture.”

There was a pause. “I’m sorry.”

“No, June. It was... educational.”

“I’m teaching you something?” June giggled.

“I guess.”

“Well, you just behave yourself, Mister,” June said. “Or I’ll tell your other three companions your weakness.”

I shook my head. “It won’t work with them,” I said. “The reason I was holding it in was because I didn’t want to have an orgasm so close to your pussy.”

This struck June as funny. She laughed!

“What’s so funny?” I demanded.

June’s only response was more laughter.

It took nearly ten minutes before June finally settled down.

“What was that all about?” I asked.

“You! You...” June started laughing again.

I waited. I don’t like people laughing at me, but June was so cute that I couldn’t really get angry at her.

“I... I... Oh, shit!” June laughed a bit more.

I waited. Patience is my middle name.

Finally, June caught her breath. “When you explained the dangers of sex with you, I got to thinking. I talked with Debbie, and she and I agreed...” June started laughing again.

“Agreed to what?” I said.

“I have on a maxi-pad. Even if you came, you’d probably need a drill attachment to get through it!”

My jaw dropped. Here I was, trying to protect sweet, innocent June, and she had already been more prepared than I had thought!

The humor of the situation finally hit me. I started laughing, which triggered June again.

About five minutes later, Debbie came into the room. Apparently, our levity had aroused Debbie from her deep slumber. “What’s up, you guys?” she demanded, her voice dripping of sleep.

This set off a new round of laughter. Neither June nor I could talk.

“You guys are fucking idiots,” Debbie said, going back to her room.

We laughed until we both fell asleep in each other’s arms.

The next morning, June explained what happened to Debbie over breakfast with glee. Debbie had the fucking nerve to actually anticipate the punch line.

“And you were wearing a pad, right?” Debbie laughed.

June started laughing again. “Yeah. I mean...”

The two girls erupted in laughter at my expense.

“That’s Jim, our knight in shining armor,” Debbie said.

“Yeah,” June agreed. “He said it was intense.”

Debbie looked at June. “It’s next to impossible for a man to hold back an orgasm like that, you know,” Debbie said, seriously. “They don’t have the same muscles like we do, and their orgasms are designed to deliver their seed. Unlike a girl who can stop pissing at any moment, if a guy tried to do so, he’d make a mess as he failed. Guys just don’t have the right muscles to prevent stuff going through their penises. It’s amazing that Jim had so much self-control.”

“Really?” June asked, wide-eyed.

I shrugged. It had really been difficult. All the time, I had kept thinking about my shooting over June and impregnating her.

“It was like being in one of those flash storms,” June said, sighing.

“Huh?” Debbie asked.

“You know... when it rains with those big drops?” June said. “Jim kept shooting in the air. This morning, when I got up, I really expected to see his stuff on the ceiling!”

“Sir Cum-a-Lot,” Debbie said.

“Yeah!” June giggled. “Three times last night. Sir Cum-Cum-Cum!”

“We finally have pet names for him!” Debbie said.

I knew I was never going to live this down.

After breakfast, I decided to give Debbie the good rogering that I had promised her the day before. June asked permission to watch, and actually delayed her morning run to do so. Neither Debbie nor I have problems with an audience, but we decided that June should also be a part of it if she was going to hang around.

I told June to get Debbie warmed up—fingers only!—and she did so, happily. Watching June and Debbie got me worked up, and by the time June pronounced Debbie ready, I was at full attention.

I moved June’s hand onto my cock, and she started pumping me. I shook my head, and indicated that she was to insert me into Debbie.

“Really?” June breathed.

I simply nodded my head.

June guided me, with only one missed attempt, into Debbie’s warm, wet quim. I had my knees inside Debbie’s legs, spreading her wide, and giving June an excellent view.

Of course, this position prevented me from actually laying on top of Debbie, which also prevented me from kissing her, which, as I explained before, really got me off. However, this wasn’t entirely about me.

I kept moving June’s head closer and closer to the action, until I could feel her breath on my shaft. “Lick us,” I ordered June, softly.

Continuing to slowly pump in and out, I started to feel June’s tongue licking my shaft as I pumped into Debbie, and as I pulled out, June would redirect her tongue onto Debbie’s clit.

Debbie’s insides turned ever wetter with the extra stimulation that June was providing.

I moved June’s naked body so that she was now in a sixty-nine position with her crotch over Debbie’s mouth. I heard and felt June’s loud “porn star” moans as Debbie licked her.

I had hoped that I would last about a half hour or so, especially after the workout with June the previous night, but it wasn’t meant to be. I started spurting my fourth orgasm in about twelve hours into Debbie, and I pushed as far as I could into Debbie’s vagina.

From the workout the previous night, I didn’t have much sperm to deliver to Debbie. This was a quick fuck, just a couple of spurts, and I found myself exhausted.

Breathing heavily, I pulled out of Debbie, and felt June’s mouth suck my softening prick, most likely tasting the combined vintages of Debbie and myself. I felt June’s tongue moving back and forth as she sucked me, just as Debbie had taught her; June was a star pupil.

I rolled off of Debbie, and June and Debbie resumed their sixty-nine. It took about fifteen minutes for the two to reach a mutual orgasm (and I didn’t make the mistake of not giving June permission to come this time!).

By the time the two girls were finished, I had caught my breath.

The two girls whispered together, and then June and Debbie got off the bed.

“Going for a run?” I asked June. I was too weary to do any exercise that day.

“After I get my spanking,” June answered.

“Huh?”

June looked at Debbie, who nodded at her. “You both told me how much I tortured you last night. I didn’t know that I had hurt you, but that’s no defense. Somebody that hurts her Master, even unintentionally, should get spanked.”

“June,” I said, shaking my head. “I had one of the most intense...”

“Jim!” Debbie said, sternly.

“What?” I asked.

“June has a need. As somebody we both know would probably tell you, ‘Do your duty to June.’”

Debbie wanted me to spank June! Was she fucking nuts?

I then saw the look on June’s face. There were tears in her eyes—real tears! This wasn’t a game to her.

“I’m sorry, Master. Please punish me and tell me you forgive me.”

“I don’t need to...”

Debbie once again cut me off. “Jim! Shut the fuck up!”

I closed my mouth.

Debbie took charge. “June, bend over the bed,” she ordered.

June did as she was told. She bent over, and put her chin on her folded hands. She was actually sniffing.

“Jim, you will spank her...” Debbie looked at June. “Five times. And don’t hold back.”

I sent a message into Debbie’s mind. “I don’t need to spank June. I can’t hurt a defenseless girl.”

“She’s the least defenseless girl I’ve ever met,” was Debbie’s mental response. “This isn’t about your needs, it’s about hers. June needs this. Can’t you fucking see it?”

I sighed. I closed my eyes, and told myself that I was the lowest form of life on the planet. I held my hand out.

Debbie sent me one final message into my mind. Debbie was not very good at mind to mind communications, and I realized the effort she put in to do this. “If you hold back, she will know it, and you will have undone every good thing you’ve done for her.”

My last option having been taken away from me, I moved my hand down. There was a sickening SLAP! as I heard my palm make contact.

June did not cry out. She maybe sniffed a bit more, but made no other noise.

“That’s one,” Debbie said.

I looked at June’s butt. One cheek was starting to turn red. The sight sickened me. I tried to convince myself that it hurt me more than it hurt her. I’m not a convincing liar.

I moved my hand up and down quickly. SLAP!

“That’s two,” Debbie said, softly. “June, you keep count now.”

I decided to aim for June’s other cheek this time to keep any one area from getting all the slaps. SLAP!

“Three, Master!” June said. I could almost hear pain in her voice, but there was something else. There was strength in those two words as well.

SLAP! “Four, Master!”

I aimed my last slap a bit lower and more to the center than the others.

SLAP! “Five, Master!”

June jumped up from the bed and hugged me. “Master, do you forgive me, now?”

I was about to tell June that I was never angry at her, but at that moment, I saw a look in Debbie’s eyes that told me that I should be very, very careful with what I said right now.

“I forgive you, June,” I said, simply, quoting from a script that nobody had ever figured to give to me.

June responded by kissing my face all over. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, Master!”

June has a very cute way of kissing somebody when she was excited. She would kiss them all over their face over and over and over again, like a little puppy.

In retrospect, I think June’s “puppy kisses” won me over that day. I knew that there was no way in the world that June could be faking her happiness and excitement when she did that, and I no longer thought of myself as lower than pond scum for spanking her.

As I said, Aimee may act submissive, but June’s submissiveness seemed to define a part of her. You could say that June was the first real submissive that I had ever met. I was lucky that Debbie had been around to guide me through these shark infested waters.

In retrospect, I realize something else now.

When I first encountered Mary and Debbie together, they used to call me “Master” all the time. It had always bothered me because I had no idea what my “hold” over the two girls were at the time. On the other hand, I never really had any problem with Aimee calling me that. After Aimee was an established member of our family, the other two girls used the term very rarely, mostly to get my attention.

After June became established as an equal member of the family, neither Debbie nor Mary ever called me that again. It was as if doing so would be some sort of mockery of June’s true need.

Over dinner that night, Debbie made a very casual and (to me) surprising announcement. “By the way, I’ve been off my pills for six weeks now.”

“Huh?” I asked.

“I know you don’t shoot blanks,” Debbie said. “I hope I get as lucky as Mary did. She caught practically the first time!”

Debbie? Off her birth control pills?

Something was wrong with Debbie’s statement. “That can’t be. I’ve seen your pills in the bathroom, and I seriously doubt that they are your father’s.”

“Those are mine,” June said.

“When did you find a gynecologist?” I demanded. With the exception of the one hour run that June took in the late morning, we had all been together.

“Aimee took me to that family’s in Maui a couple of months before we left. She told me at the time that even if I never have sex with a man, the pills could be a good thing if something bad happened, like rape.”

“Rape? You?” I asked.

June looked daggers at me. “Rape is a reality for every woman, no matter what their sexual orientation is. I doubt that even I would be able to beat off a dozen determined men. When Aimee makes such a suggestion, it’s not something I’d take lightly.”

I immediately backed off. “I understand. My surprise was that you were on birth control. I just didn’t know that.”

June smiled. “I’ve been on them for a few weeks now. I think Aimee had an ulterior motive at the time; she may have been planning to get me fully into the family for a while.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked.

“You were so sweet, trying to keep me from getting pregnant. The doctor said it would take a month before I should do risky things, but I didn’t really think about it at the time, thinking that my lifestyle didn’t include much risk.”

I turned to Debbie. “Did you know about June’s pills?”

Debbie nodded.

June looked at me, concerned. “You aren’t angry, are you, Jim?”

I shook my head. “No, June. I’m not angry, but now I really see the joke was on me this morning.”

It was definitely a plot. The girls were all trying to make me look like an idiot.

After dinner that night, both girls wanted to relax at a bar. The Goddess Club in New York City was over by Times Square, but when Debbie called, she found that they were sold out for the evening and on Sunday as well. Instead, we found a bar that wasn’t too smoky and seemed quiet enough. Even so, it was crowded, being a Saturday evening. I drank a light beer, and nursed it. Debbie had some fruity cocktail that I didn’t recognize, and June had white wine.

Nature called, and I went to look for the men’s room. It was small, but at least there wasn’t a line, unlike the room for the women. I made a mental note to let the girls know about the line in the event that nature called to them later.

When I came back, it turned out that June and Debbie had a companion.

“I’m back,” I said to the two girls. Both girls looked at me, relieved.

“Whose thish?” the guy slurred.

Oh, fuck. A drunk.

“He’s our date,” Debbie answered.

“There’s two of you. He’ll have to share.”

“No, thanks,” Debbie said.

Debbie’s comments weren’t making the situation any easier. I saw that others were noticing what was happening where we were, but nobody offered any help.

“Excuse me,” I said.

“Shut up, you homo!” the guy shouted.

I sighed. Here I was, accompanying two women. I think that the evidence actually pointed to the contrary. I decided that to point this out to the drunk would be useless.

I hated dealing with drunks. I decided that the best course of action was a retreat. I signaled the two girls that it might be a good time to leave.

“Hey! Where youse going?” the guy demanded.

The drunk then made one move that he would regret. He raised a fist in my direction.

June was quicker than a politician changing his mind. She reached over and with a single twist, the guy flew upward and ended on the ground. June then knelt on the guy’s chest and put her fist on the guy’s throat. “You weren’t thinking of hitting my BOY FRIEND, were you?”

The entire bar went quiet.

June’s face made it certain to everybody that she was quite willing to push down on the guy’s windpipe.

A bouncer had already seen what was happening and finally reached us. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice this sooner,” he apologized.

“I’m sorry this had to happen,” I answered.

“Miss, you can get up off this bozo.”

June looked up and saw me nod.

“Sorry,” she mumbled.

“No problem,” the bouncer said.

The bouncer picked up the drunk by his collar and pulled him to his feet.

“I think you owe these people an apology,” the bouncer said.

The drunk was about to say something, but noticed that the bouncer was about two hundred pounds heavier than he was. He looked daggers at me, but when he saw the deadly look in June’s eye, some survival instinct must have clicked on in his alcohol-addled brain. “I’m... sorry...”

His apology sounded entirely insincere, like a second grade bully in front of his friends.

The bouncer decided it was good enough, though. “Get the fuck out of here, and don’t make the mistake of having me see you in here again!”

The drunk double-timed it to the exit.

June’s drink was on the floor where it flew out of her hand as she flipped the drunk.

“May I get you a new drink, miss?” the bouncer asked.

“No thanks,” June replied, much more calmly now. “I’ve seen what alcohol can do.”

“It’s usually only the assholes that happens to.”

“Usually, but not always. I think I’ve had enough.”

“That was an excellent move,” the bouncer said, impressed.

“I have an excellent teacher,” June answered. She turned to me and said, “Jim, can you take us home?”

“Of course, love,” I said.

Outside, June seemed to be on the prowl to make sure that the drunk wasn’t hanging around waiting for us to depart. Apparently, he wasn’t, which was fine with us.

Even though it wasn’t her turn, June slept with me that night. She was a sexual animal in bed, and couldn’t get enough of my tongue and fingers in her snatch.

She asked me for permission before each of her four orgasms. I didn’t make the mistake of denying her any of them.

After four days in New York, we decided it was time to go north. Our next stop was scheduled to be Massachusetts. Debbie called for a package delivery service to pick up the fashions that the two girls had bought on Fifth Avenue to be sent to the family compound on Maui.

We called Aimee to allow her to make our trip arrangements. What wasn’t said, but what was on my mind, was that Aimee was the one that tended to foresee events before they happened. I just wanted her to approve our itinerary.

We took a shuttle into Boston, and found that city to be very similar to New York. Debbie had property in a place called Beacon Hill, but it was already leased. She also had property on Martha’s Vineyard, but it wasn’t the right season for it. Instead, we stayed at a hotel called The Bostonian, which was near a historic landmark called Fanueil Hall.

There was a very crowded bunch of shops at this place, and the girls purchased even more clothes. Even I bought a few pairs of pants and some winter shirts, since I was traveling with only half the stuff that I had packed.

Of course, when I got back to the hotel, it turned out that my errant baggage had finally found me. Luckily, there was a place where I could purchase another piece of luggage to hold the extra stuff we had purchased.

In Boston, Debbie rented a car, and June drove us up I-93 to the New Hampshire border. At exit two, Debbie insisted on taking a detour along a side road, and we passed an amusement park that I recognized as the place in a dream that Debbie and I had shared on a couple of occasions. As we went past it, I saw the lake that I had seen in Debbie’s dreams.

Debbie told June and me stories about how her father used to take her there when she was a child and how much she loved the bumper cars. Debbie looked at me non-stop as she recounted those stories. I remembered those dreams that took place there, actually. The place was closed for the winter; apparently, it was only open during the summer.

We went north to Manchester, where we ate lunch, and then we took a main road that took us east to I-95, where we stopped at a beautiful Sheraton in Portsmouth, New Hampshire.

The hotel was near the historic district there, and we had dinner at a nice place that had seafood so good, I knew that I’d return there with Mary some day.

After dinner, our waiter recommended a night spot called 43 Degrees North, which is apparently the latitude of Portsmouth. This was a restaurant and wine bar, and actually had an excellent menu. The wine list was quite extensive, and we shared a semi-expensive bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon among the three of us. This time, we had good luck and no drunk attempted to interrupt our night on the town.

From Portsmouth, we headed north to Portland, Maine, where we contacted Aimee to get information on Debbie’s property on Maine’s seacoast. Aimee told us that the property that Debbie owned there was seasonal, and winter wasn’t the right season—most of the town would most likely be closed! I realized that there were benefits of living in Hawaii, where “seasonal property” didn’t imply seasons where a town might be closed.

We instead drove to the airport where we returned the rental car, and took a flight south to Washington, DC. We decided to stay at the same hotel in Falls Church that we had stayed when we were “on the run.” June listened in awe at the (only slightly edited) story we told her about our journey we took while she and Mely had stayed in Texas.

On a lark, we used our phony identification and credit cards and managed to get the same suite that we had stayed in over a year ago.

The next day, there was a package waiting for us. It contained a driver’s license with June’s picture on it, along with a credit card, social security card, and other information for a complete alias for June. Along with the package, was a simple note:

Dear Jim,

Congratulations on your lovely daughter. She has her father’s eyes, and her mother’s face. Please send my love to her mother and her “sisters.”

In this package, I’ve got some papers here for your other new addition.

Love to everybody,

William

P.S. Remember your promise.

I felt a pang of guilt at having broken that promise of not adding to my family. However, June had always been a part of our extended family; we just made her less “extended.”

Of course, that was just silly rationalization. I know that I did have a vote in June’s acquisition, and all my hesitation melted under Aimee’s pure logic. June had a special gift, and, somehow, Aimee was convinced that June had a fixation on me, which was confirmed by her actions in that bar in New York City.

I decided that I wasn’t sorry to have June an official member of our family. We were getting closer every day, and I found that I could now easily answer that question that Aimee asked me on the beach: Do I love June as much as I did Mary, Debbie, and Aimee? The answer was a resounding “Yes!”

From Washington, we went to Knoxville, TN, Jekyll Island, GA, and finally, Key West in Florida. In each of these places, Debbie had property, and, thanks to the milder southern weather, we had no problems staying at any of them except Key West, where Debbie’s property had a renter with a long term lease.

After our two weeks were over, we flew back to Makena. Debbie’s journey to rediscover her father had been successful, and the last week and a half had just been to a way to help heal Debbie’s itchy feet.

It was only after June let me fly most of the way during the inter-island flight to Maui that I realized that we hadn’t stopped at any of the Goddess locations, like I had promised Debbie.

Well, we had our lives in front of us!

The first thing that Debbie did when we got back was to take a car trip alone with June. The trip lasted two hours.

When they came back, Debbie had a happy announcement.

Debbie was going to be a mother!

Debbie was certain that she conceived her child when we were in the brownstone. I certainly hoped so, just because it would make Debbie so happy. I hadn’t known that she was in her fertile period, but it went a long way to explain her intense desire to take the trip right then and there.