The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Cue the most awkward evening in however long the sun has been setting on this wet little ball we call Earth. For a few moments, all three of us stand there, staring at each other in turn, knowing that we’ve just lit a fuse on a massive sexual bomb, and then immediately realized that none of us had the slightest clue as to when—or how—it would go off.

“I’m going to check out the bathroom and take a quick shower,” I say, suddenly woefully aware of my lack of threesome ‘Dom, and Dommer’ expertise. “You two set up Karen’s sleeping arrangements, I’ll be out in a bit.”

I would normally be inclined to invite Jen to join me, but—well, this place has running water, but the taps only come in “cold” and “bitter, frigid disappointment”. With no water heater, showers are much less comfortable, and the idea of fucking in freezing cold water seems... let’s say logistically complicated.

The bottle of dragon fruit lavender scented colour-care shampoo stashed away on a wire shelf in the shower smells exactly like it ought, and the watermelon-and-sage body wash has a little more dried residue than you’d expect on the cap but it lathers fine and smells fan-goddamn-tastic. Which makes me wonder, as I violate the Geneva conventions on myself by hosing fruity soap off my genitals with torturously cold water, how much of that shit is just harsh chemicals with no half-life, compared to the rotting-driftwood-looking little bars sitting in the soap dishes.

Not that I’m complaining. If it weren’t for chemical preservatives, my incompetent city-loving ass would have starved to death years ago, and I’m eternally grateful to smell like something other than sweat, river water, and whatever the hell the Methodist sentinels used in their soap (courtesy of the basement-fungus, after I told it I can’t charm people into the basement if I smell like a Taco Bell rest stop bathroom.)

The soap and shampoo are nice, but under the sink, I strike gold.

Toothbrushes.

Dozens of them.

A set of electric toothbrushes sit on the counter, covered in lightly dusted cobwebs, thirsting for electricity that will probably never run to this house again. But it looks like the whole family kept up with their checkups without once turning down the free toothbrush.

So a shopping bag with a faded logo sits filled to the brim with what most wouldn’t have pegged as a finite resource in our post-apocalyptic world.

The toothpaste is far more dry and chalky than it’s supposed to be, and it has a funny taste to it—like an extra hint of baking soda dusted in some deteriorating shell that once was mint flavoring—but I figure why the hell not. I’m not swallowing it, and I enjoy that beautiful feeling of a mouth full of cleansing foam (and not that weird Methodist soap that for some reason tasted like rotting cereal).

I emerge from the bathroom with a dark green towel around my waist, kicking a ball of clothing out of the en-suite and into the corner of the room. At the foot of the bed, Karen and Jen have made a little nest out of the mountain of throw-pillows, and draped the top bed sheet over to make it look... well, like a giant doggy-bed.

“Hey, Karen,” I say to both the women, “do you want to watch me bring Jen to true, profound, spiritual ecstasy?”

Karen looks a little lost, opening her mouth in the beginning of a stutter, but Jen knows my sense of humour a little more and crosses her arms, staring me down with a n expectant little smile.

“They have shampoo. Body wash. And...” I lean in very close, whispering in Jen’s ear, “...toothpaste.”

Jen slowly pulls away, twitching her neck a little, then her knees, and a moment later she’s delivering the most adorable fake orgasm I’ve ever seen—her mouth is wide open, letting out a high-pitched little whine as her shoulders, neck, and knees spasm dramatically.

I burst into laughter, and Karen smiles nervously.

“The quickest way to a woman’s heart is through good oral hygiene,” I tell Karen, as though delivering an important public service announcement. In my imagination, a shooting star flies over my head. The more you know!

“I don’t suppose you want to come in and help me with my oral hygiene, huh? Maybe get at some of those hard to reach places?” she asks. Jen then leans in ad whispers, “Maybe give me some special mouthwash?“

“Mmm... tempting... but if I have to run that shower over my bits again, the dispenser is going to freeze off.”

“Well, we can’t have that,” she says as she bounces towards the bathroom. “That dispenser is why we keep you around!”

With that, the bathroom door slams shut and I’m left with Karen standing above her little doggy bed, staring awkwardly to the side.

“Karen, can I talk to you a second?” I ask.

“O—of course,” the tall brunette says, standing awkwardly across her makeshift pet bed.

I walk around to the foot of the bed and sit on the end, my feet resting on her little sleeping arrangement. “Sit, please.”

Karen nods and walks to the middle of the bed, then sinks down to her knees, resting her ass on her heels and placing her hands patiently on her knees. Her dark eyes lock with mine for a moment, before looking down in submissive respect.

“Please, look me in the eyes,” I tell her. The order comes from my mouth, not my mind, but she obeys just as readily.

“Yes, mist... sir...mast...err...” Karen stumbles.

“Just call me whatever feels most natural. Mister, Hey-You, Asshole...”

Karen nods her head. “Yes, master.”

Hm. Would have put my money on sir there. “Have you been told what we’re here to do?”

Karen pauses, my question seeming too simple to be taken at face-value. “We’re here for supplies.”

I shake my head. “Technically yes, but not exactly what I meant. Do you know what Jen and I are trying to accomplish? Big-picture?”

“I heard Gwen telling Bell that you were going to rebuild. Make a world without monsters.”

I shrug. “A world with people is never going to be without monsters. You of all people should know that.”

Her soul recoils a little at the unintentional barb. I meant because she’d worked with the clergy and sentinels, but I suppose technically the old Karen would qualify as well.

I continue, “We’re going to try to make a world without religion, or any of the hate, repression, discrimination, and misery that came with it. Again, you of all people understand why that’s important.”

She nods, the bit of her essence that had deflated starting to patch itself with a sense of purpose. “I will help you any way I can,” she says.

I sigh. “That’s the thing. The literal monsters are gone, but a lot of the human monsters are still around. Nuns. Priests. Sentinels.

Watchers. Probably hiding in pockets all around the city, trying to capture any stray sheep they find so they can keep things the old way.”

Karen nods again. “Gwen mentioned the lady by the river. The one who you yelled at to death.”

This elicits a chuckle from me. “To be fair, Jen says the embolism is because I made her angry, not because I yelled at her.”

Karen’s eyes snap downwards. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you did yell her to death.”

“Are you saying I’m loud?”

Those dark green eyes once again return to mine. “No! No, you’re just... you can be so intense. And so right. It’s... a bit scary at first.“

I give Karen my most disarming smile. So out of 4 followers, one of them thinks I can melt people with my mind, and another thinks I can yell someone to death with intense truth. That’s not exactly how I wanted to rebuild. I mean, they’re both technically correct, but it still takes some of the wind out of my sails—and likely saps some warmth from my words. “I’m sorry,” I tell her, “I just thought it was necessary.”

Karen’s lips curl into a little smile. “Don’t be sorry. You were right. I needed to really understand what I’d become. And even though I’ve dedicated myself to Mistress Jen, I’m forever in your debt for that.”

I nod slowly. “Right. Anyhow, my original point was that we’re definitely going to be running into some of those monstrous people.”

“I understand.”

“And they’re going to see you.”

Karen’s blush returns, but she nods again. “I understand.”

“Hell, probably even a few watchers and sentinels who knew you from your church.”

Karen’s smile widens. “Good.”

“Good?”

Her deep green eyes close and she takes in a deep breath, smiling wider as holds the air in her lungs for what looks like a moment of spiritual enlightenment. Her mind is surprisingly clear—a serene lake with flat glassy water, undisturbed by its governing a sense of purpose that floats just above the surface. “Most of them were just like me. Repressed. Lost. Sad. Desperately trying not to acknowledge what we all knew we were.” Her eyes flutter open. “I will proudly show them that there’s another way.”

“They’ll probably hate you for it,” I warn.

“Sad for them, but I don’t mind.”

“They’ll probably want to steal you back and make you rejoin. To turn you back into what you were.”

Karen shakes her head, her smile setting into one of confidence. “That won’t happen. There’s no monster to bring back. You helped me see what I’d become—what I’d really become. I can’t un-ring that bell.“

It’s true. I’d watched the dam break myself, but it’s actually a little impressive that Karen herself is aware. A little more digging reveals to me that for most of the time she’s spent silently walking along behind us, sore bare feet on warm concrete, she had been in a perpetual state of self-reflection, coming to terms with the truths—and the conclusions—that I’d forced into her head.

“Good to know,” I say, as though to nobody in particular.

In the next room, we hear the shower shut off, followed by muffled curses as Jen towels off the freezing cold water.

“Another major part of what we’ve got to do is the actual rebuilding,” I say to Karen. “Do you have any way you can help with that?”

Karen nods slightly. “I’ll do whatever Mistress Jen asks of me.”

I sigh. “Yeah, that’s swell, and helpful in its own way, but—what did you do before everything fell to shit?”

“I was working part-time answering phones at Wade Garcia’s auto shop, and going to school...”

Answering phones isn’t going to be particularly helpful—but university sounds promising, and the possibilities begin to rush through my mind. She seems like a bookish type, but something about her seems borderline country-gal, so maybe she was learning botany or veterinary medicine. Or even better, nursing or pharmacology. Hell, she was working in an auto shop, so it could be auto shop, or engineering, or...

“...for art history...”

No. No no no no...

“...with a focus on Modern Surrealism.”

Fuck. Everything.

“That’s fine,” I lie as my hopes deflate into a puddle of melted clocks. “We’ll find something you’ve got a knack for and put you to work somehow.”

Karen nods. “Thank you, Master.”

“Yeah, don’t mention it.” From the bathroom, I can hear the sound of a toothbrush push past the standard eight happy-birthdays of brush time. She must be almost done, and I have one more topic I wanted to broach—it’s now or never. I lean towards Karen and say, “I saw what you did back there, by the way.”

Her eyes drift to the side as she tries to remember.

“When your mistress pet your head and praised you.” My voice drops to a minty whisper. “You came, didn’t you?”

Jen’s gaze drifts to the ground, her expression melting into one of childlike guilt—like a puppy caught chewing on a shoe—and she nods slowly.

“Without your mistress’ permission?”

Those dark green eyes widen as she realizes what I mean. She remembers (both on her own and because I make her) the part of her pledge about not deserving pleasure unless Jen grants it to her.

“It’s no big deal,” I say, still desperate to play the good guy (and maybe help her shake the mental image of me Fus Ro Dah-ing a nun to death) without completely spoiling the naked servant. “We’re all still just learning the ropes of this whole dynamic. But next time... ask for permission first. I’ll bet they’re going to feel a whole lot more intense when you’re given permission.”

Karen’s eyes zone out a little and her breathing becomes shallow, her marvelous nipples stiffening as her mind races with countless filthy thoughts.

“Karen?”

The woman snaps out of her reverie, her eyes filled with lust and need.

“They’re going to feel a whole lot more intense when you’re given permission.” This time my words plunge deep into her mind, the pool of her lust drawing them in and consuming them, milking out all their meaning and promise before swallowing their essence down to the deepest depths of her soul.

“It... it’ll be hard...” Karen stammers.

I reach down to caress her face, which she presses into my palm like a kitten. I poke into her sense organs to make the feel of my skin send tingles to her brain and then throughout her entire body.

Karen lets loose a pathetic-sounding whimper, and I withdraw my hand.

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” I say as I stand up and walk back to the side of the bed, trying to figure out if I should try to strike an actual sexy pose or embrace full-ridiculous for when Jen walks out.

I can’t help but get a little kick out of eavesdropping on Karen’s mind, grappling with a sudden massive flood of lust, noticing how acutely she feels the still air of the room against her small breasts as she struggles to resist the urge to touch herself.

I hear the en suite bathroom doorknob twist, and my full attention snaps to splaying myself out on the bed. It turns out, when you’re wearing nothing but a towel that’s basically guaranteed not to stay in place however you pose, it’s impossible to not be all-joke or all-sexy—when Jen opens the door and sees me doing the full Burt Reynolds, towel collapsing around me, her head lets out a snort of laughter while her body is washed over by a wave of arousal.

“Karen,” she says once she regains her composure, her eyes not once leaving my body. “Shower. Toothbrush. Now.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Karen says, popping to her feet and scurrying to the bathroom.

The giant fluffy royal blue towel that Jen emerges in is big enough to fit her like a big bulky dress, and accentuates her curves about as well as being wrapped up in a rug. Still, the hunger in her eyes as she stares at me more than makes up for it.

“Before I jump your bones, I need to make something clear.” Her tone is procedural, as though reading through a disclaimer before she joins me. “We can’t fuck.” Her eyes drag once over my body and she adds, “As much as I’d like to.”

I nod. “Yeah, you’re probably right—it’s going a bit fast, and we don’t want to get carried away.”

Jen’s brows scrunch as though I’d just suggested we jump into a volcano or something. “What? No. Fuck no. Who gives a shit about being too carried away? We had our genitals hermetically sealed for fucking years. I want to feel your big throbbing cock against my bare skin twenty-four-seven.” She walks to the edge of the bed and takes a seat, and I break my pose to join her.

“Okay, so this isn’t you pumping the brakes.”

Jen gives me a sly little smile. “Brakes are the last thing in the world I want pumped here. But... I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but birth control has an expiry date.”

“Ah.” The dumb-teenager-me from before the fall wants to suggest pulling out, but the very thought seems kind of... well, fucking stupid.

“So you don’t want babies.”

Jen shakes her head. “That’s the thing. I do. And I know the clock is ticking. But I don’t want to raise babies in a hellscape.”

I sigh. “I’ve been thinking of rebuilding in terms of survivors, but I guess the baby thing is kind of the ultimate point of rebuilding.”

Jen reaches over and takes my hand, her cold and clammy skin wrapping around me as she laces her fingers with mine. “A better world for everyone,” she says, leaning in and giving me a gentle little peck on the cheek, then adding, “and as soon as we have a society, I want to spend every waking moment with your cum either being fucked into or dripping out of my body.”

I let out a groan as her words brush my earlobe. Jen leans over and wraps her cold hand around my now-throbbing girth, biting her lip and nodding as she shifts her shoulders to unfasten the towel, letting it fall away from her.

From this angle, I can see the fading evening sun cast a dull orange light across Jen’s naked body. She immediately notices my interest and leans back, releasing my hand and member and leaning back on the bed.

“My body’s your playground, Mr. Master. Have at it.“

I gently run a hand up Jen’s side, sliding from her hip to her ribs, my fingertips barely touching her as they trace the grid of newly-developing scar tissue from the her torture device’s wounds. “That’s very generous, Miss Mistress. Just tell me if anything hurts.“

She smiles, jamming a pillow under her head and crossing her hands behind her head, watching me with a little smile. “I’m actually surprised that it doesn’t hurt anymore,” she admits. “It just feels a bit... weird when you touch them.”

My hand stops in-place. “Good weird or bad weird?”

I see her pretty breasts heave with a deep sigh. “I don’t know. Just not something I’m used to. And I don’t know if it’s weird for you or not—when I touch ’em, they feel like weird little misshapen nipples or oblong goose bumps or something.”

I close my eyes and glide my hand across her chest, my index finger tracing the underside of her breast. The texture is different, but I don’t find it to be gross or anything. “I don’t know,” I tell her. “I think the extra little bit of texture actually feels nice.”

Jen stares at the ceiling in a conscious effort to play it cool, but I see her flush a little, her nipples tightening right before my eyes. Her mind is awash in relief that I don’t find her to be gross—and an overwhelming desire to feel me fill her fertile womb with my thick hot cock-milk and make enough babies to repopulate the whole fucking planet (her exact words).

“Your body is fantastic,” I tell Jen as I caress her handful-sized breasts, taking her nipples between my fingers and giving them a gentle pinch. I begin to kiss down her stomach, feeling her breath speed up, and stop right before her neatly-trimmed pubic mound (I guess she found some razors in that bathroom) to add, “It’s almost enough to get me to throw on a collar and worship it.”

Jen lets out a little mewl, but I can read that it’s of thanks, not of arousal. In fact, while her body is responding to my touch, bringing a musky warmth to her loins as I kiss my way down, stiffening her nipples beneath my fingers, her mind is nonplussed about my line of dirty-talk. She’s enjoying the sentiment, but they’re not what she wants.

I stop and glance down at her manicured womanhood. “Looks like you’ve made yourself pretty for me,” I say, tracing a thumb up the moist length of her pussy lips.

Jen moans a little as both a physical and mental button are pressed. “Yesss.”

“Next time, shave it all.” I say the words like a command, careful to only to deliver the words with my voice, not my mind.

Jen reaches down to join my thumb down at her slit, running her fingers through her cropped mound and gently touching her clit hood. “Mmm, you don’t like my hair?”

To be honest, I do. Her hair is a dark, downy gold that she’s groomed to a perfect little triangle, pointing at her sweet little prize. But this isn’t about whether I like it or not. “It’s nice, but I want you to lose it.”

Her hands dip a little lower, pulling her lips apart and swirling fingers around her clit. “You want me to change it, just for you?”

She draws a sharp breath as I slip a long finger deep inside her, curling it up as though to press against the palm of the hand she has resting on her mound. I look up to see her eyes staring down at me, full of need, the mind behind it starting to get into the moment.

“I want to change it because I ask you to,” I tell her. “To show me you’re willing to do what I say.”

I lean in, and Jen moves her fingers to accommodate my mouth, slipping them back to spread her labia and pull back her hood.

I trace the tip of my tongue along the nub and savour the sweet musky taste that floods into my mouth. Jen squeaks at the light contact, and I feel the muscles in her thighs jump a little. The fireworks in her mind are still primed and ready to go, but her arousal at the thought of letting me control the state of her pussy causes one or two to shoot off, sending gentle tremors through her body but, thankfully, not setting off the main show.

“Anything,” Jen says, still spreading herself with one hand and running the other through my hair. “I’ll do anything you want.”

Her breath quickens, and her fuse—much shorter than it ought to be on account of the last two times we were interrupted before she could cum—gets dangerously close.

“Oh,” we hear as Karen awkwardly walks out of the bathroom, her raised arms putting her slender body on display as she re-fastens her collar. “I’m... I should let you...”

I lift my head and smile at the tall slender brunette, my fingers still gently massaging Jen’s most intimate points. “You should stay,” I tell her. “Jen needs you.”

Karen’s eyes are locked on my hand, watching my fingers slowly slide in and out of Jen’s wetness. The attention sets off another premature firework, and I feel Jen clinch around me.

“The problem is,” I say, slipping a second finger into Jen, coaxing out a little whimper, “Jen really seems to like my dick. Like, really like it. Right, Jen?“

The blonde takes a deep breath, trying to steady her mind before she answers. It somewhat works, but her voice is still practically a moan as she responds, “Yessss, I love the feel of that big manly cock against me...” Jen brings a hand up to one needy breast, kneading and pinching it as she continues, “in my hand... in my mouth... slapping against my face... shooting all over me...”

Karen swallows hard and nods slowly.

“The problem is,” I continue, “Jen needs to orgasm, but she can’t properly enjoy my penis while I’m sexually gratifying her. She deserves to be sexually gratified, doesn’t she, Karen?”

Karen nods, but I stare expectantly until she answers aloud. “Yes.”

“Well?” I say.

Karen finally breaks her eyes from Karen’s pussy to look to her eyes. “Mistress?”

Jen is in another universe, barely paying attention, so I answer for her. “Ask nicely.”

“Mistress Jen... may I...” I see Karen’s hand trail down to her own crotch to give herself a clandestine little stroke for courage before she continues, “may I gratify you?”

I make sure that enough fog is cleared from Jen’s mind to hear the request, and that request just throws the fog machine into overdrive. “Mmmmmyssssplsss” she mutters from the edge of orgasm.

I very carefully remove my fingers, and Jen’s motor begins to cool a little. “You head her,” I say. “Gratify your mistress.”

I leave Jen’s crotch and begin to move up her side. I intend to give her a little kiss on the ear and maybe say something clever or sexy, but as soon as she spots me out of the corner of her eye, her left hand snaps to my erection and she rolls onto her side, smacking herself in the cheek with the broadside of my hard-on.

Jen’s mind is a whirlpool of bliss, wrapping Karen’s leash around one hand, gently squeezing my shaft with the other as she nuzzles her face against the tip. In the evening light I can see the clear liquid of my pre-cum smear across her cheek, coating her lips as she begins to tap my stiffness against them.

“How’s your little pet doing?” I ask Jen, glancing down to see Karen giving her tentative kisses and licks, clearly out of her depth.

Jen pulls my shaft from her mouth to say “Needs improvement” before immediately going back to kissing up and down the side.

“I figured as much.” I turn to the girl struggling between Jen’s legs. “Hey, Karen! Have you never been eaten out before?”

Karen pulls an inch or so off of Jen’s pussy (as far as the leash would allow) and says, “Once or twice. It was okay, but...”

I can’t help but chuckle to myself. “Figures the abstinence crowd would be a lousy lay. Still, you’ve touched yourself, so you must have some idea what to do.”

Karen nods slightly. “I... I understand the basics, but I’ve never used my mmmf—”

Karen is cut off as Jen, growing tired of chit-chat, gives the leash a firm tug and yanks Karen’s mouth into her aching junction.

“Your mouth isn’t for talking right now,” Jen says with a smile, her words puffing hot air onto my throbbing member.

Karen hums apologetically and finally gets to work, her mouth moving as though she’s French kissing Jen’s pussy.

Jen releases me for a moment to grab a fistful of Karen’s hair to pull her slightly higher, moaning “Theeeere we go” and twitching a little before turning her attention back to me, grabbing my balls and wrapping her lips around the crown of my swollen dick.

I don’t need to read Jen’s mind to know that she’s on the razor’s edge—her hips begin to thrust towards Karen’s dutiful mouth, her bobbing head and swirling tongue begin to lose their rhythm on my cock, and she starts humming out a moan with every breath.

Finally, Jen releases my shaft and opens her mouth in a silent scream, tremors rolling through her hips and legs. I take my manhood from her mouth and begin to rub it against her face as she had earlier, thoroughly enjoying the sight of the beautiful woman riding out a long-overdue orgasm.

A few deep breaths in, Jen’s control slips and her ecstasy becomes a little less silent, losing herself in her orgasm and letting out a long, sexy, loud “Fuuuuuuuuuck!". When she hears her outburst echo off the walls, her eyes snap wide as she suddenly remembers that we’re not alone here. She gives a few panicked mews, trying to stuff the orgasm back in its cage and build the willpower to shove Karen off her clit so that she can recompose herself.

Deciding this simply won’t do, I tap the head of my cock into her open mouth. Jen takes the hint and closes her lips around it, using it to gag herself so that she can completely let go.

And let go she does. At this stage, Jen isn’t trying to pleasure me at all—I’m just in there as a human ball-gag (no pun intended)—but feeling her lips vibrate around my shaft as she moans out her first fully-unrestrained orgasm in decades is more than enough to keep the blood flowing.

As Jen begins to finally come down, her faculties once again click on and her lips and tongue begin to lazily stroke and swirl. Her grip on Karen’s leash loosens, and her blushing pet slowly leans back, breathing heavy, her hair severely mussed, her face slick with wetness, eyes wide in a mix of joy and disbelief.

Jen pops my cock out of her mouth to say “See what a girl can do with a little guidance?” and then immediately begins to lazily suck it again.

“Th—thank you...” Karen mumbles. “So... so much... that was...” she trails off.

“She did well,” I say to Jen, bringing a hand down to run my fingers through her blonde hair. “Think she deserves a reward?”

Jen hums around my shaft before pulling it from her mouth with a pop. “Your dick is busy,” she says matter-of-factly, then popping it back in.

I chuckle. “Not exactly what I was thinking—but your pet seems to be very riled up. I think she liked servicing you. Right, pet?”

I carefully listen in on Karen’s mind to see how ‘pet’ sticks with her. It doesn’t offer any rush like it would have coming from Jen, but she seems to like the nickname nonetheless.

“I... I did...” Karen mumbles, still in a daze. I eavesdrop in her mind as it tries to process so much at the same time: she just had oral sex with another woman. Not just any woman; she’d just hooked up with Mistress Jen. And it’s just the first day! After everything Karen had done, Jen still let her do such an intimate thing. And she actually liked doing it. Like, really, really liked it... and, what Karen found most mind-boggling of all: she finally realized that she actually had a crush of Jen since the very beginning.

“Show Jen how much you enjoyed servicing her,” I order.

Karen nods and raises herself to shaky feet, reaching down to spread her legs for her mistress.

“It’s a little dark in here. Show her.” Of course, there’s still enough evening light to see the shimmer of arousal smeared across her bald lips and escaping down her left leg, but I figure the opportunity to cement Karen’s notion that she likes women is too great to pass up.

Karen nods and slowly crawls up the bed to the opposite side of Jen, taking Jen’s leashed hand and pressing it against herself.

Karen shudders at the feel of Jen’s fingers slipping along her shamefully wet pussy. The rough nylon of the leash is coarse against her delicate skin, but the knowledge that her pussy is rubbing against a symbol of her submission more than makes up for the discomfort.

Jen’s tongue and lips begin to pick up their pace as she feels Karen grind herself against her hand, basically fucking herself with Jen’s fingers.

“How does it feel?” I ask Jen, knowing just how much of a rise both she and Karen are getting out of the gesture. “How aroused is that bald little pussy of hers?”

Jen responds by moaning and clamping her free hand around my ass cheek, pulling my hips into her as she bobs her head. I can see her other hand beginning to work as well, curling her fingers into Karen’s desperate cunt and rubbing her palm against the tall woman’s grinding mound.

“Did she do well?” I ask. “Are you going to give her permission to cum?”

Jen silently continues, pulling my cock down her throat a little deeper with every stroke, her fingers still relentlessly pushing Karen’s arousal further out of her own control.

Our little plaything is going to orgasm, one way or the other, and I’m relieved when Jen pulls her mouth off my cock barely long enough to say “Do it,” then plunging me back down her throat.

Those two words don’t just give Karen permission to let go—it gives her a sense of acknowledgement that she’s been missing her whole life. For the first time, an orgasm isn’t something that’s to be hidden behind closed doors and under thick blankets. It’s something that’s not only permitted—it’s encouraged.

Karen throws her head back, whipping her long hair against her haunches, her slender body tensing and shaking as she surrenders to primal sensation. Unlike Jen’s silent scream and moans, Karen’s orgasm is pure explosive passion, shouting so loud that her throat burns. Her hands immediately snap to her small breasts, pinching and twisting those big sensitive nipples as she gets lost in wave after wave of bliss.

“Holy fuck—” I mutter, feeling my own cock beginning to throb in Jen’s mouth. I turn my attention back to the blonde laying between us and pull myself out of her mouth, grunting out a warning that I’m about to cum myself.

Jen strokes my shaft, pointing it at her smiling face. “Cover me,” Jen says, her words emerging as a lusty hiss. “Coat me with your thick hot spunk. Mark me. Make me yours.”

Well, since she asked so nice...

For a moment, Karen ceases to exist—she’s just muffled sirens in the background as I watch the blonde goddess laying down before me, smiling that naughty little smile as my aching dick prepares to fill the world with jizz.

Okay, that might be a bit of an exaggeration. But not by far. Between the handy by the river and the oral sex this morning, my body has been preparing a monsoon. And, as Jen leans forward to give the tip one final lick, the levies break.

The first shot coats her tongue and elicits a surprised yelp, sending her to fall back onto the pillow and continue to stroke, watching with a playful smile as I unleash onto her, splashing across her lips and cheek, then her chin and neck, then her breasts twice.

My throbbing becomes a little weaker, but I still add another few dollops to the artwork that is her semen-splashed body before she’s finally satisfied with the mess I’ve made and she clamps her lips around my tingling, throbbing shaft to take the last of it into her mouth.

Finally spent, I let my knees finally completely buckle, sinking to my ass at her side, enjoying the sight of Jen smearing my essence into her pretty body.

On Jen’s other side, Karen has also dropped down, submissively resting her ass on her heels, watching through a haze as her mistress plays with her cum-coated tits.

From the other side of the door, I feel arousal and happiness. Strangely, Gwen and Bell are both radiating satisfaction—Gwen from being brought off by her companion, and Bell simply drawing his gratification from deftly bringing Gwen off as they eavesdrop on our admittedly-not-so-subtle romp.

Jen runs her finger across her cheek to collect some of my seed, opening her mouth to scoop it in, but pauses and smiles wickedly as she gets an idea that I only wish I had given her.

Jen gives Karen’s leash a gentle tug, and the tall brunette wakes from her blissful fog and crawls over to her mistress’ side.

The blonde extends her finger towards Karen’s face, careful to keep it from dripping into the bed.

Karen looks to me nervously, as though I have any say in her life. Still, I give a little nod, and Karen leans forward and wraps her lips around the finger, tongue working as she slowly draws back.

Jen smiles to her pet, and Karen returns her mistress’ grin. With another gentle tug on the leash, Karen crawls forward, dipping her face down to Jen’s chest, delicately lapping at the soft flesh, cleaning her pale body of my spunk.

“Mmmm,” Jen sighs. “I could get used to this.”

I gently stroke her hair and lean forward, giving her salty lips a delicate little kiss.

I smile down at Jen as her eyes flutter shut, enjoying Karen’s attention on her sensitive body.

As much as I’d like to stay in a state of post-orgasmic bliss, I can’t help but get caught on Jen’s words.

She likes it here. Karen likes it here. Gwen and Bell, who are now sneaking back to their room, both like it here. Fuck, I like it here.

The garden has vegetables. There’s tons of land around here to grow more. Likely a lot of rabbits and squirrels, too. We could clear out the bodies in the other room in an afternoon. Patch up the wall in a week. And, once Jen feels we’ve got our ducks in a row, I could start fucking babies into her, give her as big a family as I can, and die a peaceful death at a ripe old age, surrounded by family and loved ones.

It’s tempting. And it’s dangerous. What are the odds everyone left in the city will just leave us alone? Or our descendants? Red said that the clergy would do anything to keep power. They’re recovering their power. Rebuilding their ranks. Time isn’t our friend. If they get a chance to regroup, a handful of heathens on the edge of town wouldn’t stand a chance, no matter how many babies we leave behind.

Or would it? Maybe if we just kept to ourselves? Made a truce?

No. It’s not an option—not really—but it’s a thought that’s crossed Jen’s mind. And Karen’s. And Gwen’s and Bell’s. And I can’t blame them—the only things waiting for us in town is death, misery, conflict, and starvation. What sane person wouldn’t want to stick their head in the sand?

My mind drifts to the pink wire. The one that’s plugged into my brain through whatever weirdness fuels my powers. She said it’s a connection. Her number. Phones aren’t one-way.

Can you visit me tonight? I think at the pink wire. I’d like some advice. It’s weird, thinking at an abstract concept, and I feel kind of stupid doing it (especially with Karen gently licking semen off of Jen’s collarbone with her adorable little lapping tongue).

I don’t know if my message got through, but I finally decide that doubt has stolen too much of the afterglow, and I slide down to lay next to Jen, slipping an arm under her neck and holding her close while we watch her pet diligently lick her clean.

The sight of the three of us curled up in the bed is surprisingly innocent. I’m on my back, with Jen curled up against me, her leg thrown over mine, hand curled under my arm and against my chest, and Karen curled up behind Jen, spooning her as she snores away happily, somehow comfortable despite the training collar.

“I guess you got my message,” I say to the seemingly empty room.

“Aww,” Red says as she blinks into existence beside me. “I was hoping I could scare you onto the roof again.”

Fuck, there’s a body on top of the shop, isn’t there? I’d completely forgotten. “I could pretend if you wanted,” I tell her, looking down to see that beautiful, muscular, curvaceous naked body.

A part of me feels a little bad for checking out Red while Jen is literally curled up against me, marked with my cum, but judging by the newly-bisexualized Karen clinging onto her back, Jen probably isn’t exactly in a monogamous mindset right now.

Still, it’s fascinating to feel my cock begin to stiffen in front of me, and see the sheets tent below at the same time.

“Well, hello to you too,” Red says, gently wrapping her hand around my shaft and giving me a quick pump or two. “When you said you wanted advice, this isn’t what I thought you’d meant...”

I focus on making my body incorporeal and feel Red’s fingers pass through my dick, freeing me to float away from her. “Sorry, it’s not that,” I mutter; “it’s just you’re... well, you’re kind of fucking hot.”

Red’s disappointed to find her hand empty, but I see her freckled face blush a little. “So, what’s the problem?” She glances down and adds, “Looks like you’re doing pretty well for yourself.”

Red narrows her eyes and adds, “Is that a dog collar?”

I shrug. “She was a watcher.”

Red nods slightly, barely trying to mask the fact that she has no goddamn clue what I’m talking about.

“The people who helped the church find and punish others,” I add. “She’s the one who put Jen in that... thing.”

Red sighs. “Not gonna say she doesn’t deserve it, but slavery’s not really a great move.”

“It’s not slavery,” I say, maybe a bit too quickly. “Jen wanted to kill her, and I... I couldn’t let that happen. Jen’s a good person, so I tried to buy her some time, let her cool down. But when the watcher started confessing, I did a little... y’know... digging—” I tap my temple to illustrate what I mean— “I realized she’d been watching out of fear. And she fucking hated herself for it.”

Red’s brows furrow. “Was that realization you or her?”

I shrug. “I may have helped her realize that she was in the wrong, but, like your friend said, I can’t force something that isn’t already there. And this girl was desperate for a way to atone.”

“So that’s voluntary.”

I nod and float in closer, whispering as though Jen and Karen could hear me, “I think she actually kinda likes it.”

Red carefully watches us sleep, paying particularly close attention to Karen, looking for signs of unhappiness or fear.

In the room, Karen lets out a little hum of satisfaction and snakes her hand to Jen’s breast, unconsciously giving it a little squeeze as she dreams of new ways to please her mistress.

“Guess I’ll take your word for it,” Red finally says, justifying it in her mind that, were I actually a scumbag looking to build a harem of personal slaves, I would have forced her to be okay with it.

I quietly withdraw from her mind, not wanting to know what she’d infer if she knew I was eavesdropping on her reaction.

“The thing I wanted to ask you about was... well, we’re not in town right now. We hit the outskirts on a supply run, and found a house that’s most-way intact.”

Red nods. “Good call. Lots of farms, no looting.”

“Exactly. And... well, there’s a garden here. And a yard we can turn into more garden. And fields all over the damn place.”

Red sighs. “If you want to stay here, I won’t stop you. I’ll even understand.”

I shake my head. “You’re disappointed that I’d even mention it.”

She narrows her eyes. “Are you in my brain right now?”

“I don’t need to be,” I say truthfully. “I still have eyes and ears. Anyways, I know it’s a bad idea. The town right now is a bubbling cyst. If we ignore it, it’s only a matter of time before the infection takes us out.”

I hear a sigh of relief, then feel a swat to my arm. “Here you are letting me think you’re a complete dumbass,” she says.

I shrug. “Only a partial dumbass. Especially since I’m about to tell these wonderful people that we’re leaving paradise to move next to a hornet nest. I want to bring them some kind of stability like what we’d have here... but none of us know a goddamn thing about farming or gardening. Like, can we just rip up the parking lot of the mini-mall and grow wheat or some shit?”

Red laughs. “My whole deal is finding the scariest things in existence and burning them to the ground. You think I know the first thing about growing crops?”

I shake my head. “Guess not.”

“But I do know a little,” Red adds. “Like you can’t grow wheat in a parking lot. And that ripping up asphalt with your bare hands isn’t the best way to find open land. Hell, don’t you have a rich neighborhood like, a half-hour walk from my anchor point?”

“Your what?”

Red sighs. “You know, where we spent the night.”

Anchor point? Not even going to ask what the fuck that’s supposed to mean. But she’s right. It’s just a short trek across the woodlot, through the park, and across some high-end suburbs to get to where the social elite had lived.

Vacant mansions with massive yards. Rip out the grass and you’ve basically got farmland. And, best of all, the manors are massive, so we could probably house an entire little community in each one. Plus, if we’re rebuilding, living where all the local town and industry leaders lived is definitely good optics.

“Holy shit,” I mutter. “You’re right. You’re a fucking genius.”

Red laughs off this complement and gives me a swat on the back. “Sounds like you owe me one.”

“Wait... does that make us even?”

Her cheek draws up a little, pulling her mouth into somewhere half-way between a grin and a sneer. “Are you nuts? That doesn’t make us even. It just means you’re going to have to fuck the shit out of me after I fuck the shit out of you.”

I chuckle. “Eloquently put.”

“Well, I’m assuming we’re rain-checking our I-O-U’s, so I’m going to head back.”

“I think they’d be more I-F-U’s...”

Red gives a little laugh, then adding, “Oh, just remember, keep an eye on anyone you meet out here. People only survived out here by doing some pretty fucked-up shit.”

I smile. “Thanks, I’ll keep it in mind. And I promise, next time I reach out, we’ll start settling some of our debts.”

“Or making new ones,” Red adds with a wink.

And just like that she’s gone, leaving me floating above my body.

“Um...” I mumble to myself. “How am I supposed to—”

“—wake up,” I say aloud the following morning as I open my eyes.