The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The deep fog that that the alarm pulled Kate from this morning wasn’t so much a fog as the sensation of her mind being buried in layers of thick cotton that she had to claw herself from to reach the button with a slap that not only turned off the alarm but flipped it through the air and onto the floor.

Her limbs felt leaden and she didn’t want to move at all, not because she felt ill, or even odd. It was simply that if she moved she was afraid she’d also lose the warm, safe, comfortable feeling she was wrapped in. That plush comforter was a cocoon on the inside as much as the out. The warmth permeated every inch of her. The door was unlocked and yet she was safe. The people she came here to meet were different from her, but not so alien and bizarre as she thought they’d be. Nothing she feared she’d find she’d actually found.

And there was Rose.

Rose Khyber was everything Kate thought she was even when comparing it to the vision of her that existed before Kate met her, back when fandom made her just an icon to be sought after and revered. She was beautiful, intelligent, wise, funny and a thousand other positives Kate had expected to find, but all those things taken together were a beautiful thing to actually be near. She smiled as Rose’s words, blushy and crushy popped into her head. Yeah, definitely fangirl crushing.

She’d barely admitted to herself that she’d had this fantasy of being the one to lead her back into civilization and maybe share in some of that. Her warm feeling soured just a touch when she realized that wouldn’t have made her much better than the sycophants that even the perfectly contented Rose Khyber still didn’t like much.

She was perfectly happy here and there was no going back, for her or any of them, and Kate had to admit they had reason to be happy. They had certainty in their lives and routines that other people would kill for. They had community. They had unity. They had peace. They had love for each other, passion, even.

Then there was Brandon.

He was Rose’s everything. Kate could see it. Anyone could see it. And she could see why. He was darling to her. He was deferential in his own way, but they both sort of knew he was in charge, and they were both content in that. And the way they kissed...it was like she was trying to become a part of him, or give him everything. They had love and balance in the end, and Kate felt a bit of envy at that. I’ll have to look over the shy ones first from now on.

And yet a little more envy at the thought of what their sex must be like. The thought made her stretch like a lazy cat as bits of barely remembered dreams surfaced in her consciousness to tease her. There wasn’t a lot to remember beyond darkness and feeling good.

And voices. That was it, she realized. Rose was speaking to her, or maybe singing. Whatever it was, it was nice. Kate rationalized that it must have been her mind trying to put the euphoria of the interview and story of a lifetime into perspective. She had enough notes for an ongoing series and that was certainly reason enough to expect her mind to start playing with it all, even if she wasn’t there to control, or even be aware of it.

Anyway, her ticket was punched. Once she got home and put the dozen legal pads together into something coherent, it’d just be a matter of picking the job she wanted while she did a couple of victory laps on the cable networks.

She looked out her window knowing that the first rays of dawn would be appearing soon and there was work to be done all around. She switched her computer on while absent-mindedly giving the room a quick clean, hoping to try again to use it to put the article together. This time, even from feet away, it felt like those needlepoint needles were piercing her eyes. Maybe the refresh rate’s messed up. Or maybe I just need an eye doctor.

She showered quickly, dressed, and finally stood before her mirror with her powder blue bonnet, placing it firmly on her head and beginning to tie it to herself without thought to her own thoughts:

My bonnet.

My bonnet is mine. My bonnet is comfortable. My bonnet is cute. My bonnet is a necessary part of life here. It is a necessary part of my life here. My bonnet helps guide me. My bonnet trains me and rewards me. My bonnet teaches me what is proper. My bonnet corrects me and teaches me correctness in all things. My bonnet teaches me my place. My bonnet teaches me the man’s place.

Her eyelids fluttered back to open, leaving Kate unaware of the pause her fingers took on the loops of the bow at the moment it was tied. “Maybe they’ll let me have it as a keepsake when I go,” she muttered.

Liking how she looked in the mirror she looked at her clock and then out the window to see that there was no Vanessa trudging towards her and there wouldn’t be for a bit yet, assuming that Vanessa kept to her schedule and Kate had no fanciful notion that she wouldn’t. Hah. Wonder if she’ll pop a blood vessel if I of all people beat her to the milking today.

It would probably please her.

Correctness.

And it would show Brandon and Rose that I value what they do here and who they are.

Joy.

She smiled broadly as she left her little house in the field, finding that that even that thought amused her, too. She pressed on towards the small dairy barn and the two cows there that likely had no other purpose than to give here a mere taste of what they did every morning in the surrounding small towns they populated, but her little community here and now made use of the milk, so what she did for them was important.

Correctness.

When she drew nearer to the barn however, the sound of voices was unmistakable. She slowed her approach when she realized the sounds of those voices were in the midst of something far more primal than talking, though what talking they were doing made the blue chatter the wives were doing in the kitchen seem like a debate over whether or not using self-threading needles was ‘fair’ in sewing by comparison.

The voice was distinctly Brandon’s.“Suck this cock. C’mon...come on. Come suck it.” It was commanding. It was demanding. It had the plaintive edge of a desperate need not being met and perhaps a hint of self-torment, as though he were as responsible for his own denial as anything else.

The purely prurient part of Kate responded with a force that would not be denied. Where Brandon was, Rose would be. She began to creep slowly into the building, not wanting to disrupt a thing. And, while she would never violate anyone that way in a million years, she at least admitted to herself that five minutes of Rose Khyber captured by her phone’s camera would be worth a not-so-small fortune. Indeed, that truth just made her want to capture the sight with her own eyes all the more.

He snarled at Rose.“Yeah, that’s it. You’re a good little bitch, aren’t you?”

She replied, “Mmm-hmm,” with her mouth obviously stuffed.

“Make me cum, bitch.”

The, “Mmm-hmm,” that came in acknowledgment sounded as much like, “Yes, Master.” as wordless sound could manage.

As she crept past the stable doors the sound of fervent, wet sucking drew her forward like a siren’s song as male groans and filthy words drew her by vibrating her clit.

“Work it... like that. Good chubby whore. Proper chubby whore. Been thinking of that mouth for days.”

Chubby? Confusion only mixed with the curiosity and pulled her past the doors upon hearing the squeal that followed as though the praise alone had unleashed an orgasm.

Standing just beyond the doors, Kate peered to her left to see Brandon standing there seemingly naked from the waist down, feet buried in a pile of straw, his ass slowly moving back and forth as Vanessa slurped away. Kate stood in shock as the ideas she had of Rose and Brandon as some perfect example of opposites attracting evaporated.

She imagined that Vanessa’s hair had been as meticulously pinned and perfectly placed as she pinned and placed Kate’s only a couple of mornings before, but it was so not that way now. The left side fell over her shoulders, a single pin stranded alone in the blonde mane while the rest was a tangled mess. Her dress and slip were around her waist, putting her mammoth breasts on full display. It all looked as though they simply couldn’t wait to get hold of one another.

She broke away from sucking him so she could heft one breast and lick it seductively before loudly inhaling the nipple as she stroked the shaft of his cock with her free hand with an aggressive grip and fast pace, keeping him at a high plateau.

“Needed me, Brandon? You needed these. You love watching them move while you fuck. You like sucking them and biting them and slapping them. You men love owning all the pussy you see. You like knowing every woman’s body is at your cock’s beck and call to do every filthy thing you crave when you crave it. You like that we fucking want to do it.”

He whimpered in agreement as she sucked him down her throat again. He used her mouth, his ass thrusting more vigorously now as she met each thrust.

Correctness.

As ashamed of herself at the thought as she was because, even if she only met her yesterday, she couldn’t help but consider Rose a friend, especially after her baring her soul to Kate like no one outside of this place in years, she admitted to herself that it was hot. It was hot watching his ass pump like a machine the way a man was supposed to fuck.

Correctness.

It was hot watching her fuck back, pushing her nose down into the hair between his legs the way she was supposed to to enhance his pleasure.

Correctness.

It was hot watching how she trembled and her eyes misted, as though she were cumming the entire time.

Correctness.

Kate watched as he forced himself from her with effort on his part and a popping sound from her as she disengaged, pulling her to him. Kate’s eyes widened seeing his long, thick, wet cock for the first time. It seemed almost incongruous on a body like his, but there it was and she felt a sense of undeniable want.

Correctness.

Brandon, now flat on his back, pawed those breasts, raking his nails like claws down the flesh before squeezing them as she straddled him and her hands disappeared under her skirt. “That’s right. You play. You play with my tits and relax and let me take care of that pussy-hungry cock.”

At first Kate noticed Vanessa’s quiet, ragged breathing even from where she was. But then she realized it was her own as she felt her hand try to fight its way under her dress. A war erupted in her own mind, a war between the woman who had her own notions of what love was and what sex meant and the woman who wanted to defile herself listening to Vanessa whimper submissively while a man not her husband bounced her up and down frantically on his cock so roughly it seemed as though he just wanted to see how much and how fast he could make her tits flop around.

She backed herself away, having to literally force her legs to move away from the delicious sounds of Brandon calling her a fat-tittied slut and how his filth made her screech.

She made her way to the house and, as she got farther from the spectacle Kate found herself more able to push her own arousal aside with sheer force of guilt. How do I tell her? She has a right to know. Hell, she probably wouldn’t believe me anyway, she’s so far into him.

No. She deserves to know. She deserves to know, even if she doesn’t care in the end. Just leave the part out about you being ten seconds away from molesting yourself watching it.

When she got to the house she opened the inner door to find Rose pulling pans from under the stove and setting them atop the burners in preparation for breakfast. She turned and smiled warmly at Kate, still that vision in blue and white. “Hi, Kate. You’re way early today.” She noted the absence of a pail in her hand and looked at her curiously. “You okay? Where’s the milk?”

She thought she knew what it was and came to her looking sympathetic. “Kate, honey, did you try getting an early start and spill it or something?” Her voice brushed the concern away. “Now, look, I know Vanessa can come off as a little hard around the edges sometimes but it’s really okay. We’ve all done that. She’ll just give you one of those disappointed sighs, then move on and it’s over. You don’t have to look like someone just ran over your cat.” She couldn’t hold back a grin at the thought. “It’s just spilled milk...literally.”

Kate took Rose’s hands, Rose’s soft, beautiful hands in hers and steeled herself. “It’s not that. There’s something I have to tell you.”

Now Rose’s brow knotted, beginning to share some of Rose’s concern. “What’s wrong?”

She led rose to the couch and sat down next to her, her fingers stroking that hand, telling herself they were just doing so to be comforting. “It’s about Brandon...”

“What about him?” Her tension notched upward even though she’d reasoned that if what she were asking were true there’d be a lot more panic in the air. “He’s not hurt, is he?”

Kate shook her head quickly. “It’s nothing like that. Honest.” She took a deep breath and held it. “Look, I know we don’t know each other all that well, and I know you might not believe me, but I’m not making this up to hurt you or spice up the story or anything, but it’s about Brandon and Vanessa.”

“And?”

“Well, I did go out early to get the milking done and I...” She struggled with the next words, “saw them.”

Her head tilted forward. “Saw them?”

She pressed her lips together and found her courage. “I saw them having sex, and I thought you should know.”

Kate vented her relief before laughing that charming, rapid-fire giggle that was the sound of her laughter. “You mean you saw them fucking like they were never going to get to do it again.” She spoke through her sigh, “Ohhh, Kate, I don’t care about that. He’s just doing what a man is built to do and meant to do, and so is she. Even if it wasn’t her place as a woman here, it’s what she was meant to do.”

Correctness.

The sensation hit her harder this time. Whereas before it was a whisper urging her towards where she needed to be she felt it now as a force in her mind and it unnerved her, even more because as much as she didn’t understand it, she sort of did. She pressed on, trying to ignore it, or at least process her way through it so the odd feeling would go away.

“I know you said you didn’t have any jealousy. I mean, I sort of get that. I don’t care if my boyfriend looks at other women. I don’t care if he looks at porn. Hell, I’ve found a couple of them really good stuff, but that’s different than actually letting them do things with someone else.”

Her tone turned slightly more serious. “I said jealousy is a vile poison and it is. There’s no room for it. It’s a hurtful force, so it doesn’t exist here. Red-faced anger. Violence. They’re all poisons that the community has removed.”

Correctness.

She listened even if she couldn’t see how you could just get rid of things like that.

“Kate, even you understand that men are doing what they need to when they go to porn or their eyes track the insanely hot woman on the dance floor to vent their natural urges. He’s not sitting, staring at that screen thinking of you. He’s watching ‘Alexis,’ ‘Sasha,’or whatever her name is, and fucking her and cumming for her. But sitting in front of that screen is all his woman allows him to do and it’s better than nothing, and he loves her, so he lives with it. Women have those needs, too, but, often, they are just better at repressing or justifying them. It’s how you can find him that porn and allow it and not calling it cheating even though you know he’s taking satisfaction from that other person.”

“But here men are allowed to be the wild creatures they are meant to be and, by extension, so are we by becoming what they need us to be. In return, we surrender to love, peace, and correctness. You understand a bit of that, that’s why you helped your men as much as you did.”

Correctness.

Kate blinked rapidly. She looked into those eyes that had the intensity to melt rock into a fiery pool and began to melt, too. Rose’s hand on her cheek hardened her nipples against her slip and set her heart to racing. She tried to tamp down her pounding heart and nervous energy that threatened to set her ablaze. “I guess I see what you’re saying, but that just...”

“Ivy understands.”

Confusion muddled everything in an instant. “What are you…?”

“Ivy knows,” Rose said, her voice at once soothing, but determined, “Ivy knows how things should be, but Kate keeps her away from the world because ‘simple’ doesn’t fit into Kate’s world. There’s no room for it with all the computers and social media and this idea Kate has about how Kate should be that doesn’t include sweet, old-fashioned Ivy.”

Correctness.

“I...”

“Kate hides Ivy from the world to hide Ivy from herself, because Ivy is who she really is. I see it. I know you do, too, now. Our bonnets show us what is important. They show us our place. They show us correctness and bring us peace. Ivy understands that. Ivy needs that. Ivy wants that more than anything.”

Correctness.

Kate tried to force her way through that feeling that was now a current sweeping her towards the churning rapids My bonnet? What the hell is she talking about?

My bonnet.

Correctness.

Rose watched the confusion with sympathy. “Let me show you something lovely.” She got up from the couch, her hands still holding Kate’s as they rose together, Kate, borrowing Rose’s will as she led them both up the stairs and down the hall. And when she opened the door to the master bedroom Kate sighed at the vision before her.

It was the first sound from her in long moments, but there was no other reaction she could manage at the sight of Jennifer, Kelsey, and Adette in a tangle of limbs, probing fingers, and dancing tongues. In a bit of insanity that somehow made perfect sense to Kate, the women’s dresses were neatly folded next to one another with the shoes well separate in the corner, bonnets resting atop the clothes, facing the bed as if a silent audience.

The women were giggling, and whispering words of love that co-mingled with filthy words that would bring forth a growl, kiss, or a probe in response. Kate watched helplessly. If someone had told her that if she didn’t turn away in five seconds the world would explode, she knew it would explode. There was something as beautiful there as it was raw, passionate, and purely animal with all those smooth, sexy legs, and the lusty curves of asses and natural breasts.

Kate wanted it. Or maybe just Ivy did. It was so hard to tell the difference right now that it was tiring to try to figure it out. It was easier to just be in the moment and watch the love.

Love.

Correctness.

She relaxed.

“Isn’t that truly why you pushed so hard to come here,” Rose asked, her voice sounding almost as if she were singing when she was quizzing the other. “Ivy saw her chance. Ivy saw her chance at the life she needed, so she lets Kate tell herself that it’s all for fame and fortune. Ivy saw her chance at the life that was best for both those parts of you. And your pretty blue bonnet that’s yours helps show Kate the way and the truth.”

Just when she thought he’d never be able to peel her eyes away from the sight before her, her eyes tracked left as Rose’s nude body moved to the corner of the room to place her neatly folded bundle of clothes next to those of her sisters in the community, bonnet atop as perfectly for her as the rest.

She looked as Rose came towards her. She looked at the way the hair cascaded down her back. She looked at those breasts that were full, lush, and proud. She looked at those shapely hips and mound with nothing but a fine down. She looked at Rose’s body and she hungered. She hungered as Rose stood before her and watched her want, “Do you want me like I want you?”

“Yes,” was all she could manage and even that single word was labored.

“Would Kate have wanted me like this?”

The shake of her head back and forth once was almost imperceptible.

“But Ivy wants me. Ivy wants me like I want her. Tell me, Ivy, why do you want to love me? Why do you want to fuck me?”

“Because...I have a bi pussy. The men here need their women to have bi pussies.”

Correctness.

She groaned in satisfaction at the feeling and let Rose take her hands one more time and lead her to the bed. She whimpered in some small bit of fear as Kelsey began to untie the bow to her bonnet, but they all did their best to soothe her, “It’s all right now, Ivy,” Adette said, “What’s right is inside you now as much as anything else, we promise.”

What followed were those rapids that she had felt herself heading towards subsuming her in wave after wave of pleasure. The women welcomed her, eager to explore her, eager to love and welcome her and she was no less eager to be welcomed. Ivy bit hard and nibbled and licked and groped, loving each of them in turn as they loved one another together.

But Rose was special. She knew that now, and it wasn’t just that it was the promise of what Rose could do for her life in the outside world. She loved them all. Each touch proved that to her. Each touch and kiss was like its own orgasm distinct from the one before or after, but Rose was just that much above the rest. She loved Rose and knew the love was returned completely.

When Rose nestled that mound over and just above her lips and she could inhale the scent that gave her goosebumps all over even as she felt blissfully overwhelmed by those eyes bearing down on her, though they conveyed nothing but joy at what they both knew was inevitable. Ivy wallowed for a moment in certainty. It’s what’s meant to be.

Correctness.

She took three hesitant licks before filling her lungs with the scent and licked with whorish abandon while the other women touched them both, losing herself in those eyes. In less than a minute Rose shuddered violently...squirting, drenching the face and mouth beneath her. There was a valiant effort to take it all, but there was simply too much. The women laughed sweetly, teasing them both playfully, but they let the two of them have their moments.

Some time after, Rose pulled away from her other reluctantly as Vanessa’s voice could be heard. “I guess this means breakfast will be turning into brunch?”

“Looks like, Brandon said, “but we’re okay with that, aren’t we?”

They looked to see Vanessa standing with Brandon who just looked at them with that bashful charm.

Rose spoke up, gesturing towards the women beneath her. “She saw you being a proper man with Vanessa.”

“Look at her,” he said, “she’s gorgeous and full-bodied. And those tits. God, I love those tits.”

Vanessa simply blushed at the praise. “Randy knows you do.”

Rose kissed her again after turning back to her. “Ivy understands why Brandon has to do that and why I have to allow it...don’t you?”

She looked at them, remembering the spectacle in the barn, yet seeing it in an entirely new way, her voice sure. “Because Brandon is a man. He’s built to fuck any woman that will let him slake his urges and spread his seed. That’s his place. Vanessa’s a woman and she’s built to be fucked and slake his urges and give herself to those urges and to him, and to his happiness because he’s the man and has needs and knows best.”

Hearing the truth come from her turned him on as though he hadn’t fucked in ages. His cock pressing against his trousers he drank in the sight of her body, from her own long legs, to breasts every bit as full as Rose’s that seemed to resist gravity perfectly. They looked at one another and, as he hungered, she seemed to surrender.

It was time.

He started to disrobe and Ivy watched Rose come to the edge of the bed and undo his belt and trousers as Vanessa began to strip as well. Ivy briefly wondered how she’d managed to put herself back together as though she hadn’t been behaving like a wanton whore, but the sight of his bare chest peeking through and the sight of his cock fully erect stole her attention. She looked at it and her mouth watered as her pussy dripped anew. It was hot enough as it was but the heat that came with thinking about where that thing had just been was tangible and touching it just made her hotter.

She felt badly for having so judged him the day before. He was beautiful. He was perfect and he had picked her and he was about to make her his.

Correctness.

Ivy rode that feeling and the extra rapture from the fact that her bonnet was part of her now even though she was separated from it.

She watched him fold his own clothes and not lose a hint of hardness before Rose took them, placing them on the chair near the bed as he himself folded his silver-buttoned vest almost reverently atop the pile.

Adette laced her fingers to Ivy’s as he climbed the bed, beginning to kiss her. She bit her lip, and dog like panting followed. Each kiss didn’t just feel good, each kiss of his lips as they cut a path from breast to shoulder to her neck felt like sex. Each felt like its own, individual, blissful experience and she cried out with each one, embracing each little orgasm. Hearing the same come from him in that uniquely male lustful growl was like a cherry on top of the most decadent sundae ever created.

Her eyes drifted for an instant to his clothes before his face became her world and the small kisses he planted the source of every good thing in the universe. He’d noticed and responded. “As your bonnet leads you to the truth, our vests lead us. They tame the wild in our hearts. Untaught men would do...horrible things to proper women in a place like this. Outsider men with their jealousy, greed, and hatred of women and hatred of themselves? No. No abuse. No violence. Those are things the community has removed. Men have responsibilities to the women that they take and love and that love them.”

“It’s why I had to try not to laugh when you worried about my money, my love.” Rose said with pride. “He couldn’t bring himself to steal from me even if he wanted to, not that that was ever who he was to begin with.”

“We know our place as protector and lover.” His lips came to hers and hers parted on their own, letting his tongue become part of her. Rose had called her brownies sublime, but they held no comparison to this. He tasted so good she was sure she could live on his kisses alone.

Kelsey laced her hand to Ivy’s as she felt Jennifer lift her left ankle and hold it firmly and high as Rose came back to her ear, fingers running as they pleased over her body. “What’s your name?”

There was no hesitation.“Ivy.”

“Brandon has picked you, Ivy.”

“I know.”

“Will you give Vanessa your other leg? It’s just tradition for the choosing. She willingly surrenders.”

“Mmmmmmm.” The thought raced through her mind.

“If only you could put that in your story. I was crying, Ivy. I was crying and begging. I wanted it to happen. I wanted to be taken away from all that was before. I didn’t know exactly what was happening, but I didn’t care. I gave them my hands and my ankles and I begged for Brandon to do it. Those outsiders that’d read that wouldn’t understand, but you do.”

She looked at the warm expression on Vanessa’s face and placed her ankle in that waiting hand, watching her leg be lifted. “I do understand.”

He lifted himself to his knees over her as Rose lifted herself enough to take his cock and guide it to Ivy’s sopping hole. She gave his cock a lick and his belly a kiss as he slowly drove home.

Her eyes rolled back to the whites as he worked deeper and deeper, each short thrust claiming more and more of her. Claiming me. Brandon picked me. I’m Brandon’s now.

Correctness. Reward.

She screamed as she claimed yet another wave of joy.

Once he’d filled her as completely as he could he hooked his arms under her shoulders for leverage and began to fuck her. She loved it. She loved the restraint of his weight and the loving restraint of the women with her. Ivy could look over his shoulder and see Rose’s hair falling forward as she kissed up his spine.

Brandon whimpered helplessly as he pounded into her. “God, I love you, Ivy. I wanted you so bad and now you’re here. I love you so much.”

“I love you, too, Brandon...so fucking much. It was simply so and the sense of absolute correctness that came with that was as it should be. Whatever he wanted was what would be. She knew he would never hurt her or take advantage of the everything she gave. “I’m yours. I love you and I’m yours.”

She loved them all. She would give that same everything to them forever and always. Then a thought occurred to her: Brandon likes dirty little bitch mouths.

Ivy took her hand back, grabbing his head via a handful of hair as he plowed mercilessly. “Did you even wash that cock, Brandon?”

“Hmmmmmm…?” the puzzlement mixed with the lust to be just coherent enough.

The only thing that kept Ivy able to speak through her own ecstasy was the fact that it was pleasing him. “Did you even bother to wash Vanessa off that cock before you shoved it up inside me? You didn’t, did you?”

“MMMMMmmmmmmmmmmm...no. Fuck, Ivy. No, I didn’t.”

“Of course you didn’t. That’s what’s going to happen, isn’t it? You’re going to go lift whatever other blue dress you want and then come home and stick it in me or Rose? Or me and Rose?”

“I’m a man, he said. “I need to.”

“And you fucking like it.”

“Yessssssssssssss.”

Rose’s petal soft lips touched Ivy’s again. “Your holes are going to be popular with the men, too, Ivy, don’t kid yourself about that. They will be splaying you open for stuffing often. That long tongue is going to be making the rounds of the women, too.”

Ivy’s cunt gripped his cock at the idea and she salivated at the notion of making the rounds. “Like that Brandon? I’ll lick Vanessa for you...while you watch. Maybe I’ll still taste you inside her. Will I?”

“My God you’re a hot, nasty cunt.”

“But that’s what you, need, sweetie. That’s what you want and need me to be; all polite and proper and shy in public, but in our bedroom...just your nasty, completely shameless, bi pussy whore.”

“Yes! Yes, Ivy.” His ass slamming was making the bed creak as Ivy gave her hand back to Kelsey to hold as he took his fill of her. “That’s what I want.”

“Then that’s what I’ll be for you because I love you and I’m yours.”

He pumped even faster. She knew his orgasm was close even as she felt she’d been riding a continuous one for a while now that would spike anew every few thrusts. It was so intense already that she couldn’t imagine it being any better.

When he came though, when she felt it in the tightening of his muscles and the hoarseness of his voice. When she heard him wail as, she realized, he must have with Vanessa, she came with him with an intensity that she didn’t think it was possible to feel and stay sane. She now fully understood how Adette could completely forget English. It was Ivy’s native tongue and she knew she’d have a hard time stringing words together just then.

She’d lost track of time and reality for a long while and, as she came back, she felt him still on top of her and inside her while the sole of her right foot ran affectionately up and down the back of his leg. Sweat covering them both, she looked around at the smiling, happy faces of those that shared the experience. He kissed her. They kissed one another. “I love you, Ivy.”

“I love you, too.” She loved them all. Brandon and Rose were on a slightly higher pedestal, but that was to be expected. Ivy loved them all and they loved Ivy. She belonged to all of them and they to her. But Brandon? He was nothing short of divine. She understood so much now. And in those little things that were still unclear? Rose would teach her and the thought sat prominently within her that My bonnet will teach me the way and the truth.

Correctness.

He was relaxed and in the afterglow still needing to kiss her as he spoke. “There’s a reason I was able to convince everyone to let you come here and do the interview you wanted.”

She was curious, but unconcerned. None of that really mattered anymore. He had chosen her and it brought her a thrill to realize that Ivy had brought Kate to obedience before either truly realized what that meant. “Tell me.”

He began with, “We need you.”

With those three words alone he had her absolute attention.

Brandon leaned into Ivy and she turned her cheek to get that electric little kiss before he headed off. “Ryan is having some trouble with his tractor and I said I’d help.”

“You just like the way Veronica says thank you,” she teased.

“I never denied that,” he said with a lopsided grin, but decided to tease her himself. “I’m sure Ryan will want to discuss your spending Wednesday night.”

She smiled at the remark. “As always, whatever you think is best.” It would be so simply because that was the way of things, but she also knew full well what he would end up finding ‘best’ for her and she thrilled at it.

Correctness.

She didn’t need that sense from her bonnet anymore, not as a nudge, whisper, or a full-fledged check of her thoughts, but she liked it as its own reward. It meant she was being proper and following the way to the truth, as was her place. Sometimes she would lay in the hammock on the property, rock between the two oak trees, and go from one proper thought to the next simply to float on that sea of serenity her bonnet would give her.

Sometimes she and Rose would do that together, giving voice to those proper thoughts for one another. And sometimes, after the longer chores were done, they’d make love in the grass as she urged Rose to ‘suck her wet, bi cunt dry.’ She certainly tried, but she had yet to be able to keep up with the wetness, much less suck Ivy dry. They would spend each other, then lay together for as long as they dare before coming back in to do the things that needed doing before Brandon made it home for the day.

And all of that was correct, too.

She watched happily as he put a kiss on Rose and listened to their banter before he departed. When it was only the two of them, they embraced and kissed deeply. Lingering close, Rose pondered, “If there’s time after you’re done, maybe you could help me make some brownies?”

“Trying to fatten me up?”

“I’m not sure that’s possible,” she asserted wistfully. “Seems like you can eat as you please and not gain an ounce.”

“Hate me for it?”

“Just the tiniest, most acceptable bit.” Her smile was the sweetest thing.

“One condition?”

Rose tilted her head and waited patiently.

“Sing to me later; that new one you’re working on?”

The smile had yet to leave her face. “Blushy, crushy fangirl.”

“Yes.”

“I’ll work on it as we work on the brownies, how’s that?”

“Deal.”

Satisfied at the awesome that she had to look forward to she sat down at the desk in their bedroom.

Ivy watched their reflection in the blank monitor as Kate reached to the bed and picked up her bonnet. “You want?”

“Yes, please.” she said, already in relaxed anticipation at the feel of it. “It helps me focus to write.”

In the house Kate didn’t have to worry about their hair being done up properly to hide it under the bonnet. Brandon didn’t concern himself with it as he was more relaxed than some of the other men who earned the moniker ‘loving sticklers.’ For them, if it was to be worn at all it always had to be properly so. Though, even when those men came to call for whatever reason all was well because it was Brandon who was the king of his particular castle, as it was with all the men.

She placed it on Ivy’s head and heard her breath catch. Rose envied Ivy’s restraint as sometimes she couldn’t stifle the moan that having it it against her head brought out of her, though she did like Ivy’s squeak as the bow touched her chin. Rose couldn’t stop herself from leaning in to kiss and touch. She loved Ivy so.

Ivy, for her part took all her will to open her eyes and focus. “I’m turning it on before you turn me on too much for me to actually do my thing.”

Rose jumped away with a laugh, “Okay, okay, waitwaitwaitwaitwait.” She scampered towards the door, not looking back. “See you later, love.”

The door closed with a firm click and Ivy let her laptop come alive. It didn’t bother her like it had before, and it never would again. While none of the other women truly had the urge to explore that part of the world anymore on their own firsthand, they had pride in Ivy for being able to because that was simply the purpose for which the community decided it needed her.

And, whatever those she loved needed, she would do.

There were so many men and women in need. They ached inside from the pain in their lives. They yearned for something simpler. The right ones had to be found, nurtured, and led here to strengthen the community as much as to bring them peace from their troubled, confused lives. Her reputation in this corner of the world and her ability to speak in so matter-of fact a way and yet so eloquently would help her find those most in need of the way and the truth. Ivy would be the community’s careful voice in the cyber world.

She had all her notes before her as she stared at that black screen she now preferred for writing and watched the white letters flow. All of her notes would find a use, though not in the way she’d originally intended. That was correct though, as the person who wrote now was not the same person that had arrived only a few weeks before.

She typed and the words flowed:

You all know Rose Khyber, multi-platinum recording artist, winner of enough awards to fill a semi-truck and, according to most, including me, the voice of her generation. She spoke to us through her music in a way nothing short of timeless and in a way that I doubt anyone will duplicate.

And most of you know me as Lady Technomage, Queen of the PC Master Race, gossipmonger of Silicon Valley, and general know-it-all when it comes to anything you have to write code for to make work beyond it being a sleek paperweight.

I decided I wanted something different and that that voice of a generation was also going to be a springboard for me to take serious journalism by storm. If she were willing, I could use that voice, with my own, to carve my path. And, as those of you that have followed me over the years and through several iterations of Moore’s Law, and several debates on whether Moore’s Law even applies anymore, once Lady Technomage sets her sights to doing something, it gets done.

All I had to do was convince modern music’s greatest recluse, a woman who literally had everything most people dream of and walked away from it without looking back once to talk to me when she had no reason to talk to me or anyone else.

She didn’t miss the world and no one understood why. I certainly didn’t. What’s not to love about always being connected and always being on stage, even if that stage is on your lap in front of the television as opposed to a 20,000 person arena showing people only what they want to and expect to see? I was used to it. It defined who I was.

Rose agreed to talk to me, so I hopped in my car and drove as quickly as I could to get the story of a lifetime. Instead, with the help of Rose and some of the wonderful people here, I found my own story as well as hers.

My name is Ivy, and I found something better.

Let me begin to explain…