Denise woke to the soft press of Neil’s body against hers, his arm draped over her waist, his breath warm on her neck. The king-sized bed in their shared master suite—hers and Neil’s, always—cradled them in its plush embrace, the morning sun filtering through heavy curtains, casting a golden glow across the hardwood. She smiled, her heart swelling at the familiar weight of him, the man who’d claimed her body and soul and never strayed from her bed, no matter how many other women he fucked. Neil’s was her anchor, a truth etched into every night he spent here, his cock buried in her, his whispers of devotion lulling her to sleep. But as she stirred, slipping from his embrace to pad barefoot to the bathroom, a quieter feeling gnawed at her—a mix of pride, envy, and unease that had taken root since Amelia arrived.

She was his first, his queen, the one he’d built this mansion with after Series 3, when Lust Island had made them legends. But Amelia’s presence—blonde, perky, with that “Touch of Ecstatic Overload” power—had shifted the air. Chloe’s hypnotic tits still commanded attention, but Amelia was new, eager, her screams for Brandon’s cock echoing through the halls, her loyalty to Neil fierce. Denise felt the spotlight tilt, Neil’s gaze lingering on Amelia’s curves, his dominance flaring as he fucked her, claimed her, added her to his harem. It stung, a needle in her pride, but fuck, it was hot too—Neil’s hunger, his power to conquer more women, his cock ruling them all. He wasn’t the lazy bastard he’d been before, lounging while she kept the house running. Now, he was a king, and she loved him for it, even if it meant sharing him.

She dressed in a fitted tank top and leggings, her curves accentuated, and headed downstairs, her mind already on the day’s tasks. The mansion was a beast—glass walls, sprawling rooms, a pool that sparkled but needed skimming, a gym Brandon trashed daily. Neil had promised to fix the leaky faucet in the guest bath and check the pool pump, but getting him to focus when he was horny was like herding cats. She found him in the kitchen, shirtless in sweatpants, his lean muscles flexing as he poured coffee, his dark hair mussed from sleep. “Morning, babe,” he said, grinning, pulling her close for a kiss that tasted of espresso and desire. Her body melted against his, her pussy tingling, but she pulled back, hands on her hips.

“Morning, king,” she teased, her voice warm but pointed. “You gonna tackle that faucet today? And the pool pump’s acting up again—needs your magic touch.” She poked his chest, her smile softening the nag, knowing he’d drag his feet unless she pushed.

Neil chuckled, sipping his coffee. “Yeah, yeah, I got it. Just lemme wake up, Den.” His eyes roamed her curves, a hungry edge that made her pulse quicken, but before she could press him, Chloe sauntered in, her presence a fucking earthquake. Her red crop top barely contained her massive tits, bouncing with every step, her shorts riding low on her tanned hips. She smirked at Neil, ignoring Denise, and leaned against the counter, arching her back to thrust her chest forward.

Neil’s cock stiffened visibly in his sweatpants, his jaw slackening, a groan escaping his lips, his mug clattering to the counter as he stepped toward her, drawn like a moth to a flame. Denise’s stomach twisted—anger, arousal, the familiar sting of being sidelined.

“Neil, the house!” Denise snapped, grabbing his arm, her nails digging in. “You promised me—focus!”

Chloe smirked, stepping closer, her tits brushing Neil’s chest. “You know your cock needs release, baby,” she cooed, her hand sliding down to grip his erection through his pants, stroking him. “Your cock comes first.” She tugged, leading him toward the living room, her power unbreakable, his eyes glazed with need.

Neil glanced back at Denise, guilt flickering, but his hips swayed, following Chloe. “Sorry, babe,” he rasped, voice thick with lust. “gotta cum. More important. I’ll fix shit later.” And with that, he was gone, Chloe’s laughter trailing as they disappeared, the living room door shutting with a soft click.

Denise sighed, frustration simmering. *Another fucking distraction.* She loved Neil’s dominance, but it left her picking up the slack, and Chloe’s blatant disrespect—ignoring her to steal him—burned.

She started her day, scrubbing dishes, wiping counters, her mind churning. Amelia’s arrival had amplified the competition, she was Neil’s queen, but without a circlet-gifted ability, she was just… normal, ignored. As she swept the living room, Amelia appeared, her blonde hair tied back, her tank top tight, her shorts barely covering her ass. “Hey, Den,” she said, voice chipper but edged with intent. “Mind taking my laundry? Got a pile in my room, and I’m swamped.”

Denise bristled, broom in hand. “Swamped with what? Screaming for Bran’s cock?” The jab was sharp, her envy flaring, but Amelia just smiled, stepping closer, her fingers brushing Denise’s arm. A spark of ecstasy jolted through her, Amelia’s power flaring—warm, electric, loosening her muscles, stirring her pussy.

“Easy, Den,” Amelia murmured, her touch lingering, another spark making Denise gasp. “Just help me out, yeah? You’re so good at keeping this place tight.” Her voice was honey, but the power was a command, and Denise’s body betrayed her, arousal mixing with annoyance as she nodded, unable to resist. She trudged upstairs, grabbing Amelia’s laundry—sweaty gym clothes, lacy panties—muttering under her breath. *Fucking powers.* Amelia had her doing chores now, her touch turning Denise into a servant, and it stung, her pride chafing under the weight of her normalcy.

By evening, Denise was exhausted, the mansion half-clean, Neil still distracted by Chloe’s tits. She found him in the garage, tinkering with the pool pump, his hands greasy, his focus finally on something useful. “Babe,” she said, leaning against the doorframe, “you get that faucet yet?” He grinned, wiping his hands, and pulled her close, his cock pressing against her thigh through his jeans.

“Workin’ on it, queen,” he teased, kissing her neck, but she sighed, her frustration spilling over. They headed to their bedroom, the one constant in her world, and as they undressed, slipping into bed, Denise’s emotions broke free. She curled against him, her head on his chest, his heartbeat steady under her ear.

“Neil,” she said, voice soft but heavy, “I’m struggling. Amelia’s here, taking your attention, and Chloe’s tits just… pull you away. I love that you’re this dominant king, fucking whoever you want, but I’m just me—no powers, no respect. The girls walk over me, and I’m stuck cleaning up while they play. I know you love me, sleep here every night, but… I feel invisible sometimes.”

Neil’s arms tightened around her, his lips brushing her forehead. “Den, you’re my fucking queen,” he said, voice firm, his love a fire in his words. “You’ve been with me since the start, held me up when I was a lazy fuck. You’re not invisible. The girls? They’re fun, but you’re my girl.” He sat up, grabbing the circlet from the nightstand, its silver glinting in the lamplight. “Lemme fix this. You deserve respect, power, everything.”

He slid the circlet onto her head, and Denise gasped, her body shuddering as a blissful haze enveloped her. Her pussy slicked, her nipples hardening, every nerve alight with submission and possibility. “Master,” she breathed, her eyes locked on his, adoration overwhelming her.

Neil’s voice was a command, laced with love. “Denise, I’m giving you a power—‘Queen Bee of the Harem.’ Any woman I’ve fucked—Chloe, Amelia, whoever—has to show you deep respect, defer to your will, as long as it doesn’t betray me or fuck with my fun. They’ll obey without resentment, happy to serve you, my queen. You’re above them, always.” He leaned in, kissing her deeply, his hands roaming her curves—full breasts, soft waist, round hips—adoring every inch.

“Yes, master,” Denise moaned, the circlet sealing his words into her soul, a new strength blooming in her chest. Neil removed the circlet, and the haze faded, but the power stayed, a quiet hum of authority. He pushed her back, his lips trailing down her neck, kissing her collarbone, sucking her nipples until she arched, gasping. His cock, thick and hard, pressed against her thigh, and he spread her legs, entering her slow, deep, filling her with love, not just lust.

“Fuck, Den,” he groaned, thrusting gently, his hands worshiping her body—squeezing her ass, tracing her curves. “You’re perfect, my everything.” She clung to him, her pussy clenching around him, pleasure building as he made love to her, each thrust a vow. They came together, her orgasm soft but shattering, his cum warm inside her, sealing their bond. They collapsed, tangled, and she fell asleep in his arms, her heart full, her power waiting.

The next morning, Denise woke with a fire in her veins, her new power a crown she wore invisibly. She dressed in a tight dress that hugged her curves, her confidence radiant, and headed downstairs. Chloe and Amelia were in the kitchen, Chloe sipping coffee, Amelia scrolling her phone. Denise stood tall, her voice clear and commanding. “Girls,” she said, and they looked up, their eyes softening with instinctive respect, no trace of defiance. “Chloe, make breakfast—pancakes, eggs, the works. Then give Neil his morning fuck, make it good. Amelia, clean Brandon’s gym—spotless—then service his cock while he eats. Let’s keep this house running, yeah?”

“Yes, Denise,” Chloe said, her voice warm, no hint of her usual smugness. She moved to the stove, pulling out ingredients, her tits bouncing but powerless now. “Yes, Denise,” Amelia echoed, her smile genuine, grabbing cleaning supplies without a grumble. Denise’s heart soared—*they’re listening, respecting me*—her power absolute, their obedience a balm to her wounded pride.

The day unfolded like a dream. Chloe served Neil breakfast, then led him upstairs, her moans echoing as she rode him, pleasing their master under Denise’s command. Amelia scrubbed the gym, mats gleaming, then knelt for Brandon, her lips worshipping his monstrous cock as he ate, his groans mixing with the clink of plates. Denise oversaw it all, directing tasks—pool skimming, laundry, dusting—her orders met with eager compliance. The mansion transformed, spotless and serene, a reflection of her authority.

By evening, Denise was tired but triumphant, the house a masterpiece. She lounged in the living room, Chloe and Amelia finishing their tasks, their respect unwavering. “Girls,” she called, her voice sultry, “come here.” They obeyed, kneeling before her, their eyes adoring. “Suck my tits,” she ordered, pulling down her dress, her full breasts spilling free. “Get me wet for Neil.” Chloe and Amelia leaned in, lips closing around her nipples, sucking gently, their tongues swirling, sparks of pleasure shooting through her. Chloe’s hand slid between Denise’s thighs, teasing her clit, while Amelia’s fingers joined, their touch reverent, making her pussy slick and ready.

Neil walked in, his eyes darkening with desire, his cock hardening in his jeans. “Fuck, Den,” he growled, stripping, his lean body a promise. “Look at my queen.” He joined them, pushing Denise back on the sofa, spreading her legs. Chloe and Amelia moved aside, their hands still roaming her body—squeezing her breasts, kissing her neck—pleasing their queen. Neil entered her, his cock filling her deep, thrusting hard, his love and lust a fire. “You’re everything,” he groaned, pounding her, her pussy clenching around him.

Chloe sucked Denise’s nipple, Amelia’s fingers circling her clit, their obedience amplifying her pleasure. “Serve your queen,” Denise gasped, her power peaking, and they moaned, happy to obey, their loyalty to her and Neil absolute. Her orgasm crashed through her, a tidal wave, her screams echoing as Neil came, his cum flooding her. Chloe and Amelia sighed, content, their service complete, the mansion a kingdom under Denise’s rule.

As they collapsed, tangled and sated, Denise smiled, her heart full. She was Neil’s queen, the girls’ leader, her power respected, her love secure. The house was hers, spotless and united, and she’d never feel invisible again.