Violette pads softly up the carpeted stairs, trusting that I'm close behind. I ascend a little slower, appreciating the angle on her plush thighs as she climbs higher and higher. She may be lacking curves up top, but her legs and hips are very promising. I'm looking forward to a full inspection later.

She glances over her shoulder, sees me watching, and pokes her tongue out.

"Caught me," I say as I climb up after her. She giggles.

She seems comfortable and in control as she walks into the guest room, a neatly decorated space that Jett clearly gave Eric tips on. She gestures at the expanse of it without a word. Unsurprisingly, since it's a house outside of the center of the city, it's larger than my bedroom in Jett's apartment. Dark brown, black, and green furniture fills the room, and the walls are a pleasant moss color.

Maybe it should warm my heart that my uncle went out of his way to have this room filled with my favorite colors, but it mostly just annoys me. It's presumptuous, or obsequious, something like that. An attempt to mollify me before I even had a complaint. I'd rather have filled the room with my own things, in time.

Anyway, I can rib Jett about that later. Time for part two of the plan I formed earlier.

I shut the door behind me and grab Violette, who gasps. She's about half a foot shorter than me and dainty, so it's not hard to push her front up against the closed door and put a hand over her mouth. I hold her in place with the weight of my body. She wriggles, but not hard.

"Shh," I murmur in her ear. "No more orders, princess."

She makes a muffled sound, but then falls silent. I can feel her breathing pick up, warmer when it blows out against my palm.

See, diving around Eric's mind was a truly useful exercise. The knotted and tangled threads of memories Violette had left behind painted a picture. She likes being in charge, yes, but she also likes to be taken in hand. Enjoys playing the victim, one might say.

I suspect that she'll fold pretty quick if I exert some pressure.

"Are you going to behave?" I ask, and after a moment, she nods.

I drop my hand from her mouth.

"You can say what you want, pretty sure your influence has worn off," I lie. Judging by how coltish I feel right now, about 10 percent of my brain screaming I should let her go before she gets mad, her influence is active as ever. But it's fun to pretend, isn't it? I think she knows I'd stop the instant she said it.

"I was going to give it to you anyway, you know," she says, a pout in her voice. She doesn't turn to look at me.

"On your terms. This time it's on mine."

She shifts, her hips moving back against mine, just an inch. Eager little kitten. She takes a few seconds to speak again. "Okay, I guess you can lead," she says.

Not an order! She was so careful. I feel like giving her a pat on the head, reign it in. Wouldn't fit the mood.

"It's not going to be that easy," I say as I wrap my hands around her neck, squeezing the artery in her neck hard enough that she squeaks and struggles again. I let go before she can get woozy, but the implication is enough. Her breathing quickens further, and she steps her right foot to the side, opening her legs. I bump her foot a little farther with mine, drawing a moan out of her. I can smell her wetness now.

I reach under her skirt with one hand and grasp her round ass, working my fingers into the smooth skin. She never did put on panties.

"So, ever done anal?" I ask.

"What? No," she says quickly, like I'm stupid.

"Why not? You were trying to add my ass to your dad's list a few minutes ago, but you've never done it yourself?"

She falls silent. I can practically hear the gears in her head grinding. It's adorable how much of a bimbo she is under the bossiness. "Um, because I don't have the thing that makes it good," she finally says.

"Ha! Sure, yeah, no prostate, but girls like you can still enjoy it."

"Girls like me?"

"Cis girls. And sluts."

She quivers at that, doesn't deny the label. In fact, her butt pushes into my groping hand instead.

"I don't know..." She tries to sound wary, but I hear her interest. I slide my hand toward the cleft of her ass, search for her hole with my index finger. When I find it, the puckered skin resists for a moment, but it yields with enough pressure. Just the tip of my finger enters her. She shivers uncertainly.

"Feels weird," she says, with a note of complaint. Uh-oh. If she doesn't like it, I'm sure she'll take control back. Also, a part of me knows I wouldn't survive displeasing her.

"Might have to train you back here, it's tight. I'll just use my fingers tonight."

She whimpers and yields further at the word "train." I grin. Still with me! It must be fun for a girl who likes to get dominated but can control anyone who's ever gotten an eyeful of her pussy, right? I feel the same way about her. On top of her ability to control me, the blankness inside her makes her extra unpredictable and slippery. I haven't been this excited, this challenged, since I got a handle on my powers.

Suddenly, I draw my hands back and step away from her. She turns her head over her shoulder, eyes dark and bleary. She doesn't speak but I can see the question in her eyes. Why did I stop?

Because I'm going to prove to her how obedient she really is.

"Go get an internal vibrator. I'm sure you've got a favorite. Lube, a towel too, and put on something sexy."

She puffs with indignation, and I think for a second that I might've overdone it, before she turns and whips the door open, crossing to the shut door on the other side of the hallway--her room, I imagine.

"Wait," she says, the first order out of her mouth since we've come upstairs, then enters her room in a rush of rustling fabric. I laugh to myself, not mad about obeying that one.

* * *

She's demure when she comes back, even has the audacity to wear a shy expression as she takes off her fluffy light blue robe to reveal a ruffly yellow negligee dotted with delicate ribbons. I half-expected lingerie, but she's not wearing anything underneath. She hands me the towel and lube, her eyes on the floor and a flush on her cheeks.

"Where's the--"

"I put it in already," she interrupts, raising her face with a stubborn expression, daring me to scold her.

I pat her head instead, smoothing down her defensiveness. Mood was right for it this time. "That's fine. I know you need it." I echo something her father said in his memories, and the effect is immediate.

Pushing against my front, she clings to my undershirt--I took the time she was gone to take off everything but that and my boxer briefs--and wields her doe eyes against me. There's only one lamp on in here, but I can still see how blue they are. I thought they might be contacts before, but they're definitely the real deal. From her mom, I suppose.

"I do, I do need it," she pleads. No orders still. I kiss her and murmur that she's doing so well against her lips, making her moan. Her hips are begging too, taking advantage of the reduction in fabric between us. I have to push her away before I give in and take the place of her vibrator.

I'm setting myself up for the longterm here, I tell myself firmly. This girl will absolutely turn me into her plaything if I let her. I'm sure I'd enjoy it, but what about my self-respect?

"C'mon, get on the bed," I say.

She hesitates, looks between me and the bed, then does what I told her. Phew.

"I'm gonna turn it on," she whines, but I have my hand between her legs before she can do that.

"Allow me," I say, holding her eyes (not looking! not looking at it right now!), praying the end of the vibrator has an obvious way to turn it on. Some of them seriously require a manual. I am grateful when this one has an obvious button at the end, which turns on when I hold it down for a few seconds. A deep thrum starts up inside her, and the branch of it that protrudes upward trembles against her clit, causing her to tremble too.

"Now roll over," I direct, and she's happy to oblige as her toy rumbles away. She gets on her hands and knees, lazily moves her hips back and forth almost like she's slow dancing to a favorite song. It feels almost sancrosect to stop her, but I can't wait forever.

"If it gets uncomfortable, squeeze your toy nice and tight. You'll start to relax."

She makes a little Hmph! sound but also raises her peach-shaped ass toward me invitingly. Easy as anything, I press my finger back against her, lubricated this time. The agreeable lack of friction means I can get my whole finger in without much trouble. Her breath catches. She glances at me over her shoulder, then darts her eyes away when I wink at her.

"That feel good, cutie?"

"Shut--" She stops herself, restarts. "Not that good."

"You need more, I hear you," I say with a grin, inching my ring finger in along my index finger. She huffs, then goes quiet. The room fills with the wet noise of my fingers, the vibrator's hum, and her uneven breathing. Her eyes widen a centimeter as I start moving my fingers, angling down so they press on the side of her inner walls across from the vibrator.

"Nnngh."

"See, I told you."

She shuts her eyes. "M-more please."

"Yes, princess."

I really should get a gold star for restraint. Between the sounds her pussy and ass are making, it's so hard not to change plans. Maybe she doesn't need more relaxing back there. Or maybe, and this one is even louder, her perfect pussy needs filling with something hot and hard and alive, not a silicone toy. I settle for taking the end of it in my free hand and thrusting it as I scissor my fingers inside her. Restraint, restraint. The prize is coming.

Sure enough, I'm rewarded before too long by a beautiful orgasm that ripples up and down her back as she twitches and gasps. She presses her face into the bed as she moans, stifling for any louder sounds, though I'll handle damage control if Eric or Jett come snooping. Pretty sure they're still fucking like animals though.

I withdraw, wipe my hands off on the towel, and turn the vibrator off so she doesn't get overstimulated. She rolls on her back, throwing her legs apart, and I make the mistake of letting my eyes between them. I'd managed to do everything by feeling so far, so the sight of her folds and the vibrator handle blooming out of her, covered in her juices, hits me at full force.

Oh my god I need to fuck her so bad. But that's not what I wanted! But I need it! I have to!

She sees the look on my face and sits up quickly, putting her hands on my arms, forcing her face into my space until she's all I can see, blue eyes, button nose, oval mouth, golden hair with just a hint of her natural color at the roots. The void inside her captures me as firmly as her hands do, holds me while I shake with desire.

"Tell me what you wanted," she says.

"I wanted you to give me a blowjob," I rush to say, even though that's not it anymore, I-

"You want me to give you a blowjob," she repeats, not a question. An order. She releases my arms and takes hold of my underwear's hem instead. "I'll do it."

The tension inside me rushes out like the tide as the contradiction inside me fades, my original plan returning to the forefront. She had mercy on me. A wave of annoyance laps at the back of my mind because the upperhand I had just flew out the window, but I can't complain too much. She wraps her mouth around me before I can say anything, redirects all my attention to that point of heat. I put my hand on top of her head and watch with eager eyes.

It turns out I was right to guess she'd never done anal before, but I was wrong to think she'd never given a blowjob. She absolutely knows what she's doing.

* * *

She swallows like a champ, and would you believe she tries to leave after that? I tell her she's being ridiculous and coax her under the covers of the guest bed with me. She seems confused but acquiesces when I press my chest against her back and lay an arm over her side.

"You never done this before?" I ask, sleepily, into the hair on top of her head. I kind of want to chew on her, in the way you want to chew on cute things that need to be shown who's boss.

"Not really. It's warm." She touches my arm with just the tips of her fingers.

"Nobody's ever wanted to cuddle you before? Can't believe it."

"Daddy falls asleep, and anyone else was just an experiment, really, and I left after," she says matter-of-factly.

"Experiments, huh. Didn't they fall in love with you?"

"Love? I don't think so. They want to have sex with me, so we do. They want it for a while after that but nobody's said they love me. Daddy loves me because he's Daddy, but it's not romantic."

"Oh." I flush with embarrassment, realizing that I have not been going through the normal stages of whatever kind of pussy magic she wields. I hope she won't notice, but it's hard to miss when we're skin to skin like this.

"Did you?" she asks.

"All on my own, I guess."

"I could get rid of it?" She doesn't sound like she wants to. My heart clenches.

"Don't," I murmur.

She accepts that, and doesn't say anything else for a long time.

"You really can't use your powers on me?" I blink sleep out of my eyes, have to ask her to repeat it before I fully process it.

"No, not at all. Your head's locked down like a bank vault," I say, thinking she'll appreciate that more than the truth: that her mind feels like standing on the precipice of a dark canyon.

She hums, doesn't say anything else, but when I trace her mouth with my fingers, I can feel her smiling.