He slowed down as he drove because he wasn’t sure of his ability to handle Kylie’s beautiful mouth and handling the steering wheel. Every ten seconds or so, her tongue and mouth delivered some fresh heaven of pleasure he had never experienced before. When he came—which he did three times in the extra hour it took them to go all the way up the mountain road—she came too. And he struggled not to watch as her body became tighter, longer, bustier, sexier as it was jammed between his crotch and the steering wheel with each load he busted up into her willing, slavish throat.

In the backseat, Rhonda was clearly pleasuring herself. He put it together after his first cum. Her fingers caught between her legs, even with as much as she tried to obscure it with her positioning. Eyes out the window to look away—but in doing so, catching the reflection of Stephen and Kylie.

Helpless. Lost in lust. Sweating, shaking, moaning, shifting. She wasn’t even hiding it by the time the cabin actually came into view.

The parking spot in front of the cabin was marked off with sticks and stones. He pulled into it oblong and harsh, jolting Rhonda out of her seat like poorly stacked groceries. She landed down in the space between the back and front seats, legs sprawled out, her head stuck upright with eyes fixated cleanly on Kylie’s mouth worshiping her new god’s cock.

He pushed Kylie down on the seat, but there wasn’t enough room. He was getting larger somehow. He could barely fit behind the steering wheel. Growling, he kicked the door open, metal wrenching and busting from the impact, and grabbed her by the hair. She screamed but she loved it, the quick pain only intensifying the pleasure she felt at being manhandled.

Out of the car, still dragging Kylie by the hair. Feeling violent; feeling like a conqueror unrealized. He slammed Kylie down on the hood of the car ass-first, spreading her legs wide and entered her abruptly and easily.

“Y-yes!” she shouted. “Oh my fuck, yes!”

The bulge of his cock could be seen all the way up to her abdomen. She was so fucking fit.

Gone were any worries of hesitation on his part, of his wife finding out, of what Rhonda might think. All he could think of was how young, virginal, fresh, and fertile Kylie was and how that meant she badly needed to be fucked by him all day long.

Just above her shining, superbly wet cunt was another tattoo—the same kind of symbology that Ella sported. It glimmered and glowed, and seemed to shine even more as a lusty sheen of sweat ran over its surface.

Something to think about later. He pushed deeper inside of Kylie, feeling her virginal resistance crumble before the might of his new, enhanced cock. He felt so fucking strong—taking her, pushing her down. She needed it, wanted it, begged him to go deeper right away—but even if she had fought, she wouldn’t have been able to stop him. They both knew it, and it drove their lust levels even higher.

Every piston-like thrust into Kylie’s cunt powered her tiny body into the car, seeming to do permanent damage to its frame and everything under the hood. He heard metal rattling around, screeching, begging him to slow or stop—but being able to drive back to town suddenly held a lot less interest for him.

Not for Rhonda, though. She stumbled out of the car, crying.

“Please, stop! Stop fucking her! I can’t take it!”

Her hand was deep in her snatch as she begged him. Kylie’s legs wrapped around him tighter; her wildly orgasming cunt spasming around his thick shaft, her thick hair spread all over the hood of the car.

“Never stop!” Kylie begged. “Please, don’t ever stop fucking me!”

Rhonda grabbed his arm. “Stop!”

Kylie pulled him in tighter. “Don’t!”

“Stop!”

“Don’t…”

“Stop!”

“Don’t…”

“Stop!”

“Don’t…”

“Stop!”

Rhonda suddenly seemed to realize she was just playing into Kylie’s chanting hand and ran to the cabin, trying to get inside. But she didn’t have the keys. She knelt down and hugged herself near the door, looking away, furious. Her fingers once again slipped up between her legs and she sulkily played with herself, trying to ignore the display Stephen and Kylie made.

With her out of the way, he focused entirely on Kylie—and there was so much to focus on.

She was a beautiful young woman, and whatever had happened to transform the women of the town had clearly happened to her as well—making her even more beautiful. Her exposure to his cock meant her young, healthy skin was even more vibrant, her hair longer and thicker, and her hefty tits even becoming bustier even as he kneaded them. The supple titflesh pushed through the gaps in his fingers, slick from her gathering milk .

“Cum in me, Daddy. Put a baby in me. Please, Daddy? Please fuck me pregnant?”

Nothing from his previous life told him that he could have a baby with some random college girl and have no consequences. But now that felt entirely different—he felt like he could impregnate her and all her friends and never suffer a single repercussion.

“Do it, please? Please, Daddy? You’re a stud. You’re such a fucking stud. Fuck up my life, please? Make me your pregnant little fucktoy, please, Daddy?”

Stephen knew he had to give her what she wanted. For as much as these women promised him their obedience, they sure seemed to influence the hell out of him.

Looking at her squirming, lusciously lithe body, Stephen decided he could live with their influence.

He emptied his load inside her fertile belly, exulting in the immediate orgasm she obviously felt at the splashing of his seed inside her. Her beautiful face, caught in the waves of purest pleasure—cheeks flushed, pupils dilated, glossy lips parted—softened his heart for her considerably.

He wanted to keep this girl. He wanted her to belong to him. She was his fucking property now. Not just owned by him like all those girls in town—but actually his. Someone in his household. How had she put it? A “special secret slavefucksister” for Gale.

His hands roamed over her trembling, post-orgasm body—all the way down to her pussy, above which still featured that same odd tattoo.

“They grabbed you in town, right?” he asked. “Marked you like this.”

Kylie nodded. “I thought it was really weird and scary at the time, but I’m super happy about it now, Daddy.”

His cock—even though he had just cum harder than ever—jolted at her calling him Daddy. Thoughts of fucking her supple, smooth-as-silk body again ran through his mind. This time, though, he could think about a solution to this host of problems, instead of just being lost to the passion of it all. He lifted her legs back up around his hips, already trying to problem-solve with his cock resting on top of her entrance.

The tattoo is magic somehow, okay. Sure. But where does it come from? Why does that symbol look so familiar?

Rhonda approached, averting her eyes from the sight of Stephen astride Kylie. She had her hands stuffed up inside her armpits, arms crossed, but her thighs rubbed together to try and create some friction on her needy cunt. It wasn’t much use; her thighs were thin now.

She was changing too. Changing like all the other girls. She had always been a looker, but now her brown hair glistened, a sexy tangle drooping down into a heavy pair of thoroughly smashing tits.

“Please,” said Rhonda. Her lips looked so sexy when she said that. “Give me the keys. You promised. You said. Give me the keys. Let me leave. Please.”

“Oh, I don’t know, Daddy.” Kylie slid up and wrapped her hand around his cock, stroking him with her feet wrapped just so around his thighs. “She’s a dumb bitch for being against you, but she is a stunner. Should we really just let her go?” She leaned in close and whispered. “Why let her go when you can fuck her however you want, no matter what she says? We’re in the middle of nowhere. What’s she going to do about it?”

Fuck!

What was it about this tattoo that made every woman he came across not only smoking hot, but desperate to give him as many fucktoys as possible? It was like he had somehow earned the favor of some mad sex god.

“I’ll let you go,” he said, pushing Kylie away just slightly. “I did promise. I’ll keep my word. But you have to show me something first.”

Rhonda tugged on her clothes, now all out of sorts from her constant, failing attempts to not pleasure herself. Her thick hair was piled all to one side. God, Stephen wanted to fuck her. It hit him hard like a pile of bricks; he wanted to strip her down and make her sorry she was so fucking stupid for ever going against him.

He could imagine Ella, standing over her with a whip. What the fuck is wrong with you? Don’t you realize who he IS? You stupid cunt.

And here…already holding his cock, was Kylie. She wasn’t quite as impressive as Ella—few could be—but she still was something, and she definitely had the right attitude.

“Show you something?” Rhonda asked.

“I want to see your pussy.”

Kylie bounced with glee. “Yes! Yay!”

“You’re cr-crazy. You-you’re…no!”

But her hands had already started to go to her zipper and buttons, like she couldn’t help but do what he said. Like something had changed her already.

Stephen walked away from the crumpled, probably-now-useless car and advanced on Rhonda. She backed up, whimpering, licking her lips, big eyes searching for mercy and finding none. Before long, he cornered her against the side of the cabin. Kylie, simpering, sidled up next to him and gave Rhonda dagger-eyes.

“You better do what he says. There’s no one out here to hear you scream. And he and I could do anything to you. No one would know. And even if they did find out…no one would care, would they? Your struggle against the wants of a man like him? Would anyone give a fuck?”

Her hand slipped up onto his cock as she spoke, stroking him so that he spilled precum all down Rhonda’s legs and feet. She was so twisted and evil and willing, and so easily. Stephen knew nothing about this girl and yet she was already in so many ways like a carbon copy of Ella or Abigail. It was like one template had been handed out for the whole town.

“Please,” Rhonda whimpered. “Don’t make me. Don’t make me…”

“Don’t make me,” said Stephen. “Show me your fucking pussy. Right now.”

Trembling and nodding, Rhonda began to strip.

Her body was unbelievable. Tight, toned, busty. Milk streaming from her heavy tits. Thick chestnut hair like something from a painting. She had clearly changed from the Rhonda he knew.

From what her body looked like, at least, he was mostly certain what he would find—but she wasn’t done yet.

“Panties too,” said Kylie. “Show Master everything. It’s what he wants.”

Kylie’s urgency filled him with a different urgency—to fuck her until she wanted him to conquer even more, if that was possible.

The fight was gone from Rhonda—he saw it leave her countenance like the air from a balloon. Deflated. Defeated. Totally willing.

Finally, Rhonda was naked entirely beneath the waist, and he saw why she had been so reticent to show him.

She had the tattoo, just like Kylie and Ella. And just like them, it was the same symbol and in the exact same placement.

But that wasn’t why she didn’t want to show him what she had. No—she had apparently stuffed her pussy full of a vibrator plug.

Kylie giggled. “What the fuck is that?”

“I—I’m not stupid,” Rhonda said, clearly struggling. “I saw what was happening around town. I knew that women would get really turned on and then it would all become about you for some reason. So I thought that if I controlled my orgasms, if I edged and came enough, that I would be able to keep my composure. And it worked! I was right!”

Even if it had worked for a moment, it was clear the efficacy was waning if not outright eliminated by Stephen’s recognition of his power over Kylie—and by extension, Rhonda herself. She had been touching herself quite a bit—fingering her clit while the plug buzzed along inside her pussy…so much stimulation. She nearly got away with it, too.

Kylie slipped a hand up between Rhonda’s thighs and removed the plug with a laugh, tossing it into the dirt.

“Do you feel like you’re in control of your orgasms right now, stupid?”

Rhonda whimpered and came down on her knees, weakly reaching after the plug. Kylie took her by the hair and slapped her.

“Hey. Bitch. Stupid bitch. I asked you a question. Are you in control?”

Rhonda, knees knocking, eyes searching all over Stephen and Kylie for help, shook her head. “No. No.”

“Who is in control, stupid?”

“He is. Stephen.”

Kylie slapped her again, leaving a blazing red mark on one cheek.

“Who is, bitch?”

“M-Master.” Rhonda’s voice became a whimpering whisper. “D-Daddy. Daddy’s in control of my cunt. I w-want it. I want his control. Please.”

Kylie held her tight to her face, sneering against her cheek and ear. “You feel smart now, bitch?”

“No. No. I’m so sorry. I’m so stupid.”

From this display, this dominance of one beautiful slave over another, Stephen was harder than he knew how to handle.

There was a bed just inside. He ripped the door off its hinges and shoved Rhonda into the cabin and down onto the bed. Kylie slid around them both, serpentine, holding down Rhonda at the shoulders.

“Please, Daddy,” begged Rhonda, spreading her legs wide for him. “I’ll do all the things you say. Please make me sorry I was so stupid.”

He would.