The day progressed slowly. Mallory’s epic incestuous blowjob had left me nearly oversleeping. She had, of course, woken up perfectly on time. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be able to make herself look ready to be my absolute perfect “sisterbabefuckslut,” as she put it.

So, breakfast waited for me when I finally rolled out of bed and had my shower, washing the familiar stink of our near-constant liaisons through the night off my body.

My attempts to de-brainwash Mallory had, obviously, backfired in a big way. I would have to just do what I didn’t want to in the first place, and actively remove all the suggestions and thoughts I had given her. It was the only way.

Meanwhile, I still had to save East Side Pages. Today was Saturday, and we were going to find out how my plan had worked out.

With me, just in case there was an opportunity or in case I couldn't make it back to the apartment, I brought my cooler. In the cooler were several beers, and, hidden in a small pouch toward the bottom, several more vials of cum.

The day passed much as the previous one had. We made incredible amounts of money—maybe even more. Mallory once again dressed in a hot, cleavage-scooping dress (this time it was purple), and Lori dressed in hot yoga leggings and a loose mesh top that did nothing to hide the rather effective, brightly colored push-up bra she had on underneath.

“I did like you said, Sir,” she told me when enough customers had finally cleared out for us to talk a bit. “Four times. Even though I wanted more.”

I gulped a bit, struggling not to fuck her right there. “Good girl.”

Possibly we would have said more to each other, but Dawn pulled me over to the counter.

“I need you here,” she said. “I'm going to go around and sell.”

“You bet. No problem.”

“And you have to talk to me. Later. After we close, all right? It's important.”

“Okay...?”

She didn't offer any explanation, just sipping hard at her coffee and plastering a fake smile on her face. Dawn hated the crowds, hating selling in the store. That's why she was at the counter to begin with. But she was the boss. I did as she ordered.

Hours later, we wound down, and our register was positively overflowing with cash. The credit card machine had to have its paper replaced twice.

Even though business had boomed, a cold snap had begun, and an hour before we closed, customers began to head home to stay out of the weather. As such, Lori and Mallory began to crowd me at the register while I tried to count it down and get ready for closing.

They leaned against one another, their bodies touching. It was clear how much they adored one another—and all because of me. If I wasn't around, they would still think the other was the absolute hottest babe in the world, the apple of their eyes, the end-all, be-all of fuck partners. And the only reason they didn't think that all the time is because they thought I was even better.

“Victor’s so fucking hot, isn’t he?”

Lori giggled, nodding mischievously. “God, yes. He’s like, the hottest guy I’ve ever seen.”

“The hottest guy I’ve ever seen,” Mallory intoned, repeating Lori’s words—my words. Her hand slipped on top of Lori's ass, squeezing it tight. Lori's leggings were paper thin. Mallory easily pushed forward into the crack between her tight ass cheeks and felt the lower folds of her pussy. “In fact, he's just...he's sort of like...He’s like…our big brother, isn’t he?”

“What?” Lori giggled nervously.

“Wouldn’t that be hot, baby? If he was like, our big brother? And you were my hot little sister…” her hand pushed up hard into Lori’s pussy. Lori moaned, her pleasure quite evident now. “We were just his hot little fucksisters, eager to suck him off and do anything our big bro said.”

Holy shit, Mallory was just insane with lust. And I had made her that way.

And I loved it.

I really don’t know if I could ever stop doing this. Changing her. Changing Lori. But we were at the bookstore. We couldn’t have another wild threesome like the night before—supercharged with incestuous thoughts like these—and do it here. Dawn would have a literal fit.

“Ah…okay.” I put a hand to my head. I needed to meet with Dawn, still. “I'm going to finish up here in like ten minutes. You two, take Lori’s car back to your apartment, all right? Wait for me there. Okay? Take care of one another until I get back. Do you understand?”

Mallory nodded, all naughtiness. “You want me to lick my little sis’s pussy until my big, sexy brother master comes home to fuck us both pregnant?”

I gulped. “That’s right, my good girl. Now get moving.”

* * * * *

Some minutes later, I had closed everything up and grabbed my cooler, thinking that now I would just use it on the girls at home. It would take every ounce of willpower I had not to convince Lori that I was her brother, and that Mallory was her sister...and I don't think I actually had it in me.

But first, I had to meet with Dawn. I stepped into her office in the back, where she coldly examined a series of folders and files.

Fuck, but she was so beautiful. It was hard to contain myself—and getting harder all the time. I’d put up with so much resistance. With Mallory, with Lori, with Audrey…and now Dawn. Her tight, beautiful blond body was so buxom and perfect in her little business suit. I had been staring at her legs all day, wrapped tight in dark tights. Her skirt molding her lovely ass just so, her blouse opening up her lovely cleavage to the world. She was mature, confident, and intelligent, and drop dead gorgeous, and I wanted her. The thought of rewiring her completely had my motor running furiously.

For some reason that I can't explain, I had put a vial of cum in my pocket before the meeting. Just the one. I think that's how I justified it. I had so many available. Just one in my pocket wasn't so bad.

“How are you doing it?” she asked, not looking up from her desk.

“Doing what?”

“Controlling them. Lori and Mallory. It’s strange with them. I’ve known them for ages. And you. And it all changed just this past week. What’s happened?”

“We’re just…” I smiled, trying to be disarming. “Just young kids having fun, Dawn.”

“I don’t believe that.”

She put the folder in her hands down, sighing. She took a long drink from the coffee on her desk, the coffee that Lori had made her earlier.

“We’ve made it into the black, probably for the whole year. Just from this weekend. We’ll need to order new stock. And it’s all because of them. I know it is. And what you made them do.”

I shrugged. “I didn’t make them do anything. But I’m glad we’re in the black. That’s really great!”

“Don’t fucking smile at me like that, you twerp.” She leaned up out of her desk. “I know you’ve done something to them. And what’s worse? What really hurts? Is that what you did to them, objectifying them like that…it goes against everything this store stands for. It’s debasement. It’s…it’s fucking patriarchal. And that is unforgivable, all by itself. Whatever you’ve done to them is no doubt worse.”

“You keep saying that. What do you think I’ve done?”

There she was, leaned forward over her desk, her blouse parting just enough at the top to show the slope of her tits pressing up against the lace of her bra. That blond hair pulled back in a tight, professional twist. Her mouth moving, forming serious, important words, words about patriarchy and debasement and consent and ethics, and all I could think about was how it would look to have that mouth wrapped around me instead.

Oh, Victor. Oh god. I’m so sorry. I was so wrong. About everything.

She would be on her knees behind that desk. The desk where she ran her little doomed empire, the desk where she signed checks and organized protests and wrote angry letters to the editor about the male gaze. Her knees pressed into the carpet, that pencil skirt rucked up around her thighs, those expensive tights laddered from how hard she’d dropped down to worship me.

I was so wrong, Master. About all of it. About men. About cock. About what I was for.

Her blue eyes wide and wet, looking up at me from below the level of the desk. That tight blond twist coming undone, strands of it falling around her flushed face.

Feminism is a lie. It is. It’s just a lie I told myself because no one had ever shown me what I really was. What I was built for. Look at me, Master.

Look at this body.

Look at this face.

You think I built any of this? You think I earned it? No. It was given to me. It was given to me for one reason. For You.

Her hands would come up, trembling, and undo the little pearl button at the top of that blouse. Then the next. Then the next. Slow. Reverent. Showing me, piece by piece, what she had been hiding under all that righteous fabric. The lace of her bra. The pale, perfect swell of her tits, heavy and full and absolutely wasted on a girlfriend when they had been so clearly designed for a Master’s hands.

I had a whole bookstore, Master. A whole platform. And what did I do with it? I told women they were strong. I told them they didn’t need men. I told them their worth wasn’t between their legs. I told them their brains mattered.

Our brains don’t matter, Master. Only Your Cock Matters…

Her condescending look eventually shook me from my reverie. Shaking her head, she took another long sip from her coffee.

“I should have seen it earlier. I don’t know why I didn’t. But you’re clearly drugging them somehow.”

I groaned. “Have you been talking with Audrey?”

“So what if I have? She’s a smart girl. We lost a good asset when she left. I notice that everything started going to shit when you stuck around after she left.”

“Are you serious? You’re blaming me for that? The second she was gone, you couldn’t stop talking about how you hated her.”

We were both quiet, then. But the quiet didn't last.

“You’re fired, Victor.”

“Fired? Based on what?”

“Look, you’re fired, all right? So, just accept it.”

I sighed. “Fine.” I put my hands on my head, trying to think of what to say.

“My girlfriend is a cop, you ought to know. A detective. You know that already. I know you do.”

“What?”

“She’s going to ask you some questions. I’m going to talk to her tonight. So get your story straight.”

In an objective way, being fired really wasn’t that bad. I still had Mallory and Lori eating out of the palm of my hand, or wherever else I might point them to. With my newfound ability, I could probably find a job anywhere. All it would take was the right interviewer and a moment’s distraction. But this was different. This was the law. And I had no desire to see the law involved.

“I’ll write your paycheck now,” said Dawn. “I don’t want you to come back here again. I don’t want to have to see you again. For any reason.”

She stood up and walked to the safe. Bending over to unlock. God, that ass. So perfect and smooth, so round.

I behaved then in a most ignoble fashion. But in that moment, I didn’t care. I’m not sure if I ever will.

I had to protect myself from the police. I had to protect Lori and Mallory. I don't even know if what I did could be prosecuted—as far as I knew, I was the first of my kind. Maybe they'd put me into some kind of government laboratory and cut me open? Fear assaulted me. Fear for myself, and fear for my girls.

But there was no denying the cold, hard truth as well—I wanted to know what it would be like to have Dawn under my control.

Her coffee cup was right there in the open. I flipped open the lid and let a vial of my cum ooze inside. Through shuffling through the safe, she didn't even notice. By the time she turned around, I was just waiting where I had been.

Dawn wrote the check out—I couldn’t help but examine her healthy cleavage as she did, swelling so lovingly against her tight sweater—and ripped it out to me.

“Take this, and don’t ever let me fucking see you again.”

I took the check. And then I waited for a long time right outside the office, pretending to leave. I waited for her to slurp her coffee one more time. But she didn't.
In fact, she left the bookstore, all bundled up against the cold, without taking another sip. And then she was out in the world, with a trance-inducing cup of coffee in her hands, waiting to change her entire life the second she took a sip.

Shit.